Revolution 4/30/24

[Danny]

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



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

Tom Phillips: It's the final show before Backlash and we've got some great matches set for tonight.

Corey Graves: Man am I excited to see a real warrior beat up a cosplayer.

Mauro Ranallo: That's a reference to the fact that in our main event, The Mighty Caleb will take on Drew McIntyre in what's sure to be a hard hitting match.

Tom Phillips: You want to talk hard hitting, Shibata is back and he goes up against the Television Champion Finn Balor

Corey Graves: Maybe he'll get hit so hard he remember where he works.

Mauro Ranallo:Plus Tommaso Ciampa takes on Seth Rollins and Jamie Hayter goes up against Robert Roode. 

Tom Phillips: But first, we got Kevin Owens looking to put down one of Randy Orton's proteges in Brock Anderson, and that match is next!






The music begins to play as Brock Anderson walks out to a chorus of boos. He is flanked by Bron Breakker and his mentor Randy Orton. Brock  is twisting his neck loosening it up as he stomps to the ring.

Tony Chimel: On his way to the ring, weighing in at 209 pounds…from Charlotte, North Carolina….He is the the enforcer of Legacy…BROCK ANDERSON!

Brock walks up the stairs and slips into the ring. He steps to the middle to be rained on with more hatred before going to his corner.



As the arena plunges into darkness, the sound of a thunderous guitar riff reverberates through the arena, signaling the imminent arrival of Kevin Owens. Strobe lights flicker in sync with the pounding beat, creating a mesmerizing visual spectacle. Owens steps out with a look of intensity etched across his face, and let's out an almost primal-like roar. His eyes firmly locked on the ring and he makes his way down.



Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, from Marieville, Quebec, Canada, Kevin Owens!

Kevin stomps up the steel steps leading the ring. He wipes his feet on the apron before quickly getting into the ring. Once again he let's out a warcry as he prepares to do what he was put on this earth to do, Fight.


VS


DING DING DING


Orton walks around the ring to where Owens is. Kevin points at him and warns him not to get involved but while this is happening, Anderson comes running up and blindsides him with a Lariat to the back of the head! He's knocked into the corner and Brock starts putting the boots to him and then chokes him out until the ref counts to 4 and pulls him off. Brock backs up but just picks Owens up, standing him straight in the air and then throws him to the mat with the Gordbuster! He makes the pin!



1 . . .



Owens kicks out right away! Brock just starts stomping him until he rolls out of the ring. Kevin stumbles around outside and ends up in front of Brekker. Bron looks at him with an intensity that would make any man back down but actually shoves him. Bron looks like he might retaliate but before he even gets a chance, Brock hits Owens with a Chop Block to the back of the knee! If that wasn't bad enough, he picks up Kevin and gives him a Back Suplex on the barricade! He throws the former International Champion back into the ring and follows him in to make the pin.



1 . . .



2 . . .



Owens kicks out!


Tom Phillips: Kevin Owens is the longest reigning World Champion in UWF history and look at how the young upstart is just taking it to him.

Mauro Ranallo: We may not like how he conducts business but that's the guidance of Randy Orton.

Corey Graves: Or it could be because Owens is a shell of himself. Everything started going downhill for him when he betrayed Sami Zayn.


Anderson picks up Owens just enough to get him in position for a Piledriver. He goes to lift him up but Kevin dead weights his body. Brock gives him a few clubs to the back before trying again but once more he's not able to get him up. Brock instead backs up and goes for a Knee Strike but Kevin catches it. He shakes his head before lifting him up into the Fisherman Suplex! Instead of going for a pin, he crawls over to the corner to try and help himself back up to his feet.


Tom Phillips: After being blindsided to start the match, Kevin Owens can now see some light at the end of the tunnel.

Corey Graves: Who's fault was it for not paying attention? He'll get no sympathy from me.


Both men get to their feet at around the same time but Brock charges at Kevin. Owens side steps him and Brock hits the corner chest first, bouncing back into the arms to KO who throws him overhead with a German Suplex! Brock folds over and rolls back up to his feet dazed. Owens follows up with a Superkick to the jaw that knocks him back into the corner. Owens begins to stomp on Brock in the corner until he falls to a seated position and keeps kicking him over and over again until the ref pulls him off. The crowd is fully behind the former International Champion as he walks to the other side of the ring. He then takes off full speed and collides with a Canonball in the corner! He drags Anderson's body away from the ropes to make the pin.



1 . . .



2 . . .



Anderson kicks out! Kevin grabs him by his hair and pulls him up to his feet. He puts his face up to his and talks some smack before whipping him into the ropes. Brock comes off and Owen pops him into the air but Brock ends up Dropkicking him! Owens rushes back to his feet but eat another Dropkick that sends him rolling out of the ring.


Mauro Ranallo: Looks like Brock has learned a thing or two from Randy.

Corey Graves: Nobody's dropkick is better than Orton's so if you were going to learn it from someone, that's the man you learn from.


Owens leans over the barricade as Brock comes out after him. Bron walks over to get in Owen's face but this time Kevin scouts it and turns just in time to Clothesline Brock when he turns around! He lifts up Anderson and gives him some payback with a Back Suplex on the apron before throwing him into the ring. KO jumps onto the apron and climbs to the top rope. Anderson isn't moving and so Kevin comes off with the Bullfrog Splash! He makes the cover!



1 . . .



2 . . .



Anderson kicks out! Owens brings him up, this time folding down between his legs. He's setting up for the Package Piledriver but Brock powers out and sends him up and over into the Back Body Drop. Owens tries to get up right away but Anderson is lying in wait. Kevin turns around and Brock lifts him up for the Spinebuster but Kevin Elbows him in the side of the head causing him to land back on his feet. Brock is dazed and it gets worse when Owens gives him a Headbutt! Anderson is stunned but gets it even worse when he's kicked in the gut and planted with the Stunner! He makes the pin!



1 . . .



2 . . .



3 . . .



But NO! Bron comes in and stomps him in the back of the head forcing the DQ


Tony Chimel: Here is your winner as a result of a disqualification, Kevin Owens!




Bron lays over him and starts laying in punches. Orton slowly walks up the steps and enters the ring with a smile on his face, proud of his young protégé for taking action. Brock comes to his sense and comes over to stomp on Owens as well. The fans are booing like crazy but Randy tells them to pick him up. They lift the former International Champion up and Randy grabs him by the beard. He says a few words that we can't really hear before he drops him with the RKO! Kevin is laid out as the trio stand over his body as the show moves on.




Cut to the image of a mirror displaying the ever-stoic expression of Katsuyori Shibata.



He examines himself in the mirror, pausing for quite a while as he locks eyes with himself. 

Shibata: It can all be so fun.

Shibata turns around, now facing the camera.

Shibata: Fighting in front of an American audience. For all the west's failures as far as giving this sport the respect it deserves, it sure is fun fighting here. I suppose I forgot that. Maybe that's what really matters. I guess I can understand now why Roode and Triple H are considered legends. Still... I don't understand why I had to share with the ring with them. We're on such different levels. I hope they're okay. I hope their egos aren't completely shattered. 

Shibata sighs.

Shibata: Two down I guess, the rest of the roster to go. Who's going to step up? Who's going to be the first... to defeat me.

Shibata shakes his head.

Shibata: Nobody from the looks of it. I don't see the ability to do that in any of you. Nonetheless, I welcome all of you. Ironic, since I don't appear to be as welcomed here. There's a PPV coming up and I've been given nobody to fight. Not much of a surprise to me unfortunately. Carter's never been a big fan of me mowing down all his shiny new toys. The shareholders don't appreciate that, do they? They're going to have to get used to it though because I'm here to stay and I won't idly sit by while others get to trade punches. 

Shibata peers down into the camera lens, letting everyone see the fire in his eyes in intimate detail. 

Shibata: This is an open challenge. I encourage anybody and everybody to answer it. May 12th, Oakland Arena... I will be in that ring. Who's got the stones to stand across from me?

Shibata exits frame and shuts a door in our faces. Focus in on the LA Dojo poster next to it. It reads...

LIVE NOW OR LIVE NEVER.






The feed cuts to black and white and shows Rick Rude, Eric Bischoff, Kyle O’Reilly, and Bayley standing backstage in the midst of a conversation. Bayley is standing next to Rude with her arm slung over his shoulder. She and Rude keep making flirtatious expressions at each other as Kyle rolls his eyes.

Bischoff: Damn it, they said they would be here by now!

KO'R: They give us five minutes for a backstage seggy. We're gonna hit a friggin commercial break before we even get started.

Rude: You know they always like to make a dramatic entrance.

Bayley: In the meantime, should we address the elephant in the room?

Everyone exchanges clueless glances - except for Kyle who, for a brief moment, gets wide-eyed in excitement about the prospect of a literal elephant in the room.  Rude looks down to his crotch and gives a sly wink towards Bayley.

Bayley: EC3’s big announcement for the match at Backlash?

The group has a collective nod in understanding. No real elephant, after all.

Bischoff: He always had a knack for making hasty decisions on everyone’s behalf.

Bayley: Hasty decisions? As I recall, Rick agreed to it.

Rude: I said that I wouldn’t be opposed to it, not that I actually agreed to it.



KO'R: If its us fighting over it, that means that no matter what, the Icey belt stays in the family, right? Its way better than you having to defend it against some grubby little scrub like.. I dunno... Tomasso Ciampa or whoever the heck. Besides, its not like EC3 was gonna give you two pay-per-view off in a row. Weren't you wondering who you'd be facing for it with Backlash coming up?

Rude: I’m sorry that I had more important things to be worrying about.

KO'R: What's more important than titles?

Eric steps into the center of the group, waving his hands.

Bischoff: Whoah, whoah, whoah…let’s all settle down a bit, alright? We need to be a unified front. The last thing that we need is to be at each other’s throats. I’m sure that’s what his whole agenda is, to break this up before it even gets started.

Kevin: Ya could always just tell him to go down there?

The camera pans around to show Kevin Nash walking up to the group as they all do a collective “Ayyyyy” with wolfpack symbols being thrown up.

Bayley: Ummm…down where?

The rest of the group chuckles. Rude pats Bayley’s shoulder and winks at her.

Scott and Kev: Down here!

The camera pans around to show Scott Hall doing the classic crotch chop. Once again, greeted wit an “Ayyy” and wolfpack symbols.

Bischoff: It’s about time you two showed up!

Kevin: Sorry, Easy E…we’ve actually been here for a bit, but we ran into the open bar.

Scott: Hey, hey, hey…tell it straight, you ran into the open bar.

Rude: Don’t tell me that vicious rumor is true, you really sobered up?

Scott: Sober as a judge!

Bayley: I’m not even sure what that means, but congrats!

KO'R: You ever see Dredd? Its this movie where cops are now judge, juries and executioners. So it takes lace in like the sci-fi future where cops can just waste anyone without a trial and not even get in any trouble for it. Pretty freaky, huh? Anyway, Judge Dredd can't drink cause he's gotta be on point twenty-four-seven. So that's where it comes from I think. Good to hear you're doing good though, Scott. As a Irish Catholic I could never, but as far as the other religions go, I think DDPY is a really decent one.

Rude: Diabetics aren’t even supposed to drink, I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean.

KO'R: Neither are dudes with heart issues, but here we are.

Kevin: WHOAH! Alright, let’s put the tape measures up and zip ‘em up, boys. What the hell did we walk into?

Bischoff: EC3 booked them in a title match for Backlash.

Scott: What kind of name is EC3? And what’s he doing booking? Thought Steve was running the show…shows?

Bayley: Nah, the Nepo Baby took back the reins a minute ago.

Rude: It has been a while since they’ve been around. EC3 is the owner, Scott. He was on sabbatical the last time you guys were here.

Bischoff: So, can we get back to business? I hate to be a hard ass, but we’ve got some serious details to flesh out. I’m assuming since Scott has no clue who EC3 is, you guys haven’t quite got the contracts settled then, right?

Kevin: Nah, the office keeps giving us the runaround.

Scott reappears on the screen, donuts in hand.

Rude: So, I guess its true that sweets help you stay off the sauce?

Scott nods then speaks with a mouthful of powdered donuts.

Scott: So, like…who’s calling the shots now since Larry is MIA?

Bischoff: Well, did Larry ever really call the shots?

KO'R: I think when you're the UWF slash Triple Champ its kinda implied. And Larry was only champ for so long cause I was helping him out so much soooooo....

Kevin: Well, Rick’s the only one with the gold…I say that makes him de facto leader, right?

KO'R: Yeah, sure. Like... at least until Backlash maybe.

Bayley: Maybe we take more of a... oh... I dunno... a collective approach to the leadership structure this time around?

Rude: It appears that you’ve bruised some egos, Big Kev…and in record time! I say we shelf this conversation for a later time.

KO'R: Yeah... sure...

There's a real awkward silence in the room as The Ravishing One and The Diabetic Dragon exchange weary glances. Hall polishes off that donut quick so he can alleviate the tension some.

Scott: Nevermind who the boss is - who's doing the grunt work now? My memory's a little hazy about the glory days, but as far as I remember, we always needed some jabronie hanger-ons around to carry the luggage. Well now that Kyle here's stepped up his game and the beach boys left the territory, maybe its time to fill out the ranks a bit, eh chico? A little bitta fresh meat in the mix might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.

Kevin: If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times - there can never be too many people in the nWo.

Bischoff: Amen to that.

Rude: Great point Scott. I -

KO'R: Dudes, I'm waaaaaaaay ahead of you. I wanted it to be a surprise for later on but since you brought it up, welp, lets just say I've been doing some serious scouting. You go back to when were running this show, and it was like... every pay-per-view when our backs were against the wall... BOOM! Some new guy would pop outta nowhere, beefing up the numbers! Maybe we don't have to worry about pulling a fast one at Backlash, but I figured what the heck, why not start interview some newbs?

Bayley: Great initiative.

Rude: More like audacity, and we'll just wait and see how great it is.

KO'R: Oh, don't you worry about it. You're gonna love him. Or it. I don't even know if this guy's human.

Kevin: Beg your pardon?

KO'R: He's even got the colours right. Black and white. Just like we like.

Scott: Its not Sting, is it?

KO'R: Pffft. No. That dudes waaaaaaay too old. Nah, my guy's fresh as fresh gets. Just let me uh... just let me cue him up here... hold on just a sec...

There's some twiddling of thumbs and staring at shoes as Kyle pulls out his phone to text his man to give him the okay. More time passes. Kyle looks over his shoulder. Then down at his phone again. Over the shoulder. Phone again. Then OUTTA NOWHERE, HE ARRIVES~!



Pentagon: CERO MIEDO!

Everyone jumps back a little cause this dude's whole vibe is A LOT.

KO'R: Guys, meat Pentagon. Junior. Or Penta El Zero Miedo. Or Penta. I don't really know what we call him. He doesn't speak any English so its hard to ask. But he's fierce and he's nasty and he looks like a demon, so how do you top that?

The group looks thoroughly unconvinced. Penta tilts his head to one side like a  weirdo and licks his boney lips. Bayley's the first to say hi.

Bayley: Nice to meet ya, uh... Penta... gon...

She extends a hand. He looks at for a sec then responds with his trademark gang sign.

Pentagon: CERO... MIEDO....

Rude: I don't know about this one, Kyle...

Bischoff: Historically, luchadors have been pretty lucrative for us. He might move some shirts, if nothing else.

Scott: You know I speak a little Cuban. Let me take a crack at him.

Hall steps towards Pentagon and places a hand against his chest. He clears his throat as he brushes off his second language.



Scott: Hola. Mi nombre... es... El Chico Malo... ¿sabes... cómo decir "Eso no me funciona hermano" en inglés?

Pentagon nods slowly, then, noting the powdered dust on Scott's hand, grabs his wrist and pulls that hand it so he can sniff a rail off it. He pulls back, disgusted, when he realizes that that coke has been stepped on so many times it hardly tastes like the real deal at all any more.

Kevin: Well that's a red flag if I've ever seen one.

Scott: You're telling me.

Eric places a hand around Penta's shoulder as the luchador brushes at his nose, trying to get rid of the afterburn. Bischoff guides him towards the door, speaking slowly and loudly to smash through the language barrier.

Bischoff: THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME... WE WILL BE IN TOUCH... OUR PEOPLE... WILL CALL... YOUR PEOPLE...

He mimics making a phone call as he nudges him out the door, making sure to close and lock it behind him.

KO'R: Pretty cool, huh?

Rude: Yeah. Yeah we'll definitely keep him mind. Maybe let's discuss it among ourselves before we bring anyone in next time though, alright?

Bayley: So anyway, about Backlash...

Bischoff: Oh! Would you look at the time! We actually have a thing - Rick and I - can we rain check this?

Bayley: Right. I just thought it was important to -

Rick smooches The "Good Guy" on the cheek, cutting her off.

Rude: Later babe, later. We gotta roll out, but Kyle, pal. Looking forward to Backlash. I know its been a while since you got a crack at some gold.

Rude extends his hand to shake. Kyle accepts.

KO'R: Yeah...

There's another awkward silence as the handshake lasts a little longer than normal. They don't break it off till Bischoff clears his throat. Rude and Easy E head out, and

Scott: Hey, you think they got any more donuts in catering?

Kevin: I dunno, but I'll come check if we can stop by that bar on the way over.

Hall and Nash leave as well, so that its just Kyle and Bayley hanging back. Once they're gone, Kyle holds up the handshake hand, flexing it into a fist.

Bayley: Everything alright there, Kyle?

KO'R: Huh... oh... oh yeah. Yeah. Everything's just be just.... friggin... peachy.

On that aggressive note, the feed cuts out and Revolution continues elsewhere!




We go backstage as the camera is on Shinsuke Nakamuara, he is in a jovial mood as he speaks in his native tongue and Subtitles translate his words as he seems to be speaking down and not towards the camera.



Shinsuke Nakamura: The people I love to choose, that really get me jazzed, never see it coming. Never. They're in some happy place where they're sure nothing can get them. My touch is the furthest thing from their mind. Maybe they're thinking about what to have for dinner. Just like you were, right before you walked into the room and heard your boss in pain a couple weeks ago.

Nakamura smirks and leans down, as the camera pans out slowly showing Damien Priest with his eyes bandaged sitting in a chair. He's looking angry but is unable to do anything as he doesn't even know how he ended up in this room, and to compound that he doesn't understand anything that is being spoken to him only that it's Shinsukes voice dancing around in the darkness he's in.

Oh Damien my friend, you look so nervous and frustrated. Come now, put a a great big Smile on! You're never fully dressed without one don't you know, You may see...HA...Get it? See?

Nakamura slaps Priest on the back and laughs as Damien turns his head towards the smack and reaches out just to palm the air as Nakamura keeps walking around him in swaying fluid motions as he speaks.

Point is Damien...Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what's going on Underneath. You see a Smile is a valuable tool...It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way...You're the one in control. That is why every week, I have held control over an entire Enterprise. Don't you find it funny? How almost everybody on the roster today has a friend, a group, a team, a manager...No one wants to do things on their own anymore. But I, I am the King of Strong Style. I am all alone in this world because there is no one on my plane, and still I can disrupt all of you so simply. All with a controlling and brilliant, Smile on my face.

Shinsuke is leaning in close to Priest whose breathing is growing as he seems to be building up in rage and ready to blindly attack, before this build up can reach it's boiling point however. Shinsuke suddenly steps back and brings a swinging kick across his chest with a loud smack, the kick sending Priest' chair backwards as falls to the floor and rolls backwards. Shinsuke casually walks after him as he's disoriented from the kick and being blind, crawling away unknowingly crawling out of the room and Shinsuke continues speaking and the subtitles remain on the bottom of the screen.

Yes! Don't you understand? Pain leads to Art...and Art

Shinsuke does a stomping kick to the side of Priest head as the camera keeps up with them as the walk down the hallway.

Leads to the truth.

Mauro Ranallo: I know we usually let these backstage segments play out but...can we get some help back there?

As Priest is stumbles to his feet and blindly walks around the backstage area, swinging his fist to try and catch the laughing Nakamura. Shinsuke just taps him with mocking kicks to the body and legs to make him keep walking.

Tom Phillips: This is getting uncomfortable now...

Priest is kicked on the back and he stumbles towards a railing, Shinsuke hits him with a solid roundhouse to the side of the head that drops him to his knees, the camera man adjusting the shot to show that he's right at the top of a stairwell.

Corey Graves: Oh...no...

Mauro Ranallo: Hey come on, get some help back there now!

Shinsuke takes a couple steps back and puts his hands on his mouth as if he's savoring this as his leg starts to shake uncontrollably.

Tom Phillips: He's going to Kinshasa him down the stairs! We Need help!

Priest is blindly looking around on his knees, unable to tell where he is as Shinsuke suddenly rushes forward towards him. At the very last second, Swerve jumps from off screen tackling Shinsuke against the wall and hitting him with right hands.

Mauro Ranallo: Oh thank God, Swerve found them just in time.

Shinsuke and Swerve are trading blows as Prince Nana who was trailing behind Swerve finally makes it to the scene and helps Priest to move away from the stairwell. As Swerve is letting all his rage out with clubbing blows, this blind rage allows Shinsuke to cover up until he finds an opening and shoots his hands crossed towards his throat. Instantly Swerve stops and grabs at his throat coughing loudly as he backs up getting the wind knocked out of him, Shinsuke stands up straight and brushes his hair back with a smile. Nana quickly moves in front of him and puts his hands up to keep him back, Nakamura just smiles and tilts his head to one side before he smacks both his hands around Nanas head boxing his ears. Prince Nana lets out a yelp and holds his ears in pain and drops to his knees, Shinsuke turns to the camera and takes a bow towards the viewing audience. Presenting his sadistic version of art: As Nana is holding his ears in pain, Damien is still blindly reaching out and Swerve is holding his throat and coughing. Nakamura speaks into the camera in English carefully letting every word escape his mouth correctly as he catches his breath.

Shinsuke Nakamura: Hear no Evil. See No Evil, Speaks no Evil.

Shinsuke shakes his head side to side with a smile on his face before he moves his two fingers up to his throat, he turns right as Swerve throws a superkick at him causing him to spit his red mist straight up into the air. Swerve then tackles him down and starts pounding down into him with right hands ignoring the pain in his throat.

Swerve: You wanna make me into a joke!? Huh? I'll show you who's laughing now!

Swerve grabs Shinsuke by the hair dragging him towards the railing, sending him back first against it, he begins to strike him with right hands that make him lean back against the railing, looking vicious with every shot as every punch causes red mist dribbling from his mouth to spew out.

Tom Phillips: I think Swerves snapped, he's going to do something he's going to regret!
Corey Graves: At this point I don't think he'll regret anything he does to Nakamura.

Swerve takes a step back and looks at Shinsuke, measuring him up seemingly to send him over the railing. Shinsuke is holding himself up by it, spitting a glob of red down to the floor and then getting a smile on his face as he looks at Swerve and moves his hands up.

Shinsuke Nakamura: Cooome ooooooon!

Shinsuke, battered and bloody, only seems amused by this which makes Swerves angry look only grow. He's ready to strike the killing blow but before he can even try, finally security and producers reach the scene and get between them.

Corey Graves: Great response time guys, where have they been.
Tom Phillips: There's no telling where Shinsuke had Priest hidden away, it's lucky Swerve rushed to the scene when he did.

Swerve is still trying to get past them shoving some of them down as they struggle to hold him back. Nana has recovered from his shot and is guiding Priest away as Shinsuke is just leaning against the railing with a red smile on his face wiggling his fingers towards Swerve, saying bye bye as we move on with Revolution.






Back from a quick break and we open up with Tony Chimel stood in the ring with the ring music for one of the competitors playing in the background.

Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Already in the ring, weighing 235lbs, Robert Roode!

A focussed looking Roode has eyes only for the entrance ramp at this time as he awaits the arrival of his opponent for the evening.



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 alongside Rhea Ripley and they are met with cheering and jeering from the crowd. Jamie stops on the stage, bends down, and then quickly leans backward while raising her arms. At the same time, Rhea stomps on the stage. This triggers the pyro, which shoots up through the stage. The camera zooms in on the two as the start sauntering down the entrance while talking shit to their opponents.

Tony Chimel: "And his opponent, accompanied by Rhea Ripley... From Southampton, England... JAMIE HAYTER!!!"

Jamie and Rhea make it to ringside and stop. They eye the ring and Roode before climbing up onto the apron. They enters the ring and look to the crowd. Jamie cups her hand around her ear, similarly to Hulk Hogan, and the cheers only intensify. Her theme slowly fades out.

VS


IT’S BELL O’CLOCK!


The action gets underway with Hayter appearing to try and initiate a grapple sequence, but Roode isn’t having any of it and hits back with a couple of right hooks that send the Southampton native into the ropes. An irish whip attempt follows from Roode, which Hayter is able to turn around so The Glorious One ends up hitting off the opposite ropes, but an attempt at a follow up clothesline fails as Roode ducks underneath and hits back off the original ropes before returning to knock Hayter down with a shoulder kick tackle. Hayter does manage to immediately get back up, but no sooner is she up than immediately back down again as Roode hits a clothesline of his own to full effect. The momentum ball appears to be in Roode’s court as he picks his opponent up this time and plants her right back down again with a twisting neckbreaker.


Tom Phillips: After coming up short last week, it’s clear that Robert Roode is out to make a real impression here tonight.

Corey Graves: It was a credible effort on his part last week, but he’s got a very different challenge tonight in the form of Jamie Hayter.

Mauro Ranallo: A competitor who of course is looking to make amends in her own right after a hard fought battle with Kyle O’Reilly a couple weeks ago.


One might be forgiven for thinking that Roode had other pressing arrangements this evening as he hauls Hayter up and looks to try and end things with the Glorious DDT, but the former Prime Time Medal holder has enough savvy to break free and with impressive strength hauls Roode up over her shoulders into a fireman’s carry. There’s no time to pose for pictures though as Hayter throws Roode down to the mat and makes a cover…


ON…


KICKOUT!


No sooner does the ref’s hand slap the mat for one than Roode keeps things rolling. Realizing she was chancing things a little, Hayter pulls Roode up and yanks him over to the corner before driving his face and then his back into the turnbuckle pad. Believing The Glorious One to be dazed, Hayter runs off the ropes in the hopes of connecting with a quick strike, but Roode remains alert and kicks his legs up in order to greet Hayter with two boots to the face. Hayter’s only response is to check her jaw and make sure all her teeth are still in tact, but in doing so doesn’t spot Roode coming back for a follow up attack. There’s no way out it seems as Roode picks Hayter up and drops her down with a spinebuster. The impact sends vibrations through the ropes and Roode’s next intentions are crystal clear as he pulls Hayter back up and positions her under his curved arm before lifting her into the air and driving her face first into the mat. With the Glorious DDT emphatically executed, Roode rolls Hayter over and makes the pin…


ONE…


TWO…


THREE!!!


HERE IS YOUR WINNER, ROBERT ROODE!



As the music begins to play, Roode rises back up to his feet in order for the referee to raise his hand in victory.


Mauro Ranallo: Somewhat surprisingly short and sweet, but still impressive nonetheless from the glorious Robert Roode.

Tom Phillips: I agree Mauro, a great night for Roode, but a tough loss for Hayter.

Corey Graves: It’s all about making the most of your moment around here, and The Glorious One did exactly that.


With the referee and Ripley now checking on Hayter, Roode goes to the corner turnbuckle and climbs to the top rope in order to pose and milk his first victory since returning to the UWF.




The scene opens with Triple H walking backstage in the hallway as he gets hit in the back with a steel chair by Seth Rollins and Seth Rollins keeps hitting Triple H with the chair until he is busted open. Then Seth Rollins drops the chair and he turns Triple H around to face him as he begins punching him. Then he stops as three figures in hoodies come out of nowhere and they pick him up. One holds him while the second starts hitting him with punches before slamming him into the wall and they stop. Hunter falls onto the ground as a third figure grabs Triple H and hits him with a huge DDT into the ground before Seth Rollins walks over to Triple H. He leans down and he stares at Triple H before he turns to look at the camera. He begins to smirk and he begins to speak.


Seth Rollins: Triple H, I see you have returned back to UWF again. I guess you didn't learn your lesson the first time. I guess I have to make sure you never step foot here in UWF ever again. Now this time, I can promise nobody in UWF will ever see your face again Hunter. Enjoy your retirement again! Now as for you Ciampa. You have witnessed what happens when you cross with the Messiah. Do you see what I have done to Triple H. That is what happens when you don't believe in the Messiah. You called yourself the Don of UWF. I can promise you after tonight that I am going to remind you why you have always struggled on getting back to your old glory day of winning the UWF Championship. I will show you why you need my help. After all, you are so corrupted with anger and sadness that have changed you alot. You were one of the most dangerous and talented wrestlers here in UWF back in the day. Now that you have returned, you are no longer the same man you were before.


You have changed and you have turned into one of the most embarrassing things and you became a former shell of yourself. I honestly am sad to see Ciampa. I already know you are way better than that. So that is why. Tonight, not only would I introduce you to my ways of wisdom. I will gladly help you and change you for the better. I will help you return to your winning ways by showing you the wisdom of the holy god and get rid of the sins that have messed your mind. I will help destroy the devil that has made you believe you are the Don of UWF and you will sacrifice yourself tonight to your true self. After tonight, not only would I defeat you and pin you for the three count. You will then join me as a servant of the Holy God himself and help me spread the words of wisdom here in UWF. I will then show the world and everyone that nobody is greater than God himself. Not even the Don of UWF can destroy the holy bible of God. The devils that have corrupted all your mind and especially Ciampa will be gone tonight. All your sins would be redeemed tonight. When the Revolution ends tonight, you all would have no choice but to follow and worship the man who would lead the whole world into greatness. His name is none other than the savior of UWF himself........The Messiah Seth Rollins.



The scene fades and ends with Seth Rollins laughing in the background while Triple H is laying out in a pool of his own blood.




The cameras open up in a somewhat darkened room with a light hovering over a wooden table as the main focus. A bit of shuffling can be heard and in steps the figure of Stokely Hathaway who cautiously takes a seat. The business associate of Drew McIntyre seems to be a tad on edge as he tries to get comfortable. After taking a deep breath, the Harlem native begins conversing, although it's not known at this point whether it's directly with someone or something else or just him airing his views.



Stokely Hathaway: First of all, let me say that I appreciate you being open this offer of a discussion. Sure, it's no great secret that we don't see eye to eye and probably never will, but I hope that by listening to what I have to say here, you'll perhaps gain a bit more appreciation for the difficult position that I currently find myself in at present.

With that, the camera pans out and reveals that Stokely is talking to the UWF Champion, LA Knight! The crowd pops for the "Million Dollar Champion" as Knight looks unimpressed.



LA Knight: 'Ya have to forgive L...A....Knight for being skeptical of meeting with 'ya. The Champ is a little paranoid cause it seems like every time L...A....Knight turns his back, 'ya boy Drew McIntyre comes from out of nowhere like the coward he has proven himself to be. 

Stokely Hathaway: Look, I know that my word means squat to you considering that I've gone back on it before, and on the face of it, the request to meet in a dark room at an undisclosed location has obvious booby trap written all over it, but I swear on my mother's life that I'm the only one here. Maybe a little hard to believe considering that Drew's had Braun watching my damn near every move for several months now, but I promise that it's the truth. I'd have thought the sight of me walking in here like a nervous wreck would be all the proof you'd need of that.

LA Knight: Listen here Hathaway, 'ya can flap 'ya gums all 'ya want. L...A....Knight knows that anytime that 'ya running 'ya mouth, all that's coming out is a load of manure. But since 'ya brought up that big DUMMY Strowman, let L..A....Knight ask 'ya a question that's been on his mind for a while now. 'Ya say Strowman was brought in to protect 'ya, well L...A....Knight needs to know, what's the point of protecting as useless as 'ya? Hell, 'ya have done more harm than good as of late and Strowman, well Strowman is about as worthless as that gas station cologne that 'ya got on...

Stokely Hathaway: If you're done insulting me, can we start talking shop, please?..

LA Knight: The Champ really doesn't know what there is to discuss but if 'ya want to talk, L...A....Knight will humor 'ya. 

Stokely Hathaway: The reason I asked to meet with you here instead of in the arena is because I needed to speak to you in an environment that was distraction and interruption free. You see, every time we've tried to converse in the past, it's either been in the presence of an annoying crowd that's insisted on giving it's two cents, or with the other guys we roll with who would rather spend the time fighting instead of talking. Now speaking just for myself, I haven't found that to be in any way productive, and s...

LA Knight: Let L...A....Knight stop 'ya right there. L...A....Knight wants to converse with 'ya just about as much as L...A....Knight wants to watch 'ya boys wrestle. So how 'bout 'ya just stop dancing around the point and tell L...A....Knight why he's here. 

Stokely Hathaway: I need you to call off the Hell in a Cell stipulation for this rematch between you and Drew...

No sooner has the plea left Hathaway's mouth than Knight has responded by laughing his ass off at such a request.

Stokely Hathaway: Please, hear me out!.. Many moons ago I would have had no issue with the two of you guys stepping inside that satanic structure and going at it hell for leather, but circumstances have changed in recent times, and I am now firmly of the belief that Drew McIntyre entering into an environment like that bodes very badly for both of us.

The "both of us" comment seems to intrigue Knight somewhat and he acknowledges this with the raise of an eyebrow.

Stokely Hathaway: I'm not sure you realize just how far you've managed to push Drew beyond the point of reason since the two of you had that first post-Rumble interaction in February. I can't get through to him any more about anything, and the way that he's been acting of late genuinely scares me. So there's two scenarios here, the first is you somehow survive Drew's onslaught, keep the title, and then I have to face the potentially fatal fallout from that. The second, Drew reclaims the title and in doing so, completely obliterates you inside that cell, ends your career, your aspirations, and quite possibly your life to boot. Now you might ask, why would I be in any way bothered by the second scenario? Well let's just say that after my experience being held captive by that sicko Vincent this past winter, I realize that there's a time to speak up when someone's at real risk of winding up dead or permanently crippled. I loathe you, as well you know, but at the same time I'm not in favor of you winding up in a worse position than the one I found myself in at the start of the year. So I am pleading, please, for both our sakes, call off the cell, make it a regular match, and help preserve careers in this business!

LA Knight: 'Ya worried for ol' L...A....Knight's life? Well Stokely, that's so sweet. The Champ didn't know 'ya cared. Let it be known if the roles were reversed, L...A....Knight would take great pleasure in watching 'ya scrawny ass get ripped limb from limb. Let's make things perfectly clear. L...A....Knight wants this fight. Drew McIntyre wants this fight. Your client not being able to accept defeat and having an existential crisis is none of L..A....Knight's concern. Hell, what happens to 'ya after L...A....Knight retains the title at Baclash is none of L....A....Knight's concern. Maybe the best thing for Drew McIntyre and maybe the best thing for UWF as a whole is if Stokely Hathaway isn't around anymore. In case 'ya haven't noticed, L...A....Knight is talking in definites. There's no "If" I walk out of Hell in A Cell still the Million Dollar Champion. There's only "When" and "How bad will Drew McIntyre be hurt?" So while L...A....Knight enjoyed this little chat, the match stands. Let L...A....Knight put it a different way. Is the Hell in A Cell Match off? NAH NAH! Tell 'ya boy I'll see him in Hell!

And with that, Knight gets up out the chair and storms off. You hear the door slam and the camera pans in on a worried and exasperated Stokely. 

Stokely Hathaway: God damnit... fu..

Before the TV mature word can fully make it's way out of Stokely's mouth, the camera sharply transitions back to the arena.



We go backstage where we see The Mighty Caleb pacing back and forth, he is muttering some sort of chant under his breath, possibly in order to hype himself up for tonights match against the former champion in Drew McIntyre. Caleb looks up and faces the camera.



The Mighty Caleb: Excuse The Mighty Caleb, he has stepped outside in order to feel the sun's glow and the cold embrace of the wind... for I have not slept well these past weeks. Truth be told The Mighty Caleb has been plagued by horrid terrors - images of a great collapse of mankind with a madman stoking the flames of the apocalypse. I despair for I do not see the mighty clash at the end of the world known as Ragnarök... instead, I see only chaos, misery, disorder and mindless violence. I see the world moulded to the vision of one man... Vincent. The dark cloud of Vincent and his Collapse has hung around The Mighty Caleb like the stench of death ever since I chose to stand in favour of valour, of honour, of the warrior's code when I came to the defence of the defenceless and now I fear I may not be rid of this cloud, this stench, these visions unless it is forcibly removed...

Caleb nods his head, looking to the ground before raising his head high to the clouds.

I have sought counsel with the Gods... I sought the guidance of the elders and I have came to the conclusion that there can only be one way to rid this realm of the plague known as Vincent and that is to defeat him and cast him into whichever shadow-realm he emerged from. Our battle date is set Vincent... but I fear that a simple wrestling match will not be suffice and as much as I fear giving into your desire for chaos and violence... I know what must be done. So it is now that I make my challenge to you Vincent, the once Horror King... you have plagued me for these past weeks so I must ask that you indulge me this one time and accept my challenge to a match with weapons, a match with no rope breaks, no count outs... no rules, no escape, no more mind games, no more tricks... at Backlash...I challenge you Vincent... to a Viking Rules Match...

Caleb grinds his teeth, knowing the seriousness of the situation - knowing the destructive nature of the Viking Rules Match.

I have lain down my gauntlet to you Vincent... and I implore you to watch tonight as I do battle with a man you have great history with... a man you could not conquer. I want you to watch carefully as I show you what lies in store for you at Backlash... tonight I will conquer the once thought unconquerable... I will show the world that the might of a Scottish Psychopath is nothing compared to the might of The Mighty Caleb... SKAL!, SKAL!, SKAL!








The scene opens showing the crowd and then the lights turn off as a bright light turns on. It shows everyone in the crowd and then it shows the top of the entrance ramp. It twinkles and then it turns to blue. The arena lights are turned off and everything turns into darkness. You hear some music blasting loud as huge poles begin to rise up on each of the entrance ramps and then flames go off out of the poles. The fire burns steady as the bright light fixes on a dark figure waiting in the background and he comes out walking to the light. The former UWF Champion Seth Rollins has a straight face as he continues to walk down the entrance ramp and he stops in the middle of the entrance ramp. He raised both of his hands as he heard boos from the crowd and the fire pyros went off. Seth turns to the right and he walks up the steel steps as he walks along the ropes. He stops in the middle as he climbs through the ring ropes and he gets into the ring. He walks to the turnbuckle and he climbs up as he raises both of his hands. He smiles as he climbs down from the turnbuckle and he turns around to look at the entrance ramp. He gives a angry stare as he awaits for his opponent to arrive.



Tony Chimel: Hailing from Buffalo, Iowa & weighing in at 220 lbs, he is the former 2022 ROYAL RUMBLE WINNER & UWF CHAMPION Messiah SETH ROLLLLLLLLLLINNNNSS!!!!!!!



As Conquer them All  blasts over the speakers Ciampa walks out onto stage, flanked by Oba Femi and steel chair in hand. He chats with Oba a bit as they make their way down to the ramp

Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring  from Boston, Massachusetts weighing in tonight at 201lbs, accompanied by Oba Femi he is  The "Don of UWF" Tommaso Ciampa.

Making his march down to the ring, Ciampa and Oba reach the ring steps and Oba opens the ropes up for Ciampa and Ciampa gets in, climbing to the second turnbuckle in the corner

On the second turnbuckle, Ciampa screams out "THIS IS MY MOMENT" before hopping off and getting into the corner completely, sitting down as he waits for his opponent, Oba prowling on the outside

 VS 

DING DING DING!

Both men circle each other as the crowd eagerly looks on. There's not much love for either man here tonight but there's an anticipation to see them go at it. Rollins makes the first move, cautiously reaching a hand out to force a lock-up. Ciampa appears to oblige, reaching his hand out too... before kneeing Rollins in the gut. Rollins keels over and Ciampa applies a front headlock, wrenching his arms against Rollins' cranum to create as much pressure as possible. Seth sends his weight backwards, forcing the pair to bounce into the ropes. Ciampa pushes him forward and Rollins bounces off the other side. Ciampa looks to catch him with a lariat but Rollins ducks, popping up behind him and digging his nails into Ciampa's back, raking it.

Ranallo: It seems they're trying to out-bad-guy each other.

Graves: That's not a word.

Phillips: I don't know if there's anybody that can out-bad-guy Ciampa.

Well Rollins is going to give it his best shot. The ref reprimands him as Ciampa turns around. Rollins stomps on his foot and pops him with a right hand that stuns him, sending him backwards. Rollins outstretches his arms as if he were the holy spirit himself before charging forward toward Ciampa, who's leaning on the ropes. Rollins looks to hit a running elbow but Ciampa lowers his shoulders to send Rollins up and over the ropes. Rollins lands on the apron and doesn't appear to be phased. Before he can respond with anything though, Ciampa outstretches his arm to absolutely nail Rollins with a lariat that sends him flying towards the floor on the outside. That was loud even up in the nosebleeds. The referee starts his count as Ciampa stalks his prey from above.

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

Rollins stirs, clutching his neck as he grovels to his feet.

FOUR...

That's good news to Ciampa, who was waiting for this moment. He charges forward and flies through the ropes for a nasty-looking tope suicida... but no! Rollins dodges, sidestepping and sending Ciampa crashing into the barricade. He collides with a thud and crumples to the ground. Rollins is quick to capitalize. He grabs Ciampa by the waist as the referee restarts his count.

Phillips: They never said psychopaths were smart.

Graves: ...uh yes they do.

Phillips: No they don't.

Graves: Pretty sure they do.

ONE...

Rollins pushes all his weight backwards with Ciampa in tow, colliding toward the ground with a devastating German Suplex. Rollins maintains control of the waist. He rolls over and up to his feet with Ciampa still in his clutches, driving their force backwards for another German! He's not stopping. He rolls through yet again...

Ranallo: Peligro! Peligro!

TWO...

...and delivers the nastiest German of the whole sequence, a nice little cherry on top. Rollins jaws at Ciampa before grabbing him by the trunks and sliding him into the ring. He hops up onto the apron while still clutching at his neck before climbing up to the top rope. He outstretches his arms and leaps off, coming down with a devastating frog spla-NO! Ciampa gets the knees up! He grabs hold of Rollins and shifts back for a small cradle pin!

ONE!

TWO!

Graves: He's got him!

Phillips: He's gonna steal it!

THRE- NO!

Rollins kicks out and they're both quick to their feet, still clutching at their respective blows. Rollins looks to meet Ciampa with a superkick... but Ciampa catches it. He pulls Rollins in and grabs ahold of his arm, forcing him back toward the mat with a Fujiwara Armbar. Rollins cries out... and it gets worse too. Ciampa flips over Rollins' body with the arm still wrenched back, completing the Bridging Fujiwara Armbar. The messiah has got nowhere to go... and it looks like he's going to tap...

Ranallo: Peligroooooooo!

...before he starts kicking his legs backwards. He wildly kicks at Ciampa's head, hoping to land a shot... and he does! Nasty shot right to Ciampa's jaw. He relents the hold, clutching his jaw as he's up to a knee... Rollins is up to his feet though, and nails Ciampa with a Superkick that sends him back down. Rollins careens back towards the corner. He's measuring... planning... prophesizing the end. He charges forward with a roar, looking to stomp Ciampa into oblivion. Rollins has his foot on Ciampa's cranium now... but can't finish it! Ciampa uses Rollins' momentum to propel him upwards just as Randy Orton did. Rollins is sent upwards and when he comes downwards, he's met with a knee thrusted right up into his jaw. Ciampa doesn't let up for a second. He wraps a slumped Rollins' arms behind his back and lifts him upwards, hitting him with an earth-shattering Fairy-Tale ending. Cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!



YOUR WINNER... TOMASSO CIAMPA!!!

Ranallo: What a physical match!

Phillips: Yeah, rollins sure threw some bombs...

Ciampa: But Ciampa threw a nuke! That knee was vicious!




Cut to a packed Korakuen Hall.



Zoom through the lively crowd all the way to the ringside seats to find Katsuyori Shibata and Kazunari Murakami eagerly looking on toward the men entering the ring. Shibata holds Shiozaki's beloved Bijon Frisé in his lap. Murakami, sporting a fresh black eye, looks up at the screen posted below the rafters. It displays a tournament bracket, titled "Shoot Style Grand Prix."



He glances back toward the ring where Shiozaki and Bob MF Sapp stand across from each other, ready to crown a victor to this tournament. Murakami turns to Shibata, speaking in subtitled Japanese.

Murakami: Sapp's taking it. 

Shibata: What made you think that?

Shibata glances at Murakami's bruised eye, a jab at him.

Murakami: C'mon he's built like a goddamn ox. Hell was I supposed to do?

Shibata: Adapt.

Focus back on Shiozaki in the ring, who appears to be doing just that. His footwork is measured and it keeps the much larger Sapp at a distance. Sapp, frustrated he can't get in for an attack on Go, shoots for a takedown. Shiozaki lurches back, easily stuffing it. He sidesteps and connects with a nasty knee to Sapp's big ol cranium to land the first strike of the contest. Go immediately backs up to avoid Sapp's rage. Big ol Bob pops to his feet and bull rushes Shiozaki, who immediately backs into the ropes, latching onto them. Sapp is forced to back off as a voice comes over the arena.

Ring Announcer: Rope break! 14 points.

He's got 15 points to work with. One subtracted for every rope break and one for every knockdown. Go isn't afraid to use them and hovers his hand near the ropes as he comes forward to engage Sapp, warning him not to come too close or he's not gonna get any piece of him. Sapp says screw it and bullrushes forward yet again anyways. Before Shiozaki can get a hand on the ropes he's hit with a right hand that rocks his world. 

Ring Announcer: Knockdown! 13 Points.

Murakami: What did I tell you?

Shibata: You doubt him?

Murakami: Yeah, against this guy...

The referee starts a 10 count for Shiozaki to get back to his feet but it's not necessary as he quickly rises. Sapp comes forward with a smile and a still shaken Shiozaki holds his fist out. Sapp pays it no mind and comes forward with another barrage of punches but Shiozaki is able to dodge and catch hold of Sapp's arm. Pulling it into his body and twisting himself into the air, he uses Sapp's momentum to come down with a flying triangle choke. Murakami's eyebrows narrow as he looks on while Shibata smirks. Sapp is in trouble. He reaches out for a rope but nothing is there. Sapp cries out. He's hurting bad. He pounds his fists into the mat and slowly but surely makes his way to his knees. He wraps his free hand around Shiozaki's back and lifts him up as Sapp bursts to his feet. Shiozaki can see the whole crowd from all the way up here. It's almost a beautiful sight to him. It would be even better if he weren't slammed head first into the canvas for a devastating powerbomb. Sapp roars as he drops Shiozaki.

Ring Announcer: Knockdown! 12 points.

Murakami nods his head as Shibata grimaces. Brutal. The referee starts a 10 count as Shiozaki remains dazed on the mat. 1...2...3...4...5...

Shiozaki begins to stir, shaking his head. 6...7...

He makes his way to a knee, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and love of the game. 8...9...

He shoots up. He can't go down like that. He refuses to go down like that. He's clearly still dazed but the referee doesn't dare to stop the CTE fest between these two fighters. Sapp charges forward and outstretches his arm, looking to take Shiozaki's head clean off. He looks helpless to stop it. The collision is mere milliseconds away before Shiozaki abruptly spins around, dodging and outstretching his own arm to absolutely floor Sapp with a monstrous lariat that echoes all through Korakuen. The crowd is on fire for the display. Shiozaki's Bijon Frisce barks out in approval too, which Murakami's old ears do not appreciate.

Murakami: Shut up.

Shiozaki looks about ready to collapse but he uses his last ounce of adrenaline to guide Sapp to his feet. He clutches Sapp's wrist through Sapp's own legs and wraps his hand around Sapp's giant neck. He tries to then scoop him up but Sapp isn't budging. Another try... Nada. Shiozaki gives it one last go, putting every single thing he's got into it. Sapp soars up into the air. His legs shoot up into the sky and he comes back down when Shiozaki plants him firmly on his head. Limit Break. Sapp crumples. He's out. The bell rings while the crowd showers the display in applause and the graphic on the screen changes, flashing in celebration with three new words.

WINNER: GO SHIOZAKI!

Shibata smiles and glances over at Murakami, who doesn't seem too happy with the result. Murakami's scowl radiates toward Shiozaki, which Shibata takes note of. Go immediately goes to check on Sapp though, who is barely coming to. Sapp looks at Go like he's never seen him before but Go seems to offer some kind words. He sticks out his hands and Sapp, likely concussed, shakes it. That action deepens Murakami's scowl. 

Shibata: Jealousy?... or self-pity?

Murakami laughs and shakes his head, his eyes not wavering from Shiozaki. Go's given a hefty looking trophy before he glances over at Shibata & Murakami, looking for his Bijon Frisce. 

Murakami: Neither.

Shibata: Then what is it?

Murakami: Rage.

The show heads elsewhere.




The scene opens up on Vincent standing in an area of the backstage as he looks ahead into the camera.

Vincent: Mighty Caleb. You don’t realize what it is you’ve just done. You’ve arranged your own funeral and now I just have to put you down. I know you think this is your match to win but come on, no rules is where yours truly thrives better than anyone. At Backlash, I’m going to show you that might is no match for fright. Consider your challenge accepted.




We cut backstage to the Legacy locker room and all three men look very happy with themselves after what went down in the match. Orton sees the camera man and brings him closer and you can see the anger and the fire in Orton’s eyes as he stares into the camera.




Randy Orton: Do you get it now Kevin? Do you understand yet what you’ve brought on yourself? You aren’t still laughing are you? Of course not, because you can’t laugh with a broken jaw, unconscious and bleeding. The fun and games are over Kevin. I hope when they are done slapping you double chins awake that the medical staff help you understand the danger you are in.


Orton looks side to side at both of the blood thirsty men to his left and right.

Randy Orton: At Backlash Kevin you are going to get more of the same. You are going to feel pain like you’ve never felt before, you are going to hear bones crack and go blind as the blood covers your face. There’s no way of talking yourself out of this Kevin. Normally, I’d say hey just don’t come to the ring. Don’t show up at Backlash and we can all just know you are afraid and move on. But not this time, because you made the mistake of poking a predator when he was ready to remind the world what he can do. So now, show up because if I have to hunt you down I will. I’ll follow your trail of cookies and sadness to wherever you lay your oversized head and beat you in front of your wife and kids.


Orton wipes the sweat that is forming on his forehead from just the rush of adrenaline he’s putting himself through.

Randy Orton: Come to the ring Kevin, come take the beating like a man.  Those people don’t care that you are about to be obliterated, it will make you stronger in their moronic eyes. They are as pathetic as you and know that if they stepped into the ring with me they’d end up in a hospital too, so they won’t think less of you. Eight days from tonight, Oakland California, at Backlash I’m going to remind the world how vicious I can be. I’m going to remind this locker room that I’m a man to be feared. And I’m going to remind you Kevin Owens that you run your mouth at your own risk.


With that Orton shoves the camera back by the lens and the scene fades out.




Chimel: The following contest is a non-title match and is set for one-fall!



THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVE.
THANK YOU FOR THE HEART.

Tatsuro Yamashita's "Fragile" graces the atmosphere and so does one Katsuyori Shibata. He steps out from behind the curtain like only he does, stoic, calm, and proud. The audience showers him with cheers, excited to see the wrestler after his long absence.

THERE'LL NEVER BE A LONG AND LONELY NIGHT AGAIN.



The fans reach out for him, showering him with love in spite of his past. He swats it all away though. Not the time for pleasantries. It's time for fighting, and that seems to be the only thing on the wrestler's mind as he makes his way to the ring, marching down the ramp like a soldier marching into battle.

Chimel Introducing first, from Kuwana, Japan... weighing in at 215 pounds... he is the wrestler... Shibataaaaaaaaaaaaaa Katsuuuuuuuyoriiiiiii!!!

A resounding applause accompanies that introduction, but you wouldn't know that looking at Shibata. In one ear and out the other for him as he walks up the ring steps and smoothly makes his way through the ropes, denying himself the audience's appreciation.

I WALKED AWAY FROM LOVE. I ALWAYS HAD MYSELF TO BLAME.
I HID MY FRAGILE DREAMS AWAY.

And with that, the voice of Yamashita fades out the atmosphere and what replaces it is a tension that only Shibata could bring to a room. He steps back into his corner and awaits the battle ahead, unmoved. It's as if the only people in the building were Shibata and his opponent.



The arena would be plunged into darkness for the time being, all would remain silent as the fans where upon the edge of there seats, waiting for the moment that something, anything at all would happen and it did, as the static would sound, smoke would come onto the stage and the music would begin to play, upon there feet they stand, knowing what was coming, who was coming, the demon prince himself, the one and only, Finn Balor.



He walks out onto the stage, looking to the crowd for the moment as he smirks, his hands brought up to the collar of his jacket as he flicks it lightly and would chuckle, before spreading his arms out to the side and spinning around to let everyone know, he was here, he has arrived and he was here to do what he does best, prove to the entire world that without a shadow of a doubt, he was the very best that there was, as he turns and walks through the smoke, the purple and red lights flashing around as he knows what he has to do tonight, and he was here to unleash the demon upon everyone.

Chimel: And his opponent, from Bray, County Wicklow, Ireland... weighing in at 190 pounds... The Television Champion, Finn Balor!

Balor and Shibata stare each other down while Tony exits the ring. After ensuring both competitors are good to go, the Referee calls for the bell.


VS

DING DING


When the bell sounds, an ultra-confident Balor steps towards the center of the ring to trash talk his opponent some more. Shibata's death threats and dismissal of Finn's "third rate" championship doesn't sit so well with the Irishman, and brother, he's letting The Wrestler know it.

Shibata doesn't let that mouth run for long. He hurls himself at his opponent and closes that yap with a whip of a European Uppercut. When Finn staggers back from the impact, Shibata follows up with a Big Boot right to the face. The Television Champ's body careens backwards, only stopping when it hits the corner post that he started the match in. Katsuyori pursues him there and lays in with a second European. Then a third. And a fourth.

The last one gets Finn off of his feet. Balor collapses at the bass of the corner post. Shibata braces his hands on the top ropes on either side for some bonus leverage before kicking his foe in the chest. He then pushes his knee into Finn's jaw, grinding the calcified cap into that mouth that was talking so much spit moments earlier.


Phillips: Absolutely vicious start from The Wrestler!

Ranallo: Shibata made one heck of a statement last week in picking up the win against fellow returning veterans Robert Roode and Triple H. He wants to keep that momentum going against the Television Champion.

Graves: I heard him talking a lot about turning over a new leaf in his time away, but as far as I can tell, that's still the same cold-blooded, brutal competitor in there. Shibata better not underestimate Finn, though. Balor's made a career of proving doubters wrong here on Revolution.


When the Referee comes over to break up all this rope-touching action, Shibata grabs a wrist and pulls Finn to his feet so he can whip him across the ring. Finn crashes into the far corner. Katsuyori charges in to follow up with another Big Boot, but the Irishman escapes over the top rope and to the floor right before the kick can find its target.

Shibata has absolutely no patience for that kinda cowardice. The crowd doesn't love it either. There's a mixture of cheers for the former UWF Champ and jeers for the fleeing TV Champ when the former follows him out to the floor. That cheeky Finn rolls right back into the ring as soon as Shibata joins him on the outside. When Katsuyori climbs on to the apron again, Balor knocks him off and down to the floor with a nasty dropkick, earning him a fresh round of boos.


Graves: Nice work by Balor to himself back into this match. That's a future XWL World Heavyweight Champion right there.

Ranallo: Maybe so, Corey, but here in the UWF he's going to need to do a lot more than that to keep a guy like Shibata down.


While The Wrestler is shaking the cobwebs down there on the arena floor, the Official starts a ten count...



1...



2...



3...



Shibata stands and slaps his head, refocusing himself.



4...



5...



He climbs on to the apron once more, bracing himself for another sneak attack from Finn. Balor keeps his distance this time, knowing he can't go to the well again so soon. When Shibata steps back through the ropes, however, Finn hurries to get back on the offensive.

Finn greets the Japanese superstar with a forearm club across the back of the neck. That doubles him over - a European Uppercut gets him standing tall and a Pele Kick to follow him leaves him wobbly. Balor pops to his feet just to Snapmare his opponent down to a sitting position on the mat, after which he torques his head to one side with a wicked cranking submission to wear him down.


Phillips: Ugh! That's a ruthless hold Balor's applying there. I think its a good strategy though - trying to pick Shibata apart rather than standing toe-to-toe with him.

Ranallo: Well Shibata's no slouch in the grappling department, but you're correct, Tom. Shibata's seen a lot of wear and tear over the years and if Balor can capitalize on that, it'll be difficult for The Wrestler to keep up with him out there.


Finn takes a break for the neck crank to deliver and hammer-and-anvil type elbow strike to the collar bone to soften up his foe some more, after which he goes right back to the hold. He yells at the Ref, demanding he ask Shibata if he wants to quit or not. Of course, The Wrestler ain't about to submit so easy. That kinda cockiness gets so more boos for Balor, though. He just sneers at the crowd in response.

The TV Champ then mixes things up by pulling Shibata to his feet and shoving him into the same corner he got mauled in earlier. The Irishman uncorks a snappy knife-edged chop across the chest of the former World Champ once he's draped against the turnbuckle.

The connection of hand to chest cuts through the arena air like a bullet. The fans wince. The ski turns shades. But Shibata looks at the guy like "Is that the best you got?"

His ego as bruised as his opponent's chest, Balor immediately follows up with another that - by the sound of it - must have stung ever worse. Shibata no-sells that too.


Graves: Don't get sucked into the trap here, Finn...

Ranallo: The last thing you want to do is get pulled into a game of shot-for-shot with a guy who lives and breathes Strong Style.


Rather than follow up with another, Balor grabs Shibata by the wrist and pulls him away from the corner. Before he can make something of the new position, Katsuyori counters, takes Finn's arm and whips him across the canvas into the far buckle. Once again, he chases after him, looking to follow up with the Big Boot, and once again, Finn avoids. Instead of diving out of the ring, however, the Television Champ side-steps and catches Shibata with a third chop across the chest.

That one must have knocked the wind out of him. Shibata sits down a little and takes a deep breath. Finn smirks and comes back to follow up with a stomp. The Wrestler catches his boot and switches their positions so that Balor's back is pushed up against the post now. Katsuyoriy grabs the back of his head so it can't go anywhere as he feeds him successive elbow strikes to the side of the head. After ten connect, Finn's legs turn to jelly and he melts at the bass of the buckle.

Shibata instantly stands up and sprints to other corner so that he can build up some speed for the return trip. The fans cheer as Katsuyori barrels back, jumps into the sky, and slows down time before connecting with his patented delayed dropkick. His feet rearrange Finn's features. He pulls Balor away from the ropes and hooks the legs for a pin attempt....



1...



2...



Balor kicks out just after two!


Phillips: That was a close-call!

Graves: Balor's a survivor, Phillips. How many times have people counted him out only for him to come back and reclaim that TV title?


Shibata stands up and brings Balor with him by the scruff of the neck. He doesn't get the chance to follow up though on account of Finn dummies him with a European Uppercut. He then hits the ropes, comes back to nail a Woo Dropkick, and after that sends Shibata into the far cables, Balor takes out his legs on the rebound with a follow-up dropkick.

Katsuyori hits the deck and Finn keeps him there with a standing Double Foot Stomp! Not quite the Coup De Grace as its only from ground level, but still enough for the Champ to try his luck at a pin. The Referee slides in to count it...



1...



2...



Shibata just manages to get his shoulder up in time!

Balor knows he how close he was there, and he knows what it will take to seal the deal. His eyes wander up to the turnbuckle, and that's exactly where he goes.


Ranallo: Finn's going to the top. That Coup De Grace was the big difference maker in getting him the win instead of Jamie Hayter at Wrestlemania. It would be a painful reminder and powerful message sent if he can put it to good use again here on this lead-up show to Backlash.

Phillips: You know Jamie has gotta be watching this one closely.


Finn scales the buckle and turns to line up the prone Shibata in his sites. He points his hands up, stuning a little to the chagrin of the capacity crowd before taking off!

He tucks his legs up, looking to get some added umph on the end of that stomp...

But its all for not! Shibata rolls out of harm's way in the knick of friggin time. Finn lands on his feet cause that's how stomps work, but Katsuyori gets up quick to meet him there. Jamming his knee into Balor's perfect abs, The Wrestler proceeds to hoist all 190 pounds of the guy up on to his shoulders, thinking he wants to hit him some GTS.

Just as he's pushing Finn off for the kill shot, though, Balor slips off the backside and rolls him up for a pin outta nowhere...



1...



Balor grabs a handful of tights!



2...



The Referee catches the dirty deed out of the corner of his eye and stops the count just short of three!


Ranallo: Balor looks like the cat that just caught with the canary!

Phillips: Way to go Ref! They never notice that stuff!


Balor's protesting the to Ref, playing all innocent and such but then Shibata pops out from beneath him and beams him across the side of the head with a wicked forearm shiver. Finn's all woozy, seated there on the mat. Shibata gets up, throws himself into the ropes and runs back to blast the TV Champ dang near in half with a Penalty Kick!

Finn goes down, Shibata lands on top, and the Official counts it...



1...



2...



3...



DING DING




YOUR WINNER...
"THE WRESTLER:
KATSUYORI SHIBATA!


Shibata's music hits the PA and he stands to have his hand raised. The fans cheer. Finn clutches his banged up chest in pain.


Ranallo: Another big win for The Wrestler!

Phillips: Finn nearly stole it out from under him, but Shibata was able to get the job done for a second week in a row.

Graves: Look, sometimes when you're going for the pin you might accidentally slip a little and grab the tights. Guys get sweaty out there. Its bound to happen. As far as I'm concerned, the Television Champ just got robbed.


Shibata doesn't spend a whole lot of time celebrating. Sparing one last look at his opponent, The Wrestler then takes off up the ramp, leaving Balor in the ring as Revolution rolls on.




We cut to the back and we see Solo Sikoa texting on the phone all of a sudden the voice of the new wiseman the strategist Samoa Joe is heard.

Samoa Joe: Who are you texting?

Solo shows Joe the phone, showing he is texting his father Rikishi

Samoa Joe: Listen here, baby chief. After learning you were smuggling money behind the Tribal Chiefs' backs, we have to keep an eye on you. You don’t make any moves unless the Tribal Chief or I instruct you to do so. Is that understood?

Solo Sikoa: Understood.

Samoa Joe: Consider this a temporary grounding until Roman figures out what to do with you. You see baby chief you’re the one that is going to take the heir of the throne when Roman is done with this place. He doesn’t trust anyone else. He trusts not even the twin hall of farmers Jimmy and Jey Uso. No, instead, he trusts you. And you know how many people he could have replaced you with? Numerous people. Hell I’ll be honest I told him to dump you after he found out but the Tribal Chief kept his cool. He wants you to stay.

Solo nods, understanding.

Samoa Joe: Just know that our Tribal Chief needs you as he looks to regroup and regain the title. You are a key part, and we need you as he tries to get rid of Tomasso Ciampa.

Roman Reigns: He is right, Uce.

Solo Sikoa turns and sees the Tribal Chief standing next to him

Roman Reigns: Solo, I need you more than ever. See these guys I can smash them… no Diddy.

Joe goes off camera to laugh off at Roman saying that. Roman obviously didn’t plan to mean his saying like that. Solo is trying his best not to laugh, and Roman smiles it off.

Roman Reigns: You get the idea. I beat these fools, and what happens is they keep crawling back. I can’t always deal with the scraps. I can’t I got to stay locked in and focused on my goal of becoming the UWF champion. But with a guy like Ciampa around, I can’t do that. And once I beat him what do you think he going to do?

Solo Sikoa: Wants his revenge.

Roman Reigns: Exactly. He is going to come out there and tell these people, “Roman barely escaped yada yada. I am the guy who can take everyone out, and I want my rematch against Roman Reigns.” and you know me. Once I beat you, I’m done. I’ve moved on. Greatness doesn’t linger in the past they move forward in the future. That’s where you come in. You remind these bums that you have to go through my heir—the next Chief Solo Sikoa.

Solo Sikoa nods in understanding.

Roman Reigns: Good. Starting now, we going to retake care of business.

The scene fades away




We cut to a pre recorded message from Sami Zayn who is still in Masjid al-Haram after 3 weeks.



Sami Zayn: Oh hello again. I know what you're thinking. Why is a man who claims to want to be at the top of this company busy taking a 3 week vacation. Especially after he sent a big free agent packing yet again. Well it's a pretty simple answer really. I'm not on vacation. This is work. You can't reach a higher level by just doing the same thing every week. I can't just stand around backstage waiting for my greatness to be realized.

I want change in this company but it's clear that we don't have the same view for the future. Taking this time to reflect on myself and the company, it's made me realize quite a few things. I wanted change and I wanted to do it from the top but it's clear that UWF will do everything in it's power to prevent me from attaining my goal. They have lots of resources and bodies to throw in my way and so I've realized that I need to make myself undeniable. I need to take out all the obstacles on my way to the top. It all starts at the bottom...

Well near the bottom. I can't exactly be wasting my time with low level wrestlers but there are other championships besides the UWF Championship. I never wanted to lower myself to a place I am so clearly above but much like this Forever Championship, maybe it's time to raise the stakes of other titles. Maybe the best course of action, is to make the UWF Championship inferior.

I know you're probably wondering just why Sami Zayn is saying his plan so EC3 can counter it. Do you think that egotistical buffoon actually watches what I say? I might as well be white noise but the man keeps me around because I move the needle. I'm the backbone of UWF and I could certainly hurt him where it hurts the most by just walking away and emptying his pockets but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. No as I said before, I'm making myself the focal point of UWF. After Backlash, Sami Zayn will become undeniable.




Chimel: The following contest is set for one-fall and is your Main Event of the evening!





Red lights focus on the stage and smoke billows from the entrance way as 'Skullseeker' by Eternal Champion blasts out of the PA system to a tremendous ovation. Out onto the stage walks The Mighty Caleb clad in armour and sporting a cape. He stands with his arms wide, his cape appearing like black wings against the red background of the stage. In one hand he holds a drinking horn which he holds aloft. As the glorious main riff kicks in Caleb drinks from the horn before raising it high in the air and yelling 'SKAL!'.

Chimel: Introducing first, hailing from The Northern Realms... weighing in at a mighty 235 pounds... he is 'THE MIGHTY' CAAAALEB!

The Mighty Caleb then makes his march down towards the ring, he fist bumps members of the crowd who reach out to him and leads them in the 'SKAL' chant which turns the crowd into a frenzy. Caleb steps up onto the ring apron now and once again holds the horn aloft, pumping his fist as he does so to the rhythm of the crowd. Caleb then enters the ring and continues to pump his fist as he marches around, hyping himself up for the battle ahead.



Blue lights begin to flash around the building as "We Care A Lot" by Faith No More begins to play. Anyone that was having a good night is most likely about to have it ruined as Drew McIntyre steps out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. The Scotsman slowly walks towards the top of the ramp before stopping and looking directly at the ground. After five to ten seconds of build up, The Claymore King lifts his head and arms up which sets off fire pyrotechnics all around him.

Chimel: And his opponent, from Ayr, Scotland. Weighing in at 265 pounds. He is The Destroyer, Drew McIntyre!

The flames continue to go off intermittently as The Destroyer makes his way down the ramp at a steady pace. As he reaches the bottom, he turns and heads for the steel ring steps.  After taking a brief pause, he smacks the top of the steps with his open hand, not once, but twice, before climbing up them and then grabbing the ropes in order to perch himself on the top rope.



The former UWF Champion takes a look at his surroundings before raising his arms again and letting out a hearty battle cry that can be heard from the front rows all the way to the back. McIntyre then drops down to the mat and unclips his ring coat before removing it and dropping it to the outside in order to prepare for the upcoming contest.

Tony heads out after checking to make sure both combatants are good to go, the Official calls for the bell.


VS

DING DING

When the bell sounds off, both of these big ol sons of guns charge each other and start huckin bombs. Somewhere beyond dirty boxing and hockey fights, these former champs find themselves kicking off the marquee match playing rapid fire tit-for-tat with WMD's. Clobber-as-clobber-can wrassling. Memphis shit.

Goes without saying that the capacity crowd eats it up like ants with spilled sugar. Even after sitting through a night jam-packed with in-ring action, that diehard Illini fanbase is ready for some more world class violence and they're getting it with sauce by way of two legit heavyweights tossing hammers.


Ranallo: If you were expecting either of these men to take it easy on the show before Backlash, you were only kidding yourself.

Phillips: McIntyre noted that this one wasn't personal for him, but you wouldn't know it by the slugfest we're witnessing now.

Graves: I think each of these guys would tell you that they'd much rather go into a big show carrying a head on a stick than with a clean bill of health.


What might could be a knockout haymaker from The Mighty Caleb gets caught by McIntyre when he steps in and clutches him in a Uranage-esque grip. Rather than going for that slam, Drew drives his knee up into his opponent's bread basket, knocking the wind out of his long boat sails. The former UWF Champ releases Caleb, who stumbles back a pace. McIntyre tags him with a slicing chop across the torso, then takes an arm to whip him across the canvas.

The Mighty One careens into the far set of cables. McIntyre turns to meet him near the center of the ring. He ducks, vying for a Big Back Body Drop. Stormbringer makes him pay for the telegraph with a dag nasty punt to the body. That one sends The Destroyer reeling. Caleb doesn't let him get too far before pelting him with a hefty forearm across the back of the neck, which drops the guy to a knee near the ropes.


Phillips: Talk about hard-hitting! Caleb might cracked some bones with that one!

Graves: This is reminiscent of Drew McIntyre's title defense against Roman Reigns at last year's Slammiversary. It isn't very often that anyone can match the power of The Destroyer.


Picking him back up by the head, The Mighty Caleb guides his foe towards a nearby corner with every intention of slamming him face-first into the top buckle pad. McIntyre braces himself against the ropes on either side to cute that off. After feeding a back elbow into TMC's mug to ward him off, Drew trades positions and steals the idea, managing to pull it off successfully.

Caleb's head bounces back off the corner like a basketball. Or any ball, really. Except a medicine ball, heavy so they be. Or a football, unpredictable as they are. So just like most sports balls. The Viking recoils, eyes all glossy. Drew spins him around and sends him right back into the buckle with another aggressive chop.

The Mighty One winces. Grits his teeth. Clenches his jaw. Stumbles out of the corner, really feeling that one. Drew lets him pace around the wing to wallow it in - but not for too long. The Destroyer pursues him across the squared circle to another corner, shoves him against it, and follows up with an identical strike. "Oooooh" says the crowd cause that's gotta hurt!


Graves: McIntyre is just picking this guy apart. They may both be recently former champions, but there's levels to this, clearly.

Ranallo: Don't speak too soon, Corey...


After doubling over, Caleb pulls up, dang near frothing at the mouth. Drew grabs a fistful of hair and straightens him out to line up another chop. It lands, but only succeeds in lighting a fire under Stormbringer. The Mighty Caleb responds by headbutting his opponent in the chest as hard as he possibley can.

McIntyre staggers back into the ropes, bounces off, and finds a monstrous shoulder tackle waiting for him on the return. The block knocks Drew off his feet, popping that sold-out arena with a "SKAL!" chant.

Caleb drops down to make the cover...



1...



McIntyre shoves him off at one. Both men roll away to find some distance as they get to their feet once more.  Caleb is the first to close the gap when he hurls himself like some kinda human missile right at Drew.


Ranallo: By the beard of Odin! Here comes The Mighty Caleb with the Gungnir!

Graves: McIntyre shuts it down!


The Number One Contender for the UWF Championship stops his foe dead in his tracks with a knee to the head. McIntyre capitalizes on his kneeling, dazed adversary by hooking his arms behind his back, thinking about some Future Shock DDT. Realizing he's in some serious trouble, Caleb thrashes his body around like a snake with a belly itch until he manages to shake the dude off.

They briefly break apart but are back at it again in no time. A few more strikes are exchanged, neither man gaining and obvious advantage until Drew beams Stormbringer with a European that just about knocks the fella out of his boots. Caleb looks to respond with a lariat, only for McIntyre to catch him on the way in and counter with a Reverse STO.

After driving The Mighty One's bearded face into the mat, Drew rolls him over and hooks a leg for the pin...



1...



2...



Caleb gets the shoulder up right after the two count!


Ranallo: That wasn't quite enough to get the job done, but an impressive maneuver by McIntyre nevertheless.

Phillips: These men are as tough as they come, but you can only take so many of those big shots before the brain shuts down.

Graves: Phillips knows from experience. I've seen him get White Girl Wasted at hotel bars all over the country. What's your drink of choice again, Sour Puss.

Phillips: I'm actually partial to Vodka Spritz. Judging by the everything about you, I'd say you're probably a big time IPA guy, right Corey?

Graves: Yeah, so?


Graves likes his hops, but McIntyre? He likes his chops. And chops are exactly what he uses to plaster The Mighty Caleb back down to the mat when the big guy tries to sit up. After a few of those, Drew switches to a full mount with closed-fist strikes, which, of course, draws the ire of the Third Man.

Under threat of a disqualification, The Destroyer lets up, not before talking some trash at his opponent, though. The crowd boo him for that. McIntyre ignores the peanut gallery and pulls TMC up to a vertical base, once again thinking he wants to hit himself a Future Shock. Just like last time, the hooking of arms sends the former TV Champ into panic mode, and he propels forward to stave off catastrophe.

The result sees both men tumble through the ropes and down to the floor in a - you guessed it! - unceremonious heap.


Ranallo: The ring is only 400 square feet - it was never going to be able to contain these two titans!

Graves: Drew McIntyre had Caleb dead to rights! That savage could have just seriously injured the Number One Contender by tackling him out to the floor like that. The Ref oughta wave this off.


That's not about to happen. In fact, all the Referee is doing now is starting a count to ten. A very slow, methodical one.



1...



2...



Both men begin to stir. McIntyre sits up, cracking his neck from side to side and squeezing some feeling back into his hands after that awkward fall. The Mighty One grasps at the ring apron to use it to help himself get up and steady.



3...



Slowly but also surely, the combatants find their way to their feet. McIntyre pelts the still-shaky Viking with yet another chop across the chest. Caleb retaliates with a Bionic-looing Elbow to back him off.



4...



The Mighty One then grabs Mac's arm and whips him rib-first into the barricade, which shakes like nudist on a iceberg upon impact. The fans on the other side of it are stoked as stoked gets to have that action get up close and personal.



5...



Caleb peels the deflated Scot off the railing, but has no chance to follow up on account of Drew smooches him on the bridge of the nose with a Glasgow Kiss.



6...



Ranallo: These two need to pay attention to that ten count, but I'm not so sure they can hear anything except the adrenaline pounding in their ear drums.

Graves: Those moron fans should be running for cover. They're like the idiots in Godzilla movies who stop to take pictures when the monsters roll through town.



7...



Stormbringer staggers away, clutching a now very-bloody nose. McIntyre grabs him by the back of the head and smashes him face-first into the outside side of the metal turnbuckle post, messing it up even more. Blood splatters all over the place. Yucky. Drew goes to do the same thing again, only for Caleb to whip around and blast him with a lariat upside the head! The Mighty One then 360's the other way for a second rolling lariat - this time with the other arm - on the other side of McIntyre's dome!



8...



McIntyre - in a haze - rolls up on the apron. Caleb climbs there too. Neither steps through the ropes. Drew is about to, he just never gets the chance...



9...



... cause The Mighty Caleb grabs him by the ears, pulls him up straight and bashes in the the face with a headbutt of his own! The blow knocks Drew clear off the apron! Caleb's all groggy from the hit too. Such is the nature of headbutts. Scorched earth and all that. Only thing is, in losing his balance, The Mighty One actually stumbles into the ropes and somehow manages to fall through them just in time to beat the ten count!



10...



DING DING




YOUR WINNER BY COUNT-OUT...
THE MIGHTY CALEB!


"SKAL" shouts the fans as Caleb's music hits the PA. It takes him a few seconds to register what even happened. When the Ref gets him up to raise his hand, The Mighty One is still looking to go after Drew until its explained crystal clear to him that this one's over and done with.


Ranallo: Wow! Talk about a photo finish!

Phillips: Thank goodness for that ten count. I don't think these two would stop fighting until every bone in their bodies were broken otherwise.

Graves: Restart the match! Give the people their money's worth! Drew had him against the ropes - literally!


McIntyre sits up on the floor, shocked, and then fuming that things went down like that. He has to watch the finale replay out in slow-mo on the big screen and brother, he isn't too happy about it. Lord knows that's not how he wanted things to play out ahead of his Hell in a Cell title match against LA Knight AT BACKLASH.

The Mighty Caleb, meanwhile, celebrates in the ring, wiping that nose blood across his face like war paint, letting Vincent know exactly what kinda warrior he's going to be messing with AT BACKLASH.

Revolution comes to a close but there promises to be more exciting in-ring action next time AT BACKLASH.




END OF SHOW


Credits

Hayter vs Roode - AndyDNU
Ciampa vs Rollins - Roach
Owens vs Anderson - Danny
Shibata vs Balor, McIntyre vs Caleb - Fauche

[mattchewie]

Now that's what a go-home show should feel like! I feel like this whole show was ate up with promos, which is a great thing. I loved each of them as they're all painting pretty pictures for what is to come. Also LOVING the fact that there are several "new" faces coming in. It's always a pleasure to collab with Fauche, and we've never had the chance to engage in a rivalry in all of the time we've spent here together, so I am ecstatic at the opportunity afforded to us here! I'm literally foaming at the mouth at the potential with the Caleb/Vincent feud, btw.
Great stuff, everyone!

[Roach]

KO vs Son of the guy who pulls out the glock and spills people’s brains all over the concrete
Gotta love a good rage DQ win. KO gets victimized. Cruel stuff (compliment)

Open challenge from yours truly
Danny locked me in a cage and forced me to declare an open challenge. No clue who my opponent is but appreciate the suspense and looking forward to finding out who answers.

I ain’t reading allat!
More fun developments from the NWO fellas with a lot of wit as you’d expect. Pretty lame that there wasn’t an actual elephant in this though, you can’t tease me like that dude. Appreciate that Penta didn’t say anything more than Cero Miedo, great touch. Don’t approve of Bayley and Rude’s relationship, though. Get away from her! KOR gotta do something about that.

Miss when wrestling shows had a bunch of kidnappings in them, that was sick bring them back!
Great stuff from Rey’s Nakamura, who has been going super hard. Abductions will always get a thumbs up from me and the confrontation between Swerve and Nak was built up really well. Some sinister wisdom and well-written violence make this the promo of the night for me in a show that has quite a few good ones.

Obligatory squash
Unfortunate that Hayter couldn’t get anything up but great to see itfactor’s Roode get a win. I dropped a big ass TT on his head last week and he came back at me with a good rebuttal. Interesting narrative for him so far as he’s not afraid to make Roode look vulnerable and that’s something I always appreciate. 

Game over
Sad to see Trips gone already but sometimes life happens and I totally get it. Gives Rollins a good boost of credibility and no doubt Crann will be cooking up some heat whenever he comes back rather that’s with HHH or whoever. 

Big stoke’s big plea
Don’t think Cwalker was around last time I was here so it’s nice to come back and see a world champ with writing that never fails to be lively. Good stuff here that lays out the dynamic for this feud and does a great job of illustrating how far gone Drew is without even having him show up.

Viking Rules!!!!!
No clue what that stipulation entails but it sounds sick af. Viking gimmick gets an A+ from me. Some great quotes here, namely “I have sought counsel from the gods.” Very fun promo and awesome that the subject is Vincent as that seems like a very fitting program. Would be thrilled to go at it with the Viking one day.

Jesus vs Italian (Devil)
This is my match. Wanted to give both guys some nasty-sounding spots and I hope I was able to do that.

I had an almost unescapable urge to have Bob Sapp win.
Unfortunately I went a different route. There was supposed to be a graphic with a tournament bracket featuring some obscure shooters but I must have forgotten to put it in. Here it is anyways.


Horror Jesus and snakeman 
Appreciate cutting from Shibata to Vincent. Two good biting promos from Vincent and Orton hyping up their respective Backlash matches.

A good ol’ Faucher fight.
Always a pleasure to see Fauche write a Shibata match as he prolly writes him better than I do. Finish comes off more as Bálor beating himself than Shibata beating him which I think is the right call. I swung for the fences and ada answered with a haymaker round 2. Wouldn’t have been all that surprised to see Shibata take an L on this one but you bet your ass I will be flaunting this victory at Backlash. 

Hot stuff… no diddy.
Good to see Chase doing cool things. Short and sweet promo showcasing Roman’s superiority complex.

Terrible, awful, no-good Sami Zayn promo
Get back in the ring geek! This was so solid that Danny will probably award himself all the championships Sami seems to be setting his sights on… so typical smh.

Viking vs Scotsman 
SKAL! Viking wins, in a close one. Not sure how you’re supposed to beat those fellas tbh they’re pretty violent. Absolutely love the finish for this one. Pretty sure I wrote something similar for like a random Big Show v McIntyre bout like a really long time ago so seeing the headbutt countout finish really popped me. Clearly my early work is so greatly revered that even Fauche had to rip from me. It’s okay, I’ll let you off the hook just this once.

[Cwalker]

A better late than never comment, but an exciting go home edition of Revolution. Nice to see certain guys continue to roll like KO, Shibata and Caleb. Thank you to everyone for all the hard work they put in to make this show possible. Onto Backlash!

[Evolution J]

I honestly would like to thank Roach for writing a awesome match. He still got it. Welcome back. Props to Gunn for killing me again and bringing the best out of me. Sorry for not giving you my best rps as of late.

Overall the show was amazing and everyone have chipped in. 👏

Overall, good luck to Roach on his open challenge at Backlash. I am looking forward to see the results.

Huge props to everyone who worked their butt off for Revolution except for me f course. I had to get a last minute promo extremely late.

Other than that. Looking forward to see if Drew can get his UWF Championship back or not.

Viper is on a roll. Finn Bálor is always killing it whether he win or lose.

Loving the Mafia Ciampa. Tony D'Angelo got nothing on him.

If you don't see me at the Backlash PPV, it doesn’t mean I am gone. I just need some rest. Overall my run isn't going well. But oh well. It is all good. I am still having fun and trying my best.

Other than that. Congrats to those who won, rp and contributed. Talk to you later. Adios.