Post by Danny on Sept 30, 2023 4:44:56 GMT -6
We head to the arena where the pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the Revolution fans in attendance before panning to the commentary table where Corey Graves, Mauro Ranallo, and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Mauro Ranallo: Hello and welcome to Revolution! I'm Mauro Ranallo alongside my partners Tom Phillips and former International Champion Corey Graves.
Tom Phillips: We've got a few big matchups scheduled tonight including the fallout from last week between Finn Balor and Bronson Reed.
Corey Graves: Plus we witness the murder of Santos Escobar when he tries his luck against The Destroyer, Drew McIntyre!
Mauro Ranallo: And in our main event, it's Jamie Hayter's 3rd straight main event as she teams with Tyler Breeze to take on the old nWo stablemates, Kyle O'Reilly and Rick Rude!
Corey Graves: But we're burying the lead, tonight is the UWF Championship celebration of Sami Zayn!
Tom Phillips: How can he have a title celebration when the match hasn't even taken place yet?
Corey Graves: It's pretty much a done deal and Sami knows EC3 isn't going to shell out for him so he's gone ahead and taken matters into his own hands.
Mauro Ranallo: Well we'll definitely tune into that and more on tonight's Revolution!
After a brief flash of the Revolution logo, we are taken back to the ring where Orange Cassidy is seated with the Championship of the Intercontinents in one hand and a microphone in the other.
Without hesitation, he starts to speak.
Orange Cassidy: Okay, so, welcome to the contract signing for the UWF Championship of the Intercontinents match at Bad Blood between myself, the champion, and my opponent, Finn Failor.
There's a modest pop when O.C. mentions himself, and then a heavy wave of heat as he drops Finn's name. The fans are pretty clearly on the side of the champion as he looks out over them, scanning each and every one of their faces. There's a long, pregnant pause. An uncomfortable not-quite-silence. Orange says nothing, he just lets those fans show their contempt for Finn for a solid 20, maybe even 30 seconds. And then, finally, he starts looking around.
Where'd I put that thing? Oh, right –
Leaning forward, Orange reaches behind himself and pulls a folded-up document out of his back pocket, as well as an orange highlighter. He slowly and casually unfolds the document after slinging his title over one shoulder.
Okay, let's see here... I... He presses the tip of the highlighter to the document, reading as he signs: "Freshly Squeezed"... Signature done, he continues reading. ...do hereby agree to place my UWF Intercontinental Championship on the line in a singles contest, scheduled for one fall, with Finn Balor, the UWF Television Champion, on October 8th, 2023... yadda yadda... blah blah blah...
Cassidy nods, then puts his mark on a few more lines on the page.
Okay, my part's done. Finn, get out here and sign your part, and then we can make it all official and I can go sit at commentary and watch your match tonight.
Orange's never-care attitude is on full display tonight. He doesn't seem particularly worried about what Finn has planned for him for the evening. He just sits there and waits but doesn't have to wait for long as Finn Balor's music hits.
Finn Balor walks out from the backstage area and out onto the stage with his UWF Television Championship over his shoulder and a microphone already in hand. His music stops and he stands proudly on the stage as he is showered with boos from the crowd. Paying no mind Finn Balor raises his microphone up to his lips as he slowly makes his way down the ramp.
Finn Balor: You never change do ya' Cassidy, even with being tasked with something as simple as a contract signing you show little to no effort what so ever. Is that really how you think you should go about this? Do you really think thats the way you should be acting going into our match at Bad Blood? Y'know they always say before you sign a contract you should check the fine print because what you don't know is that you've just signed over your life to me.
Finn Balor makes it to the ring and takes a seat at the table with Orange Cassidy as he kicks his feet up and continues to speak.
Finn Balor: You see OC there may not be anything hidden in that contact but what you don't know is what you just signed up for. You just made it official for me to take your Intercontinental Championship and you don't even know it. You're stepping in the ring with a challenger thats hungry, with a challenger that doesn't play with his food and go through whatever it takes to stand victorious. You've beat the best UWF has to offer MJF, LA Knight, Drew Mcyintre but you could never say that you beat me OC. Now you've really got the chance to prove it, prove your not just some slick haired punk who's been getting lucky, Prove to me that you are the best champion in the UWF. Because as far as I can see when it comes to champions me and you are the top two and you're not number one OC, and at Bad Blood I have no problem showing that because I have a lot to prove as well. Because despite me taking this UWF Television Championship and making it relevant again, despite me being the main reason everybody tunes in week after week after week I'm still underrated. So I'll just say this OC at Bad Blood bring your A game because I know I will.
Finn Balor picks up OC's Orange highlight as he just smiles and shakes his head before he proceeds to sign his name onto the contract with the Orange highlighter.
After signing the contract Finn Balor stands up staring Orange Cassidy down but can only see a reflection of himself in OC's sunglasses. Balor then holds his hand out to shake the hand of Orange Cassidy, and Orange looks like he's about to take the handshake, before he psyches Finn out and runs his hand through his hair instead, smirking at Balor. Finn looks pissed, but just before he throws a punch, the arena darkens, and a series of strobe lights begin to flicker and flash, creating an electrifying atmosphere. Orange rolls out of the ring as the crowd erupts with anticipation for the arrival of Finn's opponent.
Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!
Pyrotechnics explode, sending showers of sparks a nd flames high into the air. The deafening roar of the crowd reaches a crescendo as “Battle Tested” blast throughout the arena, Bronson Reed steps through the curtains, his massive frame radiating intensity.
Chimel: “Behold, Making his way to the ring, hailing from Brisbane, Australia and weighing in at 330 pounds… HE is the titan of terror, the embodiment of fury, the undisputed master of the squared circle, THE COLOSSUS... BRONSON REED!”
Bronson Reed confidently strides down the ramp, his steps feel as if they are shaking the very ground beneath him. His eyes pierce through the smoke, fixated on the ring, as he clenches his fists, ready to unleash his fury.
Bronson Reed ascends the steel steps, entering the ring with an undeniable presence. He removes his jacket as he looks ready to murder his opponent for tonight…
As the music reaches its climax, the lights illuminate the entire arena, revealing an awe-inspiring spectacle. Images of crashing waves and thunderstorms are projected on the screens, symbolizing the destructive force that Bronson Reed embodies.
Chimel: And his opponent, already in the ring. From Bray, Ireland, and weighing 180 pounds... Finn... BALOR!
Cassidy joins the announce desk, lackadaisically pulling on a headset as the referee calls for the bell.
VS 
DING DING!
Tom Phillips: We're getting underway with singles action here but joining us on commentary is Finn Balor's opponent for Bad Blood, the UWF Intercontinental Champion, Orange Cassidy.
Orange Cassidy: Actually, Tom, it's the Champion of the Intercontinents.
Corey Graves: Yeah, Tom. If you're going to violate all of the standards of an objective journalist you can at least be accurate in the process. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Squeezed, we have a match to call.
While commentary has been bantering, Balor hasn't wasted any time taking the fight to his foe, rushing in on Bronson and connecting with a running forearm. Unfortunately for Finn, it's a bit like throwing yourself into a brick wall. Big Bronson Reed hardly moves, his feet planted firmly on the canvas. Finn steps back a few paces, then rushes him for another forearm. This time, Bronson takes half a pace back, but then he resets his stance, shaking his head and laughing at Finn as he backs up and comes in for a third. Before he can connect, Bronson's meaty hand comes forward and pie-faces him, catching him in midair. Bronson's grip is vice-like as he keeps a hold on Finn, holding him with a grip over his face about half a foot off the canvas, and then just popping him up onto the shoulder before bullrushing to a corner, crushing Finn between his bulk and the turnbuckle! Finn sputters and coughs as the wind is completely taken out of him, and Bronson lets him slump as he pulls back, leaving the Irishman just barely standing in the corner. Bronson takes a few paces as he walks a semicircle, then comes rushing back in with a forearm smash of his own, followed by a second, and a third, and a fourth, all from the immediate proximity as he brutalizes the Television Champion in the corner.
Mauro Ranallo: Well, on paper it looked like this was going to be a mismatch just based on the size differential and in some ways that seems to be playing out here tonight. Finn Balor's offense seemed to have no effect, but Bronson Reed's withering blows are increasingly leaving the Television Champion looking out on his feet.
Graves: Well, what would you expect, Mauro? Each and every one of those forearm blasts from Bronson Reed would be like being smashed by a cannon ball. It's remarkable Finn is even still standing.
Bronson breaks off at the referee's insistence, walking across the ring to the far corner before letting out a roar and turning to rush right back in. This time, Reed ducks, looking like he plans to skewer Balor with a shoulder thrust at full velocity, but Finn actually twists to grab the ropes and leaps out of the ring as Bronson comes full tilt between the turnbuckles and collides shoulder-first with the ring post! The sound is sickening, the thud brutal, and the ring ropes shudder from the impact as Finn closes his fist and mean mugs Reed, grabbing a fistful of his hair in the free hand before cold-cocking him repeatedly on the forehead with the fist. The official is calling for Finn to knock it off and get back in the ring, but Balor doesn't stop until he's split Bronson's brow open, sending some blood in trails down his forehead. Finn then backs off and rolls into the ring as the official hits four on his count.
Phillips: Finn Balor showing a real killer instinct here by exploiting a mistake on the part of his opponent and drawing literal blood. Seeing something like this, Orange, are you at all concerned about your match with the Television Champion at Bad Blood?
Cassidy: Listen, Tom: I'm not going to lie. Finn Balor, he's a talented guy. I've seen what he can do, and what the Mafia is willing to do for him. He's the second-best champion in the UWF. It's just unfortunate that he's going to be facing the best.
Ranallo: I think that means he's not scared.
Balor has been stalking Reed as he slowly crawls to the middle of the ring and rises to one knee. Finn approaches, grabbing Reed's hair again, and again starts delivering strikes to the head, almost as if he's trying to concuss the big man. Reed seems to be defenseless against the blows. Operative word: seems. In fact, the man is feigning dazed, and in a moment of characteristic cockiness from Finn, Reed surges, wrapping both arms in a tight grip around Balor's spine and standing, crushing the much smaller man in a brutal bear hug! Finn cries out as Bronson wrings him like a dish cloth, crushing ribs and suffocating his opponent. Finn initially struggles, but as the bear hug remains locked in, the Television Champion begins to fade.
That is, until Bronson throws him to the canvas, shaking his head and loudly declaring that Finn doesn't get off that easily.
Graves: Bronson, what are you doing! You could've just won this thing!
Reed is stalking Balor as he crawls to the ropes, and when he gets there, Bronson grabs him in a German suplex clutch, pulling him up. But Finn clutches the top rope and refuses to be lifted, so Bronson sets him down for a moment, before trying again. Again, Finn holds onto that top rope like his life depends upon it. And then he throws an elbow back, catching Bronson on the jaw. Followed by another. And another. Bronson is staggered by the third, releasing his grip, and Finn spins around behind him, kicking him hard behind the knee. Bronson's leg nearly buckles as he stumbles. Finn runs the ropes, but Reed turns and comes looking with a furious lariat. Finn has it scouted, though, and uses Reed's own momentum to deliver a huge Sling Blade! The fans are booing as Finn rolls to the ropes and hauls himself up, then heads to the corner, making the guns with his hands as Bronson slowly rises near the opposite turnbuckles. When Reed turns, he's met with a running dropkick that sends him careening back into the turnbuckles, and when he stumbles out of those, his legs get swept out from under him by Balor, who then dashes to the apron and up the turnbuckles.
Phillips: Finn Balor is going up top, and you know what that means!
Ranallo: Vive la Revolution! It's time for the...
Finn leaps off for his patented top-rope, double-foot stomp, Absolutely devastating Reed on the impact.
Ranallo: COUP DE GRACE! MAMMA MIA!
Cassidy: Jeez, Mauro, can you take about 75% off there, bud?
Graves: That's what I've been saying!
Balor hooks the leg.
1...
2...
...3!
DING DING DING!
Here is your winner, the UWF Television Champion
FINN BALOR!
Finn's arm is raised as Orange removes his headset and rolls into the ring. Cassidy approaches the celebrating Balor, who regards him cautiously. "Freshly Squeezed" then extends his hand for a shake, silencing the crowd as they buzz in anticipation for a moment of sportsmanship. Finn nods, then takes the hand, shaking it. The crowd pops... until they see two hooded figures hop the barricades and slide into the ring. Orange sees them and tries to pull away from the shake to defend himself, but Finn has his hand locked up. Orange tries to pull away, then hits Finn with a disbelieving look before Balor smacks him in the mouth, sending his aviators flying off his face. Cassidy is momentarily stunned, and Finn shoves him toward one of the hooded figures, who grabs him in a chokehold and lifts him up before slamming him to the canvas. The figure pulls back his hood.
Phillips: It's Damien Priest!
Graves: There's that killer instinct you were talking about...
The second hooded figure heads to the top rope, but it's already obvious who it is well before he shakes his shoulders like a certain legend and leaps off with a Frog Splash. When Dominik Mysterio rises to his feet and pulls back his hood, the fans go nearly nuclear, and trash begins to rain over the ring. Then, Finn grabs the Intercontinental Championship and briefly poses with it.
Ranallo: Is this a preview of what the UWF Universe can expect to see at Bad Blood?
As Finn's showboating with the title continues, Priest and Mysterio haul Orange up with an arm hooked on either side by one of them. Finn turns to look at the champion, then looks at his title, before winding up and smashing Orange in the face with his own gold. Mysterio and Priest release the Champion of the Intercontinents and he lands hard on the canvas, seemingly unconscious, before Finn drops the belt on his unmoving body, then motions for his boys to follow him, the statement made. The Mafia heads out.
The titantron cuts to a live feed from backstage where Renee Young is standing by.
Young: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guests at this time, Bayley and Kyle O... oh... just Bayley?
Sure enough, its "just" Bayley walking into the shot. Homegirl's looking a bit frazzled too - like stuff's been kinda hectic leading up to this. She greets the company's top corespondent with an exagerated shrug, as if to say "Where's Kyle? Your guess is as good as mine, Renee."
Bayley: Where's Kyle? Your guess is as good as mine, Renee.
Young: But you two are pretty much inseperable.
Bayley: Yeah, but honestly, I've hardly seen him at all tonight. Right after we got here he just disappeared and I haven't heard from him since.
Young: He's got a big match tonight, though. Its the second nWo reunion of the year with Kyle and Rick Rude teaming up to take
The "Good Guy" cuts her off before she can rattle off the dirty deets of the marquee match-up.
Bayley: You don't think I don't know that? We've been gameplanning all week. Kyle's been chomping at the bit to get his hands on this Tyler Brezze jamook, believe you me. So I don't know what the deal is. Maybe he's off getting some last minute training in. Its been a hot minute since he added a new move to the arsenal. Odds are he's watching orca attacks on youtube, coming up with the next addition of "Whale Breach".
Young: That definitely sounds plausible.
Bayley nods. Renee nods back. Bayley purses her lips. Young looks at the floor. Awkard silence. Nothing is happening.
Bayley: Sooooooo...
Young: Yeah, gotta be honest, Bayley. I had some questions lined up for Kyle and two minutes of air time to fill but with him not here, well...
Bayley: Anything you wanna ask me while I'm here?
Renee doesn't wanna say "no" with her words but her expression speaks volumes. Bayley's like "Oh. Okay. I get it," with the look on her own face and then also shes says it.
Bayley: Oh. Okay. I get it. Alls I am is just some eye candy - a hot piece of ass so the folks in the midwest can tune in without feeling too ashamed about watching ninenty-percent naked men squeeze each other real hard. Fine by me. I'll just shut my pie hole and do what I do best, wander around without bothering anybody! As a matter of fact -
Her ranting and raving fades out as she storms off down the hall. Renee doesn't try to stop her. Revolution rolls on!
The feed captures Leyton Buzzard as he darts through the streets of Harlan, his breath heavy and his movements frantic. He glances over his shoulder, paranoia fueling his every step.
Pedestrians stop and stare, their expressions a mix of shock and concern as Leyton rushes past them. Some pull out their phones to dial for help, while others instinctively step aside, creating a path for him.
Buzzard runs through town pushing past the locals, his path unpredictable and desperate. He ducks in between buldings, glances behind corners, always on the lookout for any sign of pursuit.
As Leyton turns a corner, he spots a small diner up ahead. Without thinking, he rushes towards it, his breath hitching with every stride. He pushes through the door, the BELL above it jingling sharply.
As there’s a break in the action, things cut to the outside of a church for a moment before cutting to a shot of the inside. It’s dimly lit but there’s enough light to see Vinny Marseglia sitting in one of the pews with his hands together on the pew in front of him.
Vinny Marseglia: I’ll be the first to freely admit that I don’t understand or practice a lot of things that make up religion: mercy, forgiveness, loving your fellow man. Even if I did, a man of the cloth would take one look at this tattooed body of mine and the sin in my eyes and have a heart attack. But there’s one thing I do understand and know, and that’s my skepticism about Trevor Lee. See, laying claim to being a god in wrestling isn’t an original boast, nor is laying claim to being the God, it’s usually something said by men to spark interest or kick up shock value and controversy, but even with all that being the case, Trevor Lee and his followers believe him to be the genuine article. Like I said, I’m skeptical.
If you are a deity that’s taken on flesh, Trevor, then why was a mortal man in Drew McIntyre able to dispatch of you so easily? What was there for you to gain to let that happen, if in fact you did let that happen? There’s more questions I’ve already asked, of course, but here’s one more: if you’re the Almighty, He who cannot sin, then why are you breaking one of your own commandments by coveting? Coveting the UWF Championship back in your possession, coveting the worship of others, and as it pertains to yours truly, coveting the proof that you’re better than the, “Horror King”. An awful lot of lust in a heart that’s supposed to be entirely pure, don’t you think?
Vinny stands up and walks towards the aisle, then pivots and walks to the front of the church, putting his hands in his pockets as he looks up above the altar at the cross.
Vinny Marseglia: Regardless of if you are the Creator or my skepticism is correct though, you’ve met someone that you can’t decisively get past without resorting to something underhanded, and that’s another reason I chose a regular wrestling match so that your hands would be tied and you’d be in a winless situation. But it’s like I’ve said, this is only the first act, which means I have plenty up my sleeve still for you and your Harlan hypocrites before I’ve had my fill. Bad Blood is just the beginning, or in terms you may better understand, the Genesis. Revelation is coming, but we’ve got a lot of ground to cover before we get there. Revere me. Fear me. And bow down, to your, “Horror King”.
Vinny continues to look up at the cross as Revolution continues elsewhere.
The camera would cut to Ricky Starks arriving at the arena earlier in the day, luggage over his shoulder, he would look at the camera.
Ricky Starks: You know tonight here, in the great city of Atlanta, "Absolute" Ricky Starks is feeling absolutely great. Tonight I get the chance to shut up that big mouth, LA Knight, a task upon completion I'm sure I'll personally be thanked for.
Ricky would chuckle slightly.
Ricky Starks: Ricky Starks is also feeling great because we are just a week away from Bad Blood and I finally get a chance to settle some Bad Blood between me and Roman Reigns once we step across the ring from each other. Roman for months now you've been avoiding me but now well, no more avoiding me, just me and you, one on one.
Ricky would then clap his hands.
Ricky Starks: Well if you can excuse me folks, I need to get ready to do what Ricky Starks does well and that's kick ass. First Knight and then Reigns, damn it feels good to be Ricky Starks.
With that Ricky would swagger off into the arena.
Chimel: The following contest is a non-title match and is set for one fall!
Santos Escobar comes out to oodles of fanfare!
Chimel: Introducing first, representing the LWO... Santos Escobar!
Escobar hits the ring and prepares for the biggest match of his UWF career so far.
As the sound of metal clashing echoes around the building, “Wish It Away” by Psycho Dalek starts to play and out from behind the curtain steps the reigning UWF Champion, Drew McIntyre. With the title belt strapped around his waist, The Scotsman slowly walks towards the top of the ramp and after taking a moment to stop and look at the ground, he tilts his head up and raises both fists in sync with two fire pyrotechnics either side of him.
Chimel: And his opponent, from Ayr, Scotland. Weighing in at 265 pounds. He is the Ultimate Wrestling Federation Champion, The Destroyer, Drew McIntyre!
The master of the Claymore walks down the ramp and upon reaching the end makes a turn towards the steel ring steps. After taking a brief pause, he smacks the top of them with his open right hand, not once, but twice, before climbing up and entering the ring through the middle rope. Once inside, McIntyre heads for the opposite turnbuckle, climbs to the top rope, unclips the title and perches for a moment before raising it high into the air with his right hand. As more fire pyro goes off from the stage, McIntyre dropping back down to the mat and unclips his ring coat with his spare hand in anticipation for the upcoming contest to begin.
Tony heads out of the ring and after ensuring both competitors are good to go, the Official calls for the bell.
DING DING
The bell sounds off like DING and that means its time to start wrestling. Apparently nobody told Drew McIntyre that, though, cause the UWF Champion is standing there like he's waiting in line for groceries, flashing all the urgency of Garfield on a Monday morning.
Escobar, on the flip side, looks like he's got something to prove tonight! Heaven knows if EC3 got the memo, but the word on the street is that if Santos can rack up a win against Mister Reigning / Defending, that world title tilt at Bad Blood is gonna get a man more crowded.
So its the LWO member who makes the first move, light on his feet as he closes in on Drew. Now Big Mac might not be taking his opponent too seriously, but he ain't about to let buddy get a free shot in, neither. Escobar finds himself greeted by a collar-and-elbow from Drew, with the enormous size differential coming into affect in mere seconds.
McInytre pushes his foe back with a hefty shove, knocking the would-be contender over backwords. This guy is somebody famous' El Hijo, though. He was raised between the ropes - practically born in the ring. His first steps were on the canvas so its no surprise when he recovers from the tumble with perfect grace, rolling backwards and sprining on to his feet like it ain't nothing but a thang.
Ranallo: I imagine that this will be the story of the match - Escobar's supreme agility versus McIntyre's mammoth strength.
Graves: Smart money's on the bigger dog in the fight, trust me.
Phillips: I don't know, Corey. Santos Escobar has had many opportunities to shine on his own yet, but he was a big star in Mexico. Given the chance to finally make a name for himself, don't be surprised if he steps up to the plate and knocks it out of the park.
Graves: Oh, you're a baseball guy now, Phillips? Name five teams!
No time for that now! Escobar and McIntyre are at it again! This time, instead of the collar-and-elbow, it'll be a Greco-Roman Knuckle Lock! Classic! Santos offers one hand, brave yet cautious. Drew enthusiastically accepts, certain he'll once again dominate the smaller man with his big arms and the power of his muscles.
Hands lock. Fingers intertwine. McIntyre offers his other palm so they can do a test-of-strength type thing but Santos ain't about that life. Instead, he pulls so typical lucha foolery, leading his opponent by the hand toward the ropes which he hopes on to like a cat, then bounces off to come down and flip Drew with a - you guessed it - ARMDRAG~!
Ranallo: Here we go!
Phillips: Well there's the Blue Jays, for starters...
Gravity is weaponized and Drew is the victim and Santos gets him down to the mat. Big Mac is quick to get back to his feet but why even bother? Here comes Escobar bouncing off of the far ropes like a whatever Mexico's version of a boomerang is. The UWF Champ attempts to engage but the best laid plans of mice and men can't do a dang thing against a headscissors.
One hurricanrana later, Santos is on top of Drew, Drew's shoulders are on the mat, and with a Mysterio-esque sit-on-the-guy-after-a-rana type maneuver, Escobar endeavours to pin the World's Champion! The Referee comes in for the count...
1...
Heck no! Drew catapults that guy off at one with authority. Perhaps too much authority, though, on account of Escobar vaults towards the ropes, lands on the second and immediately springs back head-over-heels and smashes McIntyre with a Lionsault! He stays on for the cover again...
1...
2...
No! Drew kicks out at two!
Ranallo: Santos Escobar is taking it to the Champion!
Graves: Flash pins for a flash in the pan and none of them anywhere near a three count! Don't buy the hype.
Phillips: Then there's the Yankess, of course...
Escobar rolls off as the crowd goes wild. This is surpassing their expectations and also living up to their wildest dreams. The Escobarbarians in the room tonight have been waiting for the arrival of their boy for months now - tweeting tweets about how someday, somehow, he'd been given the moment to show up and show out and when he did, it would be a game changer.
Santos pulls back, giving Drew just enough rope to hang himself by letting the guy get to to a standing base. Once McIntyre's there, Escobar pounces, once more going up to the shoulders and finding a seat there. He pivot so he's in that front-facing One-Winged Angel kinda position.
Ranallo: He might be thinking a Poisonrana? No better way to beat a bigger opponent then by using their mass against them!
Phillips: Who else... hmmm....
Escobar tragically never gets the chance to stunt on his opponent. McIntyre grabs his calves just as he's leaning back, then launches him in the opposite direction. Its a Reverse Alabama Slam! An Amabala Slam! And it sucks - it just effing sucks to get belly-flopped at high-speed into the ring like that. It hurts your whole body, the chest and the stomach and the tip of the nose, especially.
The fans wince cause the landing is bowling shoe ugly. Escobar peels himself off the canvas and rolls over, groaning like there's a big test at school today. Its enough damage to justify a cover, but McIntyre's just getting started. With Stokely egging him on at ringside, the Champ gets to work while the once-hot crowd simmers down.
Graves: Santos got some shine in but the shadow of Drew McIntyre is one that this whole roster has to live under.
Phillips: Oh! There's Red Sox and White Sox!
McIntyre hoists Santos off the mat, settling back into that leisurely pace he opened with. There's no rush now that he's got the guy winded. Wrapping Escobar up in a tight Bear Hug, Big Mac gives him a rib-cracking squeeze ahead of a Belly-to-Belly Suplex that flips the guy like a pancake. The LWO member crashes into the ring again but harder and he's all the worse for it.
Drew shows no quarter. He gets Escobar up again then sends him into the ropes. Its a miracle the guy can stand, let alone run, let alone bounce back even faster. Making what some might call a mockery of those lucha roots, the UWF Champ catches his foe and tilt-a-whirls him around before connecting with a vicious Backbreaker! Oof! With that, he finally elects to shoot the half...
1...
2...
Santos gets that shoulder up at two, reigniting the hopes of the fans with his tenacity. McIntyre looks slighted by the audacity. Looking to put a cap on this one, ye yeets buddy up off the ground by way of double underhooks making it perfectly clear what his intentions are...
Graves: Futureshock DDT incoming, and that'll be it.
Ranallo: I'm sure Escobar was hoping to fare better than his LWO partner Eddie Guerrero did at Backlash, but this could be lights out for this impressive young star.
Graves: What was the team from Moneyball again? No wait, don't tell me... I'll get there...
The cocksure Champion shoots a glare over at the hardcam, as if to let the Contender he's certain is watching know what's in store for him. At ringside, Stokely Hathaway is cheering his guy one - the lone pro-McIntyre voice in an arena full of boos.
As McIntyre pulls back to drop head, however, Santos surprises him by jumping up and flipping him over! He presses down as Drew falls to the mat and makes something of an impromptu Jackknife cover to steal the pin! The Referee slides in to count it...
1...
2...
Drew gets him off just in the knick of time!
Ranallo: Close call! And I'm sure Sami Zayn would have been over the moon at his celebration later on tonight if Drew were to take an L like that.
Phillips: The Seahawks! No... wait... that's not baseball...
Graves: Oh my Lord, Phillips are you actually still going?
Escobar rolls off but is the first to the draw, clipping Drew right in the jaw with a thunderous knee strike to daze him! McIntyre's all wobbly but Santos won't let him drop. Instead, he somehow manages to hoist the much larger man up on to his shoulders in a Fireman's Carry position. Even with his banged up torso and damaged spine, he gets Drew up there to go for his Phantom Driver!
Only thing is, when he tries to bring his opponent up and over to spike his head, Drew slips off the back and stumbles into the ropes. He uses the elastic rebound to give himself all the boost he needs to get the train rolling down the tracks. Santos turns around just in time to see the headlights.
Graves: Claymore Kick!
Ranallo: Mamma Mia!
Drew dang near takes his head off with the boot. Santos goes down and Drew jumps on top for the cover...
1...
2...
3...
DING DING
YOUR WINNER...
THE UWF CHAMPION, DREW MCINTYRE!
His music hits the PA and Stokely rolls into the ring to celebrate with him. Escobar rolls out the side and falls to the floor, earning at least a second glance from Drew who didn't expect that kinda fight from the guy.
Ranallo: Escobar showed tonnes of potential but lets face it, Drew McIntyre is a force to be reckoned with unlike anything else in the UWF today.
Graves: Nobody is going to outmuscle him, and now with these wins over two top luchadors since his return, its safe to say he's got an answer for high-fliers too. Kyle O'Reilly has a thousand moves and none of them were good enough. I honestly think the only person who might stand a chance is a master tactician like Sami Zayn, who we're going to hear from later tonight, need I remind you.
Phillips: Are the Bulls -
Graves: THE PIRATES, YOU IDIOT. JUST SAY THE PIRATES.
Phillips: Dude... I told you not to help me.
Drew leaves the ring to head up the ramp, with Hathaway finding a camera to shout in as he rants and raves about the greatness of the UWF Champion. Revolution rolls on!
The feed switches back to a live feed from backstage as Renee Young is walking backstage.
Renee: Here I am backstage nearing the locker room of one of the men in tonight’s main event!
Renee stops whenever she reaches the room that has a sign posed “Ravishing” Rick Rude. She gives a light tap to the door. There is a commotion coming from behind the door. After a minute or so, the door opens and Bayley is patting down her hair, which is obviously still a mess.
Renee: Bayley? This is quite a surprise! I was hoping to get a few words with Rick before the main event this evening. Is Kyle in there, by chance?
Bayley’s eyes widen.
Bayley: Uh..no…he, uh…He’s already left, I think he’s in catering-OH MY GOD! Is that the Honky Tonk Man?! I’ve gotta go talk to him!
Bayley frantically exits the camera shot. Renee looks on puzzled as the door to Rude’s locker room slowly closes. Once it has latched itself shut, Renee knocks again.
Rude:(muffled from behind the door) Back for round three, already?
Rude opens the door, in just a towel. Renee’s face is that of pure shock and dismay.
Rude: Oh, Renee! I thought you were, nevermind. What brings you here?
Renee’s eyes drift up from the towel around Rude’s waist.
Renee: I, um…I was hoping to uh, get your thoughts on tonight’s main event?
Rude: Always talking shop-talk, eh? My thoughts on tonight’s main event are fairly simple, Renee. My partner and I find ourselves in the awkward position of having to humble two young punks a week earlier than our scheduled matches at Bad Blood. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get dressed for my match that is coming up.
The feed switches back to a live feed from backstage as Renee Young is walking backstage.
Renee: Here I am backstage nearing the locker room of one of the men in tonight’s main event!
Renee stops whenever she reaches the room that has a sign posed “Ravishing” Rick Rude. She gives a light tap to the door. There is a commotion coming from behind the door. After a minute or so, the door opens and Bayley is patting down her hair, which is obviously still a mess.
Renee: Bayley? This is quite a surprise! I was hoping to get a few words with Rick before the main event this evening. Is Kyle in there, by chance?
Bayley’s eyes widen.
Bayley: Uh..no…he, uh…He’s already left, I think he’s in catering-OH MY GOD! Is that the Honky Tonk Man?! I’ve gotta go talk to him!
Bayley frantically exits the camera shot. Renee looks on puzzled as the door to Rude’s locker room slowly closes. Once it has latched itself shut, Renee knocks again.
Rude:(muffled from behind the door) Back for round three, already?
Rude opens the door, in just a towel. Renee’s face is that of pure shock and dismay.
Rude: Oh, Renee! I thought you were, nevermind. What brings you here?
Renee’s eyes drift up from the towel around Rude’s waist.
Renee: I, um…I was hoping to uh, get your thoughts on tonight’s main event?
Rude: Always talking shop-talk, eh? My thoughts on tonight’s main event are fairly simple, Renee. My partner and I find ourselves in the awkward position of having to humble two young punks a week earlier than our scheduled matches at Bad Blood. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get dressed for my match that is coming up.
Rude shuts the door in Renee's face as the camera cues back.
We go backstage as Tyler Breeze does a picture perfect runway turn and walks a couple strutting steps, as if his idea of getting ready is practicing his modeling steps. he pauses but continues looking at his phone once Bliss steps in with a smile on her face.
Alexa Bliss: So I've got some exciting news.
Tyler Breeze: Did EC3 agree to let DOmos replace me in tonights tag team match so I don't have to share the ring with all those uggos at one time?
Alexa Bliss: No, still working on that one. But after reading up on everything I've officially signed the contract for your match at Bad Blood, I know it's been promoted and talked about all week like it was official but of course you know I had to read the contract and make sure there was proper incentive for you so it's finally official now that I've managed to make sure it's a marquee match and that I got you interview time on that night as well. So you're big Pay-Per-View rollout is set to be a major one, and all we need is momentum going into it, so are you ready for tonight?
Tyler Breeze: As ready as I can be, I mean it's hard to care about beating someone I'm going to beat and beating some I've already beaten...Especially when all I'm really doing, is allowing someone like that Jennifer Lovely girl to undeservingly get some of my spotlight. Especially after she threatened me leading up to this match, how did I get stuck doing this match again?
Alexa Bliss: It's the way management is nowadays, they love their weekly tag team matches. It's better than how it used to be, we were lucky to be featured at all back then remember?
Tyler Breeze: Every time I enter a room, I am the feature. But I suppose it's fine enough, I'll try my hardest to pretend to care, but as soon as my uggo partner messes things up I'm not making any promises on staying around. So start working on spinning it for the news sites, oh and with their ugly friends and family package always with them... is DOmos ready to do his job out there?
Omos: Yes sir, always ready.
The booming voice of Omos startles Breeze, who looks to one side to see Omos standing there with one hand clasping his wrist resting in front of him.
Tyler Breeze: Oh, you're here...
Omos: Been here literately the entire time you have.
Tyler Breeze: Yes yes the weather is lovely, just make sure you're ready. That Brianne girl has been giving me a look that reminds me of this one normie who got past security during one of my signing gigs and hugged me, I remember having to take 15 showers that night, which as you know is up from my usual 12, just to get her Normie off me. Look I could swear it's her before she became Karls auntie, let me find it.
Breeze scrolls through his phone, doing grand gestures in his swipes showing he has to scroll through thousands of pictures of himself before getting to the one he's talking about, but once he does he shows Omos and Alexa what he's talking about.
Omos: I don't know sir, that doesn't really look like Bayley.
Tyler Breeze: Yeah yeah I understand what you mean, Alexa! Who's Bayley?
Alexa Bliss: Kyle O'Reillys step-sister, you've met her before. She was on the big screen last week, she's the person you were just talking about 2 seconds ago, you just said you think she's this girl in the picture on your phone at this very moment.
Tyler Breeze: Doesn't ring any bells, but just...Just keep an eye out DOmos, I feel like I'm taking Crazy Pills here. My Chakra is all unaligned now from being expected to remember everything at all times, so Lexi tell my spiritual masseuse she's needed.
Alexa Bliss: We fired her.
Tyler Breeze: What? She's been working for me for 12 years, why did you fire her?
Alexa Bliss: You said she drank one of your water bottles.
Tyler Breeze: Oh yeah that's right, well she should of known better...I don't even drink them all, Water!
An arm extends from off screen to hand Breeze a water bottle.
I just like the little Click-clacky sound they make when you..
Breeze opens the bottle, but it just opens with no sound.
That one didn't do it... Water!
Breeze tosses the freshly opened bottle over his shoulder and the arm once again shows up to hand him another. Before he goes to open it Bliss interrupts.
Alexa Bliss: I'm still in the process of hiring a new one, but until then you have a match to get ready for so I'll go and work out the details on your interview for the Pay-Per-View while you get prepared. I'll be right back.
Bliss walks away as Breeze opens up another bottle of water, it doesn't make the click sound he likes and he tosses it away shouting for another water, but one doesn't appear.
Tyler Breeze: What do you mean we don't have any more waters? It's your one job, UGh. That's it, DOmos show him the door.
Omos reaches out with one arm and grabs the person by their shirt, in one motion Omos sends them straight at the closed door with such force that their upper body burst through the wood creating a hole in the door as the poor persons body just hangs folded up through the hole in the door. As they fall the rest of the way out the door, the door itself collapses back towards Breeze who is still looking at his phone not noticing. Omos catches the frame before it hits him and smacks with his other hand breaking it in half and letting the pieces fall to the floor where the camera shows over a dozen open bottles of water on the ground. As the wood cracks to Omos' sheer strength Breeze chuckles.
Tyler Breeze: There's the click clacky sound, good job uggo, you get to keep your job!
Breeze shouts to the broken heap of a man outside before he turns and continues his preparations as Omos just crosses his arms and stands at the door way becoming the new door for the room himself.
We come back to Leyton Buzzard, He enters the diner, its a mix of patrons, their conversations and the clatter of dishes creating a backdrop of normalcy. Leyton's presence is an abrupt interruption. He scans the room, his eyes wide and wild, searching for any sign of safety.
The WAITRESS behind the counter spots him, her eyes widening in alarm. She reaches for her phone, fingers trembling, ready to dial for help. But Leyton's gaze locks onto hers, and in that moment, a strange recognition passes over his face. Whispering almost to himself...
Leyton Buzzard: "Trevor Lee... he's here too."
The WAITRESS freezes, her phone forgotten. She exchanges a worried glance with a PATRON at the counter. Leyton's delusions are palpable, and a tension fills the air.
The camera pans, capturing the unease that has settled over the diner. Leyton stands in the center, a figure of chaos in this otherwise mundane setting. The world outside buzzes with the knowledge of Dr. Williams' fate, while inside, Leyton's delusions continue to drive him towards an uncertain future.
Once again the titantron switches from the UWF Revolution graphic to a live feed from backstage. This time walking down the hall we see the guy that was MIA earlier in the night - the one, the only, the The Diabetic Dragon! He isn't alone, either, but also, its isn't Bayley that's with him. Nor is it his tag team partner in tonight's main event, Rick Rude. Nor is it his husband, El Desperado. Nor is it his old roommate - empolyer - tag team partner, Larry Sweeney. Nor is it his ex-landlord's granddaughter, Asuka, nor even his partner in the Strong Dragons, Mark Henry.
Its The "Bad Boy" Joey Janela!
The two of them are looking thick as thieves as they stroll down the corridor, with Janela regaling his new pal with stories and such.
Janela: ... so then I says to her "If its still in the shopping cart, I haven't technically stolen anything yet no matter how many blocks away I am now!"
KO'R: Hahahaha oh my gosh, for real? Dude, that's nuts!
Janela: Oh buddy, that's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm telling ya Kyle, I know you can't eat sugar or nothin', but shoplifting is like sugar for the soul. You gotta try it sometime. As a matter of fact -
THERE YOU ARE!
Bayley arrives on the scene, storming down the hall at top speed.
Bayley: I've been looking all over for you all night!
Kyle looks kinda surprised to hear that. Joey scoffs like he doesn't even see what the big deal is.
KO'R: Me and Joey were just -
Bayley: Kyle! You've got a match starting in like two minutes! You've gotta get to Gorilla!
Janela: Yeeeeeeah Kyle get to Gorrrrrillllllaaaaaaagggghghghghg!
Joey's nasaly Bayley impression scores a ten on the giggle scale with the Human Swiss Army Knife.
KO'R: Pfffffffft oh man you nailed it!
Bayley shoots daggers at Janela who puts up his hands all defensive and innocent like.
Janela: Hey, relax! I'm just messin' around! I was actually just bringing Kyle to Gorilla right now. We've been coming up some new tricks to pull on those jabronies Breeze and Hayter. My man's gotta send a message going into Bad Blood, ain't that right, Kyle?
KO'R: Oh yeah. For sure. Its gonna be a massacre out there. We've got some BIG ideas.
The "Good Guy" looks at The "Bad Boy" real suspiciously but there's no time to deal with that now.
Bayley: Fine. Whatever. Lets just get going.
Janela: I'll be watching on the monitor. Knock 'em dead!
KO'R: Thanks dude!
Kyle and Joey pound it before Bayley grabs him by the other wrist and drags him off towards Gorilla. Joey smirks as he watches them go. Snake-ily. Revolution rolls on!
The lights in the arena go down turning a dark blue, after a few seconds a spotlight hits the stage shining on Alexa Bliss standing center stage.
Alexa Bliss: Ladies and Gentleman, Tyler Breeze is entering the building.
The three time MTV Euro Award winning music video begins to play on the titantron, as the sounds of camera flashes fill the arena. We get a shot of the infamous, and still so totally in, furry boots strutting across the stage before they line up. Once the theme hits Breeze does a perfect turn to the crowd with one of his signature looks, allowing them a gaze upon him for a few moments before his attention is turned to the phone in his hand as he stares at his image on his phone. Breeze cocks an eyebrow and points at his forhead, to which Bliss immediately uses her metal hand accessory as a comb to brush the hair into place for him. As this happens, behind Breeze and Bliss lumbers out the Colossal Omos, hidden in the shadow of Breezes spotlight so seeming like a giant shadowy figure behind the Gorgeous one. Breeze begins to walk down to the ring with Bliss keeping up and Omos following behind him.
Tony Chimel: Weighing at 204 pounds, from his Seasonal Residence in Monte Carlo, Monaco: Tyler Breeze!
Tyler struts down to the bottom of the stage and pauses, looking around at his 'adoring' fans. As he pauses Bliss continues walking around the ring. Breeze follows her around as Omos walks the opposite side and to the steel steps. Bliss jumps up on the ring apron and stands there as Breeze arrives, Bliss holds onto the ropes and twirls her legs back through the ropes, at the same time Breeze leans against the ring apron and spins his feet beneath the bottom rope to twirl to his side on the ring apron as Bliss lands in the ring twisting herself all the way in before she steps up on the bottom rope and leans over the top posing as Breeze relaxes on the ring apron staring at his phone. Behind them walks up Omos who is so giant he merely stands behind Alexa who is standing on the bottom rope and is still towering over them with his arms crossed. Bliss bounces herself off the bottom rope and Breeze rolls into the ring. Omos steps over the top rope and to the ring apron as Breeze walks the ring and turns to the hard camera just in time to mouth along with his song the line this is perfection "Personified". Once done he backs up into the corner and stays lovingly staring at his phone, as he kicks his feet up in the air and lays across the ropes like a hammock. Breeze gets off the ropes continually staring into his phone, Bliss snaps her fingers and Omos reaches over to delicately take Breezes designer vest off of him and step off the ring apron as Bliss gets hold of the phone in Breezes hand, holding it in place so Breeze can still keep looking at himself before Breeze simply turns to his opponent and Bliss immediately puts the phone away and steps out of the ring.
The slow intro of "Teenage Nosferatu Pussy" blares throughout the arena as the lighting changes to shades of orange and red. Once the opening lyrics are heard, Jamie Hayter steps through the entrance curtain and is met with jeers and boos. She stops on the stage, bends down, and then quickly leans backward while raising her arms. This triggers the pyro, which shoots up through the stage. The camera zooms in on her as she starts sauntering down the entrance while talking shit.
Tony Chimel: "From Southampton, England... JAMIE HAYTER!!!"
Jamie makes it to ringside and stops. She eyes the ring before climbing up onto the apron. She enters the ring and looks to the crowd. She cups her hand around her ear, similarly to Hulk Hogan, and the jeers and boos only intensify. She looks at the crowd with disdain and mockingly applauds as if telling them that's all they should do for her. This only gets the crowd angrier as they continue showering her with boos.
A lone synthetetic violin whispers through the air like a pterodactyl screech. Soon, a breakbeat ripples beneath. Strobe lights illuminate the entrance way. When the riff kicks in, it heralds the arrival of the Diabetic Dragon. Kyle O'Reilly storms out on to the ramp, fists and jaw clenched, looking like the quiet kid on a bad day while his step-sister Bayley follows close behind. He does some shadow boxing at the head of the ramp while Tony announces his stats.
Chimel: Being accompanied to the ring by Bayley, from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada... weighing in at 200 pounds... the winner of 2023 King of the Ring Tournament, Kyle O'Reilly!
Our beloved Canuck's pace is in lock-step with the groove en route to the squared circle. The fans in the arena born on the good side of 9/11 know the words and can't help but sing along when the chorus drops. Feeding off that energy, Kyle is spiritually compelled to shred his title belt like a guitar as he steps through the ropes to compete. He rocks the heck out with the UWF Universe before getting ready to friggin fight. Bayley, meanwhile, lurks and lingers on the fringe of the apron ready to fight dirty if it comes to that.
OWW, SIMPLY RAVISHING!
The theme music begins to blare throughout the arena as there is a mixed reaction from the crowd. Eric Bischoff slinks out onto the entrance ramp taunting the fans.
Bischoff turns back to the curtain and begins bowing over and over again before “Ravishing” Rick Rude walks out onto the stage.
Rick Rude and Eric Bischoff begin making their way down the ramp.
Tony Chimel: From Robbinsdale, Minnesota. Weighing in at 252 pounds, “Ravishing” Rick Rude!
Bishoff is the first up the steps at ringside and sits on the second rope for Rude as Rude steps into the ring. Rude looks out amongst the crowd for a second before requesting a microphone.
Rude: Cut my music!
Once the music dies down Rude continues.
Rude: What I’d like to have right now…is for all of you fat, out of shape, overweight, Atlanta asshats to keep the noise down while I take off my robe and show all of these ladies what a real sexy man is supposed to look like! Hit my music!
The music begins again as Rude begins to disrobe.
VS
DING DING DING
Breeze doesn't even humor the thought of starting off the match which works for Hayter who is more than willing to take charge and beat some ass. Kyle wants to start things but he points at Breeze saying he wants him. Tyler is busy looking at himself in his phone and he doesn't even notice Kyle. Jamie is more than willing to step up to the challenge. She walks up Kyle and is squaring up. They circle around each other and tie up. Kyle quickly manages to get behind her. He goes to lift her up but she places her foot inside his leg to prevent him from picking her up. She gives him an Elbow to the side of the head to break his grasp. She whips him into the ropes but Kyle hangs on. Jamie runs over to Clothesline him over but KYle gets his boot up and sends he back a few paces. He then runs at her but she catches him with a Uranage! She makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Kyle kicks out! She picks him up right away and lifts him up for a Vertical Suplex. Kyle ends up falling behind her and stumbles back into his corner. Jamie turns to look at him but Rude tags himself in. He's got a big smirk on his face as he enters the ring. Jamie crosses her arms looking at him as he puts his hands behind his head and moves his hips. Jamie gags and turns away.
Mauro Ranallo: Looks like Jamie's not a fan of Rick Rude.
Corey Graves: She clearly has bad taste in men. I mean I'm not into men but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about when I see Rude.
Tom Phillips: What the fu-?
While Jamie is turned away, Rude blindsides her with a Clothesline to the back of the head! She falls to all fours and Rude smiles. He smacks her on the ass and laughs. He then stands in front of her and places her head between his legs. He smiles before lifting her up for a Piledriver but she falls back down and instead sends him up and over with a Back Body Drop. She gets gets on him and starts clobbering him with punches. He fights through the hits and kicks her off. They get to their feet at the same time and Jamie runs at him to wreck his shit but Rude gets her first with a Forearm! She's rocked enough for Rude to kick her in the gut and give her a Spike Piledriver! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Hayter kicks out! Rude grabs her by the hair and drags her over to the corner where he smashes her face into the turnbuckles. He seats her on the top rope and goes to go up there with him but she fights back and knocks him off. She comes off with a Diving Clothesline to take him down. She gets to her feet and stumbles over to Tyler to tag him in. He looks surprised, and wipes off his arm where Jamie tagged him.
Corey Graves: What does she think she's doing trying to feel up Tyler?
Tom Phillips: Did you not just see what Rude was doing to her earlier?
Corey Graves: Gracing her with his touch? Yeah I saw it.
Kyle rushes into the ring and grabs Rude, dragging him over to his corner and then exits and tags himself in. He runs right at Breeze but eats a Super Model Kick to face and gets knocked right out! Breeze makes the cover!
1 . . .
2 . . .
O'Reilly kicks out! Tyler walks right back over to his corner and tags in Hayter who had her back turned to them still recovering. She looks at Breeze and says "What the hell?" but Breeze just gets right on out. Jamie comes back in and beats down Kyle as he's trying to get up. She picks him up from behind and reaches over to grab his arm. He spins him out in the ripcord and pulls him in for the Hayterade but he counters the way he said he would, by flying up and wrapping around her arm to put her in the Vanilla Bar! Jamie tries to rush to the ropes but Kyle is able to keep her in place. She yells out for Tyler to come and break the hold but he's more preoccupied with fixing his hair. She grits her teeth and figures she's gotta do this shit herself.
Mauro Ranallo: This is basically a handicap match for Jamie Hayter.
Corey Graves: What are you talking about? Tyler almost just won the match with one kick just a few minutes ago.
Tom Phillips: Well he's not doing much to help now.
Corey Graves: Not much you can do with a partner like Jamie Hayter.
Jamie is able to get to her feet but Kyle is still hanging on upside down. She's able to drag him over to the ropes to break the hold. He lets go and gets to his feet. Jamie's arm is hanging down and it looks like she can barely use it. Kyle takes advantage with some kicks to her shoulder. She backs and and Kyle runs at her for the Harpoon Torpedo but Jami catches his knee and throws him into the corner with the Exploder Suplex! Kyle ends up knocking Breeze off the apron and he falls and grabs his ankle. He yells and Omos comes over and cradles him. They and Alexa start to walk to the backstage area.
Corey Graves: See what kind of person Jamie Hayter is? That's her own partner!
Tom Phillips: It was an accident and all he did was fall off the apron.
Corey Graves: Sometimes the biggest injuries don't look bad. She better hope he's not seriously injured.
Hayter is yelling at the trio for leaving but she doesn't notice Rude come in behind her and gives her a Back Suplex. The ref yells at him and tells him to leave since he's not legal but he uses the full 5 count to pick up Jamie and give her a Spike Piledriver! He exits out onto the apron as Kyle craswls over and makes the pin.
1 . . .
2 . . .
Hayter gets the shoulder up at 2! Kyle grabs onto her arm and immediately puts her in the Vanilla Bar once more! Hayter looks to her corner and is reminded that she's on her own. Rude is yelling at Kyle to break her arm and rather than keep on fighting and risk injury, she decides to tap out.
Tony Chimel: Here are your winners, Rick Rude and Kyle O'Reilly!
Corey Graves: Looks like Jamie couldn't handle the nWo.
Tom Phillips: It was a handicap match the whole way through and she didn't really get beaten.
Corey Graves: In what world is tapping out not getting beaten.
Mauro Ranallo: Well it wasn't due to her pain threshold running out she just knew she was outnumbered and didn't want to risk injury heading into Bad Blood.
Corey Graves: Excuses. The Prime Time Medal comes home to Rude and then the Intercontinental Championship will be next.
Hayter rolls out of the ring and grabs her arm looking up at Rude who's got a shit eating grin on his face. The nWo celebrate their win as the show moves on.
The scene cuts to the backstage area where The Mafia is seen celebrating after beating up Orange Cassidy but as everyone is celebrating Finn Balor seems to be stuck in his thoughts. Mafia Dom decides to reach out and see why Finn Balor is so off.
Mafia Dom
What’s the matter you're usually the most hyped after we finish destroying somebody.
Finn Balor just shrugs before replying to Mafia Dom
Finn Balor
I don’t know. Something just doesn't sit right with me it just feels different this time, it feels like maybe I’m in over my head y’know.
Priest and Rhea begins to tune into Dom and Finn’s conversation as Dom replies to Finn
Mafia Dom
That's nonsense, our mission when we stepped foot into the UWF was to take over, now look at it you’ve got an opportunity to hold not just one but two championships. Right now you need to challenge all of that negative energy and put it into something more serious like beating Orange Cassidy at Bad Blood.
Finn Balor nods his head seemingly gaining some confidence after some words from Dom Mysterio.
Finn Balor
Y’know what you’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking. I can beat Orange Cassidy, I will beat Orange Cassidy. You guys think I could beat Orange Cassidy right?
The Mafia seem a little reluctant as they hesitate to respond to Finn Balor just to keep his hopes up.
Finn Balor
Enough said, If I can’t count on you for an honest response I don’t need you in my corner at Bad Blood.
Balor storms off as The Mafia members stand there in shock.
Warhorse sits in the frame, already there, no Renee, no preface, no gimmick, but in gimmick, obviously, imagine seeing the dude without face paint? Spooky.
WARHORSE: TIME AND TIME AGAIN PEOPLE DON’T SEE WHO I AM. THE CROWD SEES IT, THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO GET IT WHO EVEN WRESTLE HERE. YET WHAT BAFFLES WARHORSE IS WHY A MAN LIKE LA KNIGHT DOESN’T GET IT. WHEN PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A JOKE I FEEL INSULTED. I’M NOT COMPLETELY DEAD SERIOUS, I’M NOT EXPECTING ANYONE TO PERCEIVE THAT OF WARHORSE.
I’M SURE EVERYONE’S LOOKING FORWARD TO RICKY STARKS VS LA KNIGHT TONIGHT. I’M SURE PEOPLE HAVE A LOT OF FAITH IN BOTH THOSE MEN. THEY HAVE THE UWF UNIVERSE’S RESPECT.
SO WHEN LA KNIGHT GETS ON THE AIR AND OVERLOOKS WARHORSE AFTER SUCH BLATANT DISRESPECT THE WEEK BEFORE? PUSSY SHIT. I CAN’T WAIT TO BEAT HIS ASS AT BAD BLOOD. GOOD BLOOD AS ANY TO ME WHEN IT’S IN MY HANDS BROTHER.
Warhorse sighs.
WARHORSE GETS DISRESPECT LEFT RIGHT AND CENTRE, FINN BALOR TRYING TO STIR SHIT, ORANGE CASSIDY TRYING TO STIR SHIT, DREW MCINTYRE TRYING TO STIR SHIT. I WONDER WHY. I WONDER IF IT HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE BRIEFCASE I HOLD. I DO WONDER. OH WELL. THEY CAN KEEP BEING PARANOID, AS I DEAL WITH MY DAYS ONE BY ONE, AND TODAY IS AS GOOD AS ANY TO BECOME CHAMPION. AND LA KNIGHT PROBABLY FEELS THE SHADOW WARHORSE CASTS WITH THAT AMOUNT OF PRESENCE. SOMETHING HE CLAMMERS FOR.
JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE PARANOID DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT AFTER YOU.
We head… elsewhere?
Images flash up on the screen of iron striking metal, blades being forged. The heat of the forge exemplified by the sparks of molten iron shooting off in all directions with every strike of the hammer. The camera pans to show a mountain of weaponry: swords, axes, warhammers as well as shields and armour pieces. The camera continues to pan around the room showing trophies of war, animal pelts, horns, antlers before the camera finally focuses on our main subject - the staring eyes of The Mighty Caleb.
The Mighty Caleb: Throughout my journeys through the many realms I have often heard the phrase - 'be careful what you wish for'. Bronson Reed you have made your wish and your wish was enter the field of combat with The Mighty Caleb in this 'Viking Rules' match. I think you have been watching too many of your televisions with the talking pictures without any true understanding of what a Viking' or indeed what to 'go a Viking' truly is. This image of the Viking as a barbarian, a machine of death and destruction - it is indeed warranted. For to go a Viking was to go to sea in search of plunder, to raid and pillage, to take whatever you wanted by any means necessary and to become rich at the expense of the weaker men. Many of these men were warriors and many of them were mere piratical maniacs. But I have gathered that from your challenge you wish for this to be a contest between two warriors without rules and without recourse for any of our actions... and if that is your wish... well then your wish will be granted Bronson.
Caleb goes back to hammering the blade as he continues to speak.
I have fought many men under many different circumstances but never have I had a man challenge me to such a bout. Some may call it foolhardy - but I know you Bronson Reed, I have felt the power of your strikes, I have been flattened by your sheer size. The Mighty Caleb has felt the fury of 'The Colossus' before and yet The Mighty Caleb stands here sharpening his iron, preparing for battle without fear. With no trepidation because I know that deep inside the mammoth chest of Bronson Reed lies the heart of a weakling. A man who hides behind others - a man who attacks from behind, a man who walks away from the fight. Your posturing, your bravado - it's all false and your motor mouthed friend Grayson Waller can try and convince the legions of UWF fans around the world that you are this great warrior but come Bad Blood, The Mighty Caleb will show the world that Bronson Reed is nothing more than the world's biggest mouse - all squeak and no bite.
Caleb plunges the blade into a cool well of water, steam emerges from the sizzling blade. Caleb looks to the blade and holds it to his face.
Make no mistake Bronson Reed, The Mighty Caleb is aware of your strength, your size, your sheer mass but you too must be aware of my desire to slay ye, the foul beast. Revenge is a great motivator to many men and it serves as my primary motivation come Bad Blood. Sharpen your steel Bronson, bring your weapons and bring all of your might because come Bad Blood...
Caleb swings and takes the head clean off of a mannequin before tossing the blade into the pile of weapons seen earlier.
I won't need blades, I won't need my axe... because I plan on felling the foul beast, The Colossus known as Bronson Reed with my bare hands. You chose this Viking Rules Match and by your own choices you will be slain at the hands of The Mighty Caleb. I will show no remorse, I will show no sympathy, you want the Viking... you shall have the Viking... and come Bad Blood, Gods willing... I will have the head of Bronson Reed. SKAL, SKAL, SKAAAAL.
Caleb pumps his fist high in the air as the camera settles on the fallen mannequin head as the scene fades and we head elsewhere.
We cut outside of the arena from there, immediately being met with a sight of Mister Trevor Lee staring at the lens of the camera.
Trevor Lee: "Well, mista' Marseglia, ya' got what ya' wanted, didn' ya'? Ya' wanted us two to only have ourselves a bit o' a one-on-one match, 'stead o' doin' anythin' crazy between the both o' us, an' yet ya' still had to go an' threaten my own prophet to get it. Such a shame, mista' Marseglia, that ya' brute force tactics ain't goin' to be workin' when we actually face off. I mean, really, it's a darn shame, but this is ya' own bed that ya' made, mista' Marseglia. Ya' wan' to face off wit' the God o' Professional 'Rasslin in what basically gives 'im a home court advantage? Fine by me, 'cause I will be more than happy to work within the rules to show why a king can never measure up to a God, rather than needin' to be all barbaric 'bout thins' like ya'self. So be prepared, mista' Marseglia, 'cause the two o' us at Bad Blood are sure as heck gon' 'ave ourselves quite a match...an' at the en' o' it all? Well, I'm rather positive that there ain't gon' be no need for any blood to be spilled, 'specially when I got ya' tappin' out in the center o' that there ring. It'll be jus' as thins' should be when a God an' a king square off - the God makin' the king submit."
The camera then fades from there towards the next scene...
The camera cuts to the ring where it's poorly decorated. There's confetti in the ring and a line of string on the ropes with letters that spell out "Congrats Sammy". There's a cake that's in a Walmart box and in front of it a velvet bag with what looks like the shape of a title belt. There's a single balloon in each corner except one where the balloon has deflated. Oh and there's also about 10 security guards all standing around the ring. Inside thing the ring though is none other than Becky Lynch. She's got a big smile on her face and she's twirling a microphone in her hand. She wants to speak but the crowd won't allow it, instead booing her every time she opens her mouth. Her smile fades and you can tell it's getting on her nerves. She motions for the crowd to pipe down as she brings the mic to her lips.
Becky Lynch: Well isn't it just so luvly to hear from all of you again. It's nice to be treated with such a warm reaction but we're not here for me tonight. No tonight is all about honourin' a true hero. The man who will usher UWF into a new boom period. The great liberator and NEW UWF Champion, Sami Zayn!
If you didn't think the boos weren't loud enough yet, the roof nearly blows off the joint as Sami Zayn's music hits. There's been plenty of other heels who have come in through UWF and generated a lot of hype but the sheer consistent annoying nature of Zayn puts their reactions to shame. Sami comes out looking surprised and has his hands on his cheeks, trying to hide his blushing. El Generico comes out along with him but it takes La Luchadora a few seconds to come out. She's looking rather bigger than usual and it's clear the outfit doesn't really fit her as it looks like it'll burst at any moment. You can also see Tattooed arms poking out of the spandex.
Mauro Ranallo: Luchadora looking rather... buff?
Corey Graves: I hope everyone finally shuts up about her and Becky Lynch being the same person. Clearly they're not. You think I should go in the ring and help celebrate?
Tom Phillips: Has anyone ever told any of you not to count their chickens before they hatch?
Corey Graves: It's called confidence Phillips, you wouldn't know anything about that.
Mauro Ranallo: I get being confident but a celebration before you even win the title? That's borderline delusional.
Corey Graves: And that's what makes our Forever Champion so great. He toes the line and never crosses it.
Generico opens the ropes for Sami who walks by security shaking their hand and thanking them for coming. He climbs into the ring and still looks so surprised with his hand on his heart. He walks over and gives Becky a hug and then she begins to speak once more.
Becky Lynch: Sami, we're all here gathering today to celebrate not only your UWF Championship win at Bad Blood, but also you as a person. Some people may not remember but when Sami first returned to UWF, he was unstoppable. He was beating wrestlers left and right, goin' undefeated and dethroning monsterous factions. He could have easily gone for the UWF Championship then but the only things he's better at then bein' a wrestler, is bein' a friend. I needed a job and he put his career on hold to team up with me. Together we ran the Tag Team Division and became 4 time World Tag Team Champions, the most in history. We would have kept defendin' those beauties but we were just too OP.
More boos from the crowd as they don't look back too fondly on the Dynamic Duo days.
Becky Lynch: You got me a job and helped redefine my career. Now I'm not only the most successful woman in UWF history but we're almost the most successful tag team period. I really relish those day but now, it's time you got your flowers. I slaved all day to make you this fine cake.
Becky lifts the Walmart box to reveal a very plain white cake that says Happy Anniversary.
Becky Lynch: It's uhh... the anniversary... of.... well it'll be the anniversary in future years of your big title celebration!
Becky goes in for another hug before anyone can think about anything she said. Sami looks pleased and grab a mic that's next to the cake.
Sami Zayn: Thank you Bex, this whole thing is everything I've ever wanted. And it's so great that you even managed to fly out my closest friends here to celebrate with me.
The security looks around at each other trying to figure out if he's talking about them.
Sami Zayn: These guys would do anything for me and that's why they're out here to protect their best friend in case any harm comes his way because believe it or not people, I'm not the most well liked person backstage.
Understatement of the year.
Sami Zayn: I get it though, I really do. When you're in such a competitive sport like Professional Wrestling, jealousy is bound to rear it's ugly head when someone is so clearly leagues above you. My talent knows no bounds and it can make people resentful. But don't cry for me people. I have fortitude and a strong support system of friends. That's something that Drew McIntyre could never have.
Who would ever want to be friends with someone like him? Let's not forget what he did to your beloved Danhausen. You people aren't privy to this but after he got hurt, Danhausen DM'd me and was remorseful of any hurtful words he said against me. He said he was simply jealous of my abilities but now that he's stepped away he can truly see how great I am. He called me one of his closest friends in wrestling so really you should all be on my side against Drew.
The blatant lies and attempts to get the crowd behind him really grind the gears of the UWF faithful.
Corey Graves: Wow what a come to Jesus moment for Danhausen. Respect.
Tom Phillips: You can't really believe that can you?
Corey Graves: Why not? What would Sami have to gain from lying?
Becky Lynch: It's hard not to see the error of your ways when it comes to you Sami. You make us all a better person and I think it's time we presented you with what you deserve.
Becky smiles and places her mic on the table before grabbing the velvet bag. She slowly pulls out what was inside to reveal the UWF Championship! It looks very...light. It's clearly a bootleg and not a very good one as the logo reads UWWF. Sami still places it over his shoulder and gives the camera the world's biggest, cheesiest grin.
Sami Zayn: Oh wow it looks so good on me! I put Drew McIntyre to shame now don't I?
Becky Lynch: Ladies and gentlemen, you're new UWF Champion!
Sami walks to the turnbuckles and climbs up to lift the title up high. It's upside down but the sheer happiness Sami is feeling could have anyone make an honest mistake.
There is no mistaking the imminent arrival of the real UWF Champion though as “Wish It Away” by Psycho Dalek takes over the arena sound system. The crowd appear somewhat surprisingly relieved as Drew McIntyre walks out onto the stage with Stokely Hathaway beside him. The latter looks pretty pissed off by what’s going on in the ring, whilst McIntyre appears rather composed in the moment.
Corey Graves: What are they doing here?? Nobody invited them, surely?
Tom Phillips: I think you’ll find that the actual UWF Champion can do pretty much whatever he wants, Corey.
Mauro Ranallo: That fact still might not sit right with some people Tom, but you can’t deny that it’s served McIntyre pretty well up to this point.
After patting his business associate on the shoulder and saying some indiscernible words, Hathaway nods and gives a thumbs up motion before returning to the backstage area as the Scotsman heads down the ramp. by himself With a microphone already in hand, McIntyre stops just before the end of the ramp as he notices that the ten man security team have blocked off the entrance to the ring. As the music comes to a close, the Scot takes a moment to look at everything that has been assembled for this celebratory bash before giving a fairly blunt take on it all.
Drew McIntyre: Seems like you’ve really spared no expense on this little soirée tonight…
Some laughter can be heard through various pockets of the crowd as McIntyre keeps things moving along.
Drew McIntyre: Before you decide to get on your high horse and demand that I apologize for playing the part of the proverbial party pooper, did you honestly think that pulling this stunt wasn’t going to get my attention? The clock is ticking down ever closer to Bad Blood, and as I’m preparing myself for the war to come, you’re out here playing silly games with your band of misfits!
Whilst evidently unimpressed by the whole charade before him, McIntyre remains relatively calm in the circumstances.
Drew McIntyre: Now on any other night I would tear all of this crap down in seconds and beat the living piss out of any of you that would dare to try and stop me, but believe it or not I’m actually going to leave things be tonight. Because as far as I’m concerned letting you believe in all of your own hype to this extent is only going to make the process of sending you packing from Minneapolis with egg on your face even more satisfying. As you were…
Some disappointed sounds eminent around the building as McIntyre turns away from the parade in order to make his way back towards the stage, but Zayn appears to have other ideas in mind.
Sami Zayn: You know what, normally I wouldn't settle for this. I could just snap my fingers and my friends here would throw you right out of this building but I'm not a monster. That's not the kind of guy I am. I'm a generous person and you can't help that you're the UWF Champion right now. Obviously it hurts, only having 1 defense to your name but people will understand. Instead I'm going to welcome you with open arms. You like cake? You guys mind stepping to the side to allow my new friend in here?
Security parts and leaves room for Drew to come right in. McIntyre isn't worried in the least and accepts Sami's offer by entering the ring.
Sami Zayn: Actually, silly me. It's rude to just let you guys keep standing there. How about you all come in too and join the party!
Security now enters the ring and essentially surrounds Drew, blocking off any exits he may take if he were to run away. Thankfully for him, that's not on his mind.
Sami Zayn: So Drew, what's it like being in a new environment like this? I know you don't really have any friends. You had to hire Stokely to hang around you while these fine folks all joined me willingly. Is it a bit depressing to just have no outside love? How lonely is it on the road for you?
Drew McIntyre: Believe it or not Sami I actually enjoy the extended spells of peace that I get from not having to waste my time trying to act popular in front of a bunch of losers. Perhaps once upon a time I would have given more of a damn about what certain groups of people thought about me, but as far the here and now goes, I’ve got no problem in continuing to run with the tried and trusted routine of simply coming in, doing my job to devastating effect and heading home afterwards. It’s worked out pretty well for me so far, and I see no reason why it won’t continue to do so in the days, months and years to come.
Sami Zayn: Hmm fascinating. I guess one must truly be selfish in order to succeed around here but luckily that's all about to change. I'm sure I'll be getting a thank you text once you see how much I've really done to make the UWF a better place. I'll start with catering. You really must try this cake.
Sami cuts a piece of cake and puts it on a plate to give to Drew. The UWF Champion looks at him, almost daring him to try and shove that in his face. Sami just smiles back as Drew takes the plate and eats some of the cake. Sami gives him a thumbs up and begins to speak again.
Sami Zayn: Good right? That's just one of the many treats I have planned for the future. Here have some more I know you're a big boy you need more calories!
Sami grabs a few more pieces of cake and goes to hand them to Drew. Clumsy Sami though ends up tripping over his own feet and the cake smashes into the UWF Championship and falls onto his boots.
Sami Zayn: Oh me oh my, what a klutz! Sorry about that Drew. Don't worry, I'll have that title fully cleaned after I win it so-
Drew McIntyre: Enough! I know exactly what game you’re trying to play right now and if there’s even an ounce of common sense lurking somewhere in that thick skull of yours, then you’ll do well to quit whilst you think you’re still one step ahead.
Sami Zayn: Well I'm glad to see you're still feeling so confident. It's going to hurt me to break that confidence but such is life. Then again you know, there are other ways we can settle this. I'm going to need you guys to make some room as we get ready for a.... DANCE OFF! Hit it!
The lights change and flash around as Sami begins to do what he does best. Dance.
This goes on for a tad too long and then he points at Drew and tells him it's his turn.
Drew McIntyre:…
To the surprise of hardly anyone, McIntyre has no desire to join in with Zayn’s dancing shenanigans. After pondering for a few moments though, the champ does eventually respond by flipping off the number one contender, which satisfies the crowd considerably and also throws Zayn off his rhythm.
Sami Zayn: So maybe you're not the best dancer. I get it, dancing in public can be embarassing if you cant do it and going after someone like me can really make you look bad so I get it if you didn't want to dance but hey, we got a big match coming up. How about we just let bygones be bygones?
There's a hopeful look on Sami's face as he grabs some glasses of champagne that were on the table and hands them out.
Sami Zayn: A toast! To a great match at Bad Blood!
Sami goes to clink glasses with Drew. McIntyre is more than just a little suspicious of him, plus who even knows what's in this drink. Sami can feel his fears and opts to drink first. He takes the glass of champagne and drinks from it only to spit it out right into the face of McIntyre!
Sami Zayn: What the hell, I thought I told you all I wanted Dom Pérignon!
Sami looks over to see Drew slowly wiping his face looking even more agitated.
Sami Zayn: Oh I'm so sorry Drew! I know you're used to probably drinking cheap drivel but I have a bit more classier sensibilities. As soon as that cheap stuff touched my tongue I couldn't let it go down. Here let me help with that.
Making matters go from bad to worse, Sami pulls out a rag from his jacket and starts rubbing it in Drew's face who swats his arm away. Security rushes in and gets between the two.
Mauro Ranallo: It looks like the you know what just hit the fan in a big way!
As the security effectively form a human wall in order to keep McIntyre at bay, Zayn gets himself out of the stramash as his running buddies then surround him to check that he is okay. Zayn seems more concerned by the that his fancy suit may have gotten ripped as McIntyre starts to pick apart the security guards that are in his way.
Tom Phillips: You guys remember what happened the last time a bunch of security tried to contain Drew McIntyre, right?
Corey Graves: Sami get the hell outta there, there’s a damn madman on the loose!
One by one the guards fall down, and whilst some continue to get back up in order to try and stop the UWF Champion, others decide that they want no further part of the lost cause and hastily exit the premises, Zayn and his crew see what is happening before them and the number one contender verbally berates the fleeing guards for being cowards. As McIntyre plants a Glasgow Kiss on one of the ones still remaining, two who were thrown from the ring attempt to re-enter, only for their attempts to be futile as they are greeted by chairshots to the back from Stokely Hathaway who has ran down the ramp with the weapon of choice in hand in order to give McIntyre some assistance. As Hathaway continues to swing like he’s trying to win the World Series on the outside of the ring, McIntyre sets his gaze on Zayn again, who now has Becky Lynch, El Generico and La Luchadora stood in front of him for cover.
Tom Phillips: I can’t help feeling he’s going to regret not taking your advice, Graves.
Corey Graves: It’s fine, Luchadora, Generico and Lynch are more of a combined threat than double that poxy security force!
As a staredown ensues for a few seconds, Generico and Luchadora both charge at McIntyre, only for the Scot to clothesline them both and leave him with a much clearer path to his intended target. Lynch takes a step away from Zayn and feigns an attempted attack which McIntyre is able to anticipate, however it proves to be an alternative distraction as Zayn grabs a big handful of the confetti and launches it at McIntyre, which gives him and Lynch time to exit the ring and escape as Generico and Luchadora get back to their feet and start hammering away at McIntyre whilst he is tangled up in all the confetti.
Corey Graves: Just look at all this mess, Becky Lynch worked so hard to put this all together!
Mauro Ranallo: Perhaps Zayn would have been better off just letting McIntyre leave when he originally intend to.
As Generico and Luchadora try to ground McIntyre, the UWF Champion refuses to be put down and uses his strength to push himself and his two attackers back, knocking the box that contains what remains of the celebratory cake onto the mat in the process. Whilst Lynch has ran away from the scene completely, Zayn watches on from the ramp as Luchadora gets back up to her feet first, followed secondly by McIntyre who kips up and clotheslines her out of the ring. She subsequently lands on her feet, but is quickly floored by Hathaway who is on hand to deliver another shot with the steel chair.
Tom Phillips: Stokely and his new best friend are looking like a pretty sound investment by McIntyre right about now.
With McIntyre now turning his attention to Generico who is trying to use the ropes to help get back to his feet, he notices that he has inadvertently planted his foot in the cake remains. Instead of feeling the need to clean it up, McIntyre waits until Generico is standing up again before charging in with a Claymore, thus transferring the majority of the squashed cake from his boot to the front of Generico’s mask. A huge pop follows from the crowd as McIntyre returns to his feet in order to stand over the fallen Generico as a pissed off looking Zayn looks on from the ramp, clearly angry at the fact that his celebration has gone to shit.
Mauro Ranallo: Now that’s what you call having your cake and eating it!
Corey Graves: McIntyre may have stolen this night from Sami, but I am more than happy to go on record by stating that lightning will not strike twice at Bad Blood.
Hathaway enters the ring and hands McIntyre his UWF Championship belt as he and Zayn engage in a stare off from afar.
As McIntyre backs away from the ropes and thrusts his championship into the air for everyone to see, Zayn continues to looks on, disappointed but still seemingly determined to change the face of the UWF as the show comes to a close.
END OF SHOW
Credits
Balor vs Reed - Crann
Escobar vs McIntyre - Fauche
Breeze/Hayter vs O'Reilly/Rude - Danny
