Revolution 9/7/23

[Danny]

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



Tom Phillips: Hello and welcome to Revolution! I’m Tom Phillips alongside Mauro Ranallo and former International Champion Corey Graves!

Mauro Ranallo: Tonight, what great action we have in store like Zelina Vega taking on Jamie Hayter in title competition.

Corey Graves: Also on tap, Vinny Marseglia versus Roman Reigns!

Tom Phillips: And in a non-title match, Television Champion Finn Balor takes on Spike Dudley.

Mauro Ranallo: And in our non-title main event, Intercontinental Champion Orange Cassidy does battle with WARHORSE.

Corey Graves: All that and more right here live!






"Headphones" by WALK THE MOON comes on and the crowd instinctively gets on their feet to boo the most hated man in UWF. Sure there are stronger and more fearful wrestlers in UWF but it's a much different kind of hate when you just flat out cannot stand someone such as Zayn. He confidently struts to the ring with the Forever Championship on his shoulder and El Genercio and La Luchadora in tow.

Mauro Ranallo: And here comes the new #1 contender to the UWF Championship.

Corey Graves: Have a little more bass in your voice Mauro, it's our new soon to be UWF Champion!

Tom Phillips: You better hope Drew McIntyre doesn't hear you.

Corey Graves: You better not tell him anything you little shit!

Zayn comes into the ring with Genercio and Luchadora. Generico hands him a mic to speak.



Sami Zayn: Detroit, you know I love to say I told you so so, I told you so!

Lots of hate comes down from the UWF faithful. Sami relishes it with a big smile on his face.

Sami Zayn: I know I get it, You put your faith in a good for nothing young boy who did nothing but waste my gracious time. Let's not forget that he disappointed me first. What made you think he'd be your champion? Why would he be able to stop the man who taught him everything he knows? EC3 gave him the shot and he blew it. The man was once heralded for all his smart decisions but now Ethan is just a shell of his former self. You know for all the talk he made in his big speech when he took over the company, he's doing the same stuff he said he wouldn't do. He gave into pressure. Instead of running the show, he's allowed the inmates to take over. Since when do World Champions get to choose who their challenger is? If that's the case, then expect me to make my first defense of the title against Rey Mysterio.

There's a slight pop for that but most people know what Zayn's true intentions are there.

Sami Zayn: Relax, I'm joking. I will be a fighting champion just like how I'm a fighting challenger. Unlike Drew McIntyre, I earned my shot at the UWF Championship., I didn't go around causing havoc and bullying people into giving me a title shot. I did it through hard work and determination. I earned my spot here while Drew, he'll just be another flash in the pan. Sure he became UWF Champion but in the history books, he'll just be a stat. Meanwhile I'm the greatest Tag Team Champion of all time and the one and only Forever Champion!

Sami slaps the belt on his shoulder a few times and polishes it up while the fans continue to rain down hate on him.

Sami Zayn: Drew has done nothing memorable his whole career. He calls himself The Destroyer but what exactly has he destroyed besides the legitimacy of the UWF Championship? So what he hit some face painted freak with a car? He should be in prison not on TV every week. Did you happen top catch his match with Kyle O'Reilly? It took Drew 3 Claymores and an Iron Maiden to keep Kyle down. I could have done him in with one Helluva Kick had it not been for Young Willy sticking his nose in my business.

And don't think I'm not aware of a certain briefcase floating around. EC3's last ditch effort plan. He knew I'd beat Willy and become the new #1 contender. He knew McIntyre was nothing more than a fluke so he decided to bring back the long dead match just to have a way to stop me after I win the UWF Championship. Well WARHORSE, I just want you to know that-

Before Sami can say another word, someone has had enough of his talk so far.



That someone being the man that Zayn will challenge for the UWF Championship, Drew McIntyre. The Scotsman steps through the curtain and onto the stage before stopping to take a good look at his surroundings.

Tom Phillips: Well if Drew didn’t hear you Corey then it seems like he heard Sami instead.

Corey Graves: Thank you Captain Obvious! How are you still employed?!

Despite coming out to confront Zayn, the crowd appear reluctant to give McIntyre a warm welcome as he makes his way down the ramp. With his eyes now fixed on those currently stood in the ring, the reigning champ is handed a microphone from a ringside technician and in one swift move hops up onto the apron before entering through the middle ropes. As the music comes to a close, there is a certain level of intrigue as to what might happen next as McIntyre raises his microphone.

Drew McIntyre: Before you begin to get any more carried away, let me make a couple things clear… For starters, that charity briefcase you’re referring to? It’s not something you’re going to have to worry about, because contrary to what you think and preach, the simple fact is that you’re not going to be the one who has to keep an eye out for when that mindless loudmouth idiot decides to come trotting along to shoot his shot.



The general feeling from the paying customers in response to McIntyre’s opening statement would appear to suggest that they’d much rather Warhorse was the champ instead of either the current holder or the number one contender.

Drew McIntyre: You’re not the first person to criticize the manner of how I went about becoming champion and you probably won’t be the last either, but since accomplishing the feat there is no one that in good faith can honestly say I don’t deserve to hold this title. So whilst you may have relied on the numerical advantage to help you get desired outcome at Summerslam, I on the other hand engaged in an all-out war that was undoubtedly the toughest test I’ve had to face since coming back into the UWF fold. And whilst I can’t say I’ll ever be the best of pals with Kyle O’Reilly, I am gracious enough to acknowledge and credit him for putting up one hell of a fight that night.

The apparent praise for O’Reilly from McIntyre is a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one as the crowd follow up with a round of applause in support of the words. The champ doesn’t seem bothered either way by the response as he continues to focus solely on Zayn.

Drew McIntyre: I bet it’s eating away inside of you a little, isn’t it Sami? The fact that he ended up falling short that evening and now rather than getting a chance to even the score with him, you’re having to face a much deadlier and far less forgiving threat instead. Sure on the face of it you can act the confident man by trying to belittle me whilst also criticizing other individuals who are of little relevance, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that you’ve truly drawn the short straw in this particular predicament. So from a proper champion to the make believe one, pack up your ego, that rusting relic on your shoulder and the two county fair entertainment acts, and get the hell out of my ring!

As Drew lowers his microphone and shoots some daggers Zayn’s way, the number one contender seems to be pondering his options for a moment, but instead of issuing a response he appears instead to heed McIntyre’s advice and decides to exit the ring, instructing Generico and Luchadora to do the same.

Mauro Ranallo: Perhaps McIntyre’s chilling words have resonated with Zayn and made him realize that this isn’t the sort of fight to go picking at this time.

Corey Graves: On the contrary, I’m inclined to say this is a smart move. Sami isn’t competing tonight and therefore has no reason to ruin a peaceful night by turning things physical.

Zayn points in two different directions of the ring, appearing to indicate that he wants Generico and Luchadora to exit by those sides. As McIntyre glances at both for a moment, he quickly turns his eyes back towards Zayn in acknowledgment of the fact that he possesses the greater threat of the trio. Luchadora exits first and Zayn with his eyes fixed in a stare off with McIntyre backs himself towards the ropes and exits through the middle rope. But as soon as hit feet hit the ground, Generico suddenly abandons his exit plan and jumps McIntyre from behind, catching the UWF Champion completely off guard with some fast-flurrying blows to the back of the head that end up flooring him and gets the crowd up on their feet in excitement.

Tom Phillips: That sneaky luchador just pulled a fast one on McIntyre! Is Sami Zayn actually capable of doing anything that doesn’t require assistance from his cronies??

As Zayn looks on intently from the outside, Generico eases off on his attack and starts yelling in incredibly broken Spanish in the hopes of encouraging McIntyre to get back on his feet so he can take him down again. The Scotsman crawls a short distance and makes use of the ropes to pull himself back onto his feet before leaning against one of the corner turnbuckle pads in order to try and regain his composure. As Generico sees the opportunity to deliver a potentially killing blow, his charge at full speed is met with a Claymore from McIntyre which ends up turning him inside out.

Mauro Ranallo: Goodnight El Generico! I hope you didn’t blink and miss that one Sami!

Following the devastating move that the crowd are quick to show appreciation for, McIntyre kicks himself back onto his feet and looks on with rage at Zayn who doesn’t seem to know what to make of what he just witnessed. La Luchadora on the other hand is visibly upset and angry at seeing her running buddy getting taken down, but Zayn puts his arm out in order to prevent her from entering the ring, which instead gives the visibly dazed Generico some time to roll to the outside whilst champion and challenger remain locked in a stare off.

Tom Phillips: I think Sami Zayn may well have just witnessed a sneak preview of what’s to come for him in the UWF Title match.

Corey Graves: All I have to say is that Sami Zayn isn’t El Generico, Phillips. As terrifying as McIntyre is, he’s going to have to do a hell of a lot more than that to keep his title from falling into The Forever Champion’s hands.

With Luchadora now heading over to tend to Generico, Zayn’s gaze remains fixed on McIntyre who returns the favor and raises the UWF Championship high in the air for him and everyone else to see as Revolution cuts away to a commercial break.




The scene opens up on Vinny Marseglia rocking back and forth in a rocking chair aesthetically similar to Bray Wyatt’s as he holds a Fiend mask in his hands, looking at it as he rocks and begins to speak.

Vinny Marseglia: You know, Trevor, you really are in an unenviable position tonight. I mean, have you had ample time to process what you’ve done and have gotten yourself into enough to know what you’re going to say? And when you say it, is it going to satiate the masses that are waiting for the explanations they feel owed or is it going to all be failure to live up to expectation and hype? Well you can put yourself at ease when it comes to yours truly listening, because I don’t put any pressure on you tonight and the reason for that is because what you have to say for yourself and everything that’s transpired and all that, I’ve already made up my mind about you and what must be done. The words and the actions, or if you want to call it cause let’s call it cause, just intensify my desire to carry out that decided upon effect. And sure one of the big questions is who ultimately dangled the carrot in front of who. Was it you that baited me when you had the audacity and gall to claim yourself better and destroy my throne or was it me that baited you when I told you comeuppance was coming whenever you were ready to come test the theory that you’re better and then went after Lance Cade in the crowd? I sincerely hope you have an answer to that question and give it at some point, even if it isn’t tonight. But not just that, because while I questioned how much you’ve truly processed what’s at hand, I know how much I have and the more I mull over it, the more questions I have that I want answered because the more I ponder, I see things from an additional perspective or angle, or I approach it differently.

That would drive a sane person mental having all that analysis bouncing around the ol’ think tank but for me, someone who isn’t sane, it gets me salivating because it’s a layered puzzle for me to work. See, you may have forgotten, or maybe you never understood in the first place, but I pick apart and break a man psychologically long before I do it physically. It adds to the fun taking apart the psyche as well as the flesh and bone. But again, no pressure on you, Trevor. It doesn’t have to all be answered tonight. There’s plenty of time for all of it. Because time, well it once belonged to Bray Wyatt but it now belongs to me which means you’ll get to speak your peace about things, Trevor, but I’m in control of the duration. And your comeuppance won’t be painless or quick, not by a long shot, but it isn’t enough to just say that. It isn’t enough to bulge my eyes and tilt my head or take my voice up or down, swing my axe about, or whatever other pizazz I can sprinkle on the warning. Because you’re another one that views themself as untouchable. You’re the God of UWF so in your mind, my arms aren’t long enough to strike any part of you and, as a result, I won’t even get to touch a thread on the hem of your garment. Well here’s a few questions that I will share tonight, Trevor. If you’re in the business of cutting people down, why am I the one with the axe?

Vinny stands up.

If you’re the almighty smiter…

Vinny throws the mask to the ground and stomps on it repeatedly.

Then why am I the one with the kill count?

Vinny turns and throws the rocking chair now before returning his attention to the camera in front of him.

While you were jerking the curtain at Final Battle and getting your teeth and title reign kicked down your throat before fleeing back to Harlan, I was making a fool and liar out of Bray Wyatt. Just like I’ll make a fool and liar out of you in the long run and just like I’ll make a fool and liar of Roman Reigns tonight. Roman, you say I’m not feeling the effects of Last Heart Beating II just because I didn’t limp to the ring or anything like that but I’m going to point out once again that no, I’m not one hundred percent but I don’t need to be because I’m in your head and you graciously opened the door to make that possible which, I promise you, is a bigger mistake than what you’re writing off your loss at Summerslam to be. But I’ll put you in the same conversation as guys like Bray Wyatt and Trevor Lee, it just won’t have anything to do with the UWF Championship outside of this former UWF Champion making you bow down in reverence as well as fear. Acknowledge that.

Vinny walks offscreen as Revolution continues elsewhere.




UWF Revolution continues to roll as the cameras cut backstage to Finn Balor who is seen in the locker room doing curls while getting prepared for his match against Spike Dudley. With none of the other Mafia members in sight there is a knock on the door, thinking that it could be Damian Priest or Rhea Ripley, Balor grants access.

Finn Balor
Come In!



Finn Balor doesn’t pay any mind and continues to curl his dumbbells before looking up and noticing that it's Dominik Mysterio who entered the locker room. Upon noticing Dom, Balor continues to curl his dumbbells while he quickly utters some words to Dominik Mysterio.

Finn Balor
You know you’ve got some serious nerves showing up in here.

Balor doesn't make any eye contact with Dom and he is focused on his upcoming match, but Dom still decides to speak back to Balor.

Mafia Dom
I know, I know, I get it. You’re still upset about me trying to win the Television Championship, but what was I supposed to do? Continue to let you treat me like I’m some piece of lint hanging from your coat tails? I did what everybody in their right mind would’ve done and that's go for the prize, you can't hate me for that.

Balor still doesn't make any contact with Mafia Dom as he curled his dumbbells

Finn Balor
Oh yeah? Just watch me.

Dom begins to raise his voice at Finn Balor as he speaks.

Mafia Dom
If anything I should hate you, you’re the one who backstabbed me. I already had the match won but instead of the referee counting you allowed my father to get one up on me before taking the victory yourself. You used me, for your own gain , you used me so that you could retain your Championship. That's just selfish.

After hearing the words coming from Dom, Balor finally grew angry as he dropped the dumbbells and responded to Dom.

Finn Balor
I used you?! You’re just angry that I outsmarted you and put a halt to your plans. You wanted the spotlight, you wanted the glory, you wanted the championship and you failed, but yet you call me selfish? You’re the one who walked out on The Mafia and thought you were gonna break barriers but instead all you did was notice that you’re actually nothing without us! Now That’s selfish!

Dom strokes his chin before responding to Finn Balor.

Mafia Dom
I get that, but at least I’m trying to make up for it unlike you, youre just throwing it back into my face.

Balor laughs before responding to Dominik Mysterio.

Finn Balor
You wanna make it up to me, go tell Orange Cassidy I want his Intercontinental Championship.



Balor then picks up his Television Championship and throws it over his shoulder as he walks out of the locker room leaving Dominik Mysterio to ponder on what he just said.




Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the Prime Time Medal!



The lighting in the arena changes from normal to alternating between red, white, and green as “Our World” hits the PA System. The entrance curtain opens, and Zelina walks out onto the stage, greeted by some cheers from the crowd before walking down the entrance ramp.

Tony Chimel: Introducing first… From Queens, New York… Representing the LWO, ZELINA VEGA!

Mauro Ranallo: Zelina has a very big opportunity tonight when she takes on Jamie Hayter for the Prime Time Medal. What would be the best course of action for Zelina?

Corey Graves: As Jamie Hayter put it, all Zelina needs to do is lie down and pray that Jamie doesn’t beat her too bad.

Tom Phillips: Zelina really doesn’t have a prayer tonight. She’s like a lamb walking to the slaughter.

Zelina climbs up onto the apron and enters the ring as “Our World” fades out.



“I am a shadow, I am tomorrow…
I am a hero with a buggy whip…”

“Teenage Nosferatu Pussy” by Rob Zombie hits the PA System and the crowd instantly gets to their collective feet, beginning to give off a mostly positive reaction. The entrance curtain opens, and Jamie Hayter walks out onto the stage, greeted by the reaction intensifying. She makes her way down the entrance ramp with a purpose.

Tony Chimel: Her opponent… From Southampton, England… She is the Prime Time Medalist… JAMIE HAYTER!!!

Mauro Ranallo: Here comes Jamie, and she is the solid favorite for this match.

Corey Graves: In more ways than one. Not only does she have the the height and weight advantage, she also has the power advantage.

Tom Phillips: She’s also said that she can the speed and agility of Zelina Vega.

Jamie makes it to ringside and climbs up onto the apron. She enters the ring and removes the Prime Time Medal from her waist before hoisting it up much to the delight of the onlooking crowd. Jamie then approaches Zelina and rubs it in her face that she is the Prime Time Medalist. Jamie walks over to the southeast corner and hands the belt to the time keeper before turning her attention to Zelina as “Teenage Nosferatu Pussy” fades out. The opening bells and chants of “Jamie! Jamie! Jamie!” overtake the chants supporting Zelina.

VS

Mauro Ranallo: There’s the opening bell, and the crowd is solidly behind Jamie Hayter.

Corey Graves: I don’t like Jamie, but there’s no denying her popularity.

Tom Phillips: This has to play some sort of mind games with Zelina.

Jamie quickly approaches Zelina with Zelina trying to avoid the Lord and Savior despite being backed into the northeast corner. Jamie throws a punch but Zelina dodges and kicks Jamie’s left leg. Jamie comes out of the corner and backs Zelina into the southwest corner, but before Jamie can throw a punch, Zelina rolls out of the way and backs into the southeast corner with Jamie following her. Jamie attempts to throw a punch, but Zelina ducks and backs Jamie into the same corner. With Jamie in the corner, Zelina kicks her left leg again and punches Jamie in the face. Zelina punches Jamie – once, twice, three times, four times, five times, six times, seven times, eight times, nine times – until Jamie grabs Zelina by the top, backs her up and throws Zelina over the top rope with Zelina crashing to the floor on the outside while the crowd lets out a collective “OH!”

Mauro Ranallo: Zelina tried to mount an offense early on but to no avail.

Corey Graves: Jamie almost threw her into the third row at ringside.

Tom Phillips: This goes to show that even while hurt, Jamie is still very dangerous and powerful.

The referee begins the count. ONE! TWO! THREE! Zelina gets up to a knee and looks at Jamie in disbelief. FOUR! Zelina gets to her feet and looks at Jamie with the look of disbelief still on her face. FIVE! SIX! Zelina walks up the steel steps as Jamie lies in wait. SEVEN! Zelina is on the apron. Jamie approaches Zelina and Zelina catches Jamie with a shoulder to the midsection. Zelina follows it up with punching Jamie – once, twice, three times, four times, five times – before attempting a springboard. Right when Zelina jumps up for a springboard, Jamie punches her in the face, sending Zelina crashing back down to the floor on the outside while the crowd lets out another “OH!”

Mauro Ranallo: Zelina tried to use her speed and agility, but Jamie was right there waiting.

Corey Graves: You’re not kidding. She sent Zelina right back down to the floor.

Tom Phillips: I think Zelina might be outmatched here.

After a few moments, Jamie leaves the ring in pursuit of Zelina. As soon as Zelina gets back to her feet, Jamie clubs her in the back with a forearm, causing Zelina to stumble forward into the apron. Jamie grabs Zelina by the hair and shorts, and she rolls Zelina into the ring with Zelina’s head dangling over the apron. With Zelina’s head exposed to the outside of the ring, Jamie backs up and then hits Zelina in the side of the head with a running big boot. Jamie sets Zelina’s head up again and climbs up onto the apron. She approaches Zelina’s head and jumps up. Zelina rolls out of the way and Jamie lands on her feet on the outside. Jamie grabs Zelina by the hair and dangles her head over the bottom rope before nailing Zelina’s throat with an elbow. Jamie climbs up onto the apron again and approaches Zelina’s head. This time, Jamie jumps up and drops her shin across the throat of Zelina before landing on her feet on the outside while Zelina clutches her throat and rolls around the ring.

Mauro Ranallo: Zelina thought she was one step ahead of Jamie.

Corey Graves: Yeah, but Jamie was more than ready for her.

Tom Phillips: Jamie really made Zelina pay for it.

The referee checks on Zelina while Jamie climbs up onto the apron and into the ring. With Jamie back in the ring, she waits for Zelina to get back to her feet. Zelina stumbles back to her feet and Jamie kicks her in the stomach and grabs her by the arm, looking for the HAYTERADE, but Zelina kicks Jamie in the stomach. Zelina attempts the Fly Cutter, but Jamie grasps Zelina and throws her down to the mat. Jamie reaches down to grab Zelina’s head but before she can capitalize, Zelina kicks her in the nose – once, twice – before Jamie is able to stomp on Zelina’s face. Jamie runs to the ropes and after she bounces off the ropes, she attempts an elbow drop, but Zelina rolls out of the way, causing Jamie’s elbow to smack into the canvas. Jamie quickly gets up and both she and Zelina get to their feet. Zelina runs to ropes and bounces off of them. Jamie attempts a HAYTERADE and Zelina ducks. Zelina bounces off the ropes again and Jamie catches her in the face with a Big Boot as the crowd lets out an “OH” and cheers. The camera does a close-up of Jamie and she’s bleeding from the nose.

Mauro Ranallo: Once again, the power of Jamie has come into play.

Corey Graves: She didn’t come away unscathed on that one, though.

Tom Phillips: I think it was one of those kicks that caught Jamie’s nose.

Jamie wipes the blood from her nose and she approaches Zelina, who rolls out of the ring and to the floor. Jamie leaves the ring in pursuit of Zelina. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Zelina gets to her feet. FIVE! Zelina turns around, and she’s caught by another big boot to the face from Jamie. SIX! Jamie rolls into the ring and rolls back out to the floor in order to stop and restart the count. ONE! Jamie approaches Zelina as she gets to her feet again. TWO! Zelina turns around right into another big boot from Jamie. THREE! Jamie rolls into the ring again and rolls back out in order to stop and restart the count again with Zelina still laid out on the floor.

Mauro Ranallo: Jamie’s doing the smart thing here.

Corey Graves: Each time the referee has started counting, Jamie’s broken it up.

Tom Phillips: Can’t get counted out if the count keeps getting broken.

ONE! Zelina stumbles to her feet and uses the ring post to prop herself up. TWO! Jamie sizes Zelina up and runs at her. THREE! Jamie attempts a running big boot, but Zelina ducks out of the way, causing Jamie to collide with the post. FOUR! Zelina rolls into the ring, breaking up the count. With Jamie in a precarious position, Zelina charges at her dropkicks Jamie’s leg against the steel post. Jamie screams in pain and clutches her leg as she falls to the floor while the crowd lets out another “OH!”

Mauro Ranallo: With that, Zelina has given herself an opening.

Corey Graves: She has to stay on top of Jamie if she wants any chance of winning.

Tom Phillips: Jamie doesn’t stay down for very long.

Zelina rolls out onto the apron as Jamie stumbles to her feet. Right when Jamie turns around, Zelina runs at her and jumps off of the apron, and attempts a hurricanrana. However, Jamie has the wherewithal to lift Zelina back up onto her shoulders and backs up against the ring, attempting a powerbomb. Zelina is able to grab the middle and pulls herself out of the clutches of Jamie. When Jamie turns around, Zelina springboards off of the rope and takes Jamie down with a crossbody while the crowd lets out a collective gasp.

Mauro Ranallo: Zelina was able to get out of that powerbomb attempt from Jamie.

Corey Graves: Not only that, Zelina was able to take Jamie down with a crossbody.

Tom Phillips: She has the advantage now.

ONE! TWO! Jamie and Zelina start to stir a little bit. THREE! Jamie sits up and wipes more blood from her nose while Zelina climbs to her feet. FOUR! Zelina rolls into the ring under the bottom rope and breaks the count. Zelina backs into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring while Jamie gets to her feet. Jamie is about to climb into the ring when Zelina runs at her and attempts a baseball slide, but Jamie sidesteps and Zelina lands on her on the floor. Jamie grabs Zelina by the throat and throws her into the barricade. Zelina’s back and head violently slams against the barricade as the crowd lets out and “OH!” Jamie rolls into the ring before the referee even has the chance to start counting.

Mauro Ranallo: Mama mia! What a display of power from Jamie.

Corey Graves: She almost put Zelina through the barricade.

Tom Phillips: Jamie’s incensed after Zelina busted her nose.

Jamie rolls back out of the ring and grabs Zelina. Meanwhile, a replay of Jamie slamming Zelina against the barricade is shown while Jamie rolls Zelina back into the ring. Back to the live action, Jamie slides back into the ring, and crawls over to Zelina, and goes for the pin. ONE! TWO! Zelina kicks out and the crowd lets out a collective “TWO!” Jamie picks Zelina up and grabs her by the arm. She pulls Zelina into her and thrusts her shoulder against Zelina’s arm before lifting Zelina up, and dropping her throat-first on the top rope. With Zelina back on the ground, Jamie drops to the mat and starts choking Zelina with her hand while the referee counts. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Jamie releases the choke and Zelina rolls away.

Mauro Ranallo: Now, we see Jamie in control of this match once again.

Corey Graves: What did I say? Zelina needs to stay on top of Jamie. She can’t let Jamie have even a split second to breathe, because Jamie has a knack for turning the tide in that same split second.

Tom Phillips: Yeah, she’s that resourceful.

Zelina rolls over to the corner and Jamie approaches her. Jamie brings Zelina to her feet in the corner and punches her in the ribs. Zelina drops to a seated position and the referee tries to stop Jamie, but Jamie glares at him and he backs off. Turning her attention back to Zelina again, Jamie stomps on her head, dropping Zelina to the mat. Jamie picks Zelina up by the hair and brings her to the middle of the ring, and whips her to the ropes. After Zelina bounces off the ropes, Jamie takes her down with a Powerslam, and goes for the pin while hooking the leg. ONE! TWO THR-NO! Zelina kicks out and the crowd lets out a collective “TWO!” Jamie gets back to her feet and pulls Zelina to her feet by her hair.

Mauro Ranallo: Jamie has Zelina by the hair again. What’s she got in store now?

Corey Graves: Nothing good for Zelina. That’s for sure.

Tom Phillips: Jamie’s got some nasty intentions for sure.

It isn’t Jamie who acts, but Zelina. Zelina kicks Jamie’s right leg – once, twice, three times, four times, five times – and Jamie releases Zelina’s hair. After Jamie releases Zelina’s hair, Zelina starts throwing punches at Jamie’s face, punching Jamie in the face – once, twice – before Jamie punches Zelina in the face, knocking Zelina to the mat. Jamie picks Zelina up by the hair again, and Zelina drops to a seated position, driving her head into Jamie’s jaw before stumbling back to a corner. With Zelina in the corner, Jamie charges at her and Zelina gets her feet up, catching Jamie with a foot to the face. With Jamie reeling, Zelina climbs up to the top rope and jumps off, taking Jamie down with a diving crossbody and rolls off of the Lord and Savior to catch a breath. Zelina gets up to her hands and knees while Jamie sits up.

Mauro Ranallo: Uh-oh. Jamie’s getting back up already.

Corey Graves: That plays mind games like you wouldn’t believe.

Tom Phillips: Zelina’s probably wondering what she has to do.

With Jamie sitting up, Zelina runs to the ropes and after bouncing off the ropes, Zelina takes Jamie back down with a dropkick, knocking Jamie back down. Zelina climbs up to the top rope and jumps off, landing on Jamie with a moonsault as the crowd “Oohs” and “Aahs.” Zelina goes for the pin. ONE! TWO! THR-NO! Jamie kicks out and Zelina slowly gets back to her feet. Jamie gets up to one knee and Zelina punches Jamie in the face – once, twice, three times – before backing into the ropes. When Zelina bounces off the ropes, she runs right into an elbow to the face from Jamie as the crowd cheers. Jamie gets back to her feet and brings Zelina to her feet. With Zelina on her feet, Jamie attempts the HAYTERADE, but Zelina ducks. When Jamie turns to face her, Zelina hits her with a Fly Cutter, which looks more like a Stunner considering the height difference. Jamie is on wobbly legs. Zelina does a second Fly Cutter, and Jamie still doesn’t fall. Zelina hits a third Fly Cutter, and Jamie still won’t go down. Zelina climbs up to the top rope.

Mauro Ranallo: That was a third Fly Cutter, but Jamie still won’t go down.

Corey Graves: Yeah, but Zelina’s got Jamie where she wants her.

Tom Phillips: Now, Zelina is climbing up to the top rope.

Jamie turns around to face Zelina, and Zelina jumps off in another diving crossbody attempt. Zelina thinks that she’ll be successful, but Jamie is ready for her and goes for the HAYTERADE, catching Zelina in the neck with her arm in mid-air as the crowd and commentators look on in amazement. Zelina falls to the mat and folds up like an accordion

Mauro Ranallo: MAMA MIA! I DON’T BELIEVE WHAT WE JUST SAW!

Corey Graves: Zelina tried to utilize her speed, but Jamie managed to get one step ahead of her.

Tom Phillips: What a counter. That was amazing!

With Zelina knocked out from being caught in midair with the HAYTERADE, Jamie goes for the cover while hooking the leg. ONE! TWO! THREE! The bell rings and the crowd explodes with cheers as “Teenage Nosferatu Pussy” hits the PA System once again.

Tony Chimel: Here’s your winner and STILL the Prime Time Medalist, JAMIE HAYTER!



Mauro Ranallo: For a little while there, Zelina had Jamie reeling.

Corey Graves: Yeah, but in the end, Jamie came out on top.

Tom Phillips: What a hell of a match.

The timekeeper hands the referee the Prime Time Medal. The referee hands Jamie her Prime Time Medal belt and raises her arm while Jamie raises the belt with her other arm as the crowd engulfs her with the never-wavering ovation.




We see Warhorse sitting backstage. He’s sitting on a stage crew box, has his treasured, newly won, Money in the Bank briefcase by his side.



WARHORSE: HEY, IT’S WARHORSE. YOU MIGHT’VE BEEN SHOCKED ON SUMMERSLAM. FOR MANY REASONS. I MEAN ALL AROUND IT WAS A PRETTY SHOCKING AFFAIR. A LOT HAPPENED. ANYONE WHO WATCHED SURELY RECOGNISES THAT.

ASIDE FROM WRESTLEMANIA, IT IS THE BIGGEST STAGE OF THE WHOLE DAMN YEAR. FRANKLY, I PREFER SUMMERSLAM BECAUSE IT’S AT LEAST HOT OUTSIDE. THERE’S THAT ASPECT… ALSO. MOST NOTABLY, THIS HAPPENED.

Warhorse lifts up and places back down his Money in the Bank briefcase, gesturing to it slightly.

A LOT OF PEOPLE BET ON WRESTLING AND IF THEY BET ON MY MATCH, THERE WAS PROBABLY A HELLUVA LOT OF MONEY LOST. I DIDN’T REALLY THINK IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. I DON’T THINK I REALLY HAD A LOT OF BELIEVERS OUT THERE FOR ME TO WIN IT. SO, AFTER WINNING IT, WHAT’S NEXT.

I’M NOT PARTICULARLY SURE. ALL I KNOW FOR DAMN SURE IS THAT I’M JUST GONNA KEEP TRYING TO BE PROUD OF THE MAN I AM. TONIGHT I HAVE A MATCH, TONIGHT, I’M GOING TO KEEP SWINGING LIKE I KNOW I CAN.

Warhorse pauses, kind of uneasy for the first time when addressing the UWF audience. He was true to his word for once.

AND PEOPLE RUN THEIR MOUTHS ABOUT ME ALL THE DAMN TIME. I HEAR THEM. I HEAR THEM VERY CLEARLY. IT’S ALMOST DEAFENING SOMETIMES. I DIDN’T EVEN SHOOT A PROMO. BUT I TRIED, YOU KNOW THOUGH, FINDING PRODUCERS IS PRETTY HARD THE WEEK OF SUMMERSLAM. I SHOULD’VE PROBABLY THOUGHT THAT OUT WHEN FIRING HELLWIG.

SO I’M HERE, JUST TALKING LIKE THIS TO THE CAMERA FOR NOW. AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COMMUNICATE MYSELF ANYMORE. I ALMOST FEEL LOST, BUT RECOGNISING THAT I’M LOST MUST SURELY BE AN INDICATOR THAT I’M ON THE PATH TO FINDING MYSELF.

WINNING MONEY IN THE BANK MEANS I HAVE A SHOT WHENEVER I WANT AT THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP. ORANGE CASSIDY TRIED TO TELL EVERYONE IN THE BUILDUP TO SUMMERSLAM THAT HE’S WORTH CASHING IN ON FOR HIS BELT, BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT IT’S WORTH WASTING MY OPPORTUNITY CASHING IN ON THAT. AS I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I REALLY WANT.

Warhorse looks a little more fired up, slightly agitated.

WHAT I WANT IS TO KICK DREW MCINTYRE’S ASS AND LIFT HIS BELT. WHAT I WANT TO DO IS EMBARRASS HIM. NOT WHEN HE EXPECTS IT, THAT’S TOO EASY. GENETICS HAVE BEEN KIND TO THE MISERABLE BASTARD, HE PACKS ON MORE MUSCLE THAN ME, HE’S A HELLUVA LOT TALLER THAN ME, AND SOME WOULD SAY THAT MAKES HIM A BETTER FIGHTER THAN ME.

BUT THAT IS WHERE I ADAMANTLY DISAGREE, DREW MCINTYRE IS A MAN OF BURST ENERGY, HE’S A BULLY. THROUGH AND THROUGH THE MAN THRIVES BY BULLYING PEOPLE HE THINKS ARE LESSER THAN HIM. HE GETS OFF ON THINKING HE’S ALWAYS THE BIGGER MAN.

WELL. IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL SICK. IT MAKES ME WANT TO PROVE HIM WRONG. IT MAKES ME WANT TO BE… BETTER. IT MAKES ME WANT TO BE WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT THE BEST MAN TO BE THE CHAMPION. IT MAKES ME WANT TO WORK HARDER THAN I’VE EVER WORKED. WORK BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE 110%. IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM.

LOOK AT HIS MATCH WITH KYLE O’REILLY ON SUMMERSLAM. I PULLED FOR THE GUY JUST HOPING HE’D PROVE HIM WRONG. AND IN A SENSE HE DID, BUT HE WON’T RECOGNISE THAT. MCINTYRE HAD TO KNOCK O’REILLY THE FUCK OUT TO WIN. THERE’S THAT MUCH SPIRIT IN THE GUY AND I COMMEND THAT.

SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO BE BETTER THAN KYLE? WHAT DO I HAVE TO FUEL MYSELF WITH TO BE WORTHY ENOUGH TO PROVE MY NAYSAYERS WRONG.

Warhorse slowly hops off this box he’s been sitting on.

ALL I CAN DO. ALL I CAN DO IS RULE ASS, TRUST IN THE PROCESS, HIT THE GYM, SAY MY PRAYERS, ABSOLUTELY DEMOLISH MY VITAMINS, AND FIGHT. IF I’VE GOT IT IN ME TO BE THAT DEFIANT AND BE THAT MAN, YOU’VE JUST GOTTA WAIT AND SEE AND BELIEVE IN ME.

Warhorse takes his Money in the Bank briefcase and walks away, with this powerful message of intent stated.




With the cameras returning from a commercial break, or something of the sort, things would settle down on the ringside area, things seeming prepared for our next matchup…only for the lights to dim down to pure darkness, spreading throughout the arena with only the cell phone flashlights of those in attendance able to pierce through it. However, even then, it proves to be a fruitless endeavor, as the lights do not seem keen on returning; That is, until a faint electronic hum begins to build throughout the sound system.



With a brilliant flash, a gleaming spotlight shines down upon the center of the entrance stage, a lone, glimmering beacon in the blackness of the arena. And from that beacon, a lone figure begins to rise. Slowly but steadily, they ascend higher and higher from the depths of the arena below, until finally standing on equal footing with the rest of the entrance stage…and as the spotlight turns into a sickening red that matches the grin on the face of one Mister Trevor Lee, those iconic first lyrics play themselves out...

"THE ROAD I WALK IS PAVED IN GOLD"
"TO GLORIFY MY PLATINUM SOUL"

And the one and only God of Professional Wrestling begins what has become his long-awaited stroll down the UWF ramp.

Notably, as Mister Trevor Lee makes his way down the ramp, there is little-to-no movement in his face, a grin permanently etched onto his face; a mask that has been reinforced since the last time it had cracked, back at Final Battle of this year. That wouldn’t be the only thing of note, however, as Trevor would be shown to have lost some weight - roughly ten or so pounds of it, as the UWF World Heavyweight Championship no longer bears its place around his waist, given the aforementioned final battle he fought.

Regardless of weight or lack thereof, however, Mister Trevor Lee looks upon the fans here in the Little Caesar’s Arena with nothing but love in his eyes, even through their hate, vitriol and scorn that is thrown his way. No matter what they say, or who tries reaching out towards him, Lee simply turns the other cheek, acting only as a God should, as he walks up the steel stairs, and with a manufactured calmness to his motions, enters the ring, procuring a microphone from a stage hand all the while.

Trevor Lee: ”Well, well, well…have ya’ missed me, folks?”

Without hesitation, the fans rain down yet more spite onto Trevor Lee, who effortlessly brushes it off.

Trevor Lee: ”Glad to hear it, glad to hear it. Now, ‘fore I get on down to some business ‘bout my lil’ ol’ return back at Summerslam, I think it’s ‘bout time that I clear up a bit o’ mis-con-cep-tion ‘bout what happened way back at Final Battle…”

After a moment’s pause, Lee takes a deep breath, and begins to pace around the ring.

Trevor Lee: ”Ya’ see, after what had gone down at Backlash, when I defended that there U-Dubya-Eff Worl’ Heavyweight Championship ‘gainst that masked lunatic, I was on top o’ the whole darn worl’, folks. I was the champ, I had the mask, I had the lovin’ an’ praise o’ each an’ every one o’ ya’ out there in the crowd, I was untouchable! But then…then somethin’ happened - somethin’ that’s rather unbecomin’ o’ a God, somethin’ that frankly, I ain’t ever gon’ let happen ‘gain in my life: I got myself a bit…paranoid. I started worryin’ ‘bout what was gon’ come next. I started worryin’ ‘bout who was out there, ready to try an’ knock me off o’ my throne. I started hidin’ away, keepin’ myself out o’ reach from anyone an’ everyone in the U-Dubya-Eff, an’ in the process, I let my guard down.”

Lee, for the first time since returning, shows some irritation as he looks to the hard cam.

Trevor Lee: ”I let my guard down, an’ it costed me the U-Dubya-Eff Worl’ Heavyweight Championship. The gold that made me into a God had been stripped away from me, an’ mista’ McIntyre managed to sneak his way into what was meant to be my pantheon. An’ not just that, but he darn near took my head off wit’ that there Claymore kick, an’ I can only assume that on the eve o’ my Final Battle, he had left all y’all in despair, believin’ that the one true God o’ the U-Dubya-Eff had been slain…”

After a few seconds, Lee stops his pacing, and his grin returns, full force once more.

Trevor Lee: ”But unlike in them fancy myths an’ legens’, this God never dies, folks! Mister Trevor Lee didn’t die from the slashin’ blade o’ mista’ McIntyre - all it lef’ was a flesh woun’, an’ that woun’ is somethin’ that, whether it be tonight or in a hundred year’s time, I will pay back with a wrath an’ vengeance so gran’ that I will be the one who ya’ write them myths and legens’ ‘bout!”

With such a declaration, Trevor Lee pauses to once again let the fans get their jeers in, before continuing.

Trevor Lee: ”But ‘fore I go on an’ take my revenge for the sacrilege committed ‘gainst me…there is one man who I need to speak to directly…”

A beat of silence follows, as Lee steps towards the hard cam, until nearly the entire frame of the camera is filled with just his face, that grin remaining on full display.

Trevor Lee: ”Mista’ Marseglia...I know that ya’ watchin’ this right now, be it from the locker room, the doctor’s office, or ya’ fancy schmancy throne. I know that ya’ watchin’, an’ that right ‘bout now, you’re feelin’ the weight o’ that crown atop your skull an’ the blade o’ ya’ axe that surely sits in ya’ hands, usin’ ya’ own body as a scale to determine whether the actions o’ a psychopath are those worthy o’ bein’ the actions o’ a king. But ‘fore ya’ go on ahead an’ make that there judgement call, let me tell ya’ somethin’, mista’ Marseglia; Nah, nah nah nah nah nah, nah in fact, let me explain to ya’ why I went an’ attacked ya’ at Summerslam, an’ why I lef’ ya’ laid out on the night when ya’ shoulda’ been celebratin’ ya’ victory over mista’ Firefly.”

Upon saying this, Lee finally backs up, and the pacing begins anew, his eyes locked onto the hard cam the entire time.

Trevor Lee: ”Ya’ see, mista’ Marseglia, ever since ya’ decided to come back to the U-Dubya-Eff, all that I heard ‘bout from my folks down in Harlan was that they wanted to see me go after ya’. They wanted to see what happens when a king meets wit’ God, an’ what type o’ madness they could create wit’ each other. But mista’ Marseglia, as much as I had respected ya’ an’ as much as I had praised ya’ an’ as much as I had worshipped ya’ back when I was a mortal like ya’self, when it came time for me to ascen’ to bein’ the God o’ Professional ‘Rasslin, I realized somethin’: For a king to act like a God, it means they are neither royalty nor a deity, only a fool.”

What that means, mista’ Marseglia, is that while ya’ call ya’self the Horror King, an’ ya’ claim that there is nothin’ ya’ seek from Godhood, there are people out there who believe in ya’ as if ya’ were able to stan’ right beside me in my own pantheon-, I used to believe in ya’ as though ya’ were part o’ this pantheon o’ mine! But now that I am standin’ ‘ere, now that I am stood inside this pantheon o’ my own makin’, now that I am a God, I see ya’ for exactly what ya’ are, mista’ Marseglia, an’ that is nothin’ but a fool who is actin’ as though he belons’ up on that throne! One who believes that might equals right, one who believes that those who stan’ up ‘gainst him deserve to have their heads placed onto the guillotine, one who sees himself as the judge jury an’ executioner, one who had seen exactly what I became an’ became JEALOUS that the man who use’ to be nothin’ but a fan o’ yours now had become better than ya’ in every conceivable aspect!”

Trevor Lee’s pacing quickens, his grin starting to crack once more with every detail he exhumes of both of their careers.

Trevor Lee: ”The U-Dubya-Eff Television Title? I held it, an’ I held it longer than ya’ ever could! The Royal Rumble? I won that, an’ unlike ya’self, I actually had to fight an’ scrape an’ crawl my way to victory, rather than relyin’ on the luck o’ the draw! The U-Dubya-Eff Worl’ Championship? I won that, an’ then I went on to put a permanent en’ to one o’ the men who ya’ were too scared to come outta’ retiremen’ to face off ‘gainst, the big bad shark that prowled the rough waters o’ the U-Dubya-Eff! An’ while ya’ were frightened o’ the U-Dubya-Eff’s equivalent o’ the megalodon o’ legen’, I took his bloody head off an’ left him as nothin’ more than a man who now sings my praises the same way that I sung yours! An’ even then, even then, I still matched ya’ own title reign day-for-day, an’ the only thin’ that kept me from surpassin’ ya’ again was my own paranoia, servin’ as the single last remnant o’ my humanity!”

Now speaking through pure passion, Trevor Lee discards the grin to speak truthfully towards Vinny Marseglia.

Trevor Lee: ”An’ then, only when I am gone do ya’ decide to step off o’ that there throne o’ yours, mista’ Marseglia…”

Trevor chuckles at this, a sardonic laugh at the situation he finds himself in, before going straight-faced once more.



Trevor Lee: ”So ya’ wonder why I attacked ya’, mista’ Marseglia? Ya’ wonder why I was the one who threw the firs’ stone? Ya’ wonder why the firs’ thin’ I did when I came back was make sure to put ya’ in the groun’ where ya’ belon’? It’s ‘cause ya’ asked for it, mista’ Marseglia. Ya’ asked for it every time ya’ muttered my name, knowin’ I was gone. Ya’ asked for it every time ya’ came out in front o’ these adorin’ devotees actin’ like ya’ were their god-king. Ya’ asked for it by claimin’ that I was due comeuppance from ya’self for my actions, as though I was the one in the wrong.”

Letting a few seconds pass to collect himself, Trevor Lee keeps his head low, until the camera zooms in, and Lee’s serpentine smirk is back on full display, as he looks towards the viewers with a slightly askew glare.

Trevor Lee: ”Ya wanted a fight, mista’ Marseglia? I’ll give ya’ a holy war.”

And with that bomb dropping, so too does the microphone, as Trevor Lee stands inside the ring, as though waiting for Vinny Marseglia to come out and respond. After a few seconds, however, it is clear that the response isn’t coming, as the cameras fade…




The feed cuts to a darkened room seemingly backstage where the shadows suggest a flickering flame in an unseen foreground. Into the scene walks a man identified last week as UWF's latest signee, The Mighty Caleb. 



The Mighty Caleb: This past week's end fell a mighty event known as Summerslam. The Mighty Caleb did not have a fight on this prestigious event but I had the chance to watch on what your sorcerers who firstly brought me this 'camera' have referred to as a 'television'. I watched the magic images from the event in awe of what I saw and I must say I am truly excited to begin to battle with the fine men and women of the UWF because I have seen many things in the field of battle but at Summerslam I saw some things for the very first time. I saw many men climb ladders, hit each other with ladders in an attempt to hold a case of solid emerald. A truly noble quest for riches we can all understand. I saw two foul beasts, two demons from another realm I do not know... try and force each others heart to stop beating. I even saw one of the biggest men I have laid eyes on beyond the realm of giants... felled by a mighty Shieldmaiden. Truly remarkable and congratulations to all the victors may your celebrations be merry and may your drinks be plentiful. 

Caleb smiles for a moment before speaking again.

Tonight, The Mighty Caleb hoped that he would begin his adventure in the UWF. Alas, I have not been given a fight or a test of might but rather a test of... patience. For The Mighty Caleb has been asked to appear on something the people of this realm call a 'talk show'. The Mighty Caleb is assured that many of you find these shows entertaining and that might very well be true. The Mighty Caleb will entertain this invitation without hostility but if there was to be a... communication breakdown... then The Mighty Caleb is more than ready for battle. For The Mighty Caleb is always ready for a battle, always ready for the fight and together, tonight, I get to meet my shield brothers and sisters, all of you out there who chant SKAL and who knows?... I might even have my first fight. I'll see you all tonight, I can't wait!

Caleb rubs his hands together gleefully

Whether we talk, whether we fight... tonight The Mighty Caleb rides for the first time.... and I hope too that you ride alongside The Mighty Caleb. SKAL, SKAL SKAL!







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.



“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, the Television Champion, 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.


VS


DING DING DING


Corey Graves: I'm surprised Spike is even out here. I was hoping he realized that he just wasn't cut out for this anymore.

Mauro Ranallo: How can you say that Corey. The man is a former World Champion.

Corey Graves: How long ago was that? Sometimes you just need to realize that you do't have it anymore.


Spike looks a bit unsure of himself as both men move in to tie up. Balor gains the immediate advantage and gets him in a Side Headlock Takeover, grinding him into the mat. The Television Champion is all smiles but Spike manages to slip out and get to his feet. They go to tie up once more and this time Balor overpowers him to the corner. The ref tries to get a clean break but Balor instead simply throws Spike overhead into the middle of the ring. Balor flexes his arms at the crowd. It's not often he's the powerhouse of the match so he's making sure to eat it up. He turns back to face Dudley but Spike catches him with a Dropkick to the face! Finn is knocked backwards into the corner and Dudley runs up to him to give him the ol' 10 punches in the corner. He mages to hit about 5 of them before Balor reaches up and slams him down to the mat with a Powerbomb! He flips over into the jackknife pin!



1 . . .



2 . . .



Spike kicks out! Balor picks him up right away and gets him in position for the Bloody Sunday. Dudley is lifted into the air but he twists his body and manages to falls back into a Reverse DDT to Balor! He quickly exits the ring as the rest of the Mafia swarm him to check if he's good. Spike climbs to the top rope and jumps out with a Crossbody landing right on Balor and wiping him out! He picks him up and tosses him back into the ring before going back to the top rope. Balor hasn't moved and Spike gives him a taste of his own medicine with the Dudley Stomp! Spike makes the cover!



1 . . .



2 . . .



Balor kicks out!


Corey Graves: How dare Spike try and beat a man with his own finishing move!

Tom Phillips: Spike has been doing that Dudley Stomp for years.

Corey Graves: But Finn Balor does it better and actually wins matches with it. Why keep doing a move when someone does it so much better than you.

Mauro Ranallo: That's because despite not quite getting the job done here, it's still effective. Just look at Finn.


Mauro is right and Balor is rolling around on the mat holding his gut. Spike brings him back up but the Television Champion strikes him in the gut a few times and pushes him away. Spike runs right back at him only to get caught with the Slingblade! LSD gets back up and gets hit with another. Spike pops up a third time and manages to side step the 3rd Slingblade. Balor gets back up but eats a Headbutt to the gut that staggers him back into the corner. Spike runs at him and hits the Battering Ram! He then lifts Balor up to the top rope and goes up along with him. He jumps up and hits him with the Frankenstiener! He goes for the pin!



1 . . .



2 . . .



Balor kicks out! Spike brings him up and grabs his head. He points to the corner and goes to run up the ropes for the Dudley Dog but Balor shoves him forward and Spike hits the corner chest first. He bounces off the turnbuckles into Balor's waiting arms who catches him with a German Suplex! Spike is folded up upside down but Balor brings him up to his feet once more. He brings his head close and tells him he's nothing but Spike ends up Headbutting him! Finn gets knocked out cold and Spike looks at the top rope. He climbs up again, perhaps setting up for another Dudley Stomp. Rhea however gets on the apron and the ref tries to get her down. While that's going on Dominic jumps onto the apron and knocks his foot loose causing him to rack himself on the top rope!


Tom Phillips: We knew it'd only be a matter of time before The Mafia got involved!

Corey Graves: Dom is just trying to get back in the good graces of The Mafia. It's all about family Phillips!


Balor goes up top and sends Dudley crashing down with the Superplex! He floats over for the pin but immediately gets off. He doesn't want it to end right there. He climbs back to the top to send a message. The Television Champion gets his feet set straight before he comes flying off with the Coup De Grace! All the air gets sucked out of Spike and Balor makes the pin!



1 . . .



2 . . .



3 . . .



Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Finn Balor!



The Mafia come into the ring to celebrate with Balor. Spike rolls to the outside while Balor throws the TV title over his shoulder and mimics another title with his other hand as the live feed goes elsewhere.




We are in a clinical area that's spotless a black clock on the white walls standing out, The clicks are loud. The camera pans down to Dr Williams sitting alongside Sammy Guevara, a former tag team partner of Leyton Buzzard.

Dr Williams: "Welcome, I am Dr. Williams I am currently assisting a former friend of yours Leyton Buzzard and would like to ask a couple of questions to get a deeper understanding of Leyton Buzzard. Can you please introduce yourself and describe your relationship with Leyton Buzzard? How long have you known each other, and in what capacity did you work together?"

Guevara moves onto the armrest as he winks at Dr Williams and flashes a cheeky smile…

Sammy Guevara: “Hey sweetie, You know if after you ask these questions we can forget about Leyton and go out to dinne-”



Dr Williams: "Samuel I won’t tolerate those kinds of advancement so I ask again are you okay if I ask a couple of questions about your time around Leyton?”

Sammy Guevara: “I mean what is there to say about Leyton; The guy is a prick. You know why I don’t talk to him anymore? Huh? He threw away years of friendship for some cult lunatic who told him to Bolieve. I mean it didn’t last long but he looked me in the eyes as the lunatic tried to break my mind to follow him. As of that time he was dead to me."

Dr Williams takes a moment writing down her notes as Guevara speaks, She takes a moment rereading her freshly taken notes as she looks up and ask Guevara a follow-up question…

Dr Williams: “So Buzzard was a follower of this “cult” leader? I mean Buzzard has never mentioned anything about his time under that influence. Maybe you could give me a name and I could speak to the man behind this “cult” to gain some greater meaning?.."

Sammy Guevara: “Bo Dallas, but that is useless to know because no one has heard from that nut job in years. Buzzard seemingly is free of that influence. Buzzard tried to reconnect a year ago but I told that idiot to kick rocks and to never speak to me again.”

Dr. Williams: "And Leyton's involvement in this 'cult' – was it a significant part of his life at that time?"

Sammy Guevara: "Significant? That's an understatement. He was obsessed with it. Spent all his time listening to Bo's nonsense, going on about 'Bolieving' in this and that. It was like he'd lost touch with reality."

Dr. Williams listens intently, recognizing the depth of Leyton's involvement.

Dr. Williams: "I see. It sounds like it had a profound impact on Leyton. You mentioned he tried to reconnect with you recently. Can you tell me more about that?"

Sammy Guevara: "Yeah, about a year ago, he reached out. Said he'd left that 'Bolieve' crap behind, wanted to mend fences. But after everything, I couldn't forgive him. He made his choice back then, and it wasn't me."

Dr. Williams takes a moment to consider Sammy's words before asking her final question.

Dr. Williams: "Thank you for your insights, Sammy. It helps us better understand Leyton's past and the challenges he's faced. Is there anything else you think I should know about him or his experiences during that time?"

Sammy Guevara: “Well he has always had self-confidence issues and I tried to keep “The Greatest Tag Team” alive but Leyton threw it all away to play with the clown."

Dr. Williams: "I appreciate your time and honesty, Sammy. Your perspective is invaluable in helping Leyton on his journey to recovery."

The camera slowly pans out as Dr. Williams and Sammy Guevara exchange polite nods as the feed moves elsewhere...




A video package plays it's Grayson Waller  with all the tags that perfectly describe him...



#Blessed #Over #Influencer #Phenomenal #Stunning #Showstopper all appear as moments from of Grayson Wallers career...



Grayson Waller Effect is live as the final graphic flashes, The music dies down as the arena is dark, Spotlight circles the arena. Tony Chimel voice begins to radiate throught the arena he announces:

Tony Chimel: "Ladies and Gentle please welcome, The most talked about sensation ON REVOLUTION,  He is the Moment Maker, The Aussie Icon, YOUR HOST OF THE GRAYSON WALLER EFFECT..."



"Say So" begins from the start as Grayson Waller arms splayed out as the spotlight christens the ring, It's adorned with palm plants and a desk right off center facing the hard camera, Grayson Waller  cockily dances to the music as the crowd gain an instant disliking to his loudmouthed antics and grand staging...



"GRAYSON WALLER"

Waller gives the cue for the production crew to turn off his theme for a second time in a  short time as he picks up microphone with his logo all over it, He lifts the microphone to his lips as he looks towards the ramp to get the show on the road...

Grayson Waller: Welcome to the Grayson Waller effect live from Detroit, Tonight on the debut episode we have a guest who not many of you are familiar with, Straight from the prehistoric era I suspect he has the smarts of a caveman and kind of looks like one too, He is big strong and dumb he is the second hottest new star maybe the third but that doesn't matter because noone will outshine Grayson Waller, I am pleased to introduce... Caleb the Mighty prick...



As Grayson Waller stands aside and awaits the arrival of his latest guest the sound of a war horn blowing blares over the PA system. This continues for a short while until the ominous guitar of Eternal Champion's 'I Am The Hammer' begins to play. As the pace of the song picks up into the epic chugging riffs we see for the first time on stage The Mighty Caleb. He stands not the tallest but he is built like a brick shithouse. He has in his hand a horn which he holds high in the air chanting 'SKAL, SKAL, SKAL' as the crowd join in, enthused it seems by the sight of a real life barbarian warrior. Caleb then begins to walk down to the ring with a smile on his face, almost laughing at the situation he finds himself in on a talk show with the brash Australian. Caleb marches up the ring steps and through the ropes and into the ring. He raises the horn high in the air with one and holds a clenched fist in the air with his other hand atop the top turnbuckle. The crowd seem to be into it as Caleb steps down and is handed a microphone. He looks at it for a second, pausing to take in the noise of the crowd before he looks across the ring at Waller.



The Mighty Caleb: I have travelled across many realms. Fought many men and beasts and yet, for the first time The Mighty Caleb has found himself... on a what your people call a 'talk show'. Yes, Caleb has heard many things about your people and their talking shows. He has heard from the elders of your realm that Oprah Winfrey might well be the strongest of your kind but I have been told many things about the people of this realm and The Mighty Caleb finds it all rather confusing. Almost as confused as you might be. For The Mighty Caleb has come to this realm, to the UWF... not to talk. The Mighty Caleb hasn't come to the UWF to listen to the likes of you either. I have come here in search of conquest, in search of the glory of battle... to fight. Looking at your Grayson Waller, I see you are not dressed to compete... so The Mighty Caleb must ask... why have you brought me here?

Grayson Waller: So Caleb you have the privilege of being in a historic Grayson Waller Effect, and I gotta say, I'm puzzled. Two weeks ago were you thinkin' that UWF is some kind of soap opera or were ya just looking to have a drink and skull it with a true Australian? 'Cause, honestly, my time's too precious for either. Besides I couldn't understand ya over that incoherent mumbling ya call an accent..."

The Mighty Caleb: Well The Mighty Caleb would be the first to toast with a fellow fighter -

Grayson Waller: "But hey, I'm just a humble host and I will not take away the opportunity for you, Because I am eager to unravel the enigma that is "The Mighty" Caleb. So, spill the beans, mate. What makes you think you've earned that nickname, and how do you plan on living up to it in a world where Grayson Waller reigns supreme?"

Despite his clear frustration at being interrupted, Caleb composes himself and raises the microphone to his mouth.

The Mighty Caleb: Listen my friend, I do not stand here as an 'enigma'. Nor do I stand here claiming to be anything that I am not. The Mighty Caleb has fought across the realms, and as I was saying - The Mighty Caleb has spent many times toasting to his victories alongside many warriors. I do not claim to be mighty in the sense of being above others. My might is in battle - from testing my steel in combat. You claim to reign supreme in this realm and yet I see no offer of combat, I see no offer of a good fight which begs the question that I have and I'm sure many more of my friends here tonight have... are you a fighter?, or are you nothing more than a lowly jokester?

Grayson feeling a little bit of tension raises his hand trying to deescalate the situation before switching gears...

Grayson Waller: "Ya know? when I laid eyes on you,It looked like you had just stumbled out of a Panic At The Disco concert last night and had a rendezvous with an escort who's got more issues than a magazine subscription. And somehow, you've managed to find your way right here onto the Grayson Waller Effect-"

The Might Caleb got his answer as Waller decided to poke just a bit further...

The Mighty Caleb: Listen man from the realm down under - you have done nothing but waste The Mighty Caleb's time. I have come to your realm to do battle and to win glory, not to be ridiculed by a clown like you... so one more time, I beg of you, allow me to leave and seek my glory or prepare yourself for battle against The Mighty Caleb.

Grayson Waller: "Look-"

Caleb takes off his armour and rallies the crowd behind him as Waller backs off stopping right in his tracks, Caleb doesn't have time to listen to another barb...

Grayson Waller: "I have no issues with you big guy... But he does-"

The crowd come unglued as one of the camera guys drops the act dropping the camera and removing his hat and mask hiding his identity, As Caleb turns to see what the crowd is reacting too it's too late, Bronson Reed comes at Caleb with the might of all of Australia as he is taken down by a running shoulder block. Waller reacts like he has seen the best Aussie Rules mark he has ever seen as Reed looks down on Caleb...

Caleb doesn't have time to think of a counter attack, Reed has The Mighty on his feet and up onto his shoulders, Reed slams Caleb right about through the canvas with a devastating powerbomb, Reed gloats towards the crowd as they share their disdain towards the New Aussie Alliance. Waller moves Caleb to the corner as he points for Reed to climb the turnbuckles. Reed shakes his head in agreement...

Reed ascends the turnbuckle, his eyes locked on Caleb "The Mighty" below. With a burst of energy, he launches himself into the air, the crowd don't have time for boos as the sheer spectacle takes the crowds breath away. Reed lands squarely on The Mighty, sapping the very breath from his lungs. Finally the crowd can react as they rain down boos towards the Australian Collosus, Waller is excited as he and Reed fist bump, They exit the ring leaving The Mighty laying out...




Once again, the audience's attention is drawn away from the ring and up to the big screen when it starts broadcasting a feed from elsewhere in the building. Actually, its just outside the building. Near the loading docks.

As is so often the case, Renee Young is on the scene, except this time the company's lead correspondent isn't introducing a guest for an interview. By the look of things, she's taking a quick five'r to get away for a smoke.

Young stands under the flickering fluorescent light illuminating that back loading area. A September evening breeze scatters the first of Autumn's leaves - as well as some scraps of trash - across the concrete. Taking a deep breath, indeed, a sigh of relief to get away from it all for a moment, the Canuck reaches into her handbag and pulls out her pack of darts. She taps the bottom and pulls one out, then goes back to the purse for a lighter.

She rummages.

She rummages.

She rummages some more.

Nothing. Nadda. Zilch. Renee's been Bic'd. She leans her head back, rolls her eyes and groans. In this two hour stretch of television time, rare come the opportunities for breaks, and brother, its a stressful stretch to get through. So much yelling. So many interuptions. And now, her one oasis in the desert of go-go-go has come up mirage. Defeated, she turns to head back inside...

Need a light?



She wheels back around. Who said that? A voice from the shadows - one that's familiar but not quite familiar enough to place.

Young: Uh... yeah... yeah I'd really appreciate that.

The generous stranger steps into the light. Back in the arena proper, the crowd watching the titantron gasps.



Its The Bad Boy, Joey Janela! He grins wide as he flicks a wicked cool zippo to life. Renee leans in to have her cigarette lit for her, oldschool Hollywood style. Joey lights his own dart next. After taking a long drag, she says...

Young: Hey thanks.

Now, she isn't on the clock right now. There's no obligation to get to the bottom of anything, and as a matter of fact, if there was ever a time to take the foot of the gas, sit back, and smell the roses, its now - during this brief reprieve. Still, her naturally inquisitive nature can't be help. She's curious to a fault. One more drag, and then, an investigation.

Young: So are you just in town visiting or are you coming back full time?

Joey takes his cigarette down to the filter then tosses the butt without a care. Again, he smirks, but at the same time, he shakes his head, being all coy about it and such.

Janela: See ya around.

With that, he leaves Renee and her cigarette in the dust. He's gone just as quickly as he came, but by the sounds of things, that sure isn't the last we've seen of him. Revolution rolls on!




Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...



Head of the Table hits the PA System and out comes Roman Reigns. On his right he has the Wiseman of the Tribal Chief and on his left the problem solver Solo Sikoa. Reigns does a sly rubbing of his red leigh he is wearing signifying he is the the head of the table. The three men lift there hands up in the sky signifying 'The Ones'.

Chimel: Making his way to the ring from Pensacola, Florida being accompanied by Solo Sikoa, and Paul Heyman. The Tribal Chief Roman Reigns!


Reigns and company make there way to the ring and the reception is mixed for the Tribal Chief. Roman is taking his time to get in the ring showing little urgency. Roman and crew finally get into the ring and when they do they once again throw the ones up high in the sky. Roman removes his red lei and hands it to the Wiseman who exits the ring. Reigns than turns to the problem solver and he pats his cousin on the shoulder signifying it's okay and Solo exits the ring and Roman gets prepared for battle.

Chimel: And his opponent...

As the capacity UWF crowd awaits what’s next, suddenly the lights go out. After a moment of silence, a familiar voice is heard over the PA system.

”REVERE ME.
FEAR ME.”

As soon as these words are spoken, somber guitar music begins to play as the lights come up to a dark blue hue with smoke covering the stage.



As the vocals of, “Broken Needle” by Marilyn Manson begin, out walks Vinny Marseglia with his axe in his right hand resting on his shoulder as he takes a look to the end of the ramp and into the ring before beginning his walk down it.

Tony Chimel: From Warwick, Rhode Island. Weighing in at one hundred and eighty-nine pounds. He is the, “Horror King”, Vinny…Marseglia!

As the introduction concludes, Vinny stops at the bottom of the ramp, lowering his axe to his side as he climbs up onto the ring apron and then steps through the ropes. He ascends the nearest turnbuckle and, with one swift swing, buries the axe in the turnbuckle pad before leaping down and getting ready for the match ahead.

VS

DING DING!

The bell rings and the two men walk semi-circles in opposite directions, Reigns eyeing Marseglia like his latest conquest and Vinny staring a hole right through the latest sack of meat sent for his particular brand of butchery. The crowd is buzzing, knowing what they are about to witness.

Tom Phillips: The bell has rung and now we witness a collision of two former UWF world champions.

Mauro Ranallo: Both men are known for wrestling hard, physical styles and you can tell from the anticipation in the air here tonight, that's exactly what these fans have paid to see.

Corey Graves: Yes but where the difference will lie is in who controls the pacing of the match. The self-styled Horror King likes his bouts fast and furious, but you can expect the Tribal Chief to try to slow it down a little and bring a more methodical pace to this thing.

Finally, the pair have stopped sizing each other up. Roman comes in looking for a collar-and-elbow, but as he draws in close, Vinny catches him with a vicious throat-thrust that sends him reeling and sputtering for the ropes. At the first sign of vulnerability, Marseglia springs to action, rushing Roman and connecting with a European uppercut that shoots the former Big Dog to a full vertical, leaned against the ropes.

Roman is dazed, and so Vinny takes a few steps back and charges him, connecting with a clothesline with such force and momentum that both men spill to the outside! Roman lands hard in a prone position, but the Horror King lands on his feet and tosses his dreads back as his faithful in the crowd pop.

Phillips: It's early, but the Horror King has put himself in the driver's seat here and Roman will need to find some way to turn this around.

Vinny steps a few paces away as Roman rises go one knee, but then he's rushing right back in, connecting flush with the side of his opponent's face with a pump kick that sends him crashing back to the floor. Vinny then drops to one knee beside Roman, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand while brutalizing him with strikes from the other. Roman gets a hand up to deflect some of the blows, but it's only the official's count of six that actually gets Marseglia to break the withering beating long enough to roll into and out of the ring again and reset the count. Once he does, he pulls Roman to one knee and mean-mugs Solo as he starts cold-cocking him with closed fists to the forehead.

Graves: The Horror King has marked his target and it seems he is going to try to ring Roman's bell here tonight.

Ranallo: The Tribal Chief has made a name for himself as a physically dominant competitor. For Vinny, this might be as much about sending a message to the world as it is about beating his opponent.

Marseglia lets up on the withering assault for a moment to hold his fist up with a wild grin, before cooking it a la Reigns himself. He cackles as Solo watches and takes a half-step forward, but the moment is all his explosive opponent needs as Reigns surges, grabbing Vinny in a spinebuster position before rushing to the ring steps and slamming his opponent spine-first onto that unyielding steel. The collision is ugly, but Roman isn't done there, as he pulls Vinny upright again and then tosses him unceremoniously into the barricade. Roman throws his own hair back now as the official hits a five count, then rolls Vinny into the ring, following in after. The Horror King actually manages to sit up, but that only plays to his disadvantage as the Tribal Chief traps him in a chinlock.

Graves: And now you see Roman slowing things down, putting Vinny in a submission hold, wearing the Horror King out. He's trying to take control of this contest.

Phillips: On any other opponent I'd commend him for doing that, but Vinny Marseglia has time and again demonstrated an ability to hit a second, third and even fourth gear. Just look at the brutal contest he had with Bray Wyatt as the most recent example.

Roman keeps torquing his hold even as Vinny slowly rises to one knee. In fact, he transitions to a side headlock when Vinny finds both feet. Marseglia rushes him back into the ropes and attempts to slip free as he tries to whip Roman to the other side. But Reigns plants his feet, shakes his head, and shouts about how that's not going to work before driving a stiff knee into Vinny's gut. The Horror King is momentarily winded by the gesture, so Roman now sends him into the ropes opposite. Vinny rebounds and attempts another uppercut, but Roman cuts him off with an ugly, stiff haymaker that sends Marseglia spinning and crashing to his knees with his back turned to the Head of the Table. Reigns then paces around the side of Vinny, laughing and shaking his head. As the Horror King finds his feet, Roman closes the gap with him, puts a palm in his face, and pie-faces him. The show of extreme disrespect draws wild heat from the house.

Ranallo: If I were Roman Reigns I definitely wouldn't be seeking to infuriate Vinny Marseglia.

Roman keeps running his mouth, which prompts Vinny to attempt to cut him down to size with a stiff chop to the chest. Roman sells it, clutching at his chest with one hand, but Vinny swats the hand away and unloads with another chop, and another. They're audible in the cheap seats, and the fans of course react with the legendary Ric Flair "woo!" to each crack as Vinny leaves Roman wheezing just long enough to rush the corner, then springboards into the Orange Sunshine cutter! Roman is down, and if he were an ordinary foe, Vinny would hook the leg. But the Horror King knows the Tribal Chief will take a little more to put away, so he lines him up from the very same corner he just sprung out of, waiting for Roman to find all fours so he can force the Head of the Table to Bow Down. Just as the moment draws nigh, however, Solo climbs up onto the apron! The fans erupt in boos as the official immediately moves to address this. Vinny, though, is tunnel visioned. He rushes Roman, charging directly into a low blow.

Phillips: Absolutely reprehensible behaviour from the Tribal Chief as he takes a cheap shot at his opponent! And the ref didn't see it!

The fans did, though. They're practically going nuclear as Vinny stumbles away, clutching his groin. Roman moves quickly, closing the gap and hoisting the Horror King on his shoulders to deliver a Samoan drop. As he heads to a corner of his own, he throws his head back with his signature "Ooh-ahh!" Vinny moves to one knee, and looks to be rising with Reigns having him in his sights, but then...

Ranallo: It's Ricky Starks!

The fans pop as Starks heads down the ramp, Solo immediately moving to intercept. Ricky has words with the Enforcer as Roman watches from the ring, which unfortunately for the Tribal Chief, gives Vinny the time to recover. The Horror King moves in behind him, and before Roman can react, he's bent backwards in a dragon sleeper hold and lifted up, then spiked with the Farewell to the Flesh! Vinny's fans pop as he hooks the leg.

1...

2...

...3!

DING DING DING!

Here is your winner, The Horror King
VINNY MARSEGLIA!



Graves: A momentary distraction from Ricky Starks bought The Horror King a victory here tonight.

Phillips: It seemed such a balanced contest before the outside elements – first Solo, and then Starks – threw a wrench in the works. The Revolution faithful can only hope these two will meet again soon.

Starks laughs at Solo as the Enforcer shoulder-checks the ring, where Vinny is already rolling out, leaving Roman lying. Sikoa heads for the squared circle as Ricky backs up the ramp and heads out of the arena. The show moves along.




The Revolution graphic splashes the screen before we are treated to the aviator-clad mug of the UWF Champion of the Intercontinents.



Orange Cassidy: I'm going to keep this short and simple, because I know the fans tonight didn't pay to see me speak on the Titantron, they want to watch me handle my business in the ring. I just need to get something off my chest first.

Orange nonchalantly runs a hand through his hair before he continues.

I don't expect my colleagues to fear me. I don't expect them to get me. But you'd think after I made one of the hottest acts in the company to take a break and beat not only the world champion but also a recent former one, that I'd earn some respect. You'd think that after my Prime Time run and my winning the Championship of the Intercontinents, they'd stop underestimating me. And yet here we are.

Orange actually lightly sighs. It's a rare display of emotion from the usually cool hand.

Here we are and Warhorse adds his name to the long list of men who say I don't belong here, who call into question the validity of Sloth Style and the life-affirming power of Vitamin C. Well, Mr. Horse, let me tell you something: After all the time you've spent trying to undercut me, things are really going to suck for you. Because sooner or later, you're going to have to face your fans and apologize to them. You'll have to make amends, because all the promises you've made to beat me are about to be broken. And just like all the rest of the guys I've beat, I'm really going to look forward to seeing how you handle that. Here's a "Freshly Squeezed" bit of wisdom: Once I've proven I'm out of your league, you should start back at the bottom and see if you can climb your way back to relevance, Brother.

Orange seems done with his bit as he turns away from the camera. The show moves along.




We are back in a clinical area. The clock's hands click loudly, the camera pans down to Dr Williams sitting alongside Kieran Kelly. Kieran looks uneasy as Dr Williams enters the room with notepad and pen, She hands a glass of water  with her free hand to Kieran who takes a sip before placing down the glass...




Dr Williams: “Thank you for coming, Kieran? I am doctor Williams and I am here to ask you a few questions about a friend of yours…”

Kieran: “Buzzard I don’t like that name but you sounded serious when you said you wanted to talk?...”

Dr Williams: “I can't indulge in too much information but I need more information to get a greater grasp. So my first question; Can you please introduce yourself and describe your relationship with Leyton Buzzard?”

Kieran: “We both came into the UWF together, We had some great times; I mean we didn’t win that often but we were each other's rock causing shenanigans wherever we went. I mean our trip to Australia was something I will forever remember. We were thick as thieves. I mean until the bastard turned his back on me.”

Dr Williams: "I appreciate you sharing that, Kieran. It sounds like you and Leyton had a strong bond, especially during your time in the UWF. Can you tell me more about the events that led to Leyton distancing himself from you?"

Dr Williams taps her pen on the paper ready to write down any criticial information...

Kieran: “Buzzard watched as I was broken he watched, I thought he was my friend but he forgot about me as soon as I was in trouble, he turned his back. Last time I tried talking to him but all he was going on about was Trevor Lee.”

Dr. Williams: "I see, Kieran. It sounds like you went through a difficult time, and it was disheartening that Leyton didn't offer support when you needed it. You mentioned he was fixated on Trevor Lee. Can you explain more about this fixation? Did Leyton's behavior change noticeably when he started talking about Trevor Lee?"

Kieran: "Oh, it changed alright. He became obsessed, like Trevor Lee was the center of his universe. He'd ramble on and on about how Lee was responsible for everything that went wrong in his life. It was like he couldn't see beyond that obsession."

Dr Williams nods in acknowledgement as Kieran speaks freely. She jots down information..

Dr. Williams: "That's interesting, Kieran. Leyton's fixation on Trevor Lee seems to be a significant part of his current struggles. One last question, if you don't mind. Do you think Leyton's belief in Trevor Lee's influence is justified, or do you see it as a delusion?"

Kieran: "I'm not a shrink, but it sounds pretty delusional to me. I mean, Trevor Lee's just a guy, a successful one, but still just a guy. I don't see how he could be pulling the strings in Leyton's life."

Dr. Williams: "I appreciate your honesty, Kieran. Your pers-"

A young man burst into the room panicked, They cut off Williams; "Dr Williams we have an issue, It's Buzzard". Williams face shows concern for what has just gone down.  She picks up her notes and stands up to her feet ready to leave before she quickly turns to Kieran...

Dr Williams: "Sorry Kieran I have to handle this take one of my cards and I will finish our conversation another time..."

Dr Williams rushes out of the room with the orderlies as they make there way to the incident...




As Revolution rolls on we see The Shark walking down the hallway looking uncharactersitically sombre. He looks down, he looks around at his surroundings before he raises something to his head, it's a Shark Boy mask. The crowd roar as Shark Boy makes his way down the hall until...

GIVE ME A SHELL YEAH!



'I Come From the Water' by The Toadies hits the PA system for the first time in a long time and the crowd give a loud but somewhat mixed reaction for the man who walks out from behind the curtain. Shark Boy is dressed in casual clothes with the mask adorning his face for the first time since he lost it to Trevor Lee. Shark Boy wastes little time in getting down to the ramp, through the ropes and into the ring. Shark Boy heads to the top rope and throws out the fin salute before raising his fists in the air. He lowers his hands and looks around at the crowd with glassy eyes before he steps down and asks for a microphone.



Shark Boy: Cut the music -

Shark Boy's more recognisable Texan brogue has returned as the crowd cheer.

This ain't The Shark, this ain't Dean Baldwin, this ain't even DMR this is good ol'... Dean Roll... but you might know me better as Shark Boy. A lot of you here tonight might be wonderin' what the shell is goin' on... is Shark Boy back?, is Shark Boy makin' a comeback to whoop Trevor Lee's bass?. Well I have some bad news on that front...

The crowd murmur among themselves.

Contractually, Shark Boy cannot compete in a UWF ring under this mask anymore. Shell, I had to buy this damn mask online after Trevor Lee buried my last one. It affected ol' Shark Boy in more than one way, I lost my damn mind and started imitatin' stars of old. I turned my back on all of you and all the people who loved me and a lot of people believe in karma and if ya do well then ol' Shark Boy just got the biggest dose of karma you could get. But I don't believe in karma... I believe that I'm one of the toughest chums of fish to ever pull on a pair of boots and step in this ring and I'm damn proud of what I've achieved. But bein' a tough son of a fish in the toughest business in the world has run it's course on ol' Shark Boy. Which is why I can stand here in front of all you here tonight the way it should be, mask on, all gimmicked up because it's how y'all know me, it's where I was at my best and it's where I'll take this opportunity to let you all know that it's time for Shark Boy to swim back to the Deep Blue Sea for good. 

The crowd murmur among themselves, some are devastated.

See I just got back from the doctors office and I plead my case but I was given an ultimatum last week following Summerslam, hang 'em up or wind up a damn paraplegic. So it's Shark Boy's time to hang up the ol' trunks and go home to Mama Shark and Baby Shark. Turns out up and down the road, makin' towns for over twenty damn years takes it toll and Shark Boy's body just ain't willing to carry him anymore. The little shark that could has been swimmin' upstream since day one and we've done it together. Damn, I'm gettin' a lil' choked up here but I just wanted to take the time to thank you all, for following me from day one... from gettin' my bass whipped by Sting and Samoa Joe at Wrestlemania right through to gettin' my bass whipped by that sorry son of a fish Trevor Lee at this years Wrestlemania. We've had some highs, we've had some lows but through it all, we've had a shell of a lot of fun. I'm happy that EC3 let me have the opportunity to come out here and bow out in front of y'all not as The Shark - but as me, the genuine me... I can only apologise for The Shark - sometimes you throw shit at the wall at it just don't stick.

The crowd laugh as Shark Boy scratches his head.

But hey, we've had a shell of a run, United States Champ, TV Champ, Tag Team Champ, the perennial runner up and the two time World Champion. I've fought the best, Kevin Steen, AJ Styles, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Sting,, Cody Rhodes, Dean Ambrose, Sami Zayn, CM Punk, Seth Rollins, that bastard Edge and that sorry son of a fish Trevor Lee. We done it all together and so I say thank you, I'll see you all down the road and to anyone I've shared the ring with or pissed off over the years I just have to say thank you for the house - it's been a shell of a ride... and THAT'S THE FISHIN' LINE... COS SHARK BOY SAID SO!

The crowd give a loud standing ovation as Shark Boy stands in the ring applauding the fans back. Shark Boy is then thrown a few cans of Sharkweiser. He wastes little time in cracking one open, he lays it down in the centre of the ring, takes a look around at all the fans on their feet and immediately begins to head up the ramp. He takes one last look at the crowd before raising his fists defiantly in the air and walking off into the sunset.




Away from the usual goings on in the arena, the camera feed opens up in an unknown location, which judging by the warm and peaceful nature of it is presumably hundreds, if not thousands of miles away from Detroit.



After a few shots featuring some wonderful water and nature, the camera begins to zoom in on a sun lounger, where a familiar individual is sat wearing a shirt and shorts and appears to be having quite the time of it.

Stokely Hathaway: Ahhh... this is the life!

As Hathaway tries to sit back, relax and enjoy the sunshine, he clocks that there is a camera watching him. But instead of responding in a hostile manner, the business associate of Drew McIntyre actually appears pleasantly surprised as he sits up and adjusts his shades.

Stokely Hathaway: Oh, hello there. I'll forgive you for the intrusion of my private getaway on account of the fact that I am in a very very good mood at present. A big difference from the last time you all saw me, huh? Major thanks go to the upstanding UWF Champion Drew McIntyre for allowing me the time to enjoy this retreat and celebrate his phenomenal victory at Summerslam in style. This one’s for you Drew...

Hathaway proceeds to raise a glass in honor of the UWF Champion, with the liquid contents presumably safe to drink in this instance.

Stokely Hathaway: Mmm... now that's what I call good shit! Unlike the last thing y'all saw me drinking which was in fact pure shit-shit. Thanks to Bayley and her vile, twisted and outright mean ways, I was of course denied the opportunity to be in the champ's corner at Citi Field. But even with the night missing my awe-inspiring presence, it still wasn't enough to turn the tide now, was it? Which is why Drew is still your UWF Champ, and Kyle O'Reilly is still a massive loser. So yeah, nice try Bayley, you may have gotten me good, but just as I predicted beforehand, you and your half wit step-brother couldn’t get what really mattered in all of this. Meaning the new natural order of things now continues in the UWF, and here I am, enjoying every single second of it! Adios!

As Hathaway takes another sip of his drink, he signals with his spare hand for the cameras to leave him alone, which they do as the feed cuts away from his vacation spot and back to the arena.




The titantron switches from the UWF Revolution graphic to a replay from the Main Event of Summerslam. Its the closing moments of the title tilt between Drew McIntyre and Kyle O'Reilly...

Both men look spent but Drew manages to sit up. He looks over at Kyle who hasn't moved and ends up getting to his feet. Kyle suddenly kips up and starts nailing the UWF Champion with another flurry of strikes followed by a Jumping Forearm Smash to the face. Drew gets turned around from the pure impact and Kyle wraps his arms around him in the full nelson before exploding his hips back into the Blue Eyes Diabetic Dragon! He's got him in the bridge for the pin!



1 . . .



2 . . .



3 . . .



McIntyre pops the shoulder up just in time! Kyle gets to his feet and stands over him. He grabs the Champion by the back of his trunks and pulls him up. He gets one arm through in a half nelson, then gets the second one to gear up for another Blue Eyes Diabetic Dragon! He pops the hips but Drew flips over and lands on his feet. He stumbles back into the ropes and Kyle rushes back to his feet but McIntyre has bounces off them and connects with another Claymore! Kyle is turned inside out one more time but gets up immediately! His fists are shaking and he's moving on pure will power but Drew just hits a third Claymore! Drew grabs his leg and flips him over and decides to not give him any chance of kicking out and instead places him in the Iron Maiden! If the lights weren't out from 3 Claymores then he's done now and the ref has no choice but to call for the bell.



Tony Chimel: Here is your winner by submission, and STILL the UWF Champion, Drew McIntyre!




Bayley comes in and checks on her brother. Drew pays no attention to her, already looking out for the next challenger and daring any would be contenders.


Mauro Ranallo: It took 3 Claymores and the Iron Maiden for Drew to finally keep Kyle down but still he didn't submit.

Corey Graves: Who cares. His body gave out on him and now Drew McIntyre needs to look forward to a real challenger, the Forever Champion Sami Zayn.

Tom Phillips: OR THE WARHORSE BROTHER!

Mauro Ranallo: Whoever it is, they'll need to find a good strategy because when it comes to a straight fight, I think Drew may be damn near unstoppable.


Bayley is helping Kyle to the back as Drew celebrates and the show comes to an end.

As the replay fades out, the big screen then cuts to a live feed from backstage where Renee Young is standing by.



Young: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guests at this time, Kyle O'Reilly and Bayley.

The step-siblings walk into the shot. Bayley looks chipper as a chipmunk, showing no signs of losing that momentum she confidently carried into the Biggest Party of the Summer, despite her step-bro coming out second best. Kyle, conversely, is wearing the result all over his face, both in the bumps and bruises all over it and with his downcast, sullen expression.

Young: Thanks for joining me. First things first, Kyle, congratulations on a strong, career-best performance at Summerslam. The UWF Universe was raving about -

The Human Swiss Army Knife cuts her off right there.



KO'R: How can it even be "career best" if I lost? What's there even to congratulate about?

Young: Well, I -

Bayley, who looks a little bit embarrassed by and worried for Kyle now, smiles her way through some cover fire.

Bayley: Yeah so maybe "career best" it ain't, ya know, given all those tag team title wins over the years, not to mention coming out on top of the King of the Ring tournament last month.

Young: Right but -

Bayley: Right but yeah, right, sure, giving the UWF Champion the fight of his life and proving to the world that there ain't nobody tougher in the game today - that's nothing to sneeze at! How many Claymore's did Drew hit anyway? Was it... was it three? Has anyone ever even kicked out of one before? And even then, McIntyre had to resort to the Iron Maiden, and EVEN THEN, Kyle didn't tap. If Ref's throwing out matches early didn't count, my step-bro would pretty much be undefeated around -

KO'R: Whatever.

Kyle's cold, calloused interruption cuts Bayley off dead in her tracks. There's an awkward silence for a sec before the Ace interviewer comes back swinging.

Young: Well it certainly isn't the end of the line, historically speaking. Vinny Marseglia won King of the Ring and lost at Summerslam before going on to win the world title. Guys like Minoru Suzuki and Shark Boy took a few strikes before hitting the homer's, too. So what's the game plan for getting back into the title picture?

O'Reilly just shrugs. When it becomes obvious he isn't going to elaborate further, the "Good Guy" once again steps up to the plate.

Bayley: Psssh, I mean, if Sami Zayn is the Number One Contender now, how hard could it even by for Kyle to top that standard? Its a low bar to clear. It mighta taken a year for Kyle to get to the big times, but now that the whole wide world realizes that he's all that and a bag of chips, it shouldn't take too long to end up right back in the mix. A few wins over some choice compet -

This time, it isn't Kyle or even Renee interjecting. Rather, the conversation is thrown off-course by the surprise appearance of a man who hasn't been seen around these parts in ages walking right by and bumping against Kyle O'Reilly. Clearly not seeing where he's going because he was looking at his phone, as the camera turns over to show.



Tyler Breeze: Ugh, um Exsqueeze me Uggo but can you not pay attention to where I'm going. Do you not realize how precious cargo works? I'm Precious, and you Car-Go.

As both Bayley and Kyle turn to Breeze, Tyler cocks an eyebrow and interrupts them before they can say anything in response.

Tyler Breeze: Oh ho ho wait a minute I know you, you're Karl or something right. I swear I could hear Barbara over there trying to talk you up, talking about Three whole Claymore shots...Wow, you must be real though huh. Too bad you aren't smart enough NOT to get hit three times by the same move. Psh, typical and the worst, WORST, part...I'm making my way to a very important meeting, and all I can hear is crying and moping over here and honestly it's not good for my chakra. If ya don't know what that means, just give it a quick Googs okay.

Breeze looks over at Renee questionably.

Tyler Breeze: Uh, Rich, Googs is an Abreev okay?

Breeze rolls his eyes as if Renee is so dumb not to understand before he continues on with Kyle and Bayley.

Tyler Breeze: Anyways, Barbara stop trying to talk up your um...Friend? Do Uggos have friends or do ya'll just exist together? I don't know, I'm not a social scientist or anything. All I know is there's no reason for Karl here to be depressed at all, I mean do you think a bird gets depressed when it starts flying? Do you think a Lion gets mopey when it roars? So why would a Loser get all sad because he Lost.

As Breeze chuckles to himself and looks at his phone again, totally belittling Kyle, before Bayley or Kyle can speak up and shut him up. Alexa Bliss enters in and speaks up.



Alexa Bliss: Okay Okay, we are way behind schedule if we want to make that runway in time we need to meet with EC3 right now Tyler, Let's go.

Tyler Breeze:Well blame the help, don't I hire someone specifically to keep uggos like these away from my personal bubble?

Sorry Mr. Breeze.

A Deep voice booms out from off screen, Kyle and Bayley looking over and then their gazes slowly moving upwards as a Colossus steps in, the camera having to pan up just to show their face.



Omos: I lagged behind a bit, Am I needed?

Omos looks down at Kyle O'Reilly with a scowl, as Breeze shrugs his shoulders and looks at his phone. Bliss snaps her fingers

Alexa Bliss: No, we are going to be late-

Tyler Breeze: Ah ah ah...Fashionably Late.

Bliss lets out an exasperated sigh before putting on a big fake smile.

Alexa Bliss: Of course, haha, now let's go, we don't have time for this.

Tyler Breeze: Good point, hope to see you Never, Wanna-Breeze.

Tyler walks off with Bliss in tow, as Omos' stare lingers down at Kyle before he lumbers off behind them.

Bayley: Yeah... yeah that's right you better run away while your legs can still... ya know... do that! Tell 'em, Kyle!

Turning to her Step-Brother for some back-up, Bayley is surprised to see Kyle just shake his head (in disgust? annoyance? anger? hopelessness?) before he walks off in the opposite direction.

Bayley: Hey! Wait up!

The "Good Guy" chases after Kyle, leaving Renee all alone in that hallway. Since it doesn't look like anyone is coming back, she ends the segment with a slashing motion across the neck and Revolution rolls on!




Chimel: The following contest is a Non-Title Match and if your Main Event of the evening!



The bewildering sounds of "Raining Blood" blast through the PA, with the wailing distortion echoing through our ears. The spooky sounds continue to flow, until we peak up and then we hit the strong, driving riff coming through the speakers, as Warhorse pumps through the curtain, standing off with menacing head bangs . The Warhorse sympathizers in the crowd bang their heads with ultra enthusiasm through the whole of the first two verses, as well as the MAJORITY Slayer fans, throw 'em up brother.



Chimel: Weighing in tonight at 4000 lbs of Raw Heavy Metal, from St Louis, Missouiri, USA, the holder of the Money in the Bank briefcase, Warhorse!

Wait was he not at the top of the ramp that entire time? He's disappeared. we were too busy headbanging to pay attention to this dude. He's in the cheap seats!!! Headbanging with the crowd, he makes his way down, hopping over the guardrail and sprinting his way up the steps, along the ring apron and back and forth, and through those ropes into the ring.

RAINING BLOOD,
FROM A LACERATED SKY,
BLEEDING IT'S HORROR,
CREATING MY STRUCTURE,
NOW I SHALL REIGN IN BLOOD.


The Warhorse headbangs like crazy as we get a bewildering Kerry King guitar solo, a true assault to the senses. He twirls from the rapid headbanging over towards the corner and as the song finishes the Warhorse stands strong waits for this one to get underway, and thinks about ruling some goddamn ass, baby, brother, dude, boy.



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.



Chimel: From... wherever... and weighing in at... whatever... the Intercontinental Champion, 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.

After ensuring both competitors are good to go, the Official calls for the bell.


VS


DING DING


Oooooh there's an energy in the room tonight, brother. What would have been a perfectly solid match-up on paper this time last month ago is now a fully-loaded banger, cause in one corner you've got yourself a newly-minted Intercontinental Champion, and in the other, a hot-off-the-presses Mister Money in the Bank.

There's two waves of momentum crashing into each other here and the crowd's surfing on 'em, hyped as hype can be for this maquee match-up. The WARHORSE die-hards, like Packers fans, have come painted up and amped to cheer on their boy. They've been hiding in the shadows, their face paint tucked in the back of sock drawers, the heavy metal attitudes buried under politesse for a long time now. Now that their boy is back going full throttle, though, so too are they unleashed upon the UWF Universe, and cousin, they are a raucous lot.

But meeting them decibel for decibel are the Orangentinians, who make up for their guy's reserved demeanour with some Vitamin C-charged energy. Casual be their denim get-ups, but ride-or-die be their fanaticism.

So its big time dueling chants to fill the arena as the competitors come face-to-face in the center of the squared circle.


Ranallo: These two superstars couldn't be less alike in their approach to the great sport of professional wrestling, and yet they each have found their own way to stir up these fans into a frenzy, not to mention carve out some astounding success over the summer.

Phillips: HELL YEAH LET'S DO THIS.

Graves: I just hope both guys have a bad time.


WARHORSE looks to intimidate the Champion of the Intercontinents with a mighty flex, curling his biceps down like he's squeezing a beach ball and letting all those neck veins pop out. Cassidy responds by putting his hands up - almost like he's begging him to stop - but no, wait, what's this? Hands in the air? Now they're coming down? Oh... oh my! Folks, he's putting both hands in both of his pockets! The crowd goes wild for the man who was born to be mild!

But Mr. Money in the Bank won't sanction his buffoonery, and takes advantage of his compromised posture with a crude two-hand shove to the chest. So aggressive is WARHORSE's push that it actually knocks O.C. over backwards, so that he sommersaults away from his opponent. Nevertheless, the unassuming athletic stud maintains his composure, rolling clean through to spring right back up to his feet.


Ranallo: At a glance you might call Cassidy lazy, but were I to sum-up the man's so-called "Sloth Style" in a word, it would be deceptive.

Graves: Yeah, and if I were to use two, they would be "ratings cancer".

Phillips: IF I USED THREE THEY WOULD BE "WARHORSE'S PUNCHING BAG... BROTHER~!"


The gall of O.C. popping up with those hands still tucked sure sticks in WARHORSE's craw. The former Intercontinental Champ charges his foe, thinking he might knock that block off with a lariat. Orange ducks and the hesher blows on by, running into and then bouncing off of the ropes.

A rebound feeds him right into a dropkick courtesy of Cassidy's sneakers, and that too delivers him into the awaiting cables. The current IC Champ kip-ups (kips up?) to his feet quicker than a hiccup - faster than WARHORSE can come back around, anyway, so that when their paths cross once more, Orange has no problem jumping up again, only this time hooking on some head-scioors to bring his opponent flipping down to the canvas with a hurricanrana!

Cassidy stays seats on top to attempt a cover...



1...



WARHORSE powers out at one. In an effort to scramble to a vertical base, WARHOSE leaves his back turned to Cassidy, who finally takes his hands out of his pockets to snag a school-boy pin outta the blue. The Referee is still right there to count it...



1...



2...



A shift in his weight gets the MITB-holder out of the predicament and allows him to counter so that he's got O.C.'s shoulders down now...



1...



But Cassidy slides out of trouble, snags the ankels, flips the body, and flies over for a jacknife cover!



1...



2...



WARHORSE just manages to bridge out in time, astonishingly getting both his and the other man's weight up off the canvas. What core strength! He rolls through and separates, but he's so focused on avoiding another flash pin shot from Cassidy that he fails to anticipate the Champ coming over the top with an Orange Punch!

The five knuckles narrowly miss his jaw as he clumsily flops out of harm's way and rolls out under the ropes to the floor. Cassidy lands in the most lackadaisical super hero pose imaginable while his opponent glares up at him from the floor. Their swift exchange pops the sold-out crowd, but a burgeoning "THIS IS AWESOME" chant finds itself drowned out by a more vivacious "FRESHLY SQUEEZED" one from the OC fanatics who can sense their boy cozying up in the driver's seat.


Ranallo: WARHORSE can't get caught up in going hold-for-hold with Cassidy. He needs to play to his strengths and make this ugly.

Graves: I'll agree that being ugly comes naturally to him.

Phillips: WATCH YOUR PUNK-ASS MOUTH, HAIRCUT.


WARHORSE kicks the barricade in frustration. Cassidy doesn't seem to interested in... well... anything, but specifically, he shows no signs of wanting to follow the guy out to the floor. After ensuring that the IC Champ is giving some distance, the Official goes over towards the ropes and threatens a ten count if Mr. MITB doesn't cut this powder short pronto and get back in the ring. An agitated fist slam on the apron shows him blowing off some more steam before he decides to roll back under the ropes and into the ring.

Orange starts towards him at the pace you'd expect - no rush. Now its the hesher's turn to catch his foe by surprise when he positively friggin erupts up off the canvas to charge in with a lariat straight outta some other dimension. He's swinging arm lickity split, affording O.C. no chance to get outta harms way. The lariat peels the Orange, turning him inside out let clothes for the laundry.


Ranallo: Ouch! WARHORSE just turned Orange Cassidy into a smoothie with that one!

Graves: WARHORSE is clearly getting annoyed with Cassidy and now he's stepping up the aggression. What's funny is that he's literally the most annoying man on the planet, so you'd think that -

Phillips: OH SHIT HE'S GOING FOR THE PIN~!


Tom's right. Even at that volume. WARHORSE shoots the half on his dilapidated opponent, knowing that he's done enough damage to not have to worry out some kinda counter this time. The Official drops down to count it off...



1...



2...



Orange gets a shoulder up at two but its like the former Champ was expecting exactly that. Snagging that very same elevated shoulder, WARHORSE drags O.C. up to his feet by way of a half-nelson. From there, he launches him into the stratosphere with a Half-and-half suplex that unkindly lawn chair's Cassidy upon impact.

Cassidy's instincts have him endeavouring to spring back to his feet like earlier on, but he's so rattled that his balance is compromised, so instead, he finds himself stumbling into the corner. WARHORSE meets him there with another lariat - this one driving the skin-and-bones Intercontinental Champion into the unmoving post. O.C. finds himself draped there, wide open for a heaping helping of seconds.

After smothering Orange with a follow-up lariat, WARHORSE backs waaaaay up to the kitty corner of the squared circle, revs the engines and floors it to crash all 4000 pounds of heavy metal he's packing into Cassidy for a hat trick. The ring rattles with the impact, and the Money in the Bank winner peels what's left of Orange off the turnbuckle to toss him to the mat for a cover...



1...



2...



No! Cassidy kicks out again!

The fans pop big, WARHORSE shoots the ref a weary stare. Nevertheless, he knows what needs to be done at a time like this. He sets his sights back on that same corner he just weaponized.


Phillips: ITS ALL OVER BUT THE CRYING, BROTHER~!

Ranallo: WARHORSE looks to be thinking about that patented Ass Ruler of his, and at this point, I'm not sure Orange Cassidy even knows what's about to hit him.


Scaling the buckle, WARHORSE wheels around on the peak to line up his opponent in his sites. He stands tall, riling up the crowd ahead of his big stomp, but the air gets let out of the building when Cassidy feebly rolls out of the landing zone and out under the bottom rope, on to the apron.


Graves: What a coward!

Ranallo: Do you seriously expect him to just lie there and take the stomp, Corey? I think the Intercontinental Champion just showcased some masterful ring awareness.

Phillips: NAH HE'S YELLOW-BELLIED BED PISSER.


The Referee goes over to check on Cassidy. WARHORSE climbs down and breezes past him, stepping through the ropes to join his opponent out on the apron. The third man's protests fall on deaf ears as the metalhead scoops O.C. up off the edge of the ring, locking in a front facelock.

WARHORSE drops down with a DDT, looking for something - anything - to put this guy away once and for all. Out of desperation, Orange reaches out to brace himself. His hand so happens snag the Official's collar, and as Cassidy is pulled down, so to is the Ref - so much so that his head is snapped against the top rope, knocking him out cold.

The Ref collapses back into the ring while Cassidy eats a DDT right on the apron. WARHORSE lands standing on the floor next to his foe's KO'd body. He shoves Cassidy into the ring, climbs in after him, makes the cover...

But there's nobody there to count! Its a classic visual pin, but its all for not.


Phillips: THESE REFS ARE MADE OUT OF WET CARDBOARD!

Ranallo: WARHORSE might well have this thing won if only there were somebody here to count the fall.


WARHORSE tries to wake up the Ref, but he's unable. At the same time, O.C. stirs, remarkably finding the strength to roll over and start to get up on his hands and knees. Considering him with a look of awe - almost respect, even - at that kinda endurance, WARHORSE quickly realizes that now's the chance to go the extra mile to find a way to actually keep this son of a gun down for good.

Rolling back out of the ring, he walks over towards the Timekeeper's area and picks up his Money in the Bank briefcase, holding it it up in both hands, wondering if maybe... just maybe... its not also the golden ticket to win this match he's in right here right now.


Graves: Looks like somebody's getting desperate.

Ranallo: Don't do it, WARHORSE! Its not worth it!


The fans thunderous "NO" chant is enough to dissuade him from this temporary moment of desperation. WARHORSE shakes his head at himself, drops the briefcase, and elects to get things done the good ol' fashioned way.

With the people chanting his name, he heads right back into the ring, climbs the apron, steps through the ropes...


BOOM! ORANGE PUNCH!


Cassidy catches him coming in! WARHORSE goes down and Cassidy makes a fast cover just as the Official is coming to to count it...



1...



2...



3...



DING DING




YOUR WINNER...
ORANGE CASSIDY!


"Jane hits the PA" Cassidy rolls off, only now beginning to nurse all those wounds. WARHORSE rolls out to the outside to recover in solitude. The fans are still in shock about that win coming outta the blue like that. They have no time to digest it, too, cause just as soon as the Referee starts raising O.C.'s hands in victory, Dominick Mysterio sideswipes him with a chair shot across the back of the head!


Phillips: WHAT THE HELL?

Ranallo: It's Dom!

Graves: Finn Balor told him that if he wants to get square with the Mafia, he had to pass a message along to Orange Cassidy...


Cassidy tries to get up but takes another chair shot for his troubles. Dom then wards off the Ref with a wild swing to scare him out of the ring. The fans boos come in hot and heavy, but double in volume when Finn Balor, Damien Priest and Rhea Ripley march down the ramp to join the party.

Priest and Ripley head into the ring first. Dom steps back, not entirely sure if he's in their good books yet. Damien and Rhea each take an arm of Orange's and hold him up, leaving him wide open for Finn Balor to smash his face in with his Television Championship!

O.C. hits the ground, bleeding out of his mouth and nose, knocked out cold. Balor tells Dom to go get the IC strap from the table on the outside, which he does without hesitation. Handing the strap to Finn, Dom gets a nod of approval from the Boss.



Dom poses with his fellow Mafia Members as Finn Balor holds both his Television Championship and the Intercontinental Championship belts high while standing over Cassidy's body, bringing Revolution to a close.


END OF SHOW


Credits

Spike vs Balor - Danny
Reigns vs Marseglia - Crann
Hayter vs Zelina - Jamie Hayter
WARHORSE vs Cassidy - Fauche

[Dres]

Another great edition! Just four matches but still a meaty show with lots to ingest. Starks/Reigns kicks off with the interference, Mighty Caleb/Bronson gets started, KOR/Breeze gets started, Vinny/Lee builds, and the UWF Championship picture builds as well. Lots of great stuff, lots of great promos. Two thumbs up from me.

[AndyDNU]

Very enjoyable show on offer this week. Will echo Leedles comment from the discord in saying that there's a lot of new faces in town, but I'm intrigued to see what everyone brings to the table. As long as everyone is working with a character that they enjoy writing with/for then that's the main thing.

Speaking of Leedles that was a fantastic return promo with Lee and great to get the insight into the reasoning as to why Marseglia is the new target. Epic feud incoming.

A really touching way for Shark Boy to swim off into the sunset after one hell of a run that included the beloved face work, the return of C.U.N.T. and the most recent spell as The Shark. Superb work from Sam and an incredible journey overall.

Might be fair to say the show belongs to Finn Balor this week. Mafia dissension to open followed by a good win against Spike and then using Dom to take down Cassidy following his match to make the next set of intentions crystal clear. Going to be keeping an eye on how this one develops.

Really well put together matches for this show and some neat promo contributions to keep things ticking over nicely. Many thanks to the writers once again. Have a nice weekend all.