Post by Dres on Jan 23, 2019 21:16:37 GMT -6
The scene opens up backstage, where The Miz is seen standing by, well, more sitting by, as he is in his locker room on a metal folding chair, his private locker room looking like a complete disaster as clothing, bags, and anything else are just strewn about.
Miz: “Every time…..every time…..every time…..”
“Every, GODDAMN time, that I get an opportunity, a moment to shine, a chance at having a CHANCE to finally win a match that matters...there is somebody there. Somebody there to laugh in my face, to beat me down and once again prove that those...those assholes all those years ago...that they were right.”
“That guys like Hardcore Holly, Chris Benoit, and JBL…..were right about me. That I was a nobody, a loser, a college dropout who should’ve stuck to reality TV. Another way to keep me from grabbing that so-called brass ring, the fabled object that everybody should strive to grab because once you have it shows that you, as a wrestler, have made it in the industry.”
The anguish and frustration is building up within Mike as he keeps going, his eyes even welling up with tears.
”Another set of people to keep me down in the midcard where I supposedly belong, another group of guys to come in and put me down and say “hey, Mike, better luck next time!” More ways for them to tell me that I don’t belong in their league, that I am in over my head, that I have no right being where I am, that I am just handed opportunity after opportunity. And that all they do is protect the world from having to see someone who is undeserving becoming a champion…..”
The frustration wins out in the end, as Miz shoots up from the chair, picks it up, and tosses it into a locker, the metal clanging against each other as the chair falls and the door to the locker jolts open from the force, permanently breaking it.
”And they just get away with it because I’m the smart one, I’m the easy one, I’m the one who can’t back up any of the words that he says because it all ends up the exact same way: being held right back down to where I was while those on top get to sit pretty for the entire world to view and react to, whether it be with cheers or boos. And I can stand here and say I am sick and tired of it, that I’ve had enough but what the hell does it matter? If it all ends the exact same, why should I even be bothering with this? If I’m supposed to be an A-Lister, a Hollywood star, why don’t I just…..why don’t I just go do another movie?! Why don’t I leave, go do another film and never come back to the UWF, since at least then the fans will be happier to not hear my mouth run with false courage week after week after week, just for it all to end in another disappointment of a pay-per-view match!”
After a few seconds, Miz pulls out his cell phone, beginning to dial up the number of the network executive he met with earlier, but is cut off by Stone Cold entering the locker room, looking a bit more intense than usual. Austin and Miz have a staredown as Miz puts away his phone.
Stone Cold: I jus’ so happened ta’ be walking by when I heard ya in here and decided ta’ stop an’ listen. And ta’ be quite honest with ya, what I heard made me sick to my damn stomach. Lemme ask ya somethin’, kid. When Stone Cold was an active wrestler here in the You Dubya Eff, do you know how many times someone tried ta’ put the screws ta’ my success? Do you know how many times over the years, even datin’ back ta’ You See Dubya, that I got my ass jumped and attacked the same way you jus’ did at Judgment Day?
It’s a lot, son. A whole damn lot. And hell yeah, there were times I wanted ta’ throw my hands up and give management that double middle finger but I didn’t. You can’t either, and there’s a few reasons for that. For one, yer too damn talented. You might be carving out an additional niche with the Hollywood thing but you an’ Stone Cold both know that yer bread an’ butter is here. Yer passion is here.
Secondly, I need ya. With Sweeney pulling another shortcut out of his ass ta’ keep that championship and beefin’ up his allies and Rick Rude runnin’ around with his group a’ bottom feeders, Stone Cold needs some muscle on his side, so ta’ speak. If I was here with a talent contract, I’d grab some whoopass and go open it up on every last one of ‘em but I’m here ta’ be General Manager so the occasional Stone Cold Stunner notwithstanding, I’m gonna need someone else ta’ do the dirty work.
Remember who the hell you are. Yer the most must-see superstar in the You Dubya Eff. The got dang top a’ the, “A-List”. Remember that and continue ta’ prove that and one day, sure as my middle finger’s itchin’ when I’m not holdin’ it up and there’s cold beer on hand wherever I go, you’ll be the champion and unlike that spineless bastard Sweeney, you’ll defend it honestly.
Miz is actually a bit shook at hearing what Austin has to say, surprised at what is being told to him.
Miz: "You...heh, who would've thought. Never would think that, of all people, it'd be you who brings me back down to my roots, so to speak. I mean...you're right."
Miz postures up from this, trying to look a tad bit more presentable as if he wasn't just a mental wreck.
Miz: "But Sweeney.....who does he have on his side now? Rude, Bischoff, Styles, O'Reilly, Edge, and Christian, right? So that's...what, 7 versus 2 right now? Not to mention all of the mindless lackies that Rude and Bischoff seem to have, and whoever else decides to join them later on? Not to mention that damn referee.."
Miz: "But even then, we need to find some others willing to be joining us because, while I'm not doubting that I can help lead a charge against those guys, it'll always be nice to have a few more guys on our side, no? I mean, I'm sure that there have been some guys on the roster either wanting to prove themselves or pretty damn pissed at Sweeney's bullshit these past few months, right?"
Stone Cold: Damn right. There’ll be more we scrounge together, I just had ta’ get you outta yer own head first. I’m not the biggest pep talk guy, but ya needed one.
Austin looks around.
Now clean this up, would ya?
As the logo is seen, things go live to the inside of the arena as pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the Revolution fans in attendance before panning to the commentary table where Corey Graves and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Tom Phillips: Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the first Revolution of 2019! I’m Tom Phillips.
Corey Graves: And I’m Corey Graves. Well, Tom, Judgment Day has come and gone and what a show it was.
Tom Phillips: Memorable but one could argue it’s for all the wrong reasons, Corey, as Sweet ‘n Sour Inc. and the Anti-Austin Alliance were all over it and cheated to retain not one, but two championships.
Corey Graves: Well tonight we’ll hear from both groups and not only that, a representative from each team will compete in our main event when Sweet ‘n Sour’s Edge teams up with the Intercontinental Champion Rick Rude of the Anti-Austin Alliance to take on The Miz and Elix Skipper.
Tom Phillips: And that’s not the only match on deck, folks. In a clash between former Television Champion and hopeful Television contender Drew Gulak takes on Jay White.
Corey Graves: Speaking of the Television Championship, the new champ Aleister Black will be taking on Baron Corbin.
Tom Phillips: And in our opening contest, it’s the debut of Sami Callihan as he goes toe-to-toe with, “King Nothing” Triple H.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, already in the ring. From Bellefontaine, Ohio. Weighing in at two hundred pounds. Sami...Callihan!
Sami poses for the crowd as they give the appropriate reaction.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
HAIL! HAIL!
As the chant begins over the arena's soundsystem, the fans take it up, and it resonates loudly even as Avenged Sevenfold's "Hail to the King" commences in earnest. Soon the man arrives himself, King Nothing, walking out from the back.
Tony Chimel: From Greenwich, Connecticut. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-five pounds. Triiiiiple...H!
Pausing at the top of the ramp, he surveys the chanting masses — his "subjects" — and then marches his way down to the squared circle, entering it only after scraping his boots on the apron.
As the two men look at each other and prepare for the match ahead, the ring bell sounds again.
DING DING!
Callihan runs straight over to the other side of the ring, clubbing in forearms, one after another after another after another. Triple H retreats to the corner, and continues to get hammered on, but suddenly, he shoves Callihan back to the other side of the ring. Triple H waves his finger to discourage that rush on him.
Corey Graves: “Looks like things are going to go how King Nothing wants it in this match!”
He allows Callihan to get back up to his feet, and he waits slowly for him. Triple H then locks up with Sami Callihan in the middle of the ring, and quickly switches into a headlock. Triple H then grabs the arm and whips Callihan over to the ropes.
Triple H then clubs him down with a clothesline knocking him down to the mat. He then grabs the arm of Callihan and then clotheslines him back down to the mat once more. Keeping a hold of the arm he then whips Callihan over to the ropes.
Triple H returns with lifting Callihan up in the air and then slamming him down with the Spinebuster. After this, Triple H then heads around the ring, rallying up the crowd in his way. He then takes Callihan back up to his feet and then hits the ropes to return to Callihan.
He then takes his head and hits the harsh facebreaker knee smash on Callihan on the rebound and makes him crash down to the ground. Triple H then leans out and hits his signature pose.
Tom Phillips: “Completely one sided so far, will Sami Callihan even have the chance to rebound?!”
Triple H then underhooks both of the grounded arms of Callihan and drags him up to his feet, setting him up for a big move. He then lifts up Callihan and drops him with the King’s Justice. He then hooks the leg.
One…
Two…
Three!
DING! DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, Triple H!”
Triple H gets his hand raised by the referee, and then heads to the second turnbuckle to pose to his adoring fans. Callihan rolls out of the ring in shame and the camera quickly switches back to the posing victor.
As Callihan and Triple H are leaving the ring, soon a tune, as familiar as it is foreign, rolls out of the PA, stoking the fans’ curiosity.
Graves: What’s this?
Phillips: I don’t know, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this…
Soon enough, it all becomes clear. Four UWF superstars walk out onto the ramp - Larry Sweeney, Kyle O’Reilly and their new associates, Edge and Christian. The atmosphere in the room changes like a light switch switched. They couldn’t possibly be booing louder or more spitefully. The sight of Sweeney still carrying all that gold (well, technically speaking Kyle’s holding the two non-world caliber belts) is heinous enough. Seeing the beloved tag team icons as treacherous turn-coats is even worse.
Despite the hate raining down from all sides, the four men look to be enjoying themselves - even proud to be garnering such a strong reaction. They’re amused, if nothing else. They all head on down to the ring, Kyle rushing to grab them microphones while they step up into the squared circle. Icky Thump blares on a while longer, but soon enough, Larry Sweeney calls for it to cut out so he can kick things off.
Sweeney: Well well well… ain’t we a site for sore eyes! Ahahahaha!
The dastardly cackle resonates through the disgusted arena.
Sweeney: I don’t know how many more times I’m gonna have to come out and here and do the “hate to say I told ya so” spiel… but what the hell? Tonight’s as fine a night as any! Haha!
Imagine being stupid enough to have beared witness to everything I accomplished in 2018 and still think that there was a chance that the Miz was going to beat me! Unbelievable! The worst offender, of course, was little Mikey himself. He can argue his D-list Hollywood status till he’s blue in the face - I think that it is now entirely incontestable that his wrestling is B-level at best.
There’s a place for him in this company jerking curtains, sure, but you dummies all got carried away in taking him seriously as a legit main event kinda fella. Enablers, every last one of ya’s, and you oughta be ashamed. I mean… did ya see the look on his face after I creamed him? He was downright devastated! Hahaha! Yeah! That’s on you…. That’s on you.
I warned ya, but did anyone listen? Nope. Nobody ever listens. Especially one Mister Stone Cold Steve Austin…
The people cheer the name drop. Larry just sneers and goes on.
Sweeney: Oh, fans of his, huh? Well newsflash, ya hapless mark dopes - that drunky, redneck buffoon is trying his damndest to tank this entire show and sabotage my historic championship reigns. He’s a petty, jealous schmuck and he oughta be put out to pasture on his ranch like any other old horse that’s way past its prime!
It’s like the Titanic out here these days, I can’t tell if he’s the iceberg or the incompetent captain at the wheel, but either way, we’re all in big trouble unless someone does something. And so, ladies and gentlemen… I proudly present to you… that something!
The Triple-Champ melodramatically gestures towards Edge and Christian, like a game-show host unveiling a new car.
Sweeney: This… ahaha…. Yes, THIS! THIS is the the solution. This is the answer. This is the future of the UWF. Folks, you are looking at a united front. This is the new, New Deal. This is the partnership that’s gonna send Stone Cold packing, take control and drive this puppy into a new era of sports entertainment! Since day one, I’ve told you that big changes were comin’! Now here they are! Ahahahaa!
Larry laughs his face off while the Diabetic Dragon takes over.
KO’R: Steve, you thought you were so clever, keeping me away from ringside and stacking up the lumberjacks with a bunch of tools and asswipes that are all just as hopeless and bitter as you…
But did you plan work? Uhhhhhhhhhh, nope! There’s no outsmarting us, Steve. You can’t get an angle, here. You’re not equipped to go toe-to-toe with Sweet n’ Sour, cause you’re just a dumb hick with a goofy accent and no new tricks up his sleeve. Did you honestly think we’d just let you hand Miz the Undisputed UWF Championship the same way you handed him the title match in the first place? Pffft, gosh you’re stupid. So stupid.
We’re always going to be better. We’re always going to smarter. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men standing at ringside, and we still came out on top. You failed. We won. And hey, all credit where it’s due. Tonight… this moment… all made possible by the single greatest tag team in the history of professional wrestling… Edge and Christian!
Kyle steps aside so that E&C can take the floor. The duo clap for a moment, showing their praise for their brand new business partners, before Christian brings the microphone up to his own lips.
Christian: You know O’Reily, it’s a crying shame that there’s not more people of your generation like you in that locker room! As a matter of fact, these fat, lousy, no good, unappreciative slobs in this arena could take a lesson in respecting talent!
It’s cheap, but an effective maneuver to grab some heat for the newly formed faction.
Christian: But let’s be honest, we didn’t come out here just to show these non believers true talent. They’ll be seeing plenty of us within the coming months. Although we run on a tight schedule running with the man of the hour, we’ve allowed the drunkard Stone Cold Steve Austin a bit of our valuable time, so we’ll give the people the facts that matter!
You want answers, we’ve got facts, jack. The most indisputable fact is that we helped two crucial factors of this brand. Number one being Larry Sweeney’s reign of terror on this promotion! It was Edge’s pleasure to spear that pervert The Miz out of this world and continue the greatest run with the UWF Championship, while, number two, saving our careers!
Let’s face it, if we were a couple of goody two shoes on Steve Austin’s brand, then suffice to say, we’d be donezo! What you are all looking at is permanent! Cemented in stone! You may not like it, but you’ll have to accept it! The loyal Peeps and Edgeheads are already behind us. That is the group that knwos what’s good for ‘em!
The crowd boo them once again, but Edge is quick to pick up his mic and retort, as Christian stands back.
Edge: Forever, bozos! Christian, Sweeney, O’Reily, you’ll have to forgive this crowd. It’s hard for them to accept the reality of their favorite stars being put to dust by us. They want to debate our ideals and hope that we’re taken down, but look at the gold that’s in this ring. Kenny Omega jumping off a cage and winning a belt? Whatever! The real highlight of Judgement Day was ol’ Larry here picking up a guaranteed win on The Miz, we knew it was going to happen, and I was ensuring that this company had at least one sensible world champ! Larry, you might be giving me and Christian the credit here, but trust me when I say without your brains, this wouldn’t have happened. Christian and I made the right call. Steve Austin can kiss our collective asses, because from here on out, we RUN this company.
W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Eric Bischoff steps out from behind the curtain with Joey Styles flagging behind him, saluting the fans as they leap to their feet to boo him out of the arena. Bischoff simply points to his smiling and dimples as he adores the fans that hate him so dearly.
Bischoff locks eyes with the four men in the ring and points at them with a smile before giving a double thumbs up. Bischoff walks down the aisle and enters the ring, pulling a microphone from his jacket pocket.
Bischoff: Wow! I think I got just as much of a warm reception from these fans as you guys did. Now, I don’t know about you guys...but I have nothing but love for these people!
Bischoff stops as the crowd begins to boo again. He smiles his classic smile and waits for the noise to die down.
Bischoff: Mr. Sweeney, allow me to be the first person outside of the New Deal to congratulate you on retaining your championship. I can see that Kyle here is just as proud of you as the rest of us. I know that feeling of pride of seeing your client retain his championship. As for the two of you...I would also like to congratulate you for coming to your senses and stepping out of the umbrella of impending doom that is the dark cloud hovering over Revolution...that dark cloud being none other than Stone Cold Steve Austin.
The fans, yet again, let out a cheap pop at the mention of the name. Bischoff rolls his eyes.
Bischoff: Ya know...if you people were even the slightest bit intelligent, you would understand that you are booing the wrong people and cheering for the wrong man. The men standing before you right now, along with my client who will join us in just a short time, are the men who are trying to save this promotion. It doesn’t deserve to be saved, given the schmucks that are the so-called board of directors as well as the idiots that we have running the shows as GMs...but because each of us love this great sport, we would hate to see it die for all of the wrong reasons. That is why we are attempting to solve the issue that is Stone Cold. Instead of booing us, you should all be thanking us, but we understand that some of you are mentally incapable of grasping that concept.
Bischoff hands the microphone to Styles.
Styles: Ladies and Gentlemen...My name is Joey Styles and I am the unbiased, unaffiliated, official voice of the Anti-Austin Alliance. Instead of telling you about what this man has accomplished, I will let him walk out here and tell you himself...please help me in welcoming the reigning, defending, 4th longest reigning Intercontinental Champion….”Ravishing” Rick Rude!
Rude wastes no time walking down the ramp and entering the ring. Styles and Bischoff sit on the middle ropes to hold it down for Rick as a show of respect as he enters the ring. Rude shakes the hands of Bischoff and Styles. He walks up to face Sweeney. The two have a stare down for a moment before Rude extends his hand and shakes the hands of all members of the New Deal. The crowd is booing to a point to where Rude’s music can barely be heard. Rude takes the microphone from Styles.
Rude: What I’d like to have right now...is for all of the dashing...cunning...sophisticated...physically immaculate men standing in the ring right now to raise up their right hands and give themselves a pat on the back for jobs well done.
They all follow Rude’s instructions as the crowd boos on.
Rude: Not what you all expected is it? But, wait...did you pay attention to what Mr. Styles said right before I came out? The 4th longest reigning Intercontinental champion of all time? Do you know what that means? It means that I have defended this title time and time again, longer than the man that I took this belt from, the Miz...it means that out of the 18 reigns that this belt has been through, it has stayed around my waist for all but three men. In eight days, my reign will be bumped up to the 3rd longest reign. It means that in just a few short months come Wrestlemania, I will be the longest reigning Intercontinental champion of all time.
But I’m not out here to hog all the spotlight, oh no. I’m out here to celebrate each of our victories. You see, each of us standing here tonight, with the exception of Mr. Styles, have personally been held back or victimized by one Stone Cold Steve Austin. The board of directors, as you all well know, doesn’t seem to care. Mr. Bischoff, Mr. Styles, and myself had already taken matters into our own hands to deal with this issue...it seems that Mr. Sweeney and his associates have done the same thing. Gentleman, you can see that we weren’t lying when we said that something needed to be done about the Stone Cold regime. I am glad to see that we are not alone in taking this issue seriously.
Austin...I warned you. I told you that Elix Skipper would be just another statistic for my record. Now that he is gone, what else do you have to throw at me? Judgment Day was just one of many victories to come for each of us here in the ring...Eric?
Rude hands the microphone off to Bischoff.
Bischoff: Austin...we warned you. We gave you a chance to cease and desist..but no, you being the rebellious drunkard that you are, you’re dead-set on getting that belt off of Rick Rude’s waist. You’re bound and determined to give all of us hell. Well, I hate to be the one to give you this big reality check...but finally others are starting to give that hell right back to you. Your days of intimidating us, holding us back, and abusing your power are long gone Austin. There’s not a damn thing that you can do about it either...and that’s the bottom line, cuz we said so!
As the infamous glass shatters and the equally as infamous theme music follows, the crowd comes unglued as the General Manager of Revolution, Stone Cold Steve Austin, makes his way down the ramp quickly, microphone already in hand. Austin enters the ring and raises his microphone as his music stops abruptly.
Stone Cold: Admittedly I should’ve known better than ta’ give you jackasses this much time ta’ talk on my damn show, but after Judgment Day especially, there were things I wanted ta’ get to the damn bottom of! Well now ya done pissed Stone Cold off more than he already was, because while ya seem ta’ be in agreement that you don’t like Stone Cold bein’ in power and think the grass’d be greener if I didn’t make it my stomping grounds, you haven’t answered the got dang question I wanted answered.
Austin walks over to Sweeney.
Look at me. And I don’t mean from behind yer “Crocodile Rock” sunglasses either, take them sumbitches off and really look at me.
Sweeney removes the glasses, unamused by Austin’s bossiness.
Is Sweet ‘n Sour Inc., (What?) Or the New Deal. (What?) Or whatever you wanna call this group of chicken shits... (What?) In cahoots with the Anti-Austin Alliance?
Austin turns to Kyle O’Reilly
Are ya in bed with ‘em? Your ringleader over there looks like he gets into bed with a lotta’ guys. Is there a partnership going on?
Austin now turns to Edge and Christian.
Either of you wanna answer Stone Cold? Come on, Christian, ya creepy little bastard. Speak up. Let’s hear it, Edge, spill the damn beans.
Austin walks over to Rude now.
Maybe I’m asking the wrong person. So let’s hear it champ: are you sons a’ bitches some kind a’ In Dubya Oh throwback where everyone that wants ta’ tell the authority figure ta’, “eat a fat dick, we’re takin’ over” can do so or did you jus’ happen ta’ put the screws ta’ Stone Cold Steve Austin at the same time?
Austin gets in Bischoff’s face now.
The longer I go without getting an answer, son, the itchier this finger a’ mine gets ta’ open up a can of whoopass. So tell me, what the hell have you put together? You tryna’ rise up outta Resistance’s ashes and run a brand how you think Stone Cold oughta be runnin’ things? You an’ these jackoffs all one unit? Well while you mull over how ta’ answer that in that little pea brain a’ yers, here’s an abuse of power yer really not gonna like.
Austin points at Styles.
Your little ass was never on the damn payroll so as far as I’m concerned, you can get ta’ steppin’. You’re fired!
The fans cheer this but the men in the ring do not approve. As Joey leaves the ring, Bischoff angrily shoves Stone Cold. Austin takes a few steps back as a result, looks down at his body, then at Eric.
You shouldn’t a’ done that.
Austin hits Bischoff in the head with his microphone as he goes down to the mat. Rude steps up as a result and takes a swing but Austin blocks it with his forearm and lands a shot with his other fist. O’Reilly comes over next but Austin blasts him with a punch before landing another on Rude, taking the Intercontinental Champion down with a Lou Thesz Press as he begins lighting into him with punches.
Tom Phillips: Well answer or not, Stone Cold’s had enough!
Corey Graves: That ignorant drunk! He said so himself earlier tonight that he couldn’t put hands on the talent! What the hell does he call this?
As Austin gets up, he throws an elbow into O’Reilly’s face, then takes him down with a lariat. Christian goes for Austin but gets kicked in the stomach and hit with a Stunner! As Stone Cold gets up though, the numbers become too much as Edge and Sweeney both ambush him.
Chants of, “Austin! Austin!” are heard as Sweeney and Edge put the boots to the, “Texas Rattlesnake”. Sweeney goes and picks up one of his titles as he tells Edge to stand Austin up. As he does, Austin turns and kicks him in the stomach, dropping him with a Stunner. As Austin gets up, Sweeney is about to hit him with his title but instead drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring.
The crowd boos as Sweeney leaves up the ramp. Stone Cold’s inviting him back to the ring but Larry shakes his head, telling him, “You’ve already dug your own grave” as Revolution heads elsewhere.
"and NEEEEEEEEEEW UWF Television Champion, Aleister Black!"
The titantron cuts to a video of Aleister Black winning the Television Championship, intercut with occult imagery. Finally, the camera tilts up, revealing Aleister sitting in an armchair, the masked figure whose identity has been a mystery for weeks standing menacingly behind him.
?: When he began to reign, as soon as he had seated himself on his throne, he struck down all the house of Baasha. He did not leave him a single male of his relatives or his friends.
Aleister looks up, flicking his hair back and looking out into where the sky would be had they been outside.
Aleister: Five weeks. Five men. Five victims. Five wins. Five is said to be the number of grace, and so I've decided to grace this company by giving Baron Corbin, the lonely wolf, low-level scum who hangs out in catering, an opportunity to prove that he ever had what it takes to begin with. And for someone who claims to be the "eyes and ears of the UWF," you are blind, you are deaf, and you aren't fit for the big leagues. When I keep this title for a year, and then two years, and then three years and four, and I go on to win every title I can, I'll prove to you, Corbin, that I don't need this title. This title. Needs. Me. It needed me since the day Drew Gulak got his hands on it, and now that I have it, it has been reborn...
Aleister stops looking up and stares directly into the camera. He taps the arm of the chair idly.
Aleister: Wedergeboorte...
I control this title. I decide its future. I will make sure that you head straight into injury yet again, and I will make sure you don't get CLOSE to getting this.
Aleister gets up, seemingly looking at something else off-screen? He walks to his right, as the camera pans with him to reveal... the Television hanging up by a chain. And hanging from each side of the strap is a marionette version of Jay White and Drew Gulak! He points to the marionettes before speaking about.
Aleister: Because I have spent month after month trying to get back into the UWF, and to beat the best of the best... and, right now, all I'm face to face with is the worst of the worst. Baron Corbin, you don't concern me. You don't scare me. You just can't scare someone who has full control. With this title comes control. Control over this brand. Control over this division. Control over this company. I have absolute control over the people, the... sad, sad people who dictate their entire lives around just a single belt. Those who just can't look ahead and see the long-term of things, and what they're going to do when they face the reality that taking this belt from me is not a hardship, but an impossibility. I control them. Drew Gulak? Jay White? Nothing more than puppets. And I look forward to seeing who will become the 7 in 7-0 tonight. In fact, I'd just like to run down the two who will fight tooth and nail just to have a chance at a chance to lose to me, and I'd like to do so... right.. now.
Firstly, Drew, you just plain and simple don't have the mindset of a champion at all. You're hollow, your career is founded on lies and misinformation, your soul is missing and in its place are maggots. We all know the formula, Drew, you come out here, memorize some words straight out of a thesaurus, and spout out something that might vaguely resemble a promo, and somewhere intermittently you might mention how you are one of the only 100+ day reigning Television Champions. But it isn't are, anymore, is it Drew? It's were. You have lost the only thing that set you apart, and what are you now? Simply put, Drew, you are nothing. You lost the title that you've based your entire career on, and if you try to get it back, I'll prove something that everyone out there already knows. I. Can destroy. You.
Aleister ponders for a bit, before cracking a bit of a smirk.
Aleister: But you, Jay White? Well, let's just say... we have unfinished business here. You see, I'm not satisfied with beating you once. I'll admit it right here. I let you get too much offense on me in our last match. And I'm done with rewatching that match over and over again and watching you get the best of me in some facets, even if I did win. I'm tired of watching your smug face, thinking that you had me beat.
Aleister drops the smirk to stare directly into the camera, almost burning holes through it.
Aleister: Next time we fight. I will not let that happen. I will make you feel true pain. And when I rewatch it, I'll see you, decimated in the middle of the ring, with my arm raised. Oh, and sorry about Veda.
I pity you two. I pity you because you are two of the people who don't know who I am and what I'm capable of. Every week I've gotten nothing but, "You're a lot like that Vinny Marseglia," instead of, "You're a lot better than that Marseglia," despite me making examples of everyone the UWF has to offer. And while you love to talk a lot about who I am and how you're better, you know damn well that none of you have the gall, the will to fight me. To step into that ring, and fight me. And if you do, if that paycheck is just enough to validate you making the worst decision you've ever made in your lives, you still know that you will hardly give me a challenge, or make me break a sweat.
Aleister pulls out a pair of scissors, looking at the strings holding the puppets to the title.
Aleister: No matter which one of you faces me, I will show you that you are attached to this title. I will show you that I have control over you, and your moves, and your emotions and your fears and your decisions, and I can end your careers at any time. As for me and my acquaintance here... We'll keep going. I'll keep this title, and him? He'll break his way into the company. You will know his name very, very soon. And by the end of this month, you won't be able to forget it.
The. End.
He begins cutting the strings on the marionettes, letting them both fall off the belt, hitting the floor with a thud. It cuts to a different shot, farther away this time. He takes the belt off the chain before he and the masked man start leaving the area. Aleister steps on one of the marionettes as they leave, pushing it and crushing it into the ground. The camera moves in to reveal it's Jay White, head half crushed.
The titantron fades into a Revolution graphic of Aleister Black with "Later" written under it.
Tom Phillips: Yes, you're reading it right, folks. Later on tonight, Aleister Black celebrates his championship win at Judgement Day. What will he have in store for us?
Corey Graves: Yeah, unfortunately. Do his promos even mean anything? All they do is give me headaches.
Tom Phillips: Well, Corey, you might not be the only one with a headache soon, because we're also getting Aleister Black vs. Baron Corbin. Will the lone wolf be able to set his recent loss to Jay White right, or will the Dutch Destroyer claim yet another victim?
Corey Graves: Great, three for the price of one...
The titantron goes back to the standard Revolution graphic as the crowd prepares for the action up next.
As we move on from the previous segment, we are backstage where we are greeted by Tommaso Ciampa, he is here to put the whole roster on notice.
Tommaso Ciampa: "A lot of people seem to think that in this company; there are some outstanding spectacles, outstanding athletes. You've got guys like Drew Gulak and Larry Sweeney. People say that they are an inspiration and they believe in them. To me, that's unbelievable. You know what I believe in? I believe in Tommaso Ciampa. I believe that when I enter the UWF ring for the first time, it will be unforgettable. I believe that I am going to steamroll through every single person that stands in my way and I believe going to expose every single person in this company for what they truly are. I'm here to make sure that this company gets what it deserves."
Ciampa takes a deep breath before continuing, he is not here to play around. He has a plan.
Tommaso Ciampa: "I'm going to change the landscape of the UWF. A lot of you probably think that I don't have a shot in this company and that's fine. You're entitled to your own opinions, even if they are utter bullshit. I didn't come to UWF to do the same old song and dance as these other assholes. If you think you know the definition of focused and determined then forget what you know because Tommaso Ciampa is going to rewrite the definition. You're going to witness something that you have never seen before. I'm here and I have a purpose; rid the UWF of the plague of people that are bringing this company down. UWF, I'm not here to just whoop ass and take titles. UWF, I am your saviour. I'm not just here for my own gain but I'm here for you too and I hope you're ready. There is not one person that I won't break down or rip apart to get what I want. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer but the problem is; you can't tell them apart these days so I'm not here to kiss ass or make friends. I want every single person in this company listening to me right now to prepare themselves. The show is called Revolution for a reason and finally that reason has arrived. Project Ciampa is a-go!"
Ciampa stands up and walks away from the camera leaving the UWF fans shook by his words, leaving quickly to keep them hot on their tails. Not only has he put the roster on notice, his plan has begun. As Ciampa gets further and further away from the camera the shot fades.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
The lights fade to black as the beginning of Out of the Black by Royal Blood breaks the silent suspense of the crowd. Mist begins cascading across the stage as nothing exists to light the stage other than the candles lining it and the light from the titantron.
The music begins slowly building up to Aleister Black's inevitable entrance. Various shots of the occult; summoning circles, all-seeing eyes, and the like, appear on the titantron, along with Aleister Black sitting cross-legged in the light of a stained glass window.
Aleister begins rising from the mist, stands there for a moment with his Television Championship, before calmly walking to the middle of the middle of the stage, staring out into the crowd blankly.
He starts walking down to the ring with a purpose, his nameplate appearing on-screen.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 215 pounds, from Amsterdam, Holland... Aleister... Black!
He pauses for a bit before the ring. He starts surveying his surroundings; the crowd, the ring, and the ringside area. He then takes a turn around the side of the ring opposite hard cam, climbing the stairs and launching himself over the top rope, landing in his signature seated position. He sits there for a couple of seconds, before getting back to his feet and moving to his own corner. Before the next man enters, he takes off his championship belt and hands it to an official outside.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
The arena becomes dark as all of a sudden hellish flames appear on the tron a dark noise is heard and all of a sudden the the guitar riffs hard and out from the darkness come one man. The eyes, and ears of the UWF Constable Baron Corbin. Fans in the arena boo as Constable Corbin comes out. Corbin has a smug look on his face as he comes out in his dress clothes.
Tony Chimel:From Kansas City, Missouri. At 6'8'' and 285 pounds. He is the eyes and ears of the UWF, Constable Baron Corbin!
Corbin is bobbing his head to the entrance music and as he raises the dark backgrund behind him and lights raise. The fans are just letting Corbin hear it but he doesn't care as he is soaking in the moment and looking arrogant doing so. Corbin gets in the ring, and he takes the center of the ring and raises his arms as fans boo. Corbins music dies down and Corbin is ready for his match to begin.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, Corbin gives Black a cocky smile, clearly unimpressed by his appearance or his accomplishments. He walks up and slaps the Television Champion, which doesn’t sit well at all as Aleister grabs him by the throat with one hand and pulls him in, looking furiously as Baron looks remorseful. While he’s being choked though, Corbin delivers a low punch to the body as Black releases his grip and doubles over in pain. Baron grabs him and looks to finish this early as he goes for the End of Days.
Baron gets up, smiling ear-to-ear, convinced that he successfully connected with the move but unbeknownst to him, the big man managed to roll through and get out of it as he’s sitting there in his infamous pose behind Corbin. He stands up and taps Corbin on the shoulder and as the Constable turns around, he’s leveled by a Black Mass! Black goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
At the last possible second, Corbin gets the shoulder up, still showing some fight. This doesn’t amuse the champion as he gets up and looks at Baron coldly before heading to the top rope. Black leaps off, connecting with a, Blood Moon Stomp as you can feel many people watching collectively wince at the impact.
Tom Phillips: That can’t be good for his ribs.
Corey Graves: I don’t think Black is going to be shaking Corbin’s hand after this one.
Aleister looks as Corbin is twitching on the mat. Black walks over to him and leans down to grab him but as he does, Baron rolls him up, looking to steal this one!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Black gets out of the pinning predicament furiously as the two men separate and are now standing across the ring from one another. Corbin reiterates to the, “Dutch Destroyer” that he thinks he’s just a guy with a belt as Black goes for another Black Mass but Corbin manages to reverse it into a Deep Six! As Baron laughs at his own cunning, Black merely sits up and crosses his legs as the smile on Corbin’s face vanishes.
The Constable is angry now as he kicks Black in the face, laying him out on the mat. Corbin begins delivering vicious stomps now before leading Black back to his feet and throwing him into the corner. Baron charges and sandwiches his opponent in the corner before grabbing Black as he makes the ascent up the turnbuckle and leads the Television Champion up with him.
Once both men are perched on the top, Corbin delivers a headbutt to make sure he stays dazed and then hooks him in position.
Tom Phillips: He can’t be thinking...
Corey Graves: I believe he is!
Baron hits the End of Days off the top rope as the crowd is in disbelief. Corbin gets up, his body a little shaken up by it, as he spits on the champion. The Constable sits an out of it Black up and then leads him to his feet. Corbin grabs his hand and begins to simulate a handshake between the two as a dazed Black appears to be falling off balance but he suddenly gets his footing back as he shoots an angry look at Corbin who looks shocked and petrified.
Black pulls his hand free and, before Baron can fully process the consequences coming for his arrogance, he’s blasted with a Black Mass! Aleister makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Aleister Black!
Black is handed his Television Championship as he slings it over his shoulder and sits down. He looks over at Corbin and shakes his head, then looks out at the crowd, patting the faceplate of his title as Revolution heads elsewhere.
The cameras fade in to a bar, specifically The Midnight Cowboy, located in Austin Texas. While the music in the joint sounds pretty nice and almost uplifting, in a weird sense, the mood of some of the patrons is near opposite as they drink away their various sorrows. Located right in the middle of the mellow hoopla is one specific patron that has made frequent appearances at the place, all ending the same way. The slamming of another glass, and Patrick, the bartender, making his way over.
Patrick: You know Chris, that's your fourth one yet. You've been here, what, fifteen minutes?
The patron just sits there, staring at his empty glass.
Patrick: Fine. Just know you're paying for this one. No more bailouts from me.
Patrick fills the patron's glass with a substance that would raise the rating of any television show. The patron watches on, sitting in cold silence. At this, the door to the bar swings open, and in walks a rather somber-looking Mike Mizanin, still angry at himself for the ending to Judgement Day. He looks around, before taking a seat next to the patron. Before Patrick can ask him about what his poison is, he glances over to the patron.
Miz: “Hey...don’t I know you from somewhere? I swear I’ve seen you before…wait, Chris?”
The patron tries to look away, focusing on anything else. He directs his attention to a television set straight out of the last decade, broadcasting a TMZ “report”.
John Smith: This revelation comes after the disgraced professional wrestler performed a “double-split”, first with his band, Fozzy, who have released their third straight single to top the hard rock charts, and then with his own family. His now ex-wife says: It's time [...] to move on.
Jessica Lockhart: Get those cameras outta my face! Nobody cares about what's going on between Chris and me! It's time for you idiot reporters to move on!
The television changes to ESPN, broadcasting a Texas Longhorns basketball game.
Patrick: Jeez, the things they put on TV nowadays.
Which leaves the patron with nothing to divert his attention to. Now, it's just him and Michael.
Miz: “I, uh, wanted to just say thank you...for earlier tonight, pulling people off of me during the lumberjack match.”
The patron reaches over for a pen, one of the kind with multiple colors, and a napkin from under an abandoned drink. He writes a note and passes it to the Miz.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Please leave me alone.
For your own good.
Miz: “...Come on, man, don’t do this. It’s hurricane, just...just let me try to be here for you-”
As Miz is talking, he is cut off by Patrick, who is looking somewhat impatient with Michael.
Patrick: Okay, come on man are you going to order something or no?
Miz: “Yeah, sure, get me uh….get me an Arnold Palmer.”
Patrick doesn’t make any fuss about it, instead quickly pouring the drink and sliding it over to Miz, who catches it and gives a quick acknowledgement to the barkeep.
Miz: “Come on, Chris, just...let us talk.”
The patron continues to look around, trying to find anything to excuse ignoring the Miz, but to no avail. Finally, he flips the napkin over and writes another note.
Everyone I love suffers.
Everything I touch is ruined.
Everything I do is done in vain.
I would much rather go through hell alone,
than drag somebody else down with me.
As Miz is reading, he looks up to him for a second, almost with sorrow in knowing this.
Miz: “Well, I mean...if it’s any consolation, I’m already pretty close to ruined without your...okay that was going to sound pretty damn weird, uh, what I’m trying to get at is that with or without you, I’m already getting screwed over every time I get a chance to shine, so why not have a friend to help through it?”
The patron looks up, contemplating what he's heard. He turns his napkin inside-out to write another message.
So you want me to help you?
Miz: “I want us to help each-”
The patron puts his hand up, and once again puts down a note to be read. Then, he slams down a $50 bill and hastily exits.
Tough shit.
Miz looks on, almost in disbelief, at his departure, beginning to chase after him but then stopping at the sound of a throat being cleared.
Patrick: Don’t you have something that ya-
Miz: “Shit, right my bad. Gimme a moment.”
Miz quickly downs the drink in a few swift gulps, and hands over a $10 to the barkeep before bolting out. Now on the streets of Austin, he wanders around, albeit aimlessly, searching for the patron.
Miz: “Chris?! Where the hell did you go, dude?! Come on, man!”
Fuck off!
Miz: “How about you do the same, buddy? I’m trying to find my friend! CHRIS, THE HELL DID YOU RUN OFF TO?!”
Didn't you hear me, fucknut?
Miz looks over to see an Austin alley hobo sitting by a trashcan fire.
Harry the Hobo: I said fuck off. Some decent people are trying to sleep. Who is this Chris you're looking for anyway?
Miz: “Dude with long-ish brown hair, somewhat scraggly facial hair, had a scarf I think? He did when I used to talk to him without the note stuff, anyways…”
Harry the Hobo: Oh, the gay one? He's usually down a couple blocks behind the dumpster where they throw out the doughnuts after a day. Nice place they've got there. Not him though. Messed up, man, living off day-old doughnuts.
Miz: “The...gay one? Ah, no matter, just-thank you.”
Harry the Hobo: He left a couple days ago. Legend has it they threw him in a limo. Must be nice to get kidnapped in that nice of a car. Patrick in there, his brother Phil got kidnapped in a Used 2004 Ford Taurus. It was the most terrible thing I've seen since that cat jumped off a building on 32nd…
Harry doesn't ever stop talking, but he at least gets out of earshot of everybody who matters in our particular tale. After that, Miz is back to worrying and rushes off from the hobo, still in search of his friend, searching wherever he can to try and find him.
Miz: “Where the hell is he...Goddamnit Chris, you may not think it, but all I want to do is help you out! Yet you just...can’t take it, apparently!”
The city of Austin. Not a good place to get lost in. Even now, police sirens are going off everywhere. They're getting closer. Closer. CLOSER. Suddenly, Miz is surrounded by at least six cop cars, all full to the max capacity.
Miz: “W-What?! What the hell is all of this?! What did I even do?”
Sheriff Tyler: Relax, kid. We're just hitting up the doughnut place you're standing in front of.
Miz: “Oh, j-jesus christ, the sirens scared me I guess...wait, doughnut pla-”
Miz turns around, and his eyes are somewhat assaulted by the lights of the store in front of him, which very much so looks like a doughnut store.
Miz: “W-Wait, wait! This is the place! This is where he said he was! Chris, where the hell are you?”
Miz decided to walk around the building, and eventually spots an old lady opening a door and tossing a perfectly stale batch of holey discs into a large green dumpster. He thinks nothing of this, until he notices something. Specifically, a hand. Miz rushes over to where he saw the hand. Trepidatiously, he looks over and tries to keep his voice somewhat low.
Miz: “Chris...that you, dude?”
Emerging from the vicinity of where the hand once stood comes, of all things, a paper airplane, which takes flight around the alleyway before crashing into a nearby building and crumbling up. Miz catches it and saves it from death by puddle, and the note reads as follows:
I’m serious. You're going down the wrong path.
If you turn back, all will be forgiven.
If you stick with me any longer, I will have no sympathy for you when it all falls apart.
Miz: “Chris...if this ACTUALLY IS you, Chris...if I seeked you down, tracked you down all this goddamn way to the random ass alleys of Austin, Texas, do you think I want your sympathy?! I could legitimately not give any less care about your sympathy towards me, what I care about is the fact you’re cutting yourself off from someone who actually tries to care about you, and is trying to help you!”
When Miz is done, there is a silence. Silence, for an Austin, Texas alleyway at like 2am or something whatever. The point is, everything is silent.
And now an empty doughnuts box is flying through the air. It lands at Miz's feet. The ingredients label is peeled off, and it instead reads this:
If you truly care, if you truly want to help me…
Come on back.
Miz accepts the invitation, journeying his way to behind the dumpster to see a sight nobody ever wants to experience: Chris Jericho, sitting Native American-style, 3 doughnuts in his lap, shooing away a squirrel trying to invade his territory. It's not a pretty sight. Neither party says a word, but somebody has to break the silence. And what breaks it isn’t actually a word, but a whimper. Coming from Miz, specifically, as he is actually on the verge of crying from having to see what has become of his friend.
Miz: “Well…..I...I came here, I care...please, Chris, let me help you...please?”
Jericho looks back at the man he used to call his closest friend. In that moment, he thinks back to everything. Every single moment from the past nine months flashes before his eyes at once. The floodgates break down like walls, and there's only thing he can do.
Chris Jericho: ... Let's go.
Go? Go where? Does it matter? No. All that does in this moment is what happens. Chris stands up and hugs it out with the only person that resembles a friend, the one person that has stuck it out, the one person he can take on the world with, the one person that can help him.
And that is damn beautiful.
Fin.
Graves: Oh, great, here he is again.
Philips: Black's fresh off of a title win at Judgement Day, and he's promised a little more than a title celebration here tonight.
Miz: “Every time…..every time…..every time…..”
“Every, GODDAMN time, that I get an opportunity, a moment to shine, a chance at having a CHANCE to finally win a match that matters...there is somebody there. Somebody there to laugh in my face, to beat me down and once again prove that those...those assholes all those years ago...that they were right.”
“That guys like Hardcore Holly, Chris Benoit, and JBL…..were right about me. That I was a nobody, a loser, a college dropout who should’ve stuck to reality TV. Another way to keep me from grabbing that so-called brass ring, the fabled object that everybody should strive to grab because once you have it shows that you, as a wrestler, have made it in the industry.”
The anguish and frustration is building up within Mike as he keeps going, his eyes even welling up with tears.
”Another set of people to keep me down in the midcard where I supposedly belong, another group of guys to come in and put me down and say “hey, Mike, better luck next time!” More ways for them to tell me that I don’t belong in their league, that I am in over my head, that I have no right being where I am, that I am just handed opportunity after opportunity. And that all they do is protect the world from having to see someone who is undeserving becoming a champion…..”
The frustration wins out in the end, as Miz shoots up from the chair, picks it up, and tosses it into a locker, the metal clanging against each other as the chair falls and the door to the locker jolts open from the force, permanently breaking it.
”And they just get away with it because I’m the smart one, I’m the easy one, I’m the one who can’t back up any of the words that he says because it all ends up the exact same way: being held right back down to where I was while those on top get to sit pretty for the entire world to view and react to, whether it be with cheers or boos. And I can stand here and say I am sick and tired of it, that I’ve had enough but what the hell does it matter? If it all ends the exact same, why should I even be bothering with this? If I’m supposed to be an A-Lister, a Hollywood star, why don’t I just…..why don’t I just go do another movie?! Why don’t I leave, go do another film and never come back to the UWF, since at least then the fans will be happier to not hear my mouth run with false courage week after week after week, just for it all to end in another disappointment of a pay-per-view match!”
After a few seconds, Miz pulls out his cell phone, beginning to dial up the number of the network executive he met with earlier, but is cut off by Stone Cold entering the locker room, looking a bit more intense than usual. Austin and Miz have a staredown as Miz puts away his phone.
Stone Cold: I jus’ so happened ta’ be walking by when I heard ya in here and decided ta’ stop an’ listen. And ta’ be quite honest with ya, what I heard made me sick to my damn stomach. Lemme ask ya somethin’, kid. When Stone Cold was an active wrestler here in the You Dubya Eff, do you know how many times someone tried ta’ put the screws ta’ my success? Do you know how many times over the years, even datin’ back ta’ You See Dubya, that I got my ass jumped and attacked the same way you jus’ did at Judgment Day?
It’s a lot, son. A whole damn lot. And hell yeah, there were times I wanted ta’ throw my hands up and give management that double middle finger but I didn’t. You can’t either, and there’s a few reasons for that. For one, yer too damn talented. You might be carving out an additional niche with the Hollywood thing but you an’ Stone Cold both know that yer bread an’ butter is here. Yer passion is here.
Secondly, I need ya. With Sweeney pulling another shortcut out of his ass ta’ keep that championship and beefin’ up his allies and Rick Rude runnin’ around with his group a’ bottom feeders, Stone Cold needs some muscle on his side, so ta’ speak. If I was here with a talent contract, I’d grab some whoopass and go open it up on every last one of ‘em but I’m here ta’ be General Manager so the occasional Stone Cold Stunner notwithstanding, I’m gonna need someone else ta’ do the dirty work.
Remember who the hell you are. Yer the most must-see superstar in the You Dubya Eff. The got dang top a’ the, “A-List”. Remember that and continue ta’ prove that and one day, sure as my middle finger’s itchin’ when I’m not holdin’ it up and there’s cold beer on hand wherever I go, you’ll be the champion and unlike that spineless bastard Sweeney, you’ll defend it honestly.
Miz is actually a bit shook at hearing what Austin has to say, surprised at what is being told to him.
Miz: "You...heh, who would've thought. Never would think that, of all people, it'd be you who brings me back down to my roots, so to speak. I mean...you're right."
Miz postures up from this, trying to look a tad bit more presentable as if he wasn't just a mental wreck.
Miz: "But Sweeney.....who does he have on his side now? Rude, Bischoff, Styles, O'Reilly, Edge, and Christian, right? So that's...what, 7 versus 2 right now? Not to mention all of the mindless lackies that Rude and Bischoff seem to have, and whoever else decides to join them later on? Not to mention that damn referee.."
Miz: "But even then, we need to find some others willing to be joining us because, while I'm not doubting that I can help lead a charge against those guys, it'll always be nice to have a few more guys on our side, no? I mean, I'm sure that there have been some guys on the roster either wanting to prove themselves or pretty damn pissed at Sweeney's bullshit these past few months, right?"
Stone Cold: Damn right. There’ll be more we scrounge together, I just had ta’ get you outta yer own head first. I’m not the biggest pep talk guy, but ya needed one.
Austin looks around.
Now clean this up, would ya?
As the logo is seen, things go live to the inside of the arena as pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the Revolution fans in attendance before panning to the commentary table where Corey Graves and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Tom Phillips: Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the first Revolution of 2019! I’m Tom Phillips.
Corey Graves: And I’m Corey Graves. Well, Tom, Judgment Day has come and gone and what a show it was.
Tom Phillips: Memorable but one could argue it’s for all the wrong reasons, Corey, as Sweet ‘n Sour Inc. and the Anti-Austin Alliance were all over it and cheated to retain not one, but two championships.
Corey Graves: Well tonight we’ll hear from both groups and not only that, a representative from each team will compete in our main event when Sweet ‘n Sour’s Edge teams up with the Intercontinental Champion Rick Rude of the Anti-Austin Alliance to take on The Miz and Elix Skipper.
Tom Phillips: And that’s not the only match on deck, folks. In a clash between former Television Champion and hopeful Television contender Drew Gulak takes on Jay White.
Corey Graves: Speaking of the Television Championship, the new champ Aleister Black will be taking on Baron Corbin.
Tom Phillips: And in our opening contest, it’s the debut of Sami Callihan as he goes toe-to-toe with, “King Nothing” Triple H.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, already in the ring. From Bellefontaine, Ohio. Weighing in at two hundred pounds. Sami...Callihan!
Sami poses for the crowd as they give the appropriate reaction.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
HAIL! HAIL!
As the chant begins over the arena's soundsystem, the fans take it up, and it resonates loudly even as Avenged Sevenfold's "Hail to the King" commences in earnest. Soon the man arrives himself, King Nothing, walking out from the back.
Tony Chimel: From Greenwich, Connecticut. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-five pounds. Triiiiiple...H!
Pausing at the top of the ramp, he surveys the chanting masses — his "subjects" — and then marches his way down to the squared circle, entering it only after scraping his boots on the apron.
As the two men look at each other and prepare for the match ahead, the ring bell sounds again.
DING DING!
Callihan runs straight over to the other side of the ring, clubbing in forearms, one after another after another after another. Triple H retreats to the corner, and continues to get hammered on, but suddenly, he shoves Callihan back to the other side of the ring. Triple H waves his finger to discourage that rush on him.
Corey Graves: “Looks like things are going to go how King Nothing wants it in this match!”
He allows Callihan to get back up to his feet, and he waits slowly for him. Triple H then locks up with Sami Callihan in the middle of the ring, and quickly switches into a headlock. Triple H then grabs the arm and whips Callihan over to the ropes.
Triple H then clubs him down with a clothesline knocking him down to the mat. He then grabs the arm of Callihan and then clotheslines him back down to the mat once more. Keeping a hold of the arm he then whips Callihan over to the ropes.
Triple H returns with lifting Callihan up in the air and then slamming him down with the Spinebuster. After this, Triple H then heads around the ring, rallying up the crowd in his way. He then takes Callihan back up to his feet and then hits the ropes to return to Callihan.
He then takes his head and hits the harsh facebreaker knee smash on Callihan on the rebound and makes him crash down to the ground. Triple H then leans out and hits his signature pose.
Tom Phillips: “Completely one sided so far, will Sami Callihan even have the chance to rebound?!”
Triple H then underhooks both of the grounded arms of Callihan and drags him up to his feet, setting him up for a big move. He then lifts up Callihan and drops him with the King’s Justice. He then hooks the leg.
One…
Two…
Three!
DING! DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, Triple H!”
Triple H gets his hand raised by the referee, and then heads to the second turnbuckle to pose to his adoring fans. Callihan rolls out of the ring in shame and the camera quickly switches back to the posing victor.
As Callihan and Triple H are leaving the ring, soon a tune, as familiar as it is foreign, rolls out of the PA, stoking the fans’ curiosity.
Graves: What’s this?
Phillips: I don’t know, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this…
Soon enough, it all becomes clear. Four UWF superstars walk out onto the ramp - Larry Sweeney, Kyle O’Reilly and their new associates, Edge and Christian. The atmosphere in the room changes like a light switch switched. They couldn’t possibly be booing louder or more spitefully. The sight of Sweeney still carrying all that gold (well, technically speaking Kyle’s holding the two non-world caliber belts) is heinous enough. Seeing the beloved tag team icons as treacherous turn-coats is even worse.
Despite the hate raining down from all sides, the four men look to be enjoying themselves - even proud to be garnering such a strong reaction. They’re amused, if nothing else. They all head on down to the ring, Kyle rushing to grab them microphones while they step up into the squared circle. Icky Thump blares on a while longer, but soon enough, Larry Sweeney calls for it to cut out so he can kick things off.
Sweeney: Well well well… ain’t we a site for sore eyes! Ahahahaha!
The dastardly cackle resonates through the disgusted arena.
Sweeney: I don’t know how many more times I’m gonna have to come out and here and do the “hate to say I told ya so” spiel… but what the hell? Tonight’s as fine a night as any! Haha!
Imagine being stupid enough to have beared witness to everything I accomplished in 2018 and still think that there was a chance that the Miz was going to beat me! Unbelievable! The worst offender, of course, was little Mikey himself. He can argue his D-list Hollywood status till he’s blue in the face - I think that it is now entirely incontestable that his wrestling is B-level at best.
There’s a place for him in this company jerking curtains, sure, but you dummies all got carried away in taking him seriously as a legit main event kinda fella. Enablers, every last one of ya’s, and you oughta be ashamed. I mean… did ya see the look on his face after I creamed him? He was downright devastated! Hahaha! Yeah! That’s on you…. That’s on you.
I warned ya, but did anyone listen? Nope. Nobody ever listens. Especially one Mister Stone Cold Steve Austin…
The people cheer the name drop. Larry just sneers and goes on.
Sweeney: Oh, fans of his, huh? Well newsflash, ya hapless mark dopes - that drunky, redneck buffoon is trying his damndest to tank this entire show and sabotage my historic championship reigns. He’s a petty, jealous schmuck and he oughta be put out to pasture on his ranch like any other old horse that’s way past its prime!
It’s like the Titanic out here these days, I can’t tell if he’s the iceberg or the incompetent captain at the wheel, but either way, we’re all in big trouble unless someone does something. And so, ladies and gentlemen… I proudly present to you… that something!
The Triple-Champ melodramatically gestures towards Edge and Christian, like a game-show host unveiling a new car.
Sweeney: This… ahaha…. Yes, THIS! THIS is the the solution. This is the answer. This is the future of the UWF. Folks, you are looking at a united front. This is the new, New Deal. This is the partnership that’s gonna send Stone Cold packing, take control and drive this puppy into a new era of sports entertainment! Since day one, I’ve told you that big changes were comin’! Now here they are! Ahahahaa!
Larry laughs his face off while the Diabetic Dragon takes over.
KO’R: Steve, you thought you were so clever, keeping me away from ringside and stacking up the lumberjacks with a bunch of tools and asswipes that are all just as hopeless and bitter as you…
But did you plan work? Uhhhhhhhhhh, nope! There’s no outsmarting us, Steve. You can’t get an angle, here. You’re not equipped to go toe-to-toe with Sweet n’ Sour, cause you’re just a dumb hick with a goofy accent and no new tricks up his sleeve. Did you honestly think we’d just let you hand Miz the Undisputed UWF Championship the same way you handed him the title match in the first place? Pffft, gosh you’re stupid. So stupid.
We’re always going to be better. We’re always going to smarter. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men standing at ringside, and we still came out on top. You failed. We won. And hey, all credit where it’s due. Tonight… this moment… all made possible by the single greatest tag team in the history of professional wrestling… Edge and Christian!
Kyle steps aside so that E&C can take the floor. The duo clap for a moment, showing their praise for their brand new business partners, before Christian brings the microphone up to his own lips.
Christian: You know O’Reily, it’s a crying shame that there’s not more people of your generation like you in that locker room! As a matter of fact, these fat, lousy, no good, unappreciative slobs in this arena could take a lesson in respecting talent!
It’s cheap, but an effective maneuver to grab some heat for the newly formed faction.
Christian: But let’s be honest, we didn’t come out here just to show these non believers true talent. They’ll be seeing plenty of us within the coming months. Although we run on a tight schedule running with the man of the hour, we’ve allowed the drunkard Stone Cold Steve Austin a bit of our valuable time, so we’ll give the people the facts that matter!
You want answers, we’ve got facts, jack. The most indisputable fact is that we helped two crucial factors of this brand. Number one being Larry Sweeney’s reign of terror on this promotion! It was Edge’s pleasure to spear that pervert The Miz out of this world and continue the greatest run with the UWF Championship, while, number two, saving our careers!
Let’s face it, if we were a couple of goody two shoes on Steve Austin’s brand, then suffice to say, we’d be donezo! What you are all looking at is permanent! Cemented in stone! You may not like it, but you’ll have to accept it! The loyal Peeps and Edgeheads are already behind us. That is the group that knwos what’s good for ‘em!
The crowd boo them once again, but Edge is quick to pick up his mic and retort, as Christian stands back.
Edge: Forever, bozos! Christian, Sweeney, O’Reily, you’ll have to forgive this crowd. It’s hard for them to accept the reality of their favorite stars being put to dust by us. They want to debate our ideals and hope that we’re taken down, but look at the gold that’s in this ring. Kenny Omega jumping off a cage and winning a belt? Whatever! The real highlight of Judgement Day was ol’ Larry here picking up a guaranteed win on The Miz, we knew it was going to happen, and I was ensuring that this company had at least one sensible world champ! Larry, you might be giving me and Christian the credit here, but trust me when I say without your brains, this wouldn’t have happened. Christian and I made the right call. Steve Austin can kiss our collective asses, because from here on out, we RUN this company.
W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Eric Bischoff steps out from behind the curtain with Joey Styles flagging behind him, saluting the fans as they leap to their feet to boo him out of the arena. Bischoff simply points to his smiling and dimples as he adores the fans that hate him so dearly.
Bischoff locks eyes with the four men in the ring and points at them with a smile before giving a double thumbs up. Bischoff walks down the aisle and enters the ring, pulling a microphone from his jacket pocket.
Bischoff: Wow! I think I got just as much of a warm reception from these fans as you guys did. Now, I don’t know about you guys...but I have nothing but love for these people!
Bischoff stops as the crowd begins to boo again. He smiles his classic smile and waits for the noise to die down.
Bischoff: Mr. Sweeney, allow me to be the first person outside of the New Deal to congratulate you on retaining your championship. I can see that Kyle here is just as proud of you as the rest of us. I know that feeling of pride of seeing your client retain his championship. As for the two of you...I would also like to congratulate you for coming to your senses and stepping out of the umbrella of impending doom that is the dark cloud hovering over Revolution...that dark cloud being none other than Stone Cold Steve Austin.
The fans, yet again, let out a cheap pop at the mention of the name. Bischoff rolls his eyes.
Bischoff: Ya know...if you people were even the slightest bit intelligent, you would understand that you are booing the wrong people and cheering for the wrong man. The men standing before you right now, along with my client who will join us in just a short time, are the men who are trying to save this promotion. It doesn’t deserve to be saved, given the schmucks that are the so-called board of directors as well as the idiots that we have running the shows as GMs...but because each of us love this great sport, we would hate to see it die for all of the wrong reasons. That is why we are attempting to solve the issue that is Stone Cold. Instead of booing us, you should all be thanking us, but we understand that some of you are mentally incapable of grasping that concept.
Bischoff hands the microphone to Styles.
Styles: Ladies and Gentlemen...My name is Joey Styles and I am the unbiased, unaffiliated, official voice of the Anti-Austin Alliance. Instead of telling you about what this man has accomplished, I will let him walk out here and tell you himself...please help me in welcoming the reigning, defending, 4th longest reigning Intercontinental Champion….”Ravishing” Rick Rude!
Rude wastes no time walking down the ramp and entering the ring. Styles and Bischoff sit on the middle ropes to hold it down for Rick as a show of respect as he enters the ring. Rude shakes the hands of Bischoff and Styles. He walks up to face Sweeney. The two have a stare down for a moment before Rude extends his hand and shakes the hands of all members of the New Deal. The crowd is booing to a point to where Rude’s music can barely be heard. Rude takes the microphone from Styles.
Rude: What I’d like to have right now...is for all of the dashing...cunning...sophisticated...physically immaculate men standing in the ring right now to raise up their right hands and give themselves a pat on the back for jobs well done.
They all follow Rude’s instructions as the crowd boos on.
Rude: Not what you all expected is it? But, wait...did you pay attention to what Mr. Styles said right before I came out? The 4th longest reigning Intercontinental champion of all time? Do you know what that means? It means that I have defended this title time and time again, longer than the man that I took this belt from, the Miz...it means that out of the 18 reigns that this belt has been through, it has stayed around my waist for all but three men. In eight days, my reign will be bumped up to the 3rd longest reign. It means that in just a few short months come Wrestlemania, I will be the longest reigning Intercontinental champion of all time.
But I’m not out here to hog all the spotlight, oh no. I’m out here to celebrate each of our victories. You see, each of us standing here tonight, with the exception of Mr. Styles, have personally been held back or victimized by one Stone Cold Steve Austin. The board of directors, as you all well know, doesn’t seem to care. Mr. Bischoff, Mr. Styles, and myself had already taken matters into our own hands to deal with this issue...it seems that Mr. Sweeney and his associates have done the same thing. Gentleman, you can see that we weren’t lying when we said that something needed to be done about the Stone Cold regime. I am glad to see that we are not alone in taking this issue seriously.
Austin...I warned you. I told you that Elix Skipper would be just another statistic for my record. Now that he is gone, what else do you have to throw at me? Judgment Day was just one of many victories to come for each of us here in the ring...Eric?
Rude hands the microphone off to Bischoff.
Bischoff: Austin...we warned you. We gave you a chance to cease and desist..but no, you being the rebellious drunkard that you are, you’re dead-set on getting that belt off of Rick Rude’s waist. You’re bound and determined to give all of us hell. Well, I hate to be the one to give you this big reality check...but finally others are starting to give that hell right back to you. Your days of intimidating us, holding us back, and abusing your power are long gone Austin. There’s not a damn thing that you can do about it either...and that’s the bottom line, cuz we said so!
As the infamous glass shatters and the equally as infamous theme music follows, the crowd comes unglued as the General Manager of Revolution, Stone Cold Steve Austin, makes his way down the ramp quickly, microphone already in hand. Austin enters the ring and raises his microphone as his music stops abruptly.
Stone Cold: Admittedly I should’ve known better than ta’ give you jackasses this much time ta’ talk on my damn show, but after Judgment Day especially, there were things I wanted ta’ get to the damn bottom of! Well now ya done pissed Stone Cold off more than he already was, because while ya seem ta’ be in agreement that you don’t like Stone Cold bein’ in power and think the grass’d be greener if I didn’t make it my stomping grounds, you haven’t answered the got dang question I wanted answered.
Austin walks over to Sweeney.
Look at me. And I don’t mean from behind yer “Crocodile Rock” sunglasses either, take them sumbitches off and really look at me.
Sweeney removes the glasses, unamused by Austin’s bossiness.
Is Sweet ‘n Sour Inc., (What?) Or the New Deal. (What?) Or whatever you wanna call this group of chicken shits... (What?) In cahoots with the Anti-Austin Alliance?
Austin turns to Kyle O’Reilly
Are ya in bed with ‘em? Your ringleader over there looks like he gets into bed with a lotta’ guys. Is there a partnership going on?
Austin now turns to Edge and Christian.
Either of you wanna answer Stone Cold? Come on, Christian, ya creepy little bastard. Speak up. Let’s hear it, Edge, spill the damn beans.
Austin walks over to Rude now.
Maybe I’m asking the wrong person. So let’s hear it champ: are you sons a’ bitches some kind a’ In Dubya Oh throwback where everyone that wants ta’ tell the authority figure ta’, “eat a fat dick, we’re takin’ over” can do so or did you jus’ happen ta’ put the screws ta’ Stone Cold Steve Austin at the same time?
Austin gets in Bischoff’s face now.
The longer I go without getting an answer, son, the itchier this finger a’ mine gets ta’ open up a can of whoopass. So tell me, what the hell have you put together? You tryna’ rise up outta Resistance’s ashes and run a brand how you think Stone Cold oughta be runnin’ things? You an’ these jackoffs all one unit? Well while you mull over how ta’ answer that in that little pea brain a’ yers, here’s an abuse of power yer really not gonna like.
Austin points at Styles.
Your little ass was never on the damn payroll so as far as I’m concerned, you can get ta’ steppin’. You’re fired!
The fans cheer this but the men in the ring do not approve. As Joey leaves the ring, Bischoff angrily shoves Stone Cold. Austin takes a few steps back as a result, looks down at his body, then at Eric.
You shouldn’t a’ done that.
Austin hits Bischoff in the head with his microphone as he goes down to the mat. Rude steps up as a result and takes a swing but Austin blocks it with his forearm and lands a shot with his other fist. O’Reilly comes over next but Austin blasts him with a punch before landing another on Rude, taking the Intercontinental Champion down with a Lou Thesz Press as he begins lighting into him with punches.
Tom Phillips: Well answer or not, Stone Cold’s had enough!
Corey Graves: That ignorant drunk! He said so himself earlier tonight that he couldn’t put hands on the talent! What the hell does he call this?
As Austin gets up, he throws an elbow into O’Reilly’s face, then takes him down with a lariat. Christian goes for Austin but gets kicked in the stomach and hit with a Stunner! As Stone Cold gets up though, the numbers become too much as Edge and Sweeney both ambush him.
Chants of, “Austin! Austin!” are heard as Sweeney and Edge put the boots to the, “Texas Rattlesnake”. Sweeney goes and picks up one of his titles as he tells Edge to stand Austin up. As he does, Austin turns and kicks him in the stomach, dropping him with a Stunner. As Austin gets up, Sweeney is about to hit him with his title but instead drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring.
The crowd boos as Sweeney leaves up the ramp. Stone Cold’s inviting him back to the ring but Larry shakes his head, telling him, “You’ve already dug your own grave” as Revolution heads elsewhere.
"and NEEEEEEEEEEW UWF Television Champion, Aleister Black!"
The titantron cuts to a video of Aleister Black winning the Television Championship, intercut with occult imagery. Finally, the camera tilts up, revealing Aleister sitting in an armchair, the masked figure whose identity has been a mystery for weeks standing menacingly behind him.
?: When he began to reign, as soon as he had seated himself on his throne, he struck down all the house of Baasha. He did not leave him a single male of his relatives or his friends.
Aleister looks up, flicking his hair back and looking out into where the sky would be had they been outside.
Aleister: Five weeks. Five men. Five victims. Five wins. Five is said to be the number of grace, and so I've decided to grace this company by giving Baron Corbin, the lonely wolf, low-level scum who hangs out in catering, an opportunity to prove that he ever had what it takes to begin with. And for someone who claims to be the "eyes and ears of the UWF," you are blind, you are deaf, and you aren't fit for the big leagues. When I keep this title for a year, and then two years, and then three years and four, and I go on to win every title I can, I'll prove to you, Corbin, that I don't need this title. This title. Needs. Me. It needed me since the day Drew Gulak got his hands on it, and now that I have it, it has been reborn...
Aleister stops looking up and stares directly into the camera. He taps the arm of the chair idly.
Aleister: Wedergeboorte...
I control this title. I decide its future. I will make sure that you head straight into injury yet again, and I will make sure you don't get CLOSE to getting this.
Aleister gets up, seemingly looking at something else off-screen? He walks to his right, as the camera pans with him to reveal... the Television hanging up by a chain. And hanging from each side of the strap is a marionette version of Jay White and Drew Gulak! He points to the marionettes before speaking about.
Aleister: Because I have spent month after month trying to get back into the UWF, and to beat the best of the best... and, right now, all I'm face to face with is the worst of the worst. Baron Corbin, you don't concern me. You don't scare me. You just can't scare someone who has full control. With this title comes control. Control over this brand. Control over this division. Control over this company. I have absolute control over the people, the... sad, sad people who dictate their entire lives around just a single belt. Those who just can't look ahead and see the long-term of things, and what they're going to do when they face the reality that taking this belt from me is not a hardship, but an impossibility. I control them. Drew Gulak? Jay White? Nothing more than puppets. And I look forward to seeing who will become the 7 in 7-0 tonight. In fact, I'd just like to run down the two who will fight tooth and nail just to have a chance at a chance to lose to me, and I'd like to do so... right.. now.
Firstly, Drew, you just plain and simple don't have the mindset of a champion at all. You're hollow, your career is founded on lies and misinformation, your soul is missing and in its place are maggots. We all know the formula, Drew, you come out here, memorize some words straight out of a thesaurus, and spout out something that might vaguely resemble a promo, and somewhere intermittently you might mention how you are one of the only 100+ day reigning Television Champions. But it isn't are, anymore, is it Drew? It's were. You have lost the only thing that set you apart, and what are you now? Simply put, Drew, you are nothing. You lost the title that you've based your entire career on, and if you try to get it back, I'll prove something that everyone out there already knows. I. Can destroy. You.
Aleister ponders for a bit, before cracking a bit of a smirk.
Aleister: But you, Jay White? Well, let's just say... we have unfinished business here. You see, I'm not satisfied with beating you once. I'll admit it right here. I let you get too much offense on me in our last match. And I'm done with rewatching that match over and over again and watching you get the best of me in some facets, even if I did win. I'm tired of watching your smug face, thinking that you had me beat.
Aleister drops the smirk to stare directly into the camera, almost burning holes through it.
Aleister: Next time we fight. I will not let that happen. I will make you feel true pain. And when I rewatch it, I'll see you, decimated in the middle of the ring, with my arm raised. Oh, and sorry about Veda.
I pity you two. I pity you because you are two of the people who don't know who I am and what I'm capable of. Every week I've gotten nothing but, "You're a lot like that Vinny Marseglia," instead of, "You're a lot better than that Marseglia," despite me making examples of everyone the UWF has to offer. And while you love to talk a lot about who I am and how you're better, you know damn well that none of you have the gall, the will to fight me. To step into that ring, and fight me. And if you do, if that paycheck is just enough to validate you making the worst decision you've ever made in your lives, you still know that you will hardly give me a challenge, or make me break a sweat.
Aleister pulls out a pair of scissors, looking at the strings holding the puppets to the title.
Aleister: No matter which one of you faces me, I will show you that you are attached to this title. I will show you that I have control over you, and your moves, and your emotions and your fears and your decisions, and I can end your careers at any time. As for me and my acquaintance here... We'll keep going. I'll keep this title, and him? He'll break his way into the company. You will know his name very, very soon. And by the end of this month, you won't be able to forget it.
The. End.
He begins cutting the strings on the marionettes, letting them both fall off the belt, hitting the floor with a thud. It cuts to a different shot, farther away this time. He takes the belt off the chain before he and the masked man start leaving the area. Aleister steps on one of the marionettes as they leave, pushing it and crushing it into the ground. The camera moves in to reveal it's Jay White, head half crushed.
The titantron fades into a Revolution graphic of Aleister Black with "Later" written under it.
Tom Phillips: Yes, you're reading it right, folks. Later on tonight, Aleister Black celebrates his championship win at Judgement Day. What will he have in store for us?
Corey Graves: Yeah, unfortunately. Do his promos even mean anything? All they do is give me headaches.
Tom Phillips: Well, Corey, you might not be the only one with a headache soon, because we're also getting Aleister Black vs. Baron Corbin. Will the lone wolf be able to set his recent loss to Jay White right, or will the Dutch Destroyer claim yet another victim?
Corey Graves: Great, three for the price of one...
The titantron goes back to the standard Revolution graphic as the crowd prepares for the action up next.
As we move on from the previous segment, we are backstage where we are greeted by Tommaso Ciampa, he is here to put the whole roster on notice.
Tommaso Ciampa: "A lot of people seem to think that in this company; there are some outstanding spectacles, outstanding athletes. You've got guys like Drew Gulak and Larry Sweeney. People say that they are an inspiration and they believe in them. To me, that's unbelievable. You know what I believe in? I believe in Tommaso Ciampa. I believe that when I enter the UWF ring for the first time, it will be unforgettable. I believe that I am going to steamroll through every single person that stands in my way and I believe going to expose every single person in this company for what they truly are. I'm here to make sure that this company gets what it deserves."
Ciampa takes a deep breath before continuing, he is not here to play around. He has a plan.
Tommaso Ciampa: "I'm going to change the landscape of the UWF. A lot of you probably think that I don't have a shot in this company and that's fine. You're entitled to your own opinions, even if they are utter bullshit. I didn't come to UWF to do the same old song and dance as these other assholes. If you think you know the definition of focused and determined then forget what you know because Tommaso Ciampa is going to rewrite the definition. You're going to witness something that you have never seen before. I'm here and I have a purpose; rid the UWF of the plague of people that are bringing this company down. UWF, I'm not here to just whoop ass and take titles. UWF, I am your saviour. I'm not just here for my own gain but I'm here for you too and I hope you're ready. There is not one person that I won't break down or rip apart to get what I want. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer but the problem is; you can't tell them apart these days so I'm not here to kiss ass or make friends. I want every single person in this company listening to me right now to prepare themselves. The show is called Revolution for a reason and finally that reason has arrived. Project Ciampa is a-go!"
Ciampa stands up and walks away from the camera leaving the UWF fans shook by his words, leaving quickly to keep them hot on their tails. Not only has he put the roster on notice, his plan has begun. As Ciampa gets further and further away from the camera the shot fades.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
The lights fade to black as the beginning of Out of the Black by Royal Blood breaks the silent suspense of the crowd. Mist begins cascading across the stage as nothing exists to light the stage other than the candles lining it and the light from the titantron.
The music begins slowly building up to Aleister Black's inevitable entrance. Various shots of the occult; summoning circles, all-seeing eyes, and the like, appear on the titantron, along with Aleister Black sitting cross-legged in the light of a stained glass window.
Aleister begins rising from the mist, stands there for a moment with his Television Championship, before calmly walking to the middle of the middle of the stage, staring out into the crowd blankly.
He starts walking down to the ring with a purpose, his nameplate appearing on-screen.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 215 pounds, from Amsterdam, Holland... Aleister... Black!
He pauses for a bit before the ring. He starts surveying his surroundings; the crowd, the ring, and the ringside area. He then takes a turn around the side of the ring opposite hard cam, climbing the stairs and launching himself over the top rope, landing in his signature seated position. He sits there for a couple of seconds, before getting back to his feet and moving to his own corner. Before the next man enters, he takes off his championship belt and hands it to an official outside.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
The arena becomes dark as all of a sudden hellish flames appear on the tron a dark noise is heard and all of a sudden the the guitar riffs hard and out from the darkness come one man. The eyes, and ears of the UWF Constable Baron Corbin. Fans in the arena boo as Constable Corbin comes out. Corbin has a smug look on his face as he comes out in his dress clothes.
Tony Chimel:From Kansas City, Missouri. At 6'8'' and 285 pounds. He is the eyes and ears of the UWF, Constable Baron Corbin!
Corbin is bobbing his head to the entrance music and as he raises the dark backgrund behind him and lights raise. The fans are just letting Corbin hear it but he doesn't care as he is soaking in the moment and looking arrogant doing so. Corbin gets in the ring, and he takes the center of the ring and raises his arms as fans boo. Corbins music dies down and Corbin is ready for his match to begin.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, Corbin gives Black a cocky smile, clearly unimpressed by his appearance or his accomplishments. He walks up and slaps the Television Champion, which doesn’t sit well at all as Aleister grabs him by the throat with one hand and pulls him in, looking furiously as Baron looks remorseful. While he’s being choked though, Corbin delivers a low punch to the body as Black releases his grip and doubles over in pain. Baron grabs him and looks to finish this early as he goes for the End of Days.
Baron gets up, smiling ear-to-ear, convinced that he successfully connected with the move but unbeknownst to him, the big man managed to roll through and get out of it as he’s sitting there in his infamous pose behind Corbin. He stands up and taps Corbin on the shoulder and as the Constable turns around, he’s leveled by a Black Mass! Black goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
At the last possible second, Corbin gets the shoulder up, still showing some fight. This doesn’t amuse the champion as he gets up and looks at Baron coldly before heading to the top rope. Black leaps off, connecting with a, Blood Moon Stomp as you can feel many people watching collectively wince at the impact.
Tom Phillips: That can’t be good for his ribs.
Corey Graves: I don’t think Black is going to be shaking Corbin’s hand after this one.
Aleister looks as Corbin is twitching on the mat. Black walks over to him and leans down to grab him but as he does, Baron rolls him up, looking to steal this one!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Black gets out of the pinning predicament furiously as the two men separate and are now standing across the ring from one another. Corbin reiterates to the, “Dutch Destroyer” that he thinks he’s just a guy with a belt as Black goes for another Black Mass but Corbin manages to reverse it into a Deep Six! As Baron laughs at his own cunning, Black merely sits up and crosses his legs as the smile on Corbin’s face vanishes.
The Constable is angry now as he kicks Black in the face, laying him out on the mat. Corbin begins delivering vicious stomps now before leading Black back to his feet and throwing him into the corner. Baron charges and sandwiches his opponent in the corner before grabbing Black as he makes the ascent up the turnbuckle and leads the Television Champion up with him.
Once both men are perched on the top, Corbin delivers a headbutt to make sure he stays dazed and then hooks him in position.
Tom Phillips: He can’t be thinking...
Corey Graves: I believe he is!
Baron hits the End of Days off the top rope as the crowd is in disbelief. Corbin gets up, his body a little shaken up by it, as he spits on the champion. The Constable sits an out of it Black up and then leads him to his feet. Corbin grabs his hand and begins to simulate a handshake between the two as a dazed Black appears to be falling off balance but he suddenly gets his footing back as he shoots an angry look at Corbin who looks shocked and petrified.
Black pulls his hand free and, before Baron can fully process the consequences coming for his arrogance, he’s blasted with a Black Mass! Aleister makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Aleister Black!
Black is handed his Television Championship as he slings it over his shoulder and sits down. He looks over at Corbin and shakes his head, then looks out at the crowd, patting the faceplate of his title as Revolution heads elsewhere.
The cameras fade in to a bar, specifically The Midnight Cowboy, located in Austin Texas. While the music in the joint sounds pretty nice and almost uplifting, in a weird sense, the mood of some of the patrons is near opposite as they drink away their various sorrows. Located right in the middle of the mellow hoopla is one specific patron that has made frequent appearances at the place, all ending the same way. The slamming of another glass, and Patrick, the bartender, making his way over.
Patrick: You know Chris, that's your fourth one yet. You've been here, what, fifteen minutes?
The patron just sits there, staring at his empty glass.
Patrick: Fine. Just know you're paying for this one. No more bailouts from me.
Patrick fills the patron's glass with a substance that would raise the rating of any television show. The patron watches on, sitting in cold silence. At this, the door to the bar swings open, and in walks a rather somber-looking Mike Mizanin, still angry at himself for the ending to Judgement Day. He looks around, before taking a seat next to the patron. Before Patrick can ask him about what his poison is, he glances over to the patron.
Miz: “Hey...don’t I know you from somewhere? I swear I’ve seen you before…wait, Chris?”
The patron tries to look away, focusing on anything else. He directs his attention to a television set straight out of the last decade, broadcasting a TMZ “report”.
John Smith: This revelation comes after the disgraced professional wrestler performed a “double-split”, first with his band, Fozzy, who have released their third straight single to top the hard rock charts, and then with his own family. His now ex-wife says: It's time [...] to move on.
Jessica Lockhart: Get those cameras outta my face! Nobody cares about what's going on between Chris and me! It's time for you idiot reporters to move on!
The television changes to ESPN, broadcasting a Texas Longhorns basketball game.
Patrick: Jeez, the things they put on TV nowadays.
Which leaves the patron with nothing to divert his attention to. Now, it's just him and Michael.
Miz: “I, uh, wanted to just say thank you...for earlier tonight, pulling people off of me during the lumberjack match.”
The patron reaches over for a pen, one of the kind with multiple colors, and a napkin from under an abandoned drink. He writes a note and passes it to the Miz.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Please leave me alone.
For your own good.
Miz: “...Come on, man, don’t do this. It’s hurricane, just...just let me try to be here for you-”
As Miz is talking, he is cut off by Patrick, who is looking somewhat impatient with Michael.
Patrick: Okay, come on man are you going to order something or no?
Miz: “Yeah, sure, get me uh….get me an Arnold Palmer.”
Patrick doesn’t make any fuss about it, instead quickly pouring the drink and sliding it over to Miz, who catches it and gives a quick acknowledgement to the barkeep.
Miz: “Come on, Chris, just...let us talk.”
The patron continues to look around, trying to find anything to excuse ignoring the Miz, but to no avail. Finally, he flips the napkin over and writes another note.
Everyone I love suffers.
Everything I touch is ruined.
Everything I do is done in vain.
I would much rather go through hell alone,
than drag somebody else down with me.
As Miz is reading, he looks up to him for a second, almost with sorrow in knowing this.
Miz: “Well, I mean...if it’s any consolation, I’m already pretty close to ruined without your...okay that was going to sound pretty damn weird, uh, what I’m trying to get at is that with or without you, I’m already getting screwed over every time I get a chance to shine, so why not have a friend to help through it?”
The patron looks up, contemplating what he's heard. He turns his napkin inside-out to write another message.
So you want me to help you?
Miz: “I want us to help each-”
The patron puts his hand up, and once again puts down a note to be read. Then, he slams down a $50 bill and hastily exits.
Tough shit.
Miz looks on, almost in disbelief, at his departure, beginning to chase after him but then stopping at the sound of a throat being cleared.
Patrick: Don’t you have something that ya-
Miz: “Shit, right my bad. Gimme a moment.”
Miz quickly downs the drink in a few swift gulps, and hands over a $10 to the barkeep before bolting out. Now on the streets of Austin, he wanders around, albeit aimlessly, searching for the patron.
Miz: “Chris?! Where the hell did you go, dude?! Come on, man!”
Fuck off!
Miz: “How about you do the same, buddy? I’m trying to find my friend! CHRIS, THE HELL DID YOU RUN OFF TO?!”
Didn't you hear me, fucknut?
Miz looks over to see an Austin alley hobo sitting by a trashcan fire.
Harry the Hobo: I said fuck off. Some decent people are trying to sleep. Who is this Chris you're looking for anyway?
Miz: “Dude with long-ish brown hair, somewhat scraggly facial hair, had a scarf I think? He did when I used to talk to him without the note stuff, anyways…”
Harry the Hobo: Oh, the gay one? He's usually down a couple blocks behind the dumpster where they throw out the doughnuts after a day. Nice place they've got there. Not him though. Messed up, man, living off day-old doughnuts.
Miz: “The...gay one? Ah, no matter, just-thank you.”
Harry the Hobo: He left a couple days ago. Legend has it they threw him in a limo. Must be nice to get kidnapped in that nice of a car. Patrick in there, his brother Phil got kidnapped in a Used 2004 Ford Taurus. It was the most terrible thing I've seen since that cat jumped off a building on 32nd…
Harry doesn't ever stop talking, but he at least gets out of earshot of everybody who matters in our particular tale. After that, Miz is back to worrying and rushes off from the hobo, still in search of his friend, searching wherever he can to try and find him.
Miz: “Where the hell is he...Goddamnit Chris, you may not think it, but all I want to do is help you out! Yet you just...can’t take it, apparently!”
The city of Austin. Not a good place to get lost in. Even now, police sirens are going off everywhere. They're getting closer. Closer. CLOSER. Suddenly, Miz is surrounded by at least six cop cars, all full to the max capacity.
Miz: “W-What?! What the hell is all of this?! What did I even do?”
Sheriff Tyler: Relax, kid. We're just hitting up the doughnut place you're standing in front of.
Miz: “Oh, j-jesus christ, the sirens scared me I guess...wait, doughnut pla-”
Miz turns around, and his eyes are somewhat assaulted by the lights of the store in front of him, which very much so looks like a doughnut store.
Miz: “W-Wait, wait! This is the place! This is where he said he was! Chris, where the hell are you?”
Miz decided to walk around the building, and eventually spots an old lady opening a door and tossing a perfectly stale batch of holey discs into a large green dumpster. He thinks nothing of this, until he notices something. Specifically, a hand. Miz rushes over to where he saw the hand. Trepidatiously, he looks over and tries to keep his voice somewhat low.
Miz: “Chris...that you, dude?”
Emerging from the vicinity of where the hand once stood comes, of all things, a paper airplane, which takes flight around the alleyway before crashing into a nearby building and crumbling up. Miz catches it and saves it from death by puddle, and the note reads as follows:
I’m serious. You're going down the wrong path.
If you turn back, all will be forgiven.
If you stick with me any longer, I will have no sympathy for you when it all falls apart.
Miz: “Chris...if this ACTUALLY IS you, Chris...if I seeked you down, tracked you down all this goddamn way to the random ass alleys of Austin, Texas, do you think I want your sympathy?! I could legitimately not give any less care about your sympathy towards me, what I care about is the fact you’re cutting yourself off from someone who actually tries to care about you, and is trying to help you!”
When Miz is done, there is a silence. Silence, for an Austin, Texas alleyway at like 2am or something whatever. The point is, everything is silent.
And now an empty doughnuts box is flying through the air. It lands at Miz's feet. The ingredients label is peeled off, and it instead reads this:
If you truly care, if you truly want to help me…
Come on back.
Miz accepts the invitation, journeying his way to behind the dumpster to see a sight nobody ever wants to experience: Chris Jericho, sitting Native American-style, 3 doughnuts in his lap, shooing away a squirrel trying to invade his territory. It's not a pretty sight. Neither party says a word, but somebody has to break the silence. And what breaks it isn’t actually a word, but a whimper. Coming from Miz, specifically, as he is actually on the verge of crying from having to see what has become of his friend.
Miz: “Well…..I...I came here, I care...please, Chris, let me help you...please?”
Jericho looks back at the man he used to call his closest friend. In that moment, he thinks back to everything. Every single moment from the past nine months flashes before his eyes at once. The floodgates break down like walls, and there's only thing he can do.
Chris Jericho: ... Let's go.
Go? Go where? Does it matter? No. All that does in this moment is what happens. Chris stands up and hugs it out with the only person that resembles a friend, the one person that has stuck it out, the one person he can take on the world with, the one person that can help him.
And that is damn beautiful.
Fin.
The lights fade to black as the beginning of Out of the Black by Royal Blood breaks the silent suspense of the crowd. Mist begins cascading across the stage as nothing exists to light the stage other than the candles lining it and the light from the titantron.
Aleister skips the formalities and instead decides to walk directly out from behind the set. He stops at the top of the stage, a look of disgust still clearly written on his face. He's also noticeably wearing formal attire instead of the usual ring attire. He begins walking down the ramp with the championship around his waist, yet he doesn't act any different from before he won it.
Graves: Oh, great, here he is again.
Philips: Black's fresh off of a title win at Judgement Day, and he's promised a little more than a title celebration here tonight.
He pauses for a bit before the ring. He starts surveying his surroundings; the crowd, the ring, and the ringside area. He then takes a turn around the side of the ring opposite hard cam, climbing the stairs and stepping through the ropes. Set up in the ring are a carpet and a pedestal for the title. Aleister takes off the title and lays it across the pedestal. He reaches out of the ring and receives a microphone from a ringside official. He walks into the middle of the ring, eyes set on the belt. He lays one hand on it, before looking back up to address the UWF universe as the lights go back to normal.
Aleister: You shouldn't be surprised. You shouldn't be surprised because I promised many things since the moment I debuted on Revolution, and I fulfilled each and every one of them. I won this title right here, and I beat every last man in my way before it. And I promise to you people right here right now that this isn't my peak. This isn't even close. You see, unlike Gulak, I don't have a peak. Where he sits in the lower card in limbo, I keep getting better. Where he takes this title and he holds onto it with all of his might in fear that he might fade into irrelevancy, I look further and further up the card. And where I look I see opportunity. Opportunity in this... Anti Austin situation. And in this era of six-on-one handicap matches against the champion and the private army they have at ringside, I see the opportunity to climb yet another rung in the ladder. To make my name known, and to put "Aleister Black" in the history books.
And I'm going to promise something else as well. I promise to bring relevancy this title in ways that Gulak could not. If I climb higher up the ladder in this company, I am bringing this title with me, and I won't let it make me what it made Gulak; lower card talent. So, in regards to where my future lies and this Anti-Austin situation...
He turns to the stage area to address someone back there.
Aleister: Steve Austin, in this wasteland of a show, I am the outlier. I don't need a militia of lower-card goons or a pair of washed-up Canadian nobodies to keep this title. Hell, put me in a handicap match with 5 of those underachieving, low-expectation subservants and I fear for what will happen to them. The legitimacy destroyed. The bodies broken. The careers lost. So, Stone Cold, the next time one of your main events is ruined by these deceivers, these clowns, keep my name in mind. Because it might just be more valuable than everyone in Sweeney's little... cavalcade combined.
But recent events have opened, well... let's just say "newer" opportunities for me. And that lead me to searching, looking for someone to match my talent, someone that I agree with, and I think I might have just found him... When I was little, I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid of what's in it. So I tried to find answers. I searched for asylum. I searched for what it was that lurked in the night, and after all of these years I found him...
So, I'd like to formally introduce the former masked man, future champion, human killing machine...
WALTER.
The violins at the beginning of Symphony No. 9 begin building up the arrival of Walter as fans go absolutely CRAZY for the debuting superstar! Aleister Black points at the stage area, obviously pleased at the overwhelming pop that the fans gave his new tag partner. WALTER eventually walks out and stands at the top of the stage, arms behind his back, killer stare still very much present.
Philips: No way, that's-
Graves: The ring general, Big Van Walter!
He begins walking calmly down the ramp, not reacting much to the fans singing along to his music. He reaches the ring, looking up at Aleister Black for a moment before circling around the ring and climbing the stairs. He steps into the ring, posing towards hard-cam as his music fades away. Fans begin chanting "Wal-ter! Wal-ter!" as he turns towards Aleister. Aleister holds up the microphone again to continue talking.
Aleister: This is Walter. This is the ringkampf. This is the bull from Vienna, and this is one of the only men who has brought me to my limit. We've fought together, we've fought against each other, and we have one thing in common. We hate the disrespect that has been running rampant around this company, and we'll beat it out of anyone, whether you like them or you hate them. We don't need any third parties or run-ins or rallying. All we need is ourselves, and that's all you are going to see from us in the future. Starting from this day forward, we destroy the disrespect, the sin that plagues this company, and all of the gold you saw on Sunday will be around our waists and on our shoulders. Today is just a taste of the foreseeable future, so you better get used to it, because it's anything but sweet and sour.
Aleister Black points at Walter, who pulls a microphone out from his coat to speak his first words in the company
WALTER: This sport was founded on respect, and it was founded on honor. We are here to restore that respect and we'll rip it out of the people who don't give it to us. Pray for your favorite superstar because after we're done with this company, none of them will be left.
Aleister: We are the new Sumerian Death Squad, and this is our company now. As for my opponent tonight, Baron Corbin, pick a god and pray.
Out of the Black hits the speakers yet again, as the crowd is still busy trying to figure out what just happened. Aleister picks up his title and begins leaving the ring with Walter. As Walter turns to leave the ring, the camera shows the 8-pointed star that acts as the Sumerian Death Squad's logo on the back of his coat where the Ringkampf logo would be. The two walk up the ramp, and as Walter walks backstage, Aleister stops at the top of the ramp to turn back to the ring and add one final throat-slit gesture before disappearing into the backstage area.
Philips: Emphatic statement here from Aleister Black and Walter. One's gotta wonder, what do they have in store for us in the future?
As Tom wonders this, it’s time for the next match-up.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
Hyper's "Lies" starts to blare through the speakers, as the arena soon begins to descend into jeers for the Switchblade. As soon as the beat kicks in, Jay White slowly emerges from the back. Jay stands there for a moment, an almost empty, cold, look on his face, before he extends his arms outward and makes two Shaka signs with his hands, swiping them across his throat to make a throat slitting gesture with the signs. White then heads down to the ring.
Tony Chimel: “Making his way to the ring, from Auckland, New Zealand, weighing 220 pounds - he is the Switchblade - Jay White!”
Switchblade continues on his way down the ramp with his arms wide open cockily, chiefly for the world to embrace him. The crowd reciprocates by flooding him with more boos. Now at ringside, White pivots right to make his way around the other side of the ring, hopping up on the ringside apron, methodically stepping through the ring ropes to get inside the ring.
White, now inside the ring, heads to his corner and takes off his Switchblade Jacket, handing it off to some ringside worker.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
The opening bars of the song play in showing Drew Gulak delivering speeches interspersed with people in submissions on the titantron. When the song kicks into full gear he walks out in a robe and wrestling gear holding up a sign with a logo promoting one of his various poilicies.
Tony Chimel: Coming down to the ring weighing at 193 lbs, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania he is The Master of 1000 Powerpoint Presentations, Drew Gulak!
He places the sign against the steel steps and climbs up to the apron and after wiping his feet on the apron. He goes in through the middle rope and slowly dresses down to his ring gear making sure to hand it in a neat pile to someone from the ring crew. From there he gets into his corner, and begins stretching waiting for the bell to ring.
DING DING!
With the sounding of the ring bell, White immediately goes on the offense as he connects flush with a superkick into Drew’s sternum. Gulak is launched backward into the nearest corner by this as Jay follows up with a running European Uppercut. As White backs away, Drew is holding his jaw with one hand and his chest with the other as the, “Switchblade” has a sinister smile form.
Jay goes for a toe kick but Gulak moves his hands quickly towards where he’s aiming and catches his foot as he delivers a kick to his opponent’s other shin before flipping him onto his back. Drew goes for a stomp as White rolls backward to avoid it, ending up back on his feet in a crouched position as he leaps at the, “Gentlemen” and goes for a flying lariat but Drew manages to lift his knee so that Jay’s solar plexus connects with it.
Drew also intercepts the arm as he does a full flip over it, his back and Jay’s arm hitting the mat hard as he turns his body, forcing the arm straight as he locks his own hands around Jay’s wrist and hand and locks his legs around Jay’s arm.
Tom Phillips: Well that’s a presentation that Drew doesn’t need any computer software for!
Corey Graves: Seriously Phillips, how many damn PowerPoint jokes do I have to hear before you either run out or get the hint that no one likes them and stop?
Despite his wrenching on the hold, White seems to be enjoying the pain as he’s laughing instead of crying out in agony. This throws Gulak off as he releases the hold and returns to his feet, creating a bit of distance. Jay returns to his feet as well, continuing to laugh before his expression turns cold and blank, seemingly without transition or effort and certainly without warning, as he reaches out and grabs Drew by the hair, pulling him in and taking him down with a lariat.
Gulak is back to his feet quickly as he grabs Jay’s hair this time, pulling him in and connecting with a headbutt. As White is dazed, Drew steps around so that he and Jay are now standing in opposite positions as he hooks his head with his arm and launches the, “Switchblade” into the corner with a snap suplex!
Tom Phillips: Ooh, what a Bataclan!
Corey Graves: Not exactly the Gentleman thing to do but I think it’s safe to say there’s no love lost.
White gets up holding his back but is laughing again as Gulak is up and looking a bit rattled by this. White’s expression suddenly changes again as it did earlier as he delivers a swift forearm to Drew’s midsection and returns the favor for the Bataclan as he hits an underhook suplex into the corner.
As Gulak is on the mat, Jay begins to quickly untie the middle turnbuckle pad, discarding it to the side after he succeeds. The referee tries to stop him as he goes to do the same to the top turnbuckle pad but Drew gets off the mat at that moment and hits Jay in the stomach with an uppercut. As White reacts to the hit, Gulak slips behind him quickly and connects with a belly-to-back suplex backbreaker.
Tom Phillips: Spine Splitter!
Corey Graves: Quite a trade-off these two athletes are having.
Drew grabs Jay now around the neck with his arm, the crowd cheering as they know the Gu-Lock is coming but as he comes upward, White manages to land a chop to the body as he throws himself upward and twists over and around, managing to reverse the submission attempt into a crucifix hold as he has Gulak’s left arm with his upper body and Gulak’s right arm with his legs.
As soon as the hold is applied, he begins laying into his opponent’s head with elbow shot after elbow shot after elbow shot. Soon, this dizzies Drew as he falls to the mat, Jay keeping the hold applied and continuing to strike with his elbow.
Tom Phillips: I don’t know how he pulled off that reversal but Drew’s in a bad place because he did.
Corey Graves: And with Jay’s recent attitude change, I wouldn’t expect those elbows to stop coming anytime soon.
As Gulak is busted open, Jay continues the onslaught, more and more blood spreading and pooling down with each hit. Soon, the referee has seen enough.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner as a result of referee stoppage, Drew Gulak!
White continues his attack despite the bell being rung though as the referee is trying to pry him off of Drew. Eventually Jay lets go and allows the ref to pull him off, throwing an elbow into the side of his head once he lands on his feet. As the referee goes down, the, “Switchblade” grabs Gulak and hits him with a Twisting Brainbuster before exiting the ring and heading up the ramp.
As Drew lies there in a pool of his own blood, Revolution heads elsewhere.
The scene shifts to a convention panel, a large crowd gathered for the event going on right now. Specifically, the Q&A of the cast of The CW’s Arrow, and sitting right front and center is none other than Oliver Queen himself, Stephen Amell. The Q&A still has not begun, however, as Amell raises up a hand to calm down the crowd.
Stephen Amell: “.....Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you are all excited for Season 8 of Arrow which comes out THIS SUMMER!~”
The fans in attendance, whether in cosplay or not, all cheer at the news, specifically the release date being so close to now.
Stephen Amell: “But, I’m sure you all know that there are still some surprises in store for the next season, and we have a little trailer put together that we want to show you guys!”
As Amell looks up towards the screen, the lights in the room they’re using for the panel dim to allow fans to see the screen easier, with the first shot of the video being the logo for Arrow…
followed up by the logo for the channel it is hosted on, The CW…
But it sits there, a bit too long for normal. As the actors on the panel look up to the screen, they are met with the W of the CW spinning around, slowly, until it is flipped completely. Then, in a sudden movement of the letter, it falls straight out of the logo, being replaced with one more well-known by UWF fans.
As some of the fans in attendance are marking out over this, others are left completely confused. Soon enough, the screen changes over, and now shows the face of one Mike Mizanin, eager to introduce himself to those unaware.
Miz: “Well, well, well...seems that there’s some kind of panel for Arrow, isn’t there? And what were you trying to play, Stephen? A trailer...no no no, I think these people deserve something a little more…..awesome, than that, don’t you think?”
More people, now recognizing Miz’s face whether it be from movies, advertisements, or media appearances, are cheering as he continues on.
Miz: “Yeah, yeah I think so as well, so I went ahead and talked to some of the bigwigs at The CW, and they were oh, so very proud to ink a deal, so I’d like to announce that, come Season 8 of Arrow, you guys will be seeing me, The Miz, on Arrow!”
Even Stephen is surprised at this, smiling at the new knowledge while the fans in attendance are cheering wildly.
Miz: “To be able to guest star on this show, it’s a treat really. Arrow has been one of the hottest superhero shows on television, but I figured that a show of this quality truly needed a Hollywood A-List level talent to push it over that edge, and who better than The Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History and the STAR of The Marine movies? Nobody, that’s who! And if you all thought that Cody Rhodes appearing here was a big guest star, then you haven’t seen anything yet, trust me!”
Stephen at this point is standing up, looking at the screen with the microphone, originally set up for guest Q&As, in hand.
Stephen Amell: “Wow...Mike! I...I didn’t get word of this news before anybody else here did, and I just want to say-”
Miz: “Stephen, please save it for when I’m on set, okay? Besides, don’t you have a trailer to be showing them anyways?”
Amell slinks back to his chair, sitting down.
Miz: “As for you guys, while I’m not entirely sure what episodes I’ll be appearing on, they are sure to become must-watch TV that week, all thanks to me, BECAUSE I’M THE MIZ…..AND IIIIII’MMMMM…..AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!!!”
The screen then blips off, the crowd cheering as the actors on screen range from excited to shocked, none of them being told this news beforehand, but it doesn’t matter, as Miz’s logo remains on screen, with text underneath it simply reading:
“THE MIZ, ARROW SEASON 8, SUMMER 2019”
COUNTDOWN TO THE NEW YEAR BEGINS
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Eric Bischoff steps out from behind the curtain, saluting the fans as they leap to their feet to boo him out of the arena. Bischoff simply points to his smiling and dimples as he adores the fans that hate him so dearly.
Following behind him is the Intercontinental Champion as he strolls arrogantly to the ring.
Tony Chimel: From Robbinsdale, Minnesota. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds. Representing the Anti-Austin Alliance. He is the Intercontinental Champion. Rick Rude!
As Rick enters the ring, he takes Chimel’s microphone from him.
Rude: Cut my music! Now Stone Cold’s lucky I’m coming out here to save his little main event instead of pressing charges. Here’s a question for you, Austin. Just how much longer do you think you can keep this up? Not only that, but how long are you going to keep paying me for easy work? I’m not surprised considering you don’t know how to do anything else that goes into running a brand, I was just hoping to actually break a sweat in this match!
The crowd boos this.
Now what I would like to have right now....is for all of you fat, out of shape, overweight, pimply, smelly, welfare warriors and gross underachievers to keep the noise down while I take off my robe and show each and every woman in attendance and watching at home that the Anti-Austin Alliance has more than a pretty face, it’s also got a nice body. Hit my music!
Tony Chimel: And the partner...
"You Think You Know Me?"
The heat from the crowd is audible as Alter Bridge’s pedal to the metal track “Metalingus” hits the PA Speakers, signaling the “Rated R Superstar” Edge! A thick cloud of smoke blurs up the curtains, before the Canadian-born superstar runs out from the back, running to each edge of the stage and antagonizing the crowd. He walks over to the start of the ramp, waiting for his theme to kick in before putting his head down, fists down, and raising up the Devil Horns with fireworks going off!
Tony Chimel: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 241 pounds. Representing the New Deal. He is "The Rated R SUUUperstar", Edge!
Edge runs from the ramp down to the ring, and slides in, laying stomach first to bare his teeth to the fans with a toothy grin, before standing up and walking to the corner, climing the middle ropes and throwing up the Devil Horns once again as his theme yells in stero. Edge is ready for this, and hops down from the post, taking off his shirt and throwing it to ring side.
Tony Chimel: And the opponents. Introducing first...
QUIET ON THE SET, CAN WE PLEASE HAVE QUIET ON THE SET?!
AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!!!
As the instrumental of "The Man" by The Killers plays over the PA system, a usual mixture of cheers and boos reverberate around the arena, The Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History walking onto the stage alone, foregoing his usual posing and instead opting to just gaze out to the crowd longingly, no emotions showing on his face as he just takes in the imagery.
Finally, Miz begins walking down the ramp, continuing to ignore his usual grandstanding and instead just look at the fans surrounding him on either side, wanting high fives or recording the A-Lister's entrance.
Tony Chimel: "From Hollywood, California, weighing in at 224 lbs, he is the self-proclaimed "Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History", The Miz!"
Miz walks to the steel steps and, before going up them, looks out at the crowd once more, before taking the stairs step by step, taking off his sunglasses to reveal his cold, focused blue eyes. He calmly hands his coat and glasses to a ringside attendant before awaiting the bell to be rung.
Tony Chimel: And the partner...
Leisureforce plays and out comes Elix in his Black and Silver gear and a shirt that says Primetime's Premier Athlete as he makes his way down the ramp.
Tony Chimel: From Roosevelt, New York. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-two pounds. “Primetime” Elix Skipper!
Skipper slides into the ring and gets to his feet, prepping for the challenge ahead.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, as Miz and Skipper are deciding who is going to start things off for their team, Edge and Rude charge across the ring and take both men down. Rude nudges Miz out of the ring with his foot and follows out after him as Edge stands up Skipper and throws him back first into the turnbuckle. Edge winds back and lights into his opponent’s chest with a knife edge chop as the capacity crowd chants, “Woooo!”.
Elix braces himself as Edge winds back for another chop but stops short of connecting and delivers a thumb to the eye using his other hand. Edge sidesteps as Elix comes stomping out of the corner, holding his eye in pain, then the, “Rated R Superstar” grabs him and connects with an Edge ‘O Matic!
On the outside of the ring, Rude and Miz are trading punches as Miz gets the better of the exchange, connecting with a body shot and then a punch to the throat with the other fist as he Irish whips Rude into the ring post then scrambles up onto the apron, stretching his arm out in the direction of his tag partner.
Edge sees this and grabs Elix by the wrists, dragging him over towards Miz. Edge now holds Elix by one wrist as he goes to tag Miz’s hand on Elix’s behalf but as he goes for the tag, Rude pulls Miz by the ankles as he hits the ring apron jaw first on the way down. Rude and Edge shoot one another a sly smile as Edge does a mock shrug, then holds his pointer finger near his thumb to signify how close Skipper was.
Tom Phillips: I hate to admit it, but Edge and Rude are working like a well-oiled machine here in the early going.
Corey Graves: You say early going like it’s beginner’s luck, Phillips. Well buckle in, because they’re going to be this smooth a cohesive unit the whole match through!
Edge stands there with his arms crossed as Elix dizzily gets back to his feet. Once there, Skipper shakes off the cobwebs quickly and gives Edge a forceful shove with both hands as Edge is knocked back into the corner. As Edge makes impact and starts heading out of the corner, Elix hits him with an T-Bone Suplex and, almost right after impact, heads over to the ropes and launches off of them, diving through the opposite ropes and taking Rude down with a suicide dive!
Skipper is back to his feet as he slides back into the ring and hits a standing dropkick as Edge is getting back to his feet, then scrambles up to the top turnbuckle and waits for his opponent to get to a vertical base again. Bischoff climbs up and smacks Elix’s leg and then drops back to the floor. Skipper looks down at him then waves him off as he returns his focus to where it was and goes for a cross body but didn’t scout where his opponent was and Edge is able to come off the mat and catch him at an angle that it’s reversed into a Spear!
Edge rises to a vertical base, brushing his hair out of his face as he looks down at what he’s done with a look of sickening pleasure on his face. Miz makes his way up onto the apron at this time as Edge looks at him and points at Elix, asking if he wants to tag in. Miz looks angrily at Edge, then turns and looks to see if Rude is there, then looks back at Edge who grabs the back of Miz’s head and falls to his knees, dropping Miz throat first onto the rope as he’s launched backward off the apron and falls to the floor.
Tom Phillips: This is despicable! They know that Miz is going to tear them apart once he’s legal and that’s why they’re cutting all these corners to make sure he can’t tag in!
Corey Graves: Tear them apart? Ha! The only thing Miz can tear apart is in his own head! You heard all that self-doubt!
As Miz is holding his throat on the floor and Elix is in the ring holding his ribs, Edge cockily swaggers over to his corner as he tags in Rick Rude. As Edge steps through the ropes onto the apron and Rude steps through the ropes into the ring, the Intercontinental Champion makes his way over to the pained, “Primetime” and mocks him as he did at Judgment Day, by putting his hands on his head and swaying his hips.
It’s at this moment that Elix kips up to his feet. Once to his feet, he begins unloading on the abdomen of Rude with furious punches that he throws underhanded with both hands, as this furious flurry backs him into the corner upstage from where Edge and his corner is. As Rude is in the corner, Elix connects with a shoulder thrust, and then another. As he connects with a third, he backflips as he draws away and charges forward, running up Rude’s body and grabbing the top rope to each side as he starts violently stomping the, “Ravishing One”’s collarbone.
After many rapid stomps, Elix shifts his hands quickly from the ropes to Rick’s shoulders as he swings his legs downward and kicks him in the abdomen. Following up on the kick, Skipper monkey flips the champion as Rude tumbles through the air and hits the mat hard as he pops up holding his lower back. As he does, Elix charges and aims his legs in a dropkick angle so that the way he lands on Rude, he lands with one boot on the back of the head and the other between the shoulder blades.
Tom Phillips: Well what do you make of that, Corey?
Corey Graves: Should’ve done it on a stage that had more than bragging rights or redemption at stake. Somewhere like, oh I don’t know, the other night at Judgment Day?
Skipper looks proud of himself as he looks over at Miz who is up on the apron and extending his hand out. Elix looks at the crowd and points to Miz as the crowd pops huge which amps up Miz more as his legs are trembling on the apron. Skipper heads over to the, “A-Lister” and gives him an emphatic tag as you can hear the roof come off the place.
Miz leaps over the rope and lands on the mat as he charges across the ring and knocks Edge off of the apron. Rude gets up to his knees and as he does, Miz is right there as he begins lighting into the upper body of his recently rekindled foe with the world-renowned It Kicks as the crowd chants, “Miz!” with each one that connects.
After connecting with a few, Miz aims for the head but as he swings, Rude ducks and punches Miz in the knee of his other leg, causing it to buckle as he grabs the leg Miz was kicking with and bends it around the back of his neck and over his shoulder as he stands up, holding Miz upside down as he wrenches the leg.
Corey Graves: He’s busting out a Brock Lock, Phillips! Tell Miz to kiss his meniscus goodbye!
Tom Phillips: I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting Rick Rude to use this maneuver, but that doesn’t mean I like it a damn bit!
As Rude is tormenting Miz in the hold, things are looking grim for the must-see superstar as suddenly, Skipper slides into the ring on the side Rude is facing and clubs him in the face with a forearm strike! As all three men fall to the mat for various reasons, Miz holds his worked over leg as Elix is staying on Rude, laying into him with mounted punches.
Edge enters the ring now and heads over to break up what’s going on between Elix and Rude, but the referee reprimands him. As Edge angrily tries to muscle past the referee but remains held at bay, Bischoff climbs onto the apron in front of where Elix is attacking Rick and sprays contents of some canister he’s holding into his eyes as Elix falls to the mat, clutching at his face.
Tom Phillips: What a bunch of cowards! Can’t any of these guys play by the rules?
Corey Graves: That’s what happens when you forget you aren’t the legal man!
Tom Phillips: Elix said he was willing to do whatever it takes to win!
Corey Graves: How’s that okay but it’s not alright for the other team to do the exact same thing? You really need to start painting everyone with the same brush, Phillips!
As Rude gets up, he points at Elix and laughs then turns his attention to Miz who is up to his feet but still favoring the worked over one a bit. Rude charges Miz but Elix manages to get to him first as he pushes Miz out of the way just as Rude is attacking, taking the full brunt of the lariat that was meant for the new star of Arrow.
As Elix goes down, Miz delivers an It Kick to a standing Rude’s abdomen as he doubles over and holds where he’s been stricken in pain. Miz hooks his head and then turns so that Rude is planted onto his back with a move fans of the, “Awesome One” haven’t seen in quite some time, the Mizard of Oz. Miz goes for the cover.
ONE!
NO!
As the referee goes to slap the mat a second time, Edge enters the ring and drops a double axe handle on him. The crowd boos as Edge goes after Miz who gets up to meet him. As the two begin throwing punches, connecting at the same time as one another, suddenly Edge lands a thumb to Miz’s eye, causing him to relent on the punches.
Before the, “Rated R Superstar” can take advantage however, Skipper goes rolling toward his legs and trips him up. As Edge staggers to keep his balance, Miz regains his sight and hooks the prone Edge in the full nelson, quickly following through with the leg sweep that makes it the Skull Crushing Finale!
Soon after connecting however, Rude grabs him from behind and pulls him up, dropping him back down just as quickly with the Rude Awakening! On Rude’s way to his feet, Skipper runs over and drapes his leg over the back of Rick’s neck and connects with the Play of the Day!
Tom Phillips: Finishermania!
Corey Graves: The only thing that should be finished is your broadcasting career!
Elix grabs Miz’s wrists and drags him over to their corner then hops through the ropes onto the apron and reaches his hand out as a groggy Miz is starting to come to. Meanwhile, Edge has rolled out of the ring under the bottom rope as he’s sitting against the ring apron taking a breather while in the ring, Rude is beginning to push himself up with his arms.
Miz somewhat weakly reaches up as he and Elix tag hands as, “Primetime” eagerly leaps over the rope into the ring. He heads over to Rude and drapes his leg, looking for another Play of the Day but Rude manages to swing his arm up and outward to hit him low as he grabs the leg and stands up, applying another Brock Lock!
Corey Graves: Well since he’s making this move famous again, I say we change the name of it!
Tom Phillips: To what, genius? The Rude Lock? The Ravishing Wrench?
Corey Graves: Well he’s as known for his exploits with the ladies as he is for his domination in the ring so how about the RFD?
Tom Phillips: RFD?
Corey Graves: Ribbed For Discomfort.
Tom Phillips: Tell me, does that thing you call a hairstyle tickle Rude when you’re that high up on his nuts?
As Rude is punishing the former number one contender in the hold, Elix is desperately trying to reach the ropes but as he does, Edge grabs the rope and pulls it further away. As Edge mocks Skipper, Miz suddenly rushes him and knocks him to the floor. The referee is up and alert again while this is going on as Elix manages to grab the rope but Rude won’t let go.
The referee begins to count but Rude just cranks on the leg harder.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FI...
Before the ref can count five, Rude releases the hold but the damage has been done as Elix lies there on the mat holding his leg. Miz heads back over to the apron as Skipper desperately begins to crawl over to the corner. On the opposite side of the ring, Edge is up on the apron as well as Rude heads over and tags him in, much to the crowd’s disdain.
Edge heads over and drops a knee to the bad leg of Skipper. As Elix winces, Edge is up quickly as he drags his opponent further away from Miz. Edge rolls Elix over, grabbing his ankles and holding his legs apart as he begins stomping the inner part of the bad leg as Elix cries out in pain. Edge takes the leg now and falls sideways, slamming it against the mat before grabbing both of Skipper’s legs and stepping through them with one foot as he turns him and applies the Edgecator!
Tom Phillips: I’m not sure how long Skipper can last in that hold!
Corey Graves: Good! Losers like him and Miz need to realize their limits!
As Elix suffers in the hold, Miz decides to return the favor from earlier as he enters the ring quickly and goes after Edge but is reprimanded by the official. While Miz and the official are having it out, Miz trying to get past him, Edge releases the hold and runs up, thrusting forward with his chest as he uses Miz’s position to sandwich the referee between the two of them.
The referee goes down as Miz looks in disbelief as Edge laughs at what he’s done. But the laughing doesn’t last long as Miz kicks Edge directly in the groin as hard as he can. Edge holds his Rated R area and slinks to his knees as Miz immediately begins lighting into him with It Kicks. While this is happening, Elix manages to get to his feet and, in perhaps a rush of adrenaline, plants the hurt foot and begins to throw his own It Kicks with his other leg.
Tom Phillips: It Kicks from both sides!
Corey Graves: Would you stop endorsing this? I mean it’s complete anarchy, there’s no order in this contest!
Unsurprisingly, Rude enters the ring as he kicks Skipper in the back of his weak leg and as it buckles and he falls back, Rude bends and lunges so that he has Primetime sprawled out on his shoulders. Rick stands up and puts Elix in a brief Torture Rack before throwing him off of his shoulders into Miz as both men are taken to the mat.
Rude helps Edge to his feet as the two go after their opponents. Rick grabs Elix’s arms and holds them behind his back, leading him to his feet and turning him towards Edge as the, “Rated R Superstar” begins unloading on his stomach with punches. As Miz is getting up, Rude throws a kick to his forehead to knock him back down as he then throws Elix upward and Edge catches him in powerbomb position, Rick letting go of his hold as Edge turns and powerbombs Skipper right onto Miz!
Corey Graves: Now that’s what you call teamwork!
Tom Phillips: What a shock that you feel that way.
As the referee is coming to, Rude steps through the ropes and returns to his place on the apron as Edge grabs Elix and guides him to his feet, nudging Miz out of the ring with his foot before planting Skipper hard with an Edgecution. Edge rolls him over now and makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Somehow, some way, Elix gets the shoulder up as the crowd pops as Edge, Bischoff, and Rude look like they can’t believe it. As Elix sits up, he looks a little shocked himself.
Tom Phillips: The heart and soul of Primetime on full display here!
Corey Graves: Well he’s still got a bum leg and has taken a beating so unless someone gives him a Senzu, let’s be honest, he’s just delaying the inevitable!
Tom Phillips: You know, I bet even in exchanging your wedding vows you were the heel.
Corey Graves: What’s that supposed to mean?
Elix and Edge are standing face-to-face as Edge slaps Elix as hard and as disrespectfully as he can. Skipper snaps back with a look of fire in his eyes as he slaps Edge back, then gives him a violent shove as the RRS tries to maintain his balance. As Edge stops himself and begins back in Elix’s direction, Elix runs and leaps up at an angle, springing off the top rope and connecting with a Triangle Dropkick!
Edge is knocked into the corner by this as Miz leans around and delivers a forearm across the chest as, soon after impact, Elix leaps up and hooks his legs around his head, connecting with a Frankensteiner. Skipper now heads over to his corner and tags in Miz as the two quickly trade places. Miz charges the sitting and dazed Edge and leaps over him, grabbing his head so that when he lands, it’s sort of a half-Cutter.
With his opponent sprawled out on the mat now, Miz is up as he stands at his head and looks out to the crowd who are cheering him like they’ve never cheered him before. Miz thinks for a moment, then kicks Edge’s collarbone before running into the ropes. As he comes off of them and returns to Edge’s side, he emits a cry of, “AAAAWWWWWEEEESSOOOOMMMEEE!” before dropping an elbow into the heart of his opponent.
As Edge sits up holding his chest, Miz guides him the rest of the way to his feet then picks him up, dropping him with the flowsion technique he refers to as the Emerald Arrow!
Miz goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
As Edge gets the shoulder up, Miz hooks it in a half nelson and guides Edge forcefully up so that he can apply the full nelson. Miz goes for the leg sweep to complete the move but Rude enters the ring and blows past the referee, breaking up the full nelson. As Edge falls to the mat, Rude goozles Miz with both hands and begins choking him out as Elix gets up on the top rope.
Elix goes to leap but his bad leg buckles right as he does so it messes things up as he face plants next to Miz. Rude pushes Miz over Elix as the, “A-Lister” loses his balance and falls backward and down into the ropes. As he comes off the ropes, Rude grabs him and turns him, hitting the Rude Awakening. Rude exits the ring as the crowd is booing furiously while Edge is up and sizing up his opponent.
Corey Graves: That slip-up trying to save the day is what you call Primetime egg on your face, Phillips!
Tom Phillips: I’d rather have egg on my face than letting my favorite wrestler finish there.
The crowd is chanting, “Miz is Awe-some!” in between claps and stomps as they’re trying to will the actor/wrestler back to cognizance. Miz grabs the middle rope and pulls himself up, draping himself over it as he tries to take a breather as well as shake off the cobwebs. Edge looks nearly psychotic as he’s chomping at the bit to spear Miz as Miz backs off of the middle rope and begins to turn around.
As Miz turns, Edge charges but much like earlier in the match, Elix shoves him out of the way and Edge hits him with a Spear so impactful, both men go flying through the ropes to the outside, each of them landing nastily.
Tom Phillips: Skipper dove on the grenade again! What a tag team partner!
Corey Graves: Still just delaying the inevitable in my opinion.
Tom Phillips: Really? Because it looks like Edge may have knocked himself out on that one!
The referee begins to count the “Rated R Superstar” out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Edge is still lying flat on his back, not moving a muscle. Bischoff is trying to get him to come to but the referee stops his count and the two begin arguing. After a moment, the referee has finally had enough as he communicates with his body language that he’s ejecting Eric from ringside. He looks furious as he stomps off and heads up the ramp as the referee restarts his count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Edge’s fingers are starting to twitch as well as his right foot.
FOUR!
Edge puts his hands down at his sides and begins to push himself up.
FIVE!
In the ring, Miz is watching as Edge is up to a sitting position but is hanging his head, holding it in pain.
SIX!
Edge plants his hands at his sides again, pushing himself up.
SEVEN!
As Edge is halfway up on his hands and feet, his arms and legs are trembling violently as Miz climbs up to the top turnbuckle.
EIGHT!
As Miz is perched and ready to strike, Rude comes charging along the apron and goes for a double axe handle as Edge is back to a vertical base.
NINE!
Miz somehow scouts the strike as, in an impressive show of athleticism he backflips and lands on the apron behind Rude, locking him in a full nelson as he bounces off the turnbuckle pad. Meanwhile, Edge is limping as quickly as possible towards the ring.
TE...
Just as the referee is about to count ten, Edge slides into the ring. As this happens, Miz sweeps the leg of the Intercontinental Champion and gives him a Skull Crushing Finale onto the apron as both men fall to the floor.
Tom Phillips: Good Lord! We’ve seen Miz do that before but it’s one of those sights you never get used to!
Corey Graves: Considering he put a flip on it and had Rude’s momentum to use against him, you have to imagine that one had some extra stank on it.
Tom Phillips: Did you hit your head too?
Corey Graves: What kind of question is that? I’m just calling the match, Phillips!
On the outside of the ring, Miz is to his feet but noticeably limping as he seems to have tweaked his knee somewhere in all the chaos as he begins to make his way towards the ring. Inside of it, Edge isn’t out of the woods yet as even though he avoided being counted out, he must now avoid being counted down. The referee looks at Miz and then looks at Edge and starts to count them simultaneously, looking back and forth between each of them after each number.
ONE!
Miz has made a light step as Edge grabs the bottom rope on the side of the ring he recently entered from.
TWO!
Miz makes another step as Edge pulls himself toward the rope and pushes down on it with his hands to elevate himself.
THREE!
Miz takes a few quick steps, losing his balance as he catches himself on the ring apron as in the ring, Edge drapes one arm over the middle rope.
FOUR!
Miz pushes off of the apron, straightening his arms out as Edge drapes his other arm over the middle rope.
FIVE!
Miz returns to a vertical base and lets go of the apron as Edge pulls up and manages to find half of his footing as he’s sort of at a slouched stand.
SIX!
Miz takes another light step toward the ring as Skipper is making his way around from where he is to where Miz is.
SEVEN!
Edge grabs the top rope and rises from a slouched stance to a vertical base as Elix gets closer to Miz.
EIGHT!
Edge steps away from the ropes and staggers toward the center of the ring. Miz dives under the bottom rope to try and enter the ring. The ref is just counting him now.
NINE!
Miz only seems to get a little way there before his lower half of his body starts to slide backward out of the ring.
TE...
Skipper grabs Miz’s legs and turns them toward and into the ring, giving his partner some added leverage and putting him back in the ring at the last possible millisecond. Elix makes his way back around the ring toward his corner as, in the ring, a winded and still visibly groggy Edge looks down at Miz who is beginning to sit up.
Tom Phillips: The close calls just keep coming in this one. I don’t know how or when this one is going to end.
Corey Graves: All four men have put their bodies through hell, showing not just how personal this is, but that they belong in the main event.
Tom Phillips: Seriously, can you hear yourself? You just called Elix Skipper a main eventer!
Corey Graves: So?
Tom Phillips: So you’ve been berating him and Miz all match long!
Corey Graves: Quit mudslinging, Phillips. You’re making both of us look bad.
Miz puts his hands down at his sides and begins to push up as Edge seems to finally be getting his focus back. Miz gets to his feet at last as he and Edge eye each other, the crowd coming more alive just when it seemed they were at the height of their excitement.
The two begin to gradually circle one another, but after one revolution they begin to cover more ground and as a result, Rude is able to reach into the ring and tap Miz on the shoulder. Miz turns and takes a swing at Rude but he avoids it and as Miz turns back to Edge, he’s hit with a Spear! It feels like the entire arena is booing as Edge collapses over top of Miz.
ONE!
TWO!
THR..NO!
During the ruckus, Elix dropped from the apron and began searching under the ring. As the referee’s about to count three, Elix enters the ring and absolutely waylays him in the head with a steel chair! As the referee goes down, Skipper rolls Edge off of Miz and is laying into the, “Rated R Superstar” with furious chair shots.
Corey Graves: Elix Skipper has snapped!
Tom Phillips: I understand not wanting Edge and Rude to cheat to win, but he’s giving them the match this way too!
Corey Graves: I don’t think he’s thinking about that, Phillips!
Elix turns from Edge and heads towards Rude who is entering the ring and hits him just as hard as he possibly can in the head with the chair as Rude goes down. Elix throws the chair down and exits the ring, heading up the ramp still seething as medical staff and other referees blow past him on their way to the ring.
Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen your winners as a result of a disqualification....Rick Rude and Edge!
With everyone still laid out in the ring, the camera gets one last shot of an angry Skipper as Revolution goes off the air.
CREDITS
Promos- Respective TT’ers
Trips/Callihan-Semi
Everything else- Dres
Aleister: You shouldn't be surprised. You shouldn't be surprised because I promised many things since the moment I debuted on Revolution, and I fulfilled each and every one of them. I won this title right here, and I beat every last man in my way before it. And I promise to you people right here right now that this isn't my peak. This isn't even close. You see, unlike Gulak, I don't have a peak. Where he sits in the lower card in limbo, I keep getting better. Where he takes this title and he holds onto it with all of his might in fear that he might fade into irrelevancy, I look further and further up the card. And where I look I see opportunity. Opportunity in this... Anti Austin situation. And in this era of six-on-one handicap matches against the champion and the private army they have at ringside, I see the opportunity to climb yet another rung in the ladder. To make my name known, and to put "Aleister Black" in the history books.
And I'm going to promise something else as well. I promise to bring relevancy this title in ways that Gulak could not. If I climb higher up the ladder in this company, I am bringing this title with me, and I won't let it make me what it made Gulak; lower card talent. So, in regards to where my future lies and this Anti-Austin situation...
He turns to the stage area to address someone back there.
Aleister: Steve Austin, in this wasteland of a show, I am the outlier. I don't need a militia of lower-card goons or a pair of washed-up Canadian nobodies to keep this title. Hell, put me in a handicap match with 5 of those underachieving, low-expectation subservants and I fear for what will happen to them. The legitimacy destroyed. The bodies broken. The careers lost. So, Stone Cold, the next time one of your main events is ruined by these deceivers, these clowns, keep my name in mind. Because it might just be more valuable than everyone in Sweeney's little... cavalcade combined.
But recent events have opened, well... let's just say "newer" opportunities for me. And that lead me to searching, looking for someone to match my talent, someone that I agree with, and I think I might have just found him... When I was little, I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid of what's in it. So I tried to find answers. I searched for asylum. I searched for what it was that lurked in the night, and after all of these years I found him...
So, I'd like to formally introduce the former masked man, future champion, human killing machine...
WALTER.
The violins at the beginning of Symphony No. 9 begin building up the arrival of Walter as fans go absolutely CRAZY for the debuting superstar! Aleister Black points at the stage area, obviously pleased at the overwhelming pop that the fans gave his new tag partner. WALTER eventually walks out and stands at the top of the stage, arms behind his back, killer stare still very much present.
Philips: No way, that's-
Graves: The ring general, Big Van Walter!
He begins walking calmly down the ramp, not reacting much to the fans singing along to his music. He reaches the ring, looking up at Aleister Black for a moment before circling around the ring and climbing the stairs. He steps into the ring, posing towards hard-cam as his music fades away. Fans begin chanting "Wal-ter! Wal-ter!" as he turns towards Aleister. Aleister holds up the microphone again to continue talking.
Aleister: This is Walter. This is the ringkampf. This is the bull from Vienna, and this is one of the only men who has brought me to my limit. We've fought together, we've fought against each other, and we have one thing in common. We hate the disrespect that has been running rampant around this company, and we'll beat it out of anyone, whether you like them or you hate them. We don't need any third parties or run-ins or rallying. All we need is ourselves, and that's all you are going to see from us in the future. Starting from this day forward, we destroy the disrespect, the sin that plagues this company, and all of the gold you saw on Sunday will be around our waists and on our shoulders. Today is just a taste of the foreseeable future, so you better get used to it, because it's anything but sweet and sour.
Aleister Black points at Walter, who pulls a microphone out from his coat to speak his first words in the company
WALTER: This sport was founded on respect, and it was founded on honor. We are here to restore that respect and we'll rip it out of the people who don't give it to us. Pray for your favorite superstar because after we're done with this company, none of them will be left.
Aleister: We are the new Sumerian Death Squad, and this is our company now. As for my opponent tonight, Baron Corbin, pick a god and pray.
Out of the Black hits the speakers yet again, as the crowd is still busy trying to figure out what just happened. Aleister picks up his title and begins leaving the ring with Walter. As Walter turns to leave the ring, the camera shows the 8-pointed star that acts as the Sumerian Death Squad's logo on the back of his coat where the Ringkampf logo would be. The two walk up the ramp, and as Walter walks backstage, Aleister stops at the top of the ramp to turn back to the ring and add one final throat-slit gesture before disappearing into the backstage area.
Philips: Emphatic statement here from Aleister Black and Walter. One's gotta wonder, what do they have in store for us in the future?
As Tom wonders this, it’s time for the next match-up.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
Hyper's "Lies" starts to blare through the speakers, as the arena soon begins to descend into jeers for the Switchblade. As soon as the beat kicks in, Jay White slowly emerges from the back. Jay stands there for a moment, an almost empty, cold, look on his face, before he extends his arms outward and makes two Shaka signs with his hands, swiping them across his throat to make a throat slitting gesture with the signs. White then heads down to the ring.
Tony Chimel: “Making his way to the ring, from Auckland, New Zealand, weighing 220 pounds - he is the Switchblade - Jay White!”
Switchblade continues on his way down the ramp with his arms wide open cockily, chiefly for the world to embrace him. The crowd reciprocates by flooding him with more boos. Now at ringside, White pivots right to make his way around the other side of the ring, hopping up on the ringside apron, methodically stepping through the ring ropes to get inside the ring.
White, now inside the ring, heads to his corner and takes off his Switchblade Jacket, handing it off to some ringside worker.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
The opening bars of the song play in showing Drew Gulak delivering speeches interspersed with people in submissions on the titantron. When the song kicks into full gear he walks out in a robe and wrestling gear holding up a sign with a logo promoting one of his various poilicies.
Tony Chimel: Coming down to the ring weighing at 193 lbs, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania he is The Master of 1000 Powerpoint Presentations, Drew Gulak!
He places the sign against the steel steps and climbs up to the apron and after wiping his feet on the apron. He goes in through the middle rope and slowly dresses down to his ring gear making sure to hand it in a neat pile to someone from the ring crew. From there he gets into his corner, and begins stretching waiting for the bell to ring.
DING DING!
With the sounding of the ring bell, White immediately goes on the offense as he connects flush with a superkick into Drew’s sternum. Gulak is launched backward into the nearest corner by this as Jay follows up with a running European Uppercut. As White backs away, Drew is holding his jaw with one hand and his chest with the other as the, “Switchblade” has a sinister smile form.
Jay goes for a toe kick but Gulak moves his hands quickly towards where he’s aiming and catches his foot as he delivers a kick to his opponent’s other shin before flipping him onto his back. Drew goes for a stomp as White rolls backward to avoid it, ending up back on his feet in a crouched position as he leaps at the, “Gentlemen” and goes for a flying lariat but Drew manages to lift his knee so that Jay’s solar plexus connects with it.
Drew also intercepts the arm as he does a full flip over it, his back and Jay’s arm hitting the mat hard as he turns his body, forcing the arm straight as he locks his own hands around Jay’s wrist and hand and locks his legs around Jay’s arm.
Tom Phillips: Well that’s a presentation that Drew doesn’t need any computer software for!
Corey Graves: Seriously Phillips, how many damn PowerPoint jokes do I have to hear before you either run out or get the hint that no one likes them and stop?
Despite his wrenching on the hold, White seems to be enjoying the pain as he’s laughing instead of crying out in agony. This throws Gulak off as he releases the hold and returns to his feet, creating a bit of distance. Jay returns to his feet as well, continuing to laugh before his expression turns cold and blank, seemingly without transition or effort and certainly without warning, as he reaches out and grabs Drew by the hair, pulling him in and taking him down with a lariat.
Gulak is back to his feet quickly as he grabs Jay’s hair this time, pulling him in and connecting with a headbutt. As White is dazed, Drew steps around so that he and Jay are now standing in opposite positions as he hooks his head with his arm and launches the, “Switchblade” into the corner with a snap suplex!
Tom Phillips: Ooh, what a Bataclan!
Corey Graves: Not exactly the Gentleman thing to do but I think it’s safe to say there’s no love lost.
White gets up holding his back but is laughing again as Gulak is up and looking a bit rattled by this. White’s expression suddenly changes again as it did earlier as he delivers a swift forearm to Drew’s midsection and returns the favor for the Bataclan as he hits an underhook suplex into the corner.
As Gulak is on the mat, Jay begins to quickly untie the middle turnbuckle pad, discarding it to the side after he succeeds. The referee tries to stop him as he goes to do the same to the top turnbuckle pad but Drew gets off the mat at that moment and hits Jay in the stomach with an uppercut. As White reacts to the hit, Gulak slips behind him quickly and connects with a belly-to-back suplex backbreaker.
Tom Phillips: Spine Splitter!
Corey Graves: Quite a trade-off these two athletes are having.
Drew grabs Jay now around the neck with his arm, the crowd cheering as they know the Gu-Lock is coming but as he comes upward, White manages to land a chop to the body as he throws himself upward and twists over and around, managing to reverse the submission attempt into a crucifix hold as he has Gulak’s left arm with his upper body and Gulak’s right arm with his legs.
As soon as the hold is applied, he begins laying into his opponent’s head with elbow shot after elbow shot after elbow shot. Soon, this dizzies Drew as he falls to the mat, Jay keeping the hold applied and continuing to strike with his elbow.
Tom Phillips: I don’t know how he pulled off that reversal but Drew’s in a bad place because he did.
Corey Graves: And with Jay’s recent attitude change, I wouldn’t expect those elbows to stop coming anytime soon.
As Gulak is busted open, Jay continues the onslaught, more and more blood spreading and pooling down with each hit. Soon, the referee has seen enough.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner as a result of referee stoppage, Drew Gulak!
White continues his attack despite the bell being rung though as the referee is trying to pry him off of Drew. Eventually Jay lets go and allows the ref to pull him off, throwing an elbow into the side of his head once he lands on his feet. As the referee goes down, the, “Switchblade” grabs Gulak and hits him with a Twisting Brainbuster before exiting the ring and heading up the ramp.
As Drew lies there in a pool of his own blood, Revolution heads elsewhere.
The scene shifts to a convention panel, a large crowd gathered for the event going on right now. Specifically, the Q&A of the cast of The CW’s Arrow, and sitting right front and center is none other than Oliver Queen himself, Stephen Amell. The Q&A still has not begun, however, as Amell raises up a hand to calm down the crowd.
Stephen Amell: “.....Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you are all excited for Season 8 of Arrow which comes out THIS SUMMER!~”
The fans in attendance, whether in cosplay or not, all cheer at the news, specifically the release date being so close to now.
Stephen Amell: “But, I’m sure you all know that there are still some surprises in store for the next season, and we have a little trailer put together that we want to show you guys!”
As Amell looks up towards the screen, the lights in the room they’re using for the panel dim to allow fans to see the screen easier, with the first shot of the video being the logo for Arrow…
followed up by the logo for the channel it is hosted on, The CW…
But it sits there, a bit too long for normal. As the actors on the panel look up to the screen, they are met with the W of the CW spinning around, slowly, until it is flipped completely. Then, in a sudden movement of the letter, it falls straight out of the logo, being replaced with one more well-known by UWF fans.
As some of the fans in attendance are marking out over this, others are left completely confused. Soon enough, the screen changes over, and now shows the face of one Mike Mizanin, eager to introduce himself to those unaware.
Miz: “Well, well, well...seems that there’s some kind of panel for Arrow, isn’t there? And what were you trying to play, Stephen? A trailer...no no no, I think these people deserve something a little more…..awesome, than that, don’t you think?”
More people, now recognizing Miz’s face whether it be from movies, advertisements, or media appearances, are cheering as he continues on.
Miz: “Yeah, yeah I think so as well, so I went ahead and talked to some of the bigwigs at The CW, and they were oh, so very proud to ink a deal, so I’d like to announce that, come Season 8 of Arrow, you guys will be seeing me, The Miz, on Arrow!”
Even Stephen is surprised at this, smiling at the new knowledge while the fans in attendance are cheering wildly.
Miz: “To be able to guest star on this show, it’s a treat really. Arrow has been one of the hottest superhero shows on television, but I figured that a show of this quality truly needed a Hollywood A-List level talent to push it over that edge, and who better than The Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History and the STAR of The Marine movies? Nobody, that’s who! And if you all thought that Cody Rhodes appearing here was a big guest star, then you haven’t seen anything yet, trust me!”
Stephen at this point is standing up, looking at the screen with the microphone, originally set up for guest Q&As, in hand.
Stephen Amell: “Wow...Mike! I...I didn’t get word of this news before anybody else here did, and I just want to say-”
Miz: “Stephen, please save it for when I’m on set, okay? Besides, don’t you have a trailer to be showing them anyways?”
Amell slinks back to his chair, sitting down.
Miz: “As for you guys, while I’m not entirely sure what episodes I’ll be appearing on, they are sure to become must-watch TV that week, all thanks to me, BECAUSE I’M THE MIZ…..AND IIIIII’MMMMM…..AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!!!”
The screen then blips off, the crowd cheering as the actors on screen range from excited to shocked, none of them being told this news beforehand, but it doesn’t matter, as Miz’s logo remains on screen, with text underneath it simply reading:
“THE MIZ, ARROW SEASON 8, SUMMER 2019”
COUNTDOWN TO THE NEW YEAR BEGINS
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Eric Bischoff steps out from behind the curtain, saluting the fans as they leap to their feet to boo him out of the arena. Bischoff simply points to his smiling and dimples as he adores the fans that hate him so dearly.
Following behind him is the Intercontinental Champion as he strolls arrogantly to the ring.
Tony Chimel: From Robbinsdale, Minnesota. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds. Representing the Anti-Austin Alliance. He is the Intercontinental Champion. Rick Rude!
As Rick enters the ring, he takes Chimel’s microphone from him.
Rude: Cut my music! Now Stone Cold’s lucky I’m coming out here to save his little main event instead of pressing charges. Here’s a question for you, Austin. Just how much longer do you think you can keep this up? Not only that, but how long are you going to keep paying me for easy work? I’m not surprised considering you don’t know how to do anything else that goes into running a brand, I was just hoping to actually break a sweat in this match!
The crowd boos this.
Now what I would like to have right now....is for all of you fat, out of shape, overweight, pimply, smelly, welfare warriors and gross underachievers to keep the noise down while I take off my robe and show each and every woman in attendance and watching at home that the Anti-Austin Alliance has more than a pretty face, it’s also got a nice body. Hit my music!
Tony Chimel: And the partner...
"You Think You Know Me?"
The heat from the crowd is audible as Alter Bridge’s pedal to the metal track “Metalingus” hits the PA Speakers, signaling the “Rated R Superstar” Edge! A thick cloud of smoke blurs up the curtains, before the Canadian-born superstar runs out from the back, running to each edge of the stage and antagonizing the crowd. He walks over to the start of the ramp, waiting for his theme to kick in before putting his head down, fists down, and raising up the Devil Horns with fireworks going off!
Tony Chimel: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 241 pounds. Representing the New Deal. He is "The Rated R SUUUperstar", Edge!
Edge runs from the ramp down to the ring, and slides in, laying stomach first to bare his teeth to the fans with a toothy grin, before standing up and walking to the corner, climing the middle ropes and throwing up the Devil Horns once again as his theme yells in stero. Edge is ready for this, and hops down from the post, taking off his shirt and throwing it to ring side.
Tony Chimel: And the opponents. Introducing first...
QUIET ON THE SET, CAN WE PLEASE HAVE QUIET ON THE SET?!
AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!!!
As the instrumental of "The Man" by The Killers plays over the PA system, a usual mixture of cheers and boos reverberate around the arena, The Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History walking onto the stage alone, foregoing his usual posing and instead opting to just gaze out to the crowd longingly, no emotions showing on his face as he just takes in the imagery.
Finally, Miz begins walking down the ramp, continuing to ignore his usual grandstanding and instead just look at the fans surrounding him on either side, wanting high fives or recording the A-Lister's entrance.
Tony Chimel: "From Hollywood, California, weighing in at 224 lbs, he is the self-proclaimed "Most Must-See Superstar in UWF History", The Miz!"
Miz walks to the steel steps and, before going up them, looks out at the crowd once more, before taking the stairs step by step, taking off his sunglasses to reveal his cold, focused blue eyes. He calmly hands his coat and glasses to a ringside attendant before awaiting the bell to be rung.
Tony Chimel: And the partner...
Leisureforce plays and out comes Elix in his Black and Silver gear and a shirt that says Primetime's Premier Athlete as he makes his way down the ramp.
Tony Chimel: From Roosevelt, New York. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-two pounds. “Primetime” Elix Skipper!
Skipper slides into the ring and gets to his feet, prepping for the challenge ahead.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, as Miz and Skipper are deciding who is going to start things off for their team, Edge and Rude charge across the ring and take both men down. Rude nudges Miz out of the ring with his foot and follows out after him as Edge stands up Skipper and throws him back first into the turnbuckle. Edge winds back and lights into his opponent’s chest with a knife edge chop as the capacity crowd chants, “Woooo!”.
Elix braces himself as Edge winds back for another chop but stops short of connecting and delivers a thumb to the eye using his other hand. Edge sidesteps as Elix comes stomping out of the corner, holding his eye in pain, then the, “Rated R Superstar” grabs him and connects with an Edge ‘O Matic!
On the outside of the ring, Rude and Miz are trading punches as Miz gets the better of the exchange, connecting with a body shot and then a punch to the throat with the other fist as he Irish whips Rude into the ring post then scrambles up onto the apron, stretching his arm out in the direction of his tag partner.
Edge sees this and grabs Elix by the wrists, dragging him over towards Miz. Edge now holds Elix by one wrist as he goes to tag Miz’s hand on Elix’s behalf but as he goes for the tag, Rude pulls Miz by the ankles as he hits the ring apron jaw first on the way down. Rude and Edge shoot one another a sly smile as Edge does a mock shrug, then holds his pointer finger near his thumb to signify how close Skipper was.
Tom Phillips: I hate to admit it, but Edge and Rude are working like a well-oiled machine here in the early going.
Corey Graves: You say early going like it’s beginner’s luck, Phillips. Well buckle in, because they’re going to be this smooth a cohesive unit the whole match through!
Edge stands there with his arms crossed as Elix dizzily gets back to his feet. Once there, Skipper shakes off the cobwebs quickly and gives Edge a forceful shove with both hands as Edge is knocked back into the corner. As Edge makes impact and starts heading out of the corner, Elix hits him with an T-Bone Suplex and, almost right after impact, heads over to the ropes and launches off of them, diving through the opposite ropes and taking Rude down with a suicide dive!
Skipper is back to his feet as he slides back into the ring and hits a standing dropkick as Edge is getting back to his feet, then scrambles up to the top turnbuckle and waits for his opponent to get to a vertical base again. Bischoff climbs up and smacks Elix’s leg and then drops back to the floor. Skipper looks down at him then waves him off as he returns his focus to where it was and goes for a cross body but didn’t scout where his opponent was and Edge is able to come off the mat and catch him at an angle that it’s reversed into a Spear!
Edge rises to a vertical base, brushing his hair out of his face as he looks down at what he’s done with a look of sickening pleasure on his face. Miz makes his way up onto the apron at this time as Edge looks at him and points at Elix, asking if he wants to tag in. Miz looks angrily at Edge, then turns and looks to see if Rude is there, then looks back at Edge who grabs the back of Miz’s head and falls to his knees, dropping Miz throat first onto the rope as he’s launched backward off the apron and falls to the floor.
Tom Phillips: This is despicable! They know that Miz is going to tear them apart once he’s legal and that’s why they’re cutting all these corners to make sure he can’t tag in!
Corey Graves: Tear them apart? Ha! The only thing Miz can tear apart is in his own head! You heard all that self-doubt!
As Miz is holding his throat on the floor and Elix is in the ring holding his ribs, Edge cockily swaggers over to his corner as he tags in Rick Rude. As Edge steps through the ropes onto the apron and Rude steps through the ropes into the ring, the Intercontinental Champion makes his way over to the pained, “Primetime” and mocks him as he did at Judgment Day, by putting his hands on his head and swaying his hips.
It’s at this moment that Elix kips up to his feet. Once to his feet, he begins unloading on the abdomen of Rude with furious punches that he throws underhanded with both hands, as this furious flurry backs him into the corner upstage from where Edge and his corner is. As Rude is in the corner, Elix connects with a shoulder thrust, and then another. As he connects with a third, he backflips as he draws away and charges forward, running up Rude’s body and grabbing the top rope to each side as he starts violently stomping the, “Ravishing One”’s collarbone.
After many rapid stomps, Elix shifts his hands quickly from the ropes to Rick’s shoulders as he swings his legs downward and kicks him in the abdomen. Following up on the kick, Skipper monkey flips the champion as Rude tumbles through the air and hits the mat hard as he pops up holding his lower back. As he does, Elix charges and aims his legs in a dropkick angle so that the way he lands on Rude, he lands with one boot on the back of the head and the other between the shoulder blades.
Tom Phillips: Well what do you make of that, Corey?
Corey Graves: Should’ve done it on a stage that had more than bragging rights or redemption at stake. Somewhere like, oh I don’t know, the other night at Judgment Day?
Skipper looks proud of himself as he looks over at Miz who is up on the apron and extending his hand out. Elix looks at the crowd and points to Miz as the crowd pops huge which amps up Miz more as his legs are trembling on the apron. Skipper heads over to the, “A-Lister” and gives him an emphatic tag as you can hear the roof come off the place.
Miz leaps over the rope and lands on the mat as he charges across the ring and knocks Edge off of the apron. Rude gets up to his knees and as he does, Miz is right there as he begins lighting into the upper body of his recently rekindled foe with the world-renowned It Kicks as the crowd chants, “Miz!” with each one that connects.
After connecting with a few, Miz aims for the head but as he swings, Rude ducks and punches Miz in the knee of his other leg, causing it to buckle as he grabs the leg Miz was kicking with and bends it around the back of his neck and over his shoulder as he stands up, holding Miz upside down as he wrenches the leg.
Corey Graves: He’s busting out a Brock Lock, Phillips! Tell Miz to kiss his meniscus goodbye!
Tom Phillips: I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting Rick Rude to use this maneuver, but that doesn’t mean I like it a damn bit!
As Rude is tormenting Miz in the hold, things are looking grim for the must-see superstar as suddenly, Skipper slides into the ring on the side Rude is facing and clubs him in the face with a forearm strike! As all three men fall to the mat for various reasons, Miz holds his worked over leg as Elix is staying on Rude, laying into him with mounted punches.
Edge enters the ring now and heads over to break up what’s going on between Elix and Rude, but the referee reprimands him. As Edge angrily tries to muscle past the referee but remains held at bay, Bischoff climbs onto the apron in front of where Elix is attacking Rick and sprays contents of some canister he’s holding into his eyes as Elix falls to the mat, clutching at his face.
Tom Phillips: What a bunch of cowards! Can’t any of these guys play by the rules?
Corey Graves: That’s what happens when you forget you aren’t the legal man!
Tom Phillips: Elix said he was willing to do whatever it takes to win!
Corey Graves: How’s that okay but it’s not alright for the other team to do the exact same thing? You really need to start painting everyone with the same brush, Phillips!
As Rude gets up, he points at Elix and laughs then turns his attention to Miz who is up to his feet but still favoring the worked over one a bit. Rude charges Miz but Elix manages to get to him first as he pushes Miz out of the way just as Rude is attacking, taking the full brunt of the lariat that was meant for the new star of Arrow.
As Elix goes down, Miz delivers an It Kick to a standing Rude’s abdomen as he doubles over and holds where he’s been stricken in pain. Miz hooks his head and then turns so that Rude is planted onto his back with a move fans of the, “Awesome One” haven’t seen in quite some time, the Mizard of Oz. Miz goes for the cover.
ONE!
NO!
As the referee goes to slap the mat a second time, Edge enters the ring and drops a double axe handle on him. The crowd boos as Edge goes after Miz who gets up to meet him. As the two begin throwing punches, connecting at the same time as one another, suddenly Edge lands a thumb to Miz’s eye, causing him to relent on the punches.
Before the, “Rated R Superstar” can take advantage however, Skipper goes rolling toward his legs and trips him up. As Edge staggers to keep his balance, Miz regains his sight and hooks the prone Edge in the full nelson, quickly following through with the leg sweep that makes it the Skull Crushing Finale!
Soon after connecting however, Rude grabs him from behind and pulls him up, dropping him back down just as quickly with the Rude Awakening! On Rude’s way to his feet, Skipper runs over and drapes his leg over the back of Rick’s neck and connects with the Play of the Day!
Tom Phillips: Finishermania!
Corey Graves: The only thing that should be finished is your broadcasting career!
Elix grabs Miz’s wrists and drags him over to their corner then hops through the ropes onto the apron and reaches his hand out as a groggy Miz is starting to come to. Meanwhile, Edge has rolled out of the ring under the bottom rope as he’s sitting against the ring apron taking a breather while in the ring, Rude is beginning to push himself up with his arms.
Miz somewhat weakly reaches up as he and Elix tag hands as, “Primetime” eagerly leaps over the rope into the ring. He heads over to Rude and drapes his leg, looking for another Play of the Day but Rude manages to swing his arm up and outward to hit him low as he grabs the leg and stands up, applying another Brock Lock!
Corey Graves: Well since he’s making this move famous again, I say we change the name of it!
Tom Phillips: To what, genius? The Rude Lock? The Ravishing Wrench?
Corey Graves: Well he’s as known for his exploits with the ladies as he is for his domination in the ring so how about the RFD?
Tom Phillips: RFD?
Corey Graves: Ribbed For Discomfort.
Tom Phillips: Tell me, does that thing you call a hairstyle tickle Rude when you’re that high up on his nuts?
As Rude is punishing the former number one contender in the hold, Elix is desperately trying to reach the ropes but as he does, Edge grabs the rope and pulls it further away. As Edge mocks Skipper, Miz suddenly rushes him and knocks him to the floor. The referee is up and alert again while this is going on as Elix manages to grab the rope but Rude won’t let go.
The referee begins to count but Rude just cranks on the leg harder.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FI...
Before the ref can count five, Rude releases the hold but the damage has been done as Elix lies there on the mat holding his leg. Miz heads back over to the apron as Skipper desperately begins to crawl over to the corner. On the opposite side of the ring, Edge is up on the apron as well as Rude heads over and tags him in, much to the crowd’s disdain.
Edge heads over and drops a knee to the bad leg of Skipper. As Elix winces, Edge is up quickly as he drags his opponent further away from Miz. Edge rolls Elix over, grabbing his ankles and holding his legs apart as he begins stomping the inner part of the bad leg as Elix cries out in pain. Edge takes the leg now and falls sideways, slamming it against the mat before grabbing both of Skipper’s legs and stepping through them with one foot as he turns him and applies the Edgecator!
Tom Phillips: I’m not sure how long Skipper can last in that hold!
Corey Graves: Good! Losers like him and Miz need to realize their limits!
As Elix suffers in the hold, Miz decides to return the favor from earlier as he enters the ring quickly and goes after Edge but is reprimanded by the official. While Miz and the official are having it out, Miz trying to get past him, Edge releases the hold and runs up, thrusting forward with his chest as he uses Miz’s position to sandwich the referee between the two of them.
The referee goes down as Miz looks in disbelief as Edge laughs at what he’s done. But the laughing doesn’t last long as Miz kicks Edge directly in the groin as hard as he can. Edge holds his Rated R area and slinks to his knees as Miz immediately begins lighting into him with It Kicks. While this is happening, Elix manages to get to his feet and, in perhaps a rush of adrenaline, plants the hurt foot and begins to throw his own It Kicks with his other leg.
Tom Phillips: It Kicks from both sides!
Corey Graves: Would you stop endorsing this? I mean it’s complete anarchy, there’s no order in this contest!
Unsurprisingly, Rude enters the ring as he kicks Skipper in the back of his weak leg and as it buckles and he falls back, Rude bends and lunges so that he has Primetime sprawled out on his shoulders. Rick stands up and puts Elix in a brief Torture Rack before throwing him off of his shoulders into Miz as both men are taken to the mat.
Rude helps Edge to his feet as the two go after their opponents. Rick grabs Elix’s arms and holds them behind his back, leading him to his feet and turning him towards Edge as the, “Rated R Superstar” begins unloading on his stomach with punches. As Miz is getting up, Rude throws a kick to his forehead to knock him back down as he then throws Elix upward and Edge catches him in powerbomb position, Rick letting go of his hold as Edge turns and powerbombs Skipper right onto Miz!
Corey Graves: Now that’s what you call teamwork!
Tom Phillips: What a shock that you feel that way.
As the referee is coming to, Rude steps through the ropes and returns to his place on the apron as Edge grabs Elix and guides him to his feet, nudging Miz out of the ring with his foot before planting Skipper hard with an Edgecution. Edge rolls him over now and makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Somehow, some way, Elix gets the shoulder up as the crowd pops as Edge, Bischoff, and Rude look like they can’t believe it. As Elix sits up, he looks a little shocked himself.
Tom Phillips: The heart and soul of Primetime on full display here!
Corey Graves: Well he’s still got a bum leg and has taken a beating so unless someone gives him a Senzu, let’s be honest, he’s just delaying the inevitable!
Tom Phillips: You know, I bet even in exchanging your wedding vows you were the heel.
Corey Graves: What’s that supposed to mean?
Elix and Edge are standing face-to-face as Edge slaps Elix as hard and as disrespectfully as he can. Skipper snaps back with a look of fire in his eyes as he slaps Edge back, then gives him a violent shove as the RRS tries to maintain his balance. As Edge stops himself and begins back in Elix’s direction, Elix runs and leaps up at an angle, springing off the top rope and connecting with a Triangle Dropkick!
Edge is knocked into the corner by this as Miz leans around and delivers a forearm across the chest as, soon after impact, Elix leaps up and hooks his legs around his head, connecting with a Frankensteiner. Skipper now heads over to his corner and tags in Miz as the two quickly trade places. Miz charges the sitting and dazed Edge and leaps over him, grabbing his head so that when he lands, it’s sort of a half-Cutter.
With his opponent sprawled out on the mat now, Miz is up as he stands at his head and looks out to the crowd who are cheering him like they’ve never cheered him before. Miz thinks for a moment, then kicks Edge’s collarbone before running into the ropes. As he comes off of them and returns to Edge’s side, he emits a cry of, “AAAAWWWWWEEEESSOOOOMMMEEE!” before dropping an elbow into the heart of his opponent.
As Edge sits up holding his chest, Miz guides him the rest of the way to his feet then picks him up, dropping him with the flowsion technique he refers to as the Emerald Arrow!
Miz goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
As Edge gets the shoulder up, Miz hooks it in a half nelson and guides Edge forcefully up so that he can apply the full nelson. Miz goes for the leg sweep to complete the move but Rude enters the ring and blows past the referee, breaking up the full nelson. As Edge falls to the mat, Rude goozles Miz with both hands and begins choking him out as Elix gets up on the top rope.
Elix goes to leap but his bad leg buckles right as he does so it messes things up as he face plants next to Miz. Rude pushes Miz over Elix as the, “A-Lister” loses his balance and falls backward and down into the ropes. As he comes off the ropes, Rude grabs him and turns him, hitting the Rude Awakening. Rude exits the ring as the crowd is booing furiously while Edge is up and sizing up his opponent.
Corey Graves: That slip-up trying to save the day is what you call Primetime egg on your face, Phillips!
Tom Phillips: I’d rather have egg on my face than letting my favorite wrestler finish there.
The crowd is chanting, “Miz is Awe-some!” in between claps and stomps as they’re trying to will the actor/wrestler back to cognizance. Miz grabs the middle rope and pulls himself up, draping himself over it as he tries to take a breather as well as shake off the cobwebs. Edge looks nearly psychotic as he’s chomping at the bit to spear Miz as Miz backs off of the middle rope and begins to turn around.
As Miz turns, Edge charges but much like earlier in the match, Elix shoves him out of the way and Edge hits him with a Spear so impactful, both men go flying through the ropes to the outside, each of them landing nastily.
Tom Phillips: Skipper dove on the grenade again! What a tag team partner!
Corey Graves: Still just delaying the inevitable in my opinion.
Tom Phillips: Really? Because it looks like Edge may have knocked himself out on that one!
The referee begins to count the “Rated R Superstar” out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Edge is still lying flat on his back, not moving a muscle. Bischoff is trying to get him to come to but the referee stops his count and the two begin arguing. After a moment, the referee has finally had enough as he communicates with his body language that he’s ejecting Eric from ringside. He looks furious as he stomps off and heads up the ramp as the referee restarts his count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Edge’s fingers are starting to twitch as well as his right foot.
FOUR!
Edge puts his hands down at his sides and begins to push himself up.
FIVE!
In the ring, Miz is watching as Edge is up to a sitting position but is hanging his head, holding it in pain.
SIX!
Edge plants his hands at his sides again, pushing himself up.
SEVEN!
As Edge is halfway up on his hands and feet, his arms and legs are trembling violently as Miz climbs up to the top turnbuckle.
EIGHT!
As Miz is perched and ready to strike, Rude comes charging along the apron and goes for a double axe handle as Edge is back to a vertical base.
NINE!
Miz somehow scouts the strike as, in an impressive show of athleticism he backflips and lands on the apron behind Rude, locking him in a full nelson as he bounces off the turnbuckle pad. Meanwhile, Edge is limping as quickly as possible towards the ring.
TE...
Just as the referee is about to count ten, Edge slides into the ring. As this happens, Miz sweeps the leg of the Intercontinental Champion and gives him a Skull Crushing Finale onto the apron as both men fall to the floor.
Tom Phillips: Good Lord! We’ve seen Miz do that before but it’s one of those sights you never get used to!
Corey Graves: Considering he put a flip on it and had Rude’s momentum to use against him, you have to imagine that one had some extra stank on it.
Tom Phillips: Did you hit your head too?
Corey Graves: What kind of question is that? I’m just calling the match, Phillips!
On the outside of the ring, Miz is to his feet but noticeably limping as he seems to have tweaked his knee somewhere in all the chaos as he begins to make his way towards the ring. Inside of it, Edge isn’t out of the woods yet as even though he avoided being counted out, he must now avoid being counted down. The referee looks at Miz and then looks at Edge and starts to count them simultaneously, looking back and forth between each of them after each number.
ONE!
Miz has made a light step as Edge grabs the bottom rope on the side of the ring he recently entered from.
TWO!
Miz makes another step as Edge pulls himself toward the rope and pushes down on it with his hands to elevate himself.
THREE!
Miz takes a few quick steps, losing his balance as he catches himself on the ring apron as in the ring, Edge drapes one arm over the middle rope.
FOUR!
Miz pushes off of the apron, straightening his arms out as Edge drapes his other arm over the middle rope.
FIVE!
Miz returns to a vertical base and lets go of the apron as Edge pulls up and manages to find half of his footing as he’s sort of at a slouched stand.
SIX!
Miz takes another light step toward the ring as Skipper is making his way around from where he is to where Miz is.
SEVEN!
Edge grabs the top rope and rises from a slouched stance to a vertical base as Elix gets closer to Miz.
EIGHT!
Edge steps away from the ropes and staggers toward the center of the ring. Miz dives under the bottom rope to try and enter the ring. The ref is just counting him now.
NINE!
Miz only seems to get a little way there before his lower half of his body starts to slide backward out of the ring.
TE...
Skipper grabs Miz’s legs and turns them toward and into the ring, giving his partner some added leverage and putting him back in the ring at the last possible millisecond. Elix makes his way back around the ring toward his corner as, in the ring, a winded and still visibly groggy Edge looks down at Miz who is beginning to sit up.
Tom Phillips: The close calls just keep coming in this one. I don’t know how or when this one is going to end.
Corey Graves: All four men have put their bodies through hell, showing not just how personal this is, but that they belong in the main event.
Tom Phillips: Seriously, can you hear yourself? You just called Elix Skipper a main eventer!
Corey Graves: So?
Tom Phillips: So you’ve been berating him and Miz all match long!
Corey Graves: Quit mudslinging, Phillips. You’re making both of us look bad.
Miz puts his hands down at his sides and begins to push up as Edge seems to finally be getting his focus back. Miz gets to his feet at last as he and Edge eye each other, the crowd coming more alive just when it seemed they were at the height of their excitement.
The two begin to gradually circle one another, but after one revolution they begin to cover more ground and as a result, Rude is able to reach into the ring and tap Miz on the shoulder. Miz turns and takes a swing at Rude but he avoids it and as Miz turns back to Edge, he’s hit with a Spear! It feels like the entire arena is booing as Edge collapses over top of Miz.
ONE!
TWO!
THR..NO!
During the ruckus, Elix dropped from the apron and began searching under the ring. As the referee’s about to count three, Elix enters the ring and absolutely waylays him in the head with a steel chair! As the referee goes down, Skipper rolls Edge off of Miz and is laying into the, “Rated R Superstar” with furious chair shots.
Corey Graves: Elix Skipper has snapped!
Tom Phillips: I understand not wanting Edge and Rude to cheat to win, but he’s giving them the match this way too!
Corey Graves: I don’t think he’s thinking about that, Phillips!
Elix turns from Edge and heads towards Rude who is entering the ring and hits him just as hard as he possibly can in the head with the chair as Rude goes down. Elix throws the chair down and exits the ring, heading up the ramp still seething as medical staff and other referees blow past him on their way to the ring.
Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen your winners as a result of a disqualification....Rick Rude and Edge!
With everyone still laid out in the ring, the camera gets one last shot of an angry Skipper as Revolution goes off the air.
CREDITS
Promos- Respective TT’ers
Trips/Callihan-Semi
Everything else- Dres
