Post by Dres on Feb 2, 2019 13:06:08 GMT -6
Assistant Director: “Quiet on the set!”
The set quiets down heavily, barely any noise can be heard as the camera fades in to a fancy-looking alleyway set, nondescript shops with a few logos referencing various continuity nods in the background as on set are actors Stephen Amell and David Ramsay, but to the fans of Arrow, they are more well known as Oliver Queen, aka Green Arrow, and John Diggle, an ex-soldier who now works for A.R.G.U.S. The pair are just barely out of view of the main cameras, of course mentally rehearsing one last time.
Assistant Director: “Sound ready?”
A quick “ready” emerges, giving the AD the cue to continue on
Assistant Director: “Camera ready?”
Another ready, and it keeps going with two more calls until finally…..
Director: “ACTION!”
After about a second and a half of sitting on just the “city”, Amell and Ramsay walk into view, full costumes, with a second of pause between each step. Ramsay stands behind Amell as the two walk into view. All the while, Mike Mizanin, otherwise known as The Miz or, in this case, Vic Sage, also known as “The Question”.
-FLASHBACK-
Miz: “Are you sure? I thought the ones above had said that he was being saved? Besides, you told me I’d be playing a random villain during the last meeting-”
Network Executive: “We talked to them, and finally got them to relent. Even with Aquaman’s success, they finally agreed that The Question would be a perfect fit for The Arrowverse, and we want you to play him!”
Miz: “Okay, but I thought this was going to be a one-off appearance?”
Network Executive: “Oh, it is, Mr. Mizanin, BUT we’re leaving it open for the fans, and for you, so he can return in future episodes. Obviously, that’s going to be dependent on your schedule in the UWF and if we can come to an agreement…”
Miz: “But that doesn’t answer the second half of what I said, you had told me-”
Network Executive: “I know what I said, Mike, and that was more so a test for you than anything. We hadn’t worked out everything about the next season and after we got the greenlight to be using The Question, we decided to give you a more major role. Now, again, the question is if your schedule is going to allow for you to be filming multiple episodes at a time.”
Miz thinks for a second, discussing with himself about it mentally…
Miz: “On the one hand, The Question is just...the dude is great! Like his stuff in the Justice League cartoon was cool, and to think they want me to play him! The credibility would be awesome, just a great way to disprove doubters. But then...between this, the UWF, and Maryse and Monroe…..”
“I just don’t know, I like the role, but…”
[/color][/center]The set quiets down heavily, barely any noise can be heard as the camera fades in to a fancy-looking alleyway set, nondescript shops with a few logos referencing various continuity nods in the background as on set are actors Stephen Amell and David Ramsay, but to the fans of Arrow, they are more well known as Oliver Queen, aka Green Arrow, and John Diggle, an ex-soldier who now works for A.R.G.U.S. The pair are just barely out of view of the main cameras, of course mentally rehearsing one last time.
Assistant Director: “Sound ready?”
A quick “ready” emerges, giving the AD the cue to continue on
Assistant Director: “Camera ready?”
Another ready, and it keeps going with two more calls until finally…..
Director: “ACTION!”
After about a second and a half of sitting on just the “city”, Amell and Ramsay walk into view, full costumes, with a second of pause between each step. Ramsay stands behind Amell as the two walk into view. All the while, Mike Mizanin, otherwise known as The Miz or, in this case, Vic Sage, also known as “The Question”.
-FLASHBACK-
Miz: “Are you sure? I thought the ones above had said that he was being saved? Besides, you told me I’d be playing a random villain during the last meeting-”
Network Executive: “We talked to them, and finally got them to relent. Even with Aquaman’s success, they finally agreed that The Question would be a perfect fit for The Arrowverse, and we want you to play him!”
Miz: “Okay, but I thought this was going to be a one-off appearance?”
Network Executive: “Oh, it is, Mr. Mizanin, BUT we’re leaving it open for the fans, and for you, so he can return in future episodes. Obviously, that’s going to be dependent on your schedule in the UWF and if we can come to an agreement…”
Miz: “But that doesn’t answer the second half of what I said, you had told me-”
Network Executive: “I know what I said, Mike, and that was more so a test for you than anything. We hadn’t worked out everything about the next season and after we got the greenlight to be using The Question, we decided to give you a more major role. Now, again, the question is if your schedule is going to allow for you to be filming multiple episodes at a time.”
Miz thinks for a second, discussing with himself about it mentally…
Miz: “On the one hand, The Question is just...the dude is great! Like his stuff in the Justice League cartoon was cool, and to think they want me to play him! The credibility would be awesome, just a great way to disprove doubters. But then...between this, the UWF, and Maryse and Monroe…..”
“I just don’t know, I like the role, but…”
Network Executive: “Buuuuuttt…..”
Miz: “Well...I love The Question as a character, and I, I’m not sure if I can do him justice. I remember his stuff in the Justice League cartoon and he was just played so well-”
Network Executive: “Who played him?”
The question catches Miz off-guard, trying to buy time for himself to think.
Miz: “-what?”
Network Executive: “I never watched the show before, Justice League…whatever it was. Who played The Question in that show?”
Miz tries his best to recall, going through the letters of the alphabet even one by one, until finally-
Miz: “Jeffrey Combs...right? I, I think that’s who it was?”
The Executive pulls out his phone, typing it in with swift speed, only looking up at Miz and nodding.
Miz: “But anyways, between that and me already struggling as is to be a parent with the UWF’s schedule, I don’t want to miss my girl growing up.”
Network Executive: “Alright, well you’ve signed the contract for one appearance already, so why don’t we do this: you go on for the show, the one episode, and if you like the environment, if you like the character, the performance, whatever it is. If you want to keep going, then we’ll draft up another contract for a series of episodes, you fine with that, Mr. Mizanin?”
-END FLASHBACK-
Green Arrow: “....you’re sure that they are that strong?”
John Diggle: “Well, Canary had nearly killed one of them with her cry, and even then she wouldn’t crack under the torture, so we can tell that they’re resilient.”
Green Arrow: “That sounds like an understatement.”
It was now his cue, as Miz walks onto the screen, a special mask over his face covering his facial features, only leaving the indentations as well as holes for him to breath and speak through, representing The Question’s artificial skin, with his hair dyed a deep black.
The Question: “Oliver Queen...The Green Arrow…?”
Amell spins around alongside Diggle, with both ready to fight.
The Question: “Woah, woah, slow your roll there. I’m not here for a fight...I just wanted to ask a few questions about your time in Slabside, is that fine?”
Green Arrow: “Who are you?”
The Question: “Why’d you need to know? All you should know is that I am only wanting to help, right?”
Not dropping their guards, Diggle and Queen turn to each other, before finally nodding to each other with Arrow turning back first, hand still ready to grab an arrow from the quiver.
Green Arrow: “Fine, fine, I’ll answer a few questions.”
The Question: “Alright then, what do you know about what happened at Slabside?”
Director: “CUT!”
As those on “stage” stop, Miz mentally flinches waiting for the director to go over to him, as they had already had to stop four times on this one scene, but instead they just stand up, staying there.
Director: “Alright, alright, that one was great, take five everyone!”
Miz begins walking off from the stage, quickly pulling the mask off and taking a deep breath. Just as he seems about to walk off fully, he is stopped by Amell.
Miz: “What?”
Stephen Amell: “That was pretty good. Definitely shows that you were an actor before this.”
Miz: “R-Really? Thank you very much, dude.”
Stephen Amell: “Yeah, no problem. But this is supposed to be your only episode, correct?”
Miz: “Well...I’m not sure. They offered me to come back for a few episodes if this one went well and so far, I haven’t been yelled at for what I’ve been doing, so hopefully I’ve been not overperforming, underperforming-”
Stephen Amell: “No, no, no not at all. Besides, it’s a comic book show so overacting at times could be good, trust me, I’ve been here a while now obviously, playing the lead.”
Miz: “So what exactly am I supposed to be doing after this?”
Stephen Amell: “What do you mean?”
Miz: “I mean, what is The Question’s deal if I sign on for more episodes. It’s coming up on a time the UWF need me, so the schedule will be very hectic, and I’m going to need to talk to my wife about the proposition.”
Stephen Amell: “Of course, of course, take your time, Mike. It’s still great to be working with you, especially with the overlap of wrestling fans back when Cody was here. Outside of that, though, it won’t be too bad. They wouldn’t have you be appearing each and every episode, so there’ll probably be only a few episodes with you there, you’re supposed to be a guest star, after all.”
Miz: “Wait, why didn’t I think of that before? Yeah, alright thanks Stephen. I’ll be staying on then!”
Stephen Amell: “No problem, Mike. Now, think it’s about time for the next scene, so go get ready.”
Miz: “Yeah, yeah, back into this damn mask…”
Miz pulls the mask back over his head, giving a thumbs up to Stephen before walking back to the set, Amell following suit. About a minute or two later, with everything set to go, the four words are heard once more…
Assistant Director: “QUIET ON THE SET!”
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 another great edition of Revolution! I’m Tom Phillips.
Corey Graves: And I’m Corey Graves. Well, Tom, safe to say things continue to go off the rails around here.
Tom Phillips: A lot of questions definitely.
Corey Graves: Well we do know one thing, and that’s that we have another night of great in-ring action planned. Like Chris Jericho’s return to action to take on Christian.
Tom Phillips: Not only that, but Triple H gets to take on another newcomer in Riddick Moss.
Corey Graves: And in a clash of the champions, it’ll be Rick Rude versus Aleister Black.
Tom Phillips: Also on the docket it’s Jay White taking on the returning Tomasso Ciampa.
Corey Graves: And in our main event, The Miz takes on his partner from last week, Elix Skipper.
Tom Phillips: But before we get started with all that...
[/color]Miz: “Well...I love The Question as a character, and I, I’m not sure if I can do him justice. I remember his stuff in the Justice League cartoon and he was just played so well-”
Network Executive: “Who played him?”
The question catches Miz off-guard, trying to buy time for himself to think.
Miz: “-what?”
Network Executive: “I never watched the show before, Justice League…whatever it was. Who played The Question in that show?”
Miz tries his best to recall, going through the letters of the alphabet even one by one, until finally-
Miz: “Jeffrey Combs...right? I, I think that’s who it was?”
The Executive pulls out his phone, typing it in with swift speed, only looking up at Miz and nodding.
Miz: “But anyways, between that and me already struggling as is to be a parent with the UWF’s schedule, I don’t want to miss my girl growing up.”
Network Executive: “Alright, well you’ve signed the contract for one appearance already, so why don’t we do this: you go on for the show, the one episode, and if you like the environment, if you like the character, the performance, whatever it is. If you want to keep going, then we’ll draft up another contract for a series of episodes, you fine with that, Mr. Mizanin?”
-END FLASHBACK-
Green Arrow: “....you’re sure that they are that strong?”
John Diggle: “Well, Canary had nearly killed one of them with her cry, and even then she wouldn’t crack under the torture, so we can tell that they’re resilient.”
Green Arrow: “That sounds like an understatement.”
It was now his cue, as Miz walks onto the screen, a special mask over his face covering his facial features, only leaving the indentations as well as holes for him to breath and speak through, representing The Question’s artificial skin, with his hair dyed a deep black.
The Question: “Oliver Queen...The Green Arrow…?”
Amell spins around alongside Diggle, with both ready to fight.
The Question: “Woah, woah, slow your roll there. I’m not here for a fight...I just wanted to ask a few questions about your time in Slabside, is that fine?”
Green Arrow: “Who are you?”
The Question: “Why’d you need to know? All you should know is that I am only wanting to help, right?”
Not dropping their guards, Diggle and Queen turn to each other, before finally nodding to each other with Arrow turning back first, hand still ready to grab an arrow from the quiver.
Green Arrow: “Fine, fine, I’ll answer a few questions.”
The Question: “Alright then, what do you know about what happened at Slabside?”
Director: “CUT!”
As those on “stage” stop, Miz mentally flinches waiting for the director to go over to him, as they had already had to stop four times on this one scene, but instead they just stand up, staying there.
Director: “Alright, alright, that one was great, take five everyone!”
Miz begins walking off from the stage, quickly pulling the mask off and taking a deep breath. Just as he seems about to walk off fully, he is stopped by Amell.
Miz: “What?”
Stephen Amell: “That was pretty good. Definitely shows that you were an actor before this.”
Miz: “R-Really? Thank you very much, dude.”
Stephen Amell: “Yeah, no problem. But this is supposed to be your only episode, correct?”
Miz: “Well...I’m not sure. They offered me to come back for a few episodes if this one went well and so far, I haven’t been yelled at for what I’ve been doing, so hopefully I’ve been not overperforming, underperforming-”
Stephen Amell: “No, no, no not at all. Besides, it’s a comic book show so overacting at times could be good, trust me, I’ve been here a while now obviously, playing the lead.”
Miz: “So what exactly am I supposed to be doing after this?”
Stephen Amell: “What do you mean?”
Miz: “I mean, what is The Question’s deal if I sign on for more episodes. It’s coming up on a time the UWF need me, so the schedule will be very hectic, and I’m going to need to talk to my wife about the proposition.”
Stephen Amell: “Of course, of course, take your time, Mike. It’s still great to be working with you, especially with the overlap of wrestling fans back when Cody was here. Outside of that, though, it won’t be too bad. They wouldn’t have you be appearing each and every episode, so there’ll probably be only a few episodes with you there, you’re supposed to be a guest star, after all.”
Miz: “Wait, why didn’t I think of that before? Yeah, alright thanks Stephen. I’ll be staying on then!”
Stephen Amell: “No problem, Mike. Now, think it’s about time for the next scene, so go get ready.”
Miz: “Yeah, yeah, back into this damn mask…”
Miz pulls the mask back over his head, giving a thumbs up to Stephen before walking back to the set, Amell following suit. About a minute or two later, with everything set to go, the four words are heard once more…
Assistant Director: “QUIET ON THE SET!”
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 another great edition of Revolution! I’m Tom Phillips.
Corey Graves: And I’m Corey Graves. Well, Tom, safe to say things continue to go off the rails around here.
Tom Phillips: A lot of questions definitely.
Corey Graves: Well we do know one thing, and that’s that we have another night of great in-ring action planned. Like Chris Jericho’s return to action to take on Christian.
Tom Phillips: Not only that, but Triple H gets to take on another newcomer in Riddick Moss.
Corey Graves: And in a clash of the champions, it’ll be Rick Rude versus Aleister Black.
Tom Phillips: Also on the docket it’s Jay White taking on the returning Tomasso Ciampa.
Corey Graves: And in our main event, The Miz takes on his partner from last week, Elix Skipper.
Tom Phillips: But before we get started with all that...
The feed is suddenly interrupted.
Dr. Cube shows up on the screen behind a desk.
Dr. Cube: Good evening Boils and Gruels, supreme overlord cube interrupting this dreadful program to drag your mush filled minds from the gutters you call your skulls, and into the future in which we call science! It fills this cold blackened heart of mine with such joy knowing that the UWF roster has fear and paranoia stricken into their very essence. My army of minions are everywhere perfectly concocted with the most complex of algorithms to make the next opponent they face their worst nightmare! The best part? It could be anyone! Your parents, your best friends, your siblings even your very own grandmother will be under than hands of CUBE!
He laughs evilly before coughing a little and staring into the camera
Dr. Cube: Who is going to stop me? That Drunkard that is in charge? The Midget that is bossed around by meatheads night after night? NO! Because none of them can comprehend the inner machinations that comprise the perfect mind that is Cube. They will know not of the despair that will befall upon the UWF until it is far too late for them to act, and by that time I will only be laughing watching the company and the world beg for mercy before my very hands! THIS WEEK IS ONLY THE BEGINNING! The moment the brands reunite is the moment the invasion wins you have all sealed your DOOM!
He laughs as it fades out into static.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
HAIL! HAIL!
As the chant begins over the arena's sound system, 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.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent.. already in the ring and accompanied by Dr. Cube, Riddick Moss!
The first minion in the army of Dr. Cube poses and stands in the corner, waiting for the bell to ring
DING DING!
the bell rings and both walk into the center of the ring, immediately entering a collar and elbow tie up but no one seems to get the upper hand! both men try to get a more dominant position and finally Triple H is able to grab a wristlock by feinting a headlock, HHH wrenches the arm once and fakes another time before going around Moss and locking in a hammerlock! Moss is having none of tho as he just elbows King Nothing right in the nose! the hit causes Hunter to release the grip and lose his balance so Moss takes advantage of that and tries to shoulder tackle his foe but he only moves an inch! Moss is shocked and Hunter just adjusts his nose and chuckles, Moss doesn't waste time and this time charges the ropes before hitting another tackle, Triple H still barely moves!! he again chuckles and tells Moss to try it again, this time Moss charges the ropes, rebounds off the opposite ropes and again rebounds off the ropes before hitting HHH but that still doesn't move him!!
Tom Phillips: Oh my god Corey look at that toughness from Triple H, that's around 255 pounds who hit him with a lot of momentum and he barely moved!
Corey Graves: OK that's somewhat impressive.
Moss looks at Dr. Cube shocked and Cube returns the same look to Moss, Triple H just laughs and says it's now his turn, he charges the ropes and goes for a closeline but Moss ducks under, hooks the arm, then the other arm, lifts him and drops him face first with the Gory Bomb! he rushes into the pin, hooking one leg in the process
1....
tw...
NO!
Triple H kicks out! Riddy Mo ain't so surprised this time and just returns to work on HHH, he picks him up from the ground in the cradle position, yells something about world domination and throws Hunter with the Fallaway Slam! Hunter lands on the other side of the ring, clutching his back in pain while Moss just laughs at him, Moss then turns around to face Hunter and wait for him to get up, after a few moments he gets up using the ropes and when Moss charges him he drops down with the rope and sends him flying into ringside! Moss lands awkwardly on his back but doesn't stay down long and gets up almost immediately, clutching his back, he gets up on the apron trying to grab Trips but the latter grabs Moss' neck before he's able to do anything and drops him throat first into the top rope! Trips stumble into the corner where he wants to recover while Moss clutches his throat while coughing like an old man dying on cancer and the ref starts counting
1!
2!
Moss strugles to get up as he still has trouble breathing and now Triple H recovered fully and is waiting for Moss to enter
3!
4!
Moss now breathes normally and uses the apron to get and slide back into the ring and the moment he stands up Triple H starts barraging him with punches to the face! Moss stumbles back and with his back to the ropes Dr.cube shouts at him to shove Trips away and he does so, he pushes Trips to the middle of the ring and charges him looking for another shoulder tackle but this time Hunter squats down in time, grabs a hold of Moss' legs and lifts him up just to turn 180 degrees and drop him with the spinebuster!
Corey Graves: Here's that spinebuster we've been promised, Phillips!
Tom Phillips: And King Nothing looks k-okay!
Corey Graves: First of all never say that again and second of all, he's still a very old man, let's just keep the ambulance at bay for now.
Triple H starts aggressively doing the crotch chop taunt and yelling at the downed Moss but quickly gets back to his senses and goes to pin him, hooking both legs
1...
2...
NO!
Moss kicks out! the former owner of UWF sits on his knee and just shakes his head, smiling, he mounts Moss and begins to rain punches on him while the debuting superstar is doing everything he can to defend his face, Dr. Cube starts to panic so he pushes a big button on his controller and suddenly Moss just pushes Trips off of him and stands up! Triple H is caught off guard and isn't focused so Moss takes advantage of that and finally drops him with the shoulder tackle! he starts to pump his own chest and yell while the crowd just boo him, he finishes taunting quickly and he starts charging the downed Hunter, skipping over him and instead rebounding off the ropes just to return and drop a stiff elbow right onto Hunter's lungs! Moss doesn't stop and the second he gets up he drops yet another elbow! he does it one more time and then when he gets up, instead of dropping another elbow he spits right into Triple H's face!
Tom Phillips Oh come on, what's the point in that?
Corey Graves: What do you mean Cole? he's showing King Nothing that he truly does mean nothing to mean, that's the whole point of the match!
Riddick goes around the ring, holding his arm in the air and yelling that he's the new king now as Dr. Cube cheers on, he stops near Dr. Cube who tells gets up on the apron and whispers something into his ear, Moss just nods, he goes over to Triple H who is trying to get up using the ropes maybe to trick Moss again but Moss is smarter this time, he begins arrogantly kicking Trips in the face, not attempting to do much damage but instead just to insult him, Triple H gets angry and starts to stare down Moss, the death stare of the Cerebral Assassin probably erases the smile off of Moss' face and he panics, immediately picking up Trips onto his shoulders and attempting to drop him with a Powerslam but sees that coming and counter the move with an elbow right into Moss' jaw! Moss lets go of Trips and stumbles back just to get kicked in the gut which makes him fall down to one knee, Triple H sees the opportunity to end this as he turns his back to Moss, hooks both of his arms and lifts him up to then drop him onto his neck with the King's Justice! Dr. Cube plants his head in his hands, he knows his minion is done as Triple H goes for the cover
1...
2...
3!
DING DING!
The ref raises Triple H's hand as Riddick Moss lays motionless on the mat and the feed moves elsewhere.
The cameras head to the back where we see Tommaso Ciampa holding a folder of some kind. He is reading through and nodding along. He notices the cameramen and quickly hides the folder.
Tommaso Ciampa: “HEY! What the hell are you doing back here?! Do you know what this is?!”
Ciampa points the folder then picks it up. The cameramen shake their heads, they have no idea what they’ve got themselves in for.
Tommaso Ciampa: “This, my friends, is Project: Ciampa.”
Ciampa shows the front of the folder.
The cameramen begin to chuckle at the sight of the folder, especially the picture that Tommaso has paperclipped to it…
Tommaso Ciampa: “What? What’s so funny?”
Ciampa notices what they’re laughing at and quickly removes it.
Tommaso Ciampa: “Erm.. that’s just a picture that I found on the floor of the locker room.. These guys err.. really like Gargano I guess..”
The cameramen look at each other with grins on their faces. Ciampa quickly changes the topic.
Tommaso Ciampa: “ANYWAY, it’s none of your business to be back here, this folder holds the key to my success, my plans. You’ll all get to see it unfold before your very eyes so I’m keeping this thing under wraps and you daren’t stop me! No one will get their hands on Project: Ciampa. If anyone decides to try and read it, I will not be held responsible for what will happen to them.”
Ciampa begins to address his match later tonight.
“So Jay White, tonight, you will be the first to feel the wrath of the Blackheart. You will learn that Project: Ciampa is not to be taken as a joke. It’s written in the stars, kid and your horoscope says that tonight, you are getting to be beaten from pillar to post. Maybe you cameramen should try and find Switchblade instead. I’m sure he’s afraid because his worst nightmare is here.. no.. not a haircut.. ME! The Sicillian Psychopath, The Psycho Killer, Tommy Sports Entertainment; The Blackheart, Tommaso Ciampa. Let this be a warning not only to Jay but to everybody on the roster. Take care of yourselves tonight but watch your backs because you never know when Uncle Tommy might be lurking around. Now, get the hell out of my locker room!"
The cameramen quickly leave and the shot fades..
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...
With the familiar heartbeat echoing around the arena. There is no doubt as to who is about to make his entrance.
NO ONE WILL SURVIVE!
And here comes Ciampa! He steps out onto the stage and takes a rather disgruntled look into the crowd. He nods his head slowly to the beat of his theme song as the boos echo around the arena almost drowning the theme song out. He takes a look at the ring and begins to walk, as he fiercely paces down the ramp, you can tell he means business.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Weighing at 201 lbs; Tommaso Ciampa!
Ciampa enters the ring and raises his arm, he knows he's the best. As he bathes in the boos of the UWF fans, he quickly removes his jacket and backs into the turnbuckle - no nonsense. Ciampa is ready to go!
DING DING!
As soon as the bell rings Jay White steps forward and shouts straight over to Ciampa standing in the other corner, “You ain’t nothing mate!”. Ciampa then looks around as if he’s talking to someone else, but then shortly after signals if he’s talking to him. Before Jay can insult him any further Ciampa has already headed over to the corner and gets face to face with White.
Corey Graves: “Surely Ciampa isn’t the type of person who’d take insults from a guy like Jay White? I feel like this is going to get a little heated up in here.”
White pushes him back, making Ciampa fall backwards down. White then goes for a run up penalty kick on Ciampa, but Ciampa drop toe holds him down to his face. Ciampa then mounts on top of Jay White and begins to rally in the forearms to the back of his head, over and over and over.
Tom Phillips: “C’mon referee, they banned that in mixed martial arts for a reason! He’s going to leave some serious damage if he doesn’t step in.”
The referee then tries to pull Ciampa away slightly, as this could legitimately give him some brain damage. Ciampa then gets in the referee’s face questioning his authority. He then turns back to White and takes him to the outside.
1!
Ciampa then leads White by his head and slams it on the apron. He then starts to rub it down on the mat and drags him along to the post. Ciampa pulls White’s face off the apron and then holds him by the hair to control him.
2!
Ciampa then throws White directly into the ring post, with his hair swaying backwards off the amount of force he throws him at. Ciampa then grabs him back up almost instantly and rests White’s head against the ring post.
Tom Phillips: “Uh-oh.”
3!
Ciampa then steps backwards and then runs back at White and knees his back sending his head crashing into the ring post with a lot of impact. Ciampa then takes his foot and rests it against the back of White’s head.
4!
Ciampa then lures his foot off the back of his head and then smashes back down at it stomping directly on the top of his head. Ciampa then takes his foot and does it again… and again… and again.
5!
Ciampa then picks up the nearly unconscious Jay White off the post and he begins to run with his limp body. He then turns him inside out and throws him into the barricade. Ciampa relishes in the fan majority disapproval.
6!
Corey Graves: “Ciampa better move this in the ring, otherwise we’ll be looking at a double countout right here.”
Ciampa looks down at White laying there helpless on the ground and simply giggles at his dismay. He then walks away, and rolls straight back into the ring.
Tom Phillips: “C’mon Ciampa are you really going to take that cheap, pointless countout win on your return match.”
7!
White is seemingly not moving on the outside, and this far into the count is quite concerning to the audience, they want to see more. Ciampa peers over the top rope to stare at White.
8!
Ciampa spits out of the ring directly at the potentially unconscious White grounded. He then drops and slowly gets to the outside. The referee restarts the count.
1!
Ciampa picks up White and leans him against the barricade. He then swoops for a double leg and drapes him over the top section of the barricade. He then hooks the head of White and reels his body out of the crowd a little more.
2!
White is then dropped directly on the top of his head with the draped DDT. Ciampa then sits up from the bump he just took and then looks over at the crowd. He begins to clap for himself and pats himself on the back several times.
Corey Graves: “I’d usually vouch for guys like Ciampa… but this? It’s just sick. Someone- can someone stop him?”
3!
Ciampa then picks up White by his head, with the ragdoll body following him. Ciampa chucks him into the ring lacklusterly and looks around before following him into the ring. He then drags White up and whips him over to the corner.
Ciampa then runs over and knees White in the midsection, which he immediately falls down to a seated position. Ciampa then begins to lay in relentless boots into White and the referee begins to look extremely concerned.
Corey Graves: “For god’s sake please! Someone get down there, he’s going to kill him! He will! Hell, he could already be dead! What’s wrong with Ciampa!”
Tom Phillips: “I must add though Corey, White hasn’t fought back since the start of this match, which is quite strange. I think it’s a bit too late for him to come back from this scale of a beating however.”
White continues to receive the boots of Ciampa one after another. The referee starts to politely ask Ciampa to back away, but Ciampa simply ignores him. The referee then pulls Ciampa back by his arms and swoops into White to check up on him.
Out of nowhere Jay White starts to cough, quite rapidly, which then results in a big pool of blood squirting out of his mouth, which the referee sees a signal to end the match early. The referee goes to call for the bell, but Ciampa grabs his arm.
Corey Graves: “Ciampa! Let him end the match! The man needs to go to hospital as soon as possible, this could be extremely critical!”
Ciampa heads to the corner and then carries White out of the corner, drooling blood out of his mouth. He then throws him up in a Powerbomb position and then lands Project Ciampa on White! He then hooks both the legs on White as the referee counts.
One…
Two…
Three!
DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, “Blackheart” Tomasso Ciampa!”
Ciampa then stands with both his hands raised up high.
Jay White lays there motionless. Unmoving, bloodied, and beaten. Not long after the bell sounded, EMTs had marched down to ringside to attend to the beaten Switchblade. With the match over, they take their due diligence to step through the ring ropes and aid him, with a stretcher and multiple personnel. An EMT hurries over to White’s side, putting a hand under the Switchblade’s pulse.
Tom Phillips: “And, now here comes the EMTs.”
Corey Graves: “Just a disappointing showing here from Switchblade. Just a complete beatdown.”
Tom Phillips: “You have to believe that’s the last time we’ll be seeing him.”
Corey Graves: “I want to apologize everyone watching this at home, that sometimes in this company, there are merciless beatdowns against those that just aren’t willing to put the time and effort to stay a cut above the rigorous expectations it takes to be a UWF Superstar.”
Tom Phillips: “And Jay White’s just another example of that, Corey.”
But, then suddenly.
As the Switchblade seemed to have finally folded with a merciless beating, a hand reaches up from the lifeless body of White to grab throat of the EMT to choke him with it! the EMT gasps and claws at the air for life as a death grip from White is held at his throat! The audience gasp loudly at the suddenness of it. Jay White, then, like the god damn Undertaker, just sits up and looks at the EMT in the eyes with a completely crazed look and a sadistic grin like that of a complete psychopath. If it weren’t for the waterfall of blood running down the forehead of Switchblade, it would seem as if Ciampa hadn’t done a thing at all to him, as White is a man possessed, and has finally succumbed to his worst impulses.
Tom Phillips: “What in God’s name! WH- HOW?! He was just beaten senseless, bloodied! How can he just— White has him by the throat!”
Corey Graves: “How did he just get up like that? What’s that look in his eye! Everyone needs to clear the ring! There’s a psychopath in the ring; just look at his eyes!”
White stands up with the EMT still in his death grip; The EMT’s skin is now turning purple, and is soon to be unconscious. The rest of the EMTs stand on in horror as their colleague is at the mercy of an unhinged psychopath, unable to help him for fear of angering Jay. White withdraws something from his tights with his other free hand, an unidentifiable black handheld object.
Tom Phillips: “Oh my god, where the hell is security?!”
Corey Graves: “What does he have in his hand?”
Corey’s question is answered immediately after, as White presses a button on the side of the object and a large knife appears at the end of the object. It’s a switchblade.
Tom Phillips: “He has a knife!”
Corey Graves: “Screw Security, Phillips – where’s the police?! Anyone?!”
White then, without any hesitation, then takes the knife and shanks the emergency medical technician right in the stomach! The audience gasp in horror and silence, as White stabs him and twists the knife in the man’s stomach before forcefully pulling it out which causes the man to fall face forward, lifeless.
Tom Phillips: “My god…”
The silence is deafening in the arena. There’s no cheers or boos. Everyone, the audience, the other EMTs, the commentators – they all simply stand there, and observe then, as White then takes the blood from the knife he stabbed the EMT with, and rubs it all over his forehead that mixes in with his own blood that’s already on there.
But, not all is silent, as a frantic Veda Scott rushes out from the back—
Corey Graves: "This sick freak!"
Tom Phillips: “No, Veda! Don’t go in there with him! That man abused you!”
Veda, against all caution, is in the same ring with a completely psychopathic Jay White. Veda inches closer to Jay, warmly, and Jay… seems to settle down? Veda inches closer until she’s in kissing distance of Jay, and it looks like she’s going to do it, until White takes the knife and shoves it through the abdomen of Veda Scott! White twists it around in her stomach for a moment, before forcefully pulling out, causing her to slump forward like the EMT.
Corey & Tom: “NO!”
The audience, now rid of their silence, proceed to pelt White with jeers and boos for the thing he just did Veda. There’s drinks and popcorn being thrown in the ring, and audience members are starting to jump the barricade to stop what’s happening! Just then, however, security finally emerge from the back, and all hell breaks loose at ringside with a brawl between the security trying to stop what’s happening in the ring as well as trying to stop the fans that’re trying to intervene.
Corey Graves: “It’s complete chaos!”
In the ensuing chaos, White splashes Veda Scott’s blood on top of the EMT’s blood and his own that’s on his forehead. Then, like an artist, painting a picture, Jay White takes a handful of the mixture of blood on his forehead, and proceeds to paint the words; “I’M GONE.” in big, bold letters across the canvas. White laughs to himself diabolically before slipping under the bottom rope, vanishing in the crowd of security and fans.
Tom Phillips: “Where did he go? I lost sight of him!”
Corey Graves: “Read the words on the canvas, Phillips. He’s gone.”
The crowd eventually dissipates, as the company of security guards manage to apprehend all of the intervening fans and carry them off all in cuffs. It takes a while, and many fans are carted off. The EMTs get their shit together and order out another stretcher for Veda and the EMT, who are hurriedly shuffled off on stretchers to the nearest medical facility. And while the fans, security, the unfortunate EMT, and Veda Scott have disappeared, the only thing that remains is the blood scripture on the canvas, that reads, “I’M GONE.”, as Revolution rolls on from the previous chaos.
The UWF titantron switches from it’s banner to video taken days prior to the show. Lights, glimmer, and everything else anyone can hope for, as a sparking pyro flames up a black screen, spelling out the initials “C.H.”, before blasting into a logo!
Sup, hosers, losers, and all other listeners out there! It’s that time of the week for the one and only “Instant Classic” in the UWF, that’s right! Revolution proudly presents to you “The Peeple’s Podcast” brought to you in party by Tostino's Pizza Rolls! They might be gushy and confusing to make, but they do the job for any quick meal. Here is your host, Christian! Otherwise known as, me!
The graphic fades into a “studio” of sorts, with Christian sitting at a desk. He’s got it all, a coffee mug with “No. 1 Wrestler Alive” printed on it, his own bobblehead, and a big grin. He takes a big swig of his coffee before clapping his hands and getting this thing underway.
Christian: We’re back! Peeps, I gotta tell ya, I’m pretty darn excited, as is my partner in crime, Edge!
The camera switches over to the Rated R Superstar himself, who’s not living up to Christian’s word. The only excitement in Edge is the throbbing headache, as a bandage is over his forehead, and a bag of ice on his head held by himself.
Edge: Thrilled.
Then, back to the host himself.
Christian: As I’m sure the Peeps out there are to hear our beautiful voices. For those that’ve been keeping up, Judgement Day has come and gone, and while we attempted to get one of these bad boys churned out last week, it turns out that our great “General Manager”, Stone Cold Steve Austin, invited us out too the ring to assault us! As loyal employees to the company, I gotta say, I’m just shocked. But fear not, as an insurance to make up for Austin’s actions, the UWF Board of Directors has made it clear that there will be no harm to this program!
Edge’s eyes stare daggers into Christian, the irony of “harm” being thrown around is so obtuse at this point, he doesn’t even need to say it.
Christian: But enough about how great the show is, we’re here with two very important guests with us. Trust me, guys, I’m absolutely proud to have you two on here. Joining us in studio today are two of the UWF’s biggest names. Sitting in one chair is the main man himself. The brains to the greatest stable since The Cartel. He’s Sweet, he’s Sour, and he’s the Undisputed UWF Champion, Technically Unified UWF Television Champion, AND UWF Transatlantic Champion, ladies and gentlemen, Larry Sweeney! Also, an upcoming Canuck and legitimate badass in the form of Kyle O’Reily! Fellas, how’re we doing tonight?
Sweeney: We’re doin’ just dandy, all things considered, fellas! Aahaha! Ain’t that right Kyle?
The camera cuts over to Kyle, who is sporting a shiner from the beatdown on Revolution, and a nasty scowl that hasn’t left his face since, either.
KO’R: I will literally murder Stone Cold Steve Austin next time I see him. I’m gonna choke him to death with his own -
Sweeney: Whoa! Easy partner! Ahaha… we talked about this, right? No death threats on the record. You’re still on parole in some counties..
KO’R: I hate those counties.
Sweeney: Me too pal, me too. But lighten up! We’re on the finest podcast in the game today! Hell, I’ll say it - of all time! Haha! Yeah, it’s our pleasure gentlemen, our pleasure. I gotta tell ya Edge, Christian, ever since you two have been around, things have been on the up and up around here. Austin, yeah, he’s a piece of work with no equal, it goes without saying. But for the longest time I really thought Kyle and I the only real talent in this lonely, lonely company. So just imagine my delight when the best tag team to ever walk the face of the earth shows up one day!
I knew right then, and I knew there that we could do business together. I didn’t become a world-renowned talent scout and manager by not knowing a good thing when I see it. I said to myself, I says “Larry, you gotta work with those charming Canadian fellas” and, well, now here we are. Me, the Triple Champ, and you two, the future UWF Tag Team Champions! It doesn’t hurt having Rude and his pals on our side, neither. Ha!
Now I know you two have a sizeable audience and that we’re broadcasting this on to UWF television, so I just want to say to the millions hearing us now, that we are going to put into effect the almighty, all terrifying power that is our combined effort, and we are going stamp a final period on the run-on sentence that is Stone Cold Steve Austin’s miserable career as a General Manager. We will be the finality. The punctuation. That tyrannical doofus is running roughshod trying to stymie the finest top-tier talent pool the UWF has ever seen, and we’re not about to let that happen. Ethan Carter knew what was what. I coulda worked alongside a reasonable man, but Austin? Huh… you all saw last week, didn’t ya? He’s got to go! Am I wrong? Tell me I’m not wrong?
Christian: Wrong you are not! After that tangy reply, how can someone dislike us? Trust us, after last week’s disgusting display by Austin, I can say that not only did we see it Larry Sweeney, but we felt it! Some more then others!
Christian shoots a quick glance at Edge, but it’s in good fun as he chuckles, clapping his hands at the words he’s hearing from his fellow Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. member. Just like O’Reily, Edge still looks worse for wears, but his mood’s been uplifted by Sweeney’s speech.
Christian: Ya know, ever since we came back, we knew we liked you two! You’re a couple of guys that knows what they want, and will do what it takes to get it. That’s contagious behavior. I’d say it was the smartest move of our life, I mean look at how people are reacting. Not only have we exposed Austin for the crook that he is, but loonies like Elix are finally being shown their true colors.
Edge: I don’t know what’s worse, the headache I get being reminded of him, or the chair shot via his temper tantrum. But I gotta admit, as soon as I speared Miz at Judgement Day, there was a shift felt in this company, and it just so happens that the Anti Austin Alliance was in the right place, at the right time. I saw joining Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. as the greatest opportunity, and trust me, I don’t just give myself these nicknames.
Christian: It’s clear, Austin’s gotta go, and we’ll do whatever it takes to make him keel over. We’ve already got his belts, which aren’t going anywhere away from your waist Larry, and like you said, next step for Edge and I are those tag belts. Maybe even Freebird those suckers with ol’ O’Reily here eh? Things are exciting for us, and we’re confident in our ability, but what we’re a bit more interested is your plans for the title. I mean you’ve beaten a who’s who in this company, and with the oh so sad news of Resistance shutting down, there’s an elephant in the room that we haven’t quite spoken about. He’s got curly hair, lookin’ pretty jacked, and to be honest, puts shame on the Canadian name. We’re talkin’ Kenny Omega.
Edge: Psh, he takes our blessing and honestly throws it out of the window if you ask me. A guy like O’Reily here puts him to shame with his wrestling. He’s got what, “pushing his limits” as an asset? Get real… anywho, we’re wondering, what’s your thoughts on him? It’s pretty well known that he was the original client of Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc.
Larry, grinning wide as ever, folds his hands out and cracks his knuckles like he’s bridging a shuffled deck. He leans back in his chair, and replies, cool as a cucumber.
Sweeney: Kenny Omega, huh? Well let me start at the start here. I hate to even utter the name again, but this all goes back to Stone Cold Steve Austin. When he came in, I offered up the idea of a “Sweet n’ Sour Invitational” - a tournament to crown the next contender for my belt. At first he was gonna play ball, but then he tossed my idea out the window and just handed Miz the shot. And we all saw what happened there, didn’t we?
Miz wasn’t ready for it. The poor kid got embarrassed. I think his performance on the biggest stage of his life is what kids these days are calling “cringe-worthy”. But do I blame him? No. I told Austin that there wasn’t a soul on this roster who could take the heat. I said give ‘em time, let ‘em prove they’ve earned it… but did he listen? Nope. Long story short, I look around the Revolution locker room and I still don’t see anyone who’s up to task. I’ll put the UWF Technically Unified Television Championship on the line against some of them, and maybe a few have even qualified themselves for a chance at the prestigious UWF Transatlantic Championship - but nobody has a claim at the Unified UWF Championship except yours truly.
Enter Kenny Omega. We’ve got ourselves a brand-merger coming in hot, folks. That means more titles for your boys here at Sweet n’ Sour Inc. to pick up. And unlike every good-for-nuthin’ scrub I gotta put up with every week here, Kenny Omega has something to offer. The UWF International Championship.
That title was made famous by a former Sweet n’ Sour member. Kenny Omega himself used to work under our banner. Hell, I was the one who gave him his first shot in the UWF! It was my management skills that won him gold, and took him to Wrestlemania after that! A more grateftul man might just concede their title to me, but let’s be realistic - Kenny’s not about to do that. And hey, that’s all well and good.
Sweeney shrugs. It ain’t no thang.
Sooner or later, he and I are gonna cross paths again. He’s a talented kid - I’da never signed him if he wasn’t. But there’s a reason I let him go. I’ve seen his limit. I know his cap. No amount of dojo training or career experience since then would be enough to bring him to my level. I take my hat off to the kid for beatin’ Samoa Joe, I really do. Fact of the matter is, though, that Resistance is - or should I say was - the B show, filled to the brim with washed up vets and never-will-be young boys. Kenny found himself a sweet spot somewhere in between, but he’s about to leave the kiddy pool behind to come swim with the sharks. I haven’t lost yet. He’s not the guy to chance that! Haha! Nope! Not a chance!
I’ll tell ya one thing - I’m lookin’ forward to becoming the Quadruple Champ. Doesn’t quite have the same poetic ring to it… a bit of a mouthful, actually… we’ll have to workshop it I guess. Whatever! I’m the baddest cat in the whole damn town! I’m the straw that stirs the drink! I’m the reason Waldo’s hiding! Ahahaha!
KO’R: Oh man… Where’s Waldo, yeah, haha. With his red and white shirt… and his dork glasses… and his little hat... and his girlfriend who wears the same clothes… and his pet dog who wears the same clothes too… and his crowded landmark hangouts… and his international hide-and-seek escapades… and his rival hide-and-seek guy who wears yellow and black… and…
Sweeney: Jesus Kyle, that’s enough. Aye carumba. Take your needle. Long story short, as far as “deserving” goes, it’s not a word I’m too keen to throw around the UWF when it comes to giving out title matches, but Omega’s the best Resistance has to offer, so I’ll take it. Ten more pounds of leather and gold ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at, frankly, and it’s not like we can have two guys calling themselves world champion. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us.
And unlike Kenny, I’ve got friends on my side. He’s a lone, stray bullet whistlin’ on by in the wind, but Sweet n’ Sour? Hell, look at us! We’re like whole freakin’ arsenal! Ain’t that right?
The camera zooms out too see the four members of Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. to really give the audience a glance at what they’re dealing with, and to back up Larry’s claim. Christian claps his hands and chuckles leaning into the mic.
Christian: As right as the Earth being round! Larry, consider all of us here inspired by a great champ such as yourself. I wouldn’t have bothered with asking about Kenny from South Park, but we know how are audience is. Always the curious bunch! Heck, I even think I’ll consider my eventual victory of Chris Jericho tonight as tribute to you Sweeney. He’s a chump you’ve beaten, and although a fellow Canadian, wasn’t even born in our great country. Fans out there, keep a close eye, because with numbers, comes results. THAT, is how Sweet ‘n’ Sour rolls!
With that, the quad-group’s scene fades out, and we continue with Revolution.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
Dr. Cube shows up on the screen behind a desk.
Dr. Cube: Good evening Boils and Gruels, supreme overlord cube interrupting this dreadful program to drag your mush filled minds from the gutters you call your skulls, and into the future in which we call science! It fills this cold blackened heart of mine with such joy knowing that the UWF roster has fear and paranoia stricken into their very essence. My army of minions are everywhere perfectly concocted with the most complex of algorithms to make the next opponent they face their worst nightmare! The best part? It could be anyone! Your parents, your best friends, your siblings even your very own grandmother will be under than hands of CUBE!
He laughs evilly before coughing a little and staring into the camera
Dr. Cube: Who is going to stop me? That Drunkard that is in charge? The Midget that is bossed around by meatheads night after night? NO! Because none of them can comprehend the inner machinations that comprise the perfect mind that is Cube. They will know not of the despair that will befall upon the UWF until it is far too late for them to act, and by that time I will only be laughing watching the company and the world beg for mercy before my very hands! THIS WEEK IS ONLY THE BEGINNING! The moment the brands reunite is the moment the invasion wins you have all sealed your DOOM!
He laughs as it fades out into static.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
HAIL! HAIL!
As the chant begins over the arena's sound system, 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.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent.. already in the ring and accompanied by Dr. Cube, Riddick Moss!
The first minion in the army of Dr. Cube poses and stands in the corner, waiting for the bell to ring
DING DING!
the bell rings and both walk into the center of the ring, immediately entering a collar and elbow tie up but no one seems to get the upper hand! both men try to get a more dominant position and finally Triple H is able to grab a wristlock by feinting a headlock, HHH wrenches the arm once and fakes another time before going around Moss and locking in a hammerlock! Moss is having none of tho as he just elbows King Nothing right in the nose! the hit causes Hunter to release the grip and lose his balance so Moss takes advantage of that and tries to shoulder tackle his foe but he only moves an inch! Moss is shocked and Hunter just adjusts his nose and chuckles, Moss doesn't waste time and this time charges the ropes before hitting another tackle, Triple H still barely moves!! he again chuckles and tells Moss to try it again, this time Moss charges the ropes, rebounds off the opposite ropes and again rebounds off the ropes before hitting HHH but that still doesn't move him!!
Tom Phillips: Oh my god Corey look at that toughness from Triple H, that's around 255 pounds who hit him with a lot of momentum and he barely moved!
Corey Graves: OK that's somewhat impressive.
Moss looks at Dr. Cube shocked and Cube returns the same look to Moss, Triple H just laughs and says it's now his turn, he charges the ropes and goes for a closeline but Moss ducks under, hooks the arm, then the other arm, lifts him and drops him face first with the Gory Bomb! he rushes into the pin, hooking one leg in the process
1....
tw...
NO!
Triple H kicks out! Riddy Mo ain't so surprised this time and just returns to work on HHH, he picks him up from the ground in the cradle position, yells something about world domination and throws Hunter with the Fallaway Slam! Hunter lands on the other side of the ring, clutching his back in pain while Moss just laughs at him, Moss then turns around to face Hunter and wait for him to get up, after a few moments he gets up using the ropes and when Moss charges him he drops down with the rope and sends him flying into ringside! Moss lands awkwardly on his back but doesn't stay down long and gets up almost immediately, clutching his back, he gets up on the apron trying to grab Trips but the latter grabs Moss' neck before he's able to do anything and drops him throat first into the top rope! Trips stumble into the corner where he wants to recover while Moss clutches his throat while coughing like an old man dying on cancer and the ref starts counting
1!
2!
Moss strugles to get up as he still has trouble breathing and now Triple H recovered fully and is waiting for Moss to enter
3!
4!
Moss now breathes normally and uses the apron to get and slide back into the ring and the moment he stands up Triple H starts barraging him with punches to the face! Moss stumbles back and with his back to the ropes Dr.cube shouts at him to shove Trips away and he does so, he pushes Trips to the middle of the ring and charges him looking for another shoulder tackle but this time Hunter squats down in time, grabs a hold of Moss' legs and lifts him up just to turn 180 degrees and drop him with the spinebuster!
Corey Graves: Here's that spinebuster we've been promised, Phillips!
Tom Phillips: And King Nothing looks k-okay!
Corey Graves: First of all never say that again and second of all, he's still a very old man, let's just keep the ambulance at bay for now.
Triple H starts aggressively doing the crotch chop taunt and yelling at the downed Moss but quickly gets back to his senses and goes to pin him, hooking both legs
1...
2...
NO!
Moss kicks out! the former owner of UWF sits on his knee and just shakes his head, smiling, he mounts Moss and begins to rain punches on him while the debuting superstar is doing everything he can to defend his face, Dr. Cube starts to panic so he pushes a big button on his controller and suddenly Moss just pushes Trips off of him and stands up! Triple H is caught off guard and isn't focused so Moss takes advantage of that and finally drops him with the shoulder tackle! he starts to pump his own chest and yell while the crowd just boo him, he finishes taunting quickly and he starts charging the downed Hunter, skipping over him and instead rebounding off the ropes just to return and drop a stiff elbow right onto Hunter's lungs! Moss doesn't stop and the second he gets up he drops yet another elbow! he does it one more time and then when he gets up, instead of dropping another elbow he spits right into Triple H's face!
Tom Phillips Oh come on, what's the point in that?
Corey Graves: What do you mean Cole? he's showing King Nothing that he truly does mean nothing to mean, that's the whole point of the match!
Riddick goes around the ring, holding his arm in the air and yelling that he's the new king now as Dr. Cube cheers on, he stops near Dr. Cube who tells gets up on the apron and whispers something into his ear, Moss just nods, he goes over to Triple H who is trying to get up using the ropes maybe to trick Moss again but Moss is smarter this time, he begins arrogantly kicking Trips in the face, not attempting to do much damage but instead just to insult him, Triple H gets angry and starts to stare down Moss, the death stare of the Cerebral Assassin probably erases the smile off of Moss' face and he panics, immediately picking up Trips onto his shoulders and attempting to drop him with a Powerslam but sees that coming and counter the move with an elbow right into Moss' jaw! Moss lets go of Trips and stumbles back just to get kicked in the gut which makes him fall down to one knee, Triple H sees the opportunity to end this as he turns his back to Moss, hooks both of his arms and lifts him up to then drop him onto his neck with the King's Justice! Dr. Cube plants his head in his hands, he knows his minion is done as Triple H goes for the cover
1...
2...
3!
DING DING!
The ref raises Triple H's hand as Riddick Moss lays motionless on the mat and the feed moves elsewhere.
The cameras head to the back where we see Tommaso Ciampa holding a folder of some kind. He is reading through and nodding along. He notices the cameramen and quickly hides the folder.
Tommaso Ciampa: “HEY! What the hell are you doing back here?! Do you know what this is?!”
Ciampa points the folder then picks it up. The cameramen shake their heads, they have no idea what they’ve got themselves in for.
Tommaso Ciampa: “This, my friends, is Project: Ciampa.”
Ciampa shows the front of the folder.
The cameramen begin to chuckle at the sight of the folder, especially the picture that Tommaso has paperclipped to it…
Tommaso Ciampa: “What? What’s so funny?”
Ciampa notices what they’re laughing at and quickly removes it.
Tommaso Ciampa: “Erm.. that’s just a picture that I found on the floor of the locker room.. These guys err.. really like Gargano I guess..”
The cameramen look at each other with grins on their faces. Ciampa quickly changes the topic.
Tommaso Ciampa: “ANYWAY, it’s none of your business to be back here, this folder holds the key to my success, my plans. You’ll all get to see it unfold before your very eyes so I’m keeping this thing under wraps and you daren’t stop me! No one will get their hands on Project: Ciampa. If anyone decides to try and read it, I will not be held responsible for what will happen to them.”
Ciampa begins to address his match later tonight.
“So Jay White, tonight, you will be the first to feel the wrath of the Blackheart. You will learn that Project: Ciampa is not to be taken as a joke. It’s written in the stars, kid and your horoscope says that tonight, you are getting to be beaten from pillar to post. Maybe you cameramen should try and find Switchblade instead. I’m sure he’s afraid because his worst nightmare is here.. no.. not a haircut.. ME! The Sicillian Psychopath, The Psycho Killer, Tommy Sports Entertainment; The Blackheart, Tommaso Ciampa. Let this be a warning not only to Jay but to everybody on the roster. Take care of yourselves tonight but watch your backs because you never know when Uncle Tommy might be lurking around. Now, get the hell out of my locker room!"
The cameramen quickly leave and the shot fades..
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...
With the familiar heartbeat echoing around the arena. There is no doubt as to who is about to make his entrance.
NO ONE WILL SURVIVE!
And here comes Ciampa! He steps out onto the stage and takes a rather disgruntled look into the crowd. He nods his head slowly to the beat of his theme song as the boos echo around the arena almost drowning the theme song out. He takes a look at the ring and begins to walk, as he fiercely paces down the ramp, you can tell he means business.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Weighing at 201 lbs; Tommaso Ciampa!
Ciampa enters the ring and raises his arm, he knows he's the best. As he bathes in the boos of the UWF fans, he quickly removes his jacket and backs into the turnbuckle - no nonsense. Ciampa is ready to go!
DING DING!
As soon as the bell rings Jay White steps forward and shouts straight over to Ciampa standing in the other corner, “You ain’t nothing mate!”. Ciampa then looks around as if he’s talking to someone else, but then shortly after signals if he’s talking to him. Before Jay can insult him any further Ciampa has already headed over to the corner and gets face to face with White.
Corey Graves: “Surely Ciampa isn’t the type of person who’d take insults from a guy like Jay White? I feel like this is going to get a little heated up in here.”
White pushes him back, making Ciampa fall backwards down. White then goes for a run up penalty kick on Ciampa, but Ciampa drop toe holds him down to his face. Ciampa then mounts on top of Jay White and begins to rally in the forearms to the back of his head, over and over and over.
Tom Phillips: “C’mon referee, they banned that in mixed martial arts for a reason! He’s going to leave some serious damage if he doesn’t step in.”
The referee then tries to pull Ciampa away slightly, as this could legitimately give him some brain damage. Ciampa then gets in the referee’s face questioning his authority. He then turns back to White and takes him to the outside.
1!
Ciampa then leads White by his head and slams it on the apron. He then starts to rub it down on the mat and drags him along to the post. Ciampa pulls White’s face off the apron and then holds him by the hair to control him.
2!
Ciampa then throws White directly into the ring post, with his hair swaying backwards off the amount of force he throws him at. Ciampa then grabs him back up almost instantly and rests White’s head against the ring post.
Tom Phillips: “Uh-oh.”
3!
Ciampa then steps backwards and then runs back at White and knees his back sending his head crashing into the ring post with a lot of impact. Ciampa then takes his foot and rests it against the back of White’s head.
4!
Ciampa then lures his foot off the back of his head and then smashes back down at it stomping directly on the top of his head. Ciampa then takes his foot and does it again… and again… and again.
5!
Ciampa then picks up the nearly unconscious Jay White off the post and he begins to run with his limp body. He then turns him inside out and throws him into the barricade. Ciampa relishes in the fan majority disapproval.
6!
Corey Graves: “Ciampa better move this in the ring, otherwise we’ll be looking at a double countout right here.”
Ciampa looks down at White laying there helpless on the ground and simply giggles at his dismay. He then walks away, and rolls straight back into the ring.
Tom Phillips: “C’mon Ciampa are you really going to take that cheap, pointless countout win on your return match.”
7!
White is seemingly not moving on the outside, and this far into the count is quite concerning to the audience, they want to see more. Ciampa peers over the top rope to stare at White.
8!
Ciampa spits out of the ring directly at the potentially unconscious White grounded. He then drops and slowly gets to the outside. The referee restarts the count.
1!
Ciampa picks up White and leans him against the barricade. He then swoops for a double leg and drapes him over the top section of the barricade. He then hooks the head of White and reels his body out of the crowd a little more.
2!
White is then dropped directly on the top of his head with the draped DDT. Ciampa then sits up from the bump he just took and then looks over at the crowd. He begins to clap for himself and pats himself on the back several times.
Corey Graves: “I’d usually vouch for guys like Ciampa… but this? It’s just sick. Someone- can someone stop him?”
3!
Ciampa then picks up White by his head, with the ragdoll body following him. Ciampa chucks him into the ring lacklusterly and looks around before following him into the ring. He then drags White up and whips him over to the corner.
Ciampa then runs over and knees White in the midsection, which he immediately falls down to a seated position. Ciampa then begins to lay in relentless boots into White and the referee begins to look extremely concerned.
Corey Graves: “For god’s sake please! Someone get down there, he’s going to kill him! He will! Hell, he could already be dead! What’s wrong with Ciampa!”
Tom Phillips: “I must add though Corey, White hasn’t fought back since the start of this match, which is quite strange. I think it’s a bit too late for him to come back from this scale of a beating however.”
White continues to receive the boots of Ciampa one after another. The referee starts to politely ask Ciampa to back away, but Ciampa simply ignores him. The referee then pulls Ciampa back by his arms and swoops into White to check up on him.
Out of nowhere Jay White starts to cough, quite rapidly, which then results in a big pool of blood squirting out of his mouth, which the referee sees a signal to end the match early. The referee goes to call for the bell, but Ciampa grabs his arm.
Corey Graves: “Ciampa! Let him end the match! The man needs to go to hospital as soon as possible, this could be extremely critical!”
Ciampa heads to the corner and then carries White out of the corner, drooling blood out of his mouth. He then throws him up in a Powerbomb position and then lands Project Ciampa on White! He then hooks both the legs on White as the referee counts.
One…
Two…
Three!
DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, “Blackheart” Tomasso Ciampa!”
Ciampa then stands with both his hands raised up high.
Jay White lays there motionless. Unmoving, bloodied, and beaten. Not long after the bell sounded, EMTs had marched down to ringside to attend to the beaten Switchblade. With the match over, they take their due diligence to step through the ring ropes and aid him, with a stretcher and multiple personnel. An EMT hurries over to White’s side, putting a hand under the Switchblade’s pulse.
Tom Phillips: “And, now here comes the EMTs.”
Corey Graves: “Just a disappointing showing here from Switchblade. Just a complete beatdown.”
Tom Phillips: “You have to believe that’s the last time we’ll be seeing him.”
Corey Graves: “I want to apologize everyone watching this at home, that sometimes in this company, there are merciless beatdowns against those that just aren’t willing to put the time and effort to stay a cut above the rigorous expectations it takes to be a UWF Superstar.”
Tom Phillips: “And Jay White’s just another example of that, Corey.”
But, then suddenly.
As the Switchblade seemed to have finally folded with a merciless beating, a hand reaches up from the lifeless body of White to grab throat of the EMT to choke him with it! the EMT gasps and claws at the air for life as a death grip from White is held at his throat! The audience gasp loudly at the suddenness of it. Jay White, then, like the god damn Undertaker, just sits up and looks at the EMT in the eyes with a completely crazed look and a sadistic grin like that of a complete psychopath. If it weren’t for the waterfall of blood running down the forehead of Switchblade, it would seem as if Ciampa hadn’t done a thing at all to him, as White is a man possessed, and has finally succumbed to his worst impulses.
Tom Phillips: “What in God’s name! WH- HOW?! He was just beaten senseless, bloodied! How can he just— White has him by the throat!”
Corey Graves: “How did he just get up like that? What’s that look in his eye! Everyone needs to clear the ring! There’s a psychopath in the ring; just look at his eyes!”
White stands up with the EMT still in his death grip; The EMT’s skin is now turning purple, and is soon to be unconscious. The rest of the EMTs stand on in horror as their colleague is at the mercy of an unhinged psychopath, unable to help him for fear of angering Jay. White withdraws something from his tights with his other free hand, an unidentifiable black handheld object.
Tom Phillips: “Oh my god, where the hell is security?!”
Corey Graves: “What does he have in his hand?”
Corey’s question is answered immediately after, as White presses a button on the side of the object and a large knife appears at the end of the object. It’s a switchblade.
Tom Phillips: “He has a knife!”
Corey Graves: “Screw Security, Phillips – where’s the police?! Anyone?!”
White then, without any hesitation, then takes the knife and shanks the emergency medical technician right in the stomach! The audience gasp in horror and silence, as White stabs him and twists the knife in the man’s stomach before forcefully pulling it out which causes the man to fall face forward, lifeless.
Tom Phillips: “My god…”
The silence is deafening in the arena. There’s no cheers or boos. Everyone, the audience, the other EMTs, the commentators – they all simply stand there, and observe then, as White then takes the blood from the knife he stabbed the EMT with, and rubs it all over his forehead that mixes in with his own blood that’s already on there.
But, not all is silent, as a frantic Veda Scott rushes out from the back—
Corey Graves: "This sick freak!"
Tom Phillips: “No, Veda! Don’t go in there with him! That man abused you!”
Veda, against all caution, is in the same ring with a completely psychopathic Jay White. Veda inches closer to Jay, warmly, and Jay… seems to settle down? Veda inches closer until she’s in kissing distance of Jay, and it looks like she’s going to do it, until White takes the knife and shoves it through the abdomen of Veda Scott! White twists it around in her stomach for a moment, before forcefully pulling out, causing her to slump forward like the EMT.
Corey & Tom: “NO!”
The audience, now rid of their silence, proceed to pelt White with jeers and boos for the thing he just did Veda. There’s drinks and popcorn being thrown in the ring, and audience members are starting to jump the barricade to stop what’s happening! Just then, however, security finally emerge from the back, and all hell breaks loose at ringside with a brawl between the security trying to stop what’s happening in the ring as well as trying to stop the fans that’re trying to intervene.
Corey Graves: “It’s complete chaos!”
In the ensuing chaos, White splashes Veda Scott’s blood on top of the EMT’s blood and his own that’s on his forehead. Then, like an artist, painting a picture, Jay White takes a handful of the mixture of blood on his forehead, and proceeds to paint the words; “I’M GONE.” in big, bold letters across the canvas. White laughs to himself diabolically before slipping under the bottom rope, vanishing in the crowd of security and fans.
Tom Phillips: “Where did he go? I lost sight of him!”
Corey Graves: “Read the words on the canvas, Phillips. He’s gone.”
The crowd eventually dissipates, as the company of security guards manage to apprehend all of the intervening fans and carry them off all in cuffs. It takes a while, and many fans are carted off. The EMTs get their shit together and order out another stretcher for Veda and the EMT, who are hurriedly shuffled off on stretchers to the nearest medical facility. And while the fans, security, the unfortunate EMT, and Veda Scott have disappeared, the only thing that remains is the blood scripture on the canvas, that reads, “I’M GONE.”, as Revolution rolls on from the previous chaos.
The UWF titantron switches from it’s banner to video taken days prior to the show. Lights, glimmer, and everything else anyone can hope for, as a sparking pyro flames up a black screen, spelling out the initials “C.H.”, before blasting into a logo!
Sup, hosers, losers, and all other listeners out there! It’s that time of the week for the one and only “Instant Classic” in the UWF, that’s right! Revolution proudly presents to you “The Peeple’s Podcast” brought to you in party by Tostino's Pizza Rolls! They might be gushy and confusing to make, but they do the job for any quick meal. Here is your host, Christian! Otherwise known as, me!
The graphic fades into a “studio” of sorts, with Christian sitting at a desk. He’s got it all, a coffee mug with “No. 1 Wrestler Alive” printed on it, his own bobblehead, and a big grin. He takes a big swig of his coffee before clapping his hands and getting this thing underway.
Christian: We’re back! Peeps, I gotta tell ya, I’m pretty darn excited, as is my partner in crime, Edge!
The camera switches over to the Rated R Superstar himself, who’s not living up to Christian’s word. The only excitement in Edge is the throbbing headache, as a bandage is over his forehead, and a bag of ice on his head held by himself.
Edge: Thrilled.
Then, back to the host himself.
Christian: As I’m sure the Peeps out there are to hear our beautiful voices. For those that’ve been keeping up, Judgement Day has come and gone, and while we attempted to get one of these bad boys churned out last week, it turns out that our great “General Manager”, Stone Cold Steve Austin, invited us out too the ring to assault us! As loyal employees to the company, I gotta say, I’m just shocked. But fear not, as an insurance to make up for Austin’s actions, the UWF Board of Directors has made it clear that there will be no harm to this program!
Edge’s eyes stare daggers into Christian, the irony of “harm” being thrown around is so obtuse at this point, he doesn’t even need to say it.
Christian: But enough about how great the show is, we’re here with two very important guests with us. Trust me, guys, I’m absolutely proud to have you two on here. Joining us in studio today are two of the UWF’s biggest names. Sitting in one chair is the main man himself. The brains to the greatest stable since The Cartel. He’s Sweet, he’s Sour, and he’s the Undisputed UWF Champion, Technically Unified UWF Television Champion, AND UWF Transatlantic Champion, ladies and gentlemen, Larry Sweeney! Also, an upcoming Canuck and legitimate badass in the form of Kyle O’Reily! Fellas, how’re we doing tonight?
Sweeney: We’re doin’ just dandy, all things considered, fellas! Aahaha! Ain’t that right Kyle?
The camera cuts over to Kyle, who is sporting a shiner from the beatdown on Revolution, and a nasty scowl that hasn’t left his face since, either.
KO’R: I will literally murder Stone Cold Steve Austin next time I see him. I’m gonna choke him to death with his own -
Sweeney: Whoa! Easy partner! Ahaha… we talked about this, right? No death threats on the record. You’re still on parole in some counties..
KO’R: I hate those counties.
Sweeney: Me too pal, me too. But lighten up! We’re on the finest podcast in the game today! Hell, I’ll say it - of all time! Haha! Yeah, it’s our pleasure gentlemen, our pleasure. I gotta tell ya Edge, Christian, ever since you two have been around, things have been on the up and up around here. Austin, yeah, he’s a piece of work with no equal, it goes without saying. But for the longest time I really thought Kyle and I the only real talent in this lonely, lonely company. So just imagine my delight when the best tag team to ever walk the face of the earth shows up one day!
I knew right then, and I knew there that we could do business together. I didn’t become a world-renowned talent scout and manager by not knowing a good thing when I see it. I said to myself, I says “Larry, you gotta work with those charming Canadian fellas” and, well, now here we are. Me, the Triple Champ, and you two, the future UWF Tag Team Champions! It doesn’t hurt having Rude and his pals on our side, neither. Ha!
Now I know you two have a sizeable audience and that we’re broadcasting this on to UWF television, so I just want to say to the millions hearing us now, that we are going to put into effect the almighty, all terrifying power that is our combined effort, and we are going stamp a final period on the run-on sentence that is Stone Cold Steve Austin’s miserable career as a General Manager. We will be the finality. The punctuation. That tyrannical doofus is running roughshod trying to stymie the finest top-tier talent pool the UWF has ever seen, and we’re not about to let that happen. Ethan Carter knew what was what. I coulda worked alongside a reasonable man, but Austin? Huh… you all saw last week, didn’t ya? He’s got to go! Am I wrong? Tell me I’m not wrong?
Christian: Wrong you are not! After that tangy reply, how can someone dislike us? Trust us, after last week’s disgusting display by Austin, I can say that not only did we see it Larry Sweeney, but we felt it! Some more then others!
Christian shoots a quick glance at Edge, but it’s in good fun as he chuckles, clapping his hands at the words he’s hearing from his fellow Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. member. Just like O’Reily, Edge still looks worse for wears, but his mood’s been uplifted by Sweeney’s speech.
Christian: Ya know, ever since we came back, we knew we liked you two! You’re a couple of guys that knows what they want, and will do what it takes to get it. That’s contagious behavior. I’d say it was the smartest move of our life, I mean look at how people are reacting. Not only have we exposed Austin for the crook that he is, but loonies like Elix are finally being shown their true colors.
Edge: I don’t know what’s worse, the headache I get being reminded of him, or the chair shot via his temper tantrum. But I gotta admit, as soon as I speared Miz at Judgement Day, there was a shift felt in this company, and it just so happens that the Anti Austin Alliance was in the right place, at the right time. I saw joining Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. as the greatest opportunity, and trust me, I don’t just give myself these nicknames.
Christian: It’s clear, Austin’s gotta go, and we’ll do whatever it takes to make him keel over. We’ve already got his belts, which aren’t going anywhere away from your waist Larry, and like you said, next step for Edge and I are those tag belts. Maybe even Freebird those suckers with ol’ O’Reily here eh? Things are exciting for us, and we’re confident in our ability, but what we’re a bit more interested is your plans for the title. I mean you’ve beaten a who’s who in this company, and with the oh so sad news of Resistance shutting down, there’s an elephant in the room that we haven’t quite spoken about. He’s got curly hair, lookin’ pretty jacked, and to be honest, puts shame on the Canadian name. We’re talkin’ Kenny Omega.
Edge: Psh, he takes our blessing and honestly throws it out of the window if you ask me. A guy like O’Reily here puts him to shame with his wrestling. He’s got what, “pushing his limits” as an asset? Get real… anywho, we’re wondering, what’s your thoughts on him? It’s pretty well known that he was the original client of Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc.
Larry, grinning wide as ever, folds his hands out and cracks his knuckles like he’s bridging a shuffled deck. He leans back in his chair, and replies, cool as a cucumber.
Sweeney: Kenny Omega, huh? Well let me start at the start here. I hate to even utter the name again, but this all goes back to Stone Cold Steve Austin. When he came in, I offered up the idea of a “Sweet n’ Sour Invitational” - a tournament to crown the next contender for my belt. At first he was gonna play ball, but then he tossed my idea out the window and just handed Miz the shot. And we all saw what happened there, didn’t we?
Miz wasn’t ready for it. The poor kid got embarrassed. I think his performance on the biggest stage of his life is what kids these days are calling “cringe-worthy”. But do I blame him? No. I told Austin that there wasn’t a soul on this roster who could take the heat. I said give ‘em time, let ‘em prove they’ve earned it… but did he listen? Nope. Long story short, I look around the Revolution locker room and I still don’t see anyone who’s up to task. I’ll put the UWF Technically Unified Television Championship on the line against some of them, and maybe a few have even qualified themselves for a chance at the prestigious UWF Transatlantic Championship - but nobody has a claim at the Unified UWF Championship except yours truly.
Enter Kenny Omega. We’ve got ourselves a brand-merger coming in hot, folks. That means more titles for your boys here at Sweet n’ Sour Inc. to pick up. And unlike every good-for-nuthin’ scrub I gotta put up with every week here, Kenny Omega has something to offer. The UWF International Championship.
That title was made famous by a former Sweet n’ Sour member. Kenny Omega himself used to work under our banner. Hell, I was the one who gave him his first shot in the UWF! It was my management skills that won him gold, and took him to Wrestlemania after that! A more grateftul man might just concede their title to me, but let’s be realistic - Kenny’s not about to do that. And hey, that’s all well and good.
Sweeney shrugs. It ain’t no thang.
Sooner or later, he and I are gonna cross paths again. He’s a talented kid - I’da never signed him if he wasn’t. But there’s a reason I let him go. I’ve seen his limit. I know his cap. No amount of dojo training or career experience since then would be enough to bring him to my level. I take my hat off to the kid for beatin’ Samoa Joe, I really do. Fact of the matter is, though, that Resistance is - or should I say was - the B show, filled to the brim with washed up vets and never-will-be young boys. Kenny found himself a sweet spot somewhere in between, but he’s about to leave the kiddy pool behind to come swim with the sharks. I haven’t lost yet. He’s not the guy to chance that! Haha! Nope! Not a chance!
I’ll tell ya one thing - I’m lookin’ forward to becoming the Quadruple Champ. Doesn’t quite have the same poetic ring to it… a bit of a mouthful, actually… we’ll have to workshop it I guess. Whatever! I’m the baddest cat in the whole damn town! I’m the straw that stirs the drink! I’m the reason Waldo’s hiding! Ahahaha!
KO’R: Oh man… Where’s Waldo, yeah, haha. With his red and white shirt… and his dork glasses… and his little hat... and his girlfriend who wears the same clothes… and his pet dog who wears the same clothes too… and his crowded landmark hangouts… and his international hide-and-seek escapades… and his rival hide-and-seek guy who wears yellow and black… and…
Sweeney: Jesus Kyle, that’s enough. Aye carumba. Take your needle. Long story short, as far as “deserving” goes, it’s not a word I’m too keen to throw around the UWF when it comes to giving out title matches, but Omega’s the best Resistance has to offer, so I’ll take it. Ten more pounds of leather and gold ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at, frankly, and it’s not like we can have two guys calling themselves world champion. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us.
And unlike Kenny, I’ve got friends on my side. He’s a lone, stray bullet whistlin’ on by in the wind, but Sweet n’ Sour? Hell, look at us! We’re like whole freakin’ arsenal! Ain’t that right?
The camera zooms out too see the four members of Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc. to really give the audience a glance at what they’re dealing with, and to back up Larry’s claim. Christian claps his hands and chuckles leaning into the mic.
Christian: As right as the Earth being round! Larry, consider all of us here inspired by a great champ such as yourself. I wouldn’t have bothered with asking about Kenny from South Park, but we know how are audience is. Always the curious bunch! Heck, I even think I’ll consider my eventual victory of Chris Jericho tonight as tribute to you Sweeney. He’s a chump you’ve beaten, and although a fellow Canadian, wasn’t even born in our great country. Fans out there, keep a close eye, because with numbers, comes results. THAT, is how Sweet ‘n’ Sour rolls!
With that, the quad-group’s scene fades out, and we continue with Revolution.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
The White Stripes’s “Icky Thump" hits the PA System, and after a few moments of the song kicking in, outcomes "Captain Charisma" Christian! He comes out with a steady pace, checking his wrists and shrugging his shoulders to get the feeling in his body, with a smirk that oozes, you guessed it, Charisma. He walks down the entrance ramp and blows a kiss on his index and middle fingers, shooting it off to the crowd on on his left, than to his right. They hate him, but it's all for the few "Peeps" out there.
Tony Chimel: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, representing Sweet ‘n Sour Inc., he is "Captain Charisma", Christian!
Christian takes his sweet time stepping up the steel steps and into the ring, leaping onto the middle turnbuckles and pointing at his eyes, only to point back to the fans, slapping his chest, and putting a hand over his forehead to scout out his Peeps. He goes over to the opposite turnbuckle and does the very same, smiling a confident smile before leaping down and getting ready.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
Out comes the former UWF Champion and newly rediscovered gem in the man they call Chris Jericho. However, atypical to his typical mannerisms, Jericho comes out to the ring with a t-shirt and jeans, and no light show. No jacket, no List, no scarves, no nothing. Just a man and his pants, and a shirt.
Tony Chimel: From Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-seven pounds. Chris...Jericho!
Jericho makes his way down the ramp with the same lack of fanfare and enters the ring and gets ready for the match ahead.
DING DING!
The two get together in the middle of the ring and lock up. Christian transitions over to a headlock and tightens a few times down on it. He then flips him over his side and gets the headlock grounded. Christian tightens in a few more times on the ground and looks around the ring for possible ways to tighten it in.
Christian leans back into Jericho and tightens it even further. Suddenly Jericho gets a headscissors on Christian and releases the pressure off his neck, and adding some more to his opponent. Jericho then grabs a hold of his foot and holds it quite firmly to make sure that Christian isn’t going anywhere.
Corey Graves: “The headscissors! The most effective move in the game!”
Christian then slides his arm under the legs of Jericho and releases his grip on it. Christian then pivots round and then gets out of the rest hold. He then drops down Jericho before he can get up with a boot and then runs for the ropes.
Christian returns with a jumping elbow drop connecting onto the side of Jericho. He leads Jericho up and then releases him. He steps back slightly and lays in a forearm to the chest of Jericho and then another one. He then runs past Jericho and jumps up to the second rope.
Tom Phillips: “Really impressive stuff as we start up this match from Christian.”
Christian dives back over the top of Jericho’s head with a springboard sunset flip connecting on him. The referee counts the fall as he hits down on the mat.
One…
Jericho kicks out quickly and the two of them roll backwards up to their feet. Jericho then whips Christian over to the ropes, in which he returns with a leapfrog. Christian changes the direction with hitting an opposite side of the ring’s ropes.
Corey Graves: “Around they go!”
Jericho meets in the middle of the ring with the two of them and hits a bulldog connecting on the back of Christian’s head. Jericho then puts his foot on Christian for a pinfall attempt on him.
On-
Christian kicks out before one and quickly rolls underneath the bottom rope. Jericho then stomps over to where Christian is cradled up and goes to boot at Christian, but he grabs his foot and slides to the outside, making a cruel looking twist on his leg.
Tom Phillips: “Dang, that wasn’t sweet or sour that. Just pure meanness.”
Christian then takes a half lap around the ring and rolls back in, he then whips the stunned Jericho to the other side of the ring and on return levels him out with a clothesline. Christian taunts him to get up, and then Chris gets laid out with another clothesline.
Corey Graves: “He’s really feeling it here Tom! I feel like he’s got a firm hold on Jericho right here.”
Christian then hits the ropes and upon returnal he levels out Jericho with a dropkick. Christian then heads up top for potentially something big. Jericho gets up just to be met with a crossbody off the top rope. The referee counts the fall from this.
One…
Tw-
Suddenly Jericho begins to get up, with a hold on Christian still. He then throws Christian up to his shoulders and then he throws him up once more into the powerbomb position where he almost instantly throws down Christian to the mat. The referee goes to count.
On-
Jericho interrupts the fall by picking up Christian off the mat and powerbombing again but this time around releasing. Jericho then runs over to the ropes and jumps on the second rope to go and deliver the Lionsault but it gets interrupted by Christian’s knees echoing into the chest of Jericho. Christian then small packages Jericho for the fall.
Corey Graves: “Ouch.”
One…
Two…
Jericho kicks out at two from the reversal. As they both roll out Jericho clutches onto his ribs, and almost instantly Christian fires many blows towards him, hitting him towards the ropes. Christian then boots Jericho in the midsection.
Christian snapmares down Jericho into the middle of the ring and then hits the ropes and returns with a dropkick connecting with the side of Jericho’s face. Christian then grabs him up and boots him in the midsection, and lifts him up and plants him with a lifting DDT.
Corey Graves: “Almost reminiscent to his partner Edge right there, maintaining his control over Jericho right here.”
Christian then goes down and lifts him up to whip towards the ropes but Chris refuses to go once Christian goes to throw him. Jericho then whips Christian into the corner. Jericho goes to run for a cornered clothesline on Christian but he slides through the ropes and hits a pendulum kick on Jericho.
Christian then slides through the ropes and goes up to the second rope and hits a diving elbow up on Jericho. The two stay down for a second, and then Christian gets up by using the ropes.
Tom Phillips: “As we head into the later stages of this match the question still poses, what will each of these men do to pick up the win tonight?”
Christian then drags up Jericho up to a stable base and whips him into the corner. He then lifts up Jericho to the top rope and meets him up on the ropes. He then throws Jericho’s arm over his head and then tries to lift him up for a suplex from the top.
Jericho then clubs at the back of Christian and then throws him down to the mat face first. Jericho rests back on the top rope and then gets his feet up there. Jericho waves his hands up and Christian gets up to his feet.
Jericho crashes down to the ground with a double axe handle and walks straight through. Jericho then waves up for him once more and runs up for him looking for the Codebreaker. Christian dodges the move and then forearms him stunning him.
Christian then yells “Come on!” and the crowd get more rowdy and ready. He grabs the arms of Jericho and runs him around finally nailing him with the Killswitch! Christian hooks both legs and the referee counts.
One…
Two…
Three…
DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, “Captain Charisma” Christian!”
Christian gets his hand raised by the referee and heads up to the top rope and poses, he then takes a good look around the arena as UWF heads elsewhere.
The action in Revolution so far has been amazing but we take a break from that as Dana White, back to his usual T-shirt wearing days, standing in his office, long gone from the hospital bed
How you doing UWF fans?? it's me Dana White your favorite promoter!
The crowd boos, they don't like Dana
I took last week to fully heal from the stroke but now I'm back and better than ever because I have a new opponent for your very own Minoru Suzuki! that's right after Ken Shamrock bailed out of the deal I thought I was over, I didn't know what Suzuki would do to me with no opponent for him to face, but then, while lying on what I thought is going to be my death bed, I received a phone call with an offer I couldn't refuse, and although I had problems with the man in the past we all got over it like grown-ups and so to introduce his client and the next challenger to Minoru Suzuki's UFC belt I give you, the undefeated UWF world heavyweight champion, Larry Sweeney!!
Sweeney: Hahaha! Oh yeah! Issues with Stone Cold Steve Scumbag notwithstanding, business at Sweet n' Sour Inc. has been a' boomin' lately! Haha! I thought being a Triple Champ would keep me too busy to do anything else, but I actually make it all look pretty easy, don't I? So I figured, hey, what the hell, why not dabble a bit in talent management again, especially since I've some brand new friends to help me run the show.
He's talking more to the camera than Dana White, and he smiles his car salesman smile for the fans watching in the arena and around the world as he continues.
Sweeney: So, without further adieu, allow me to introduce to my latest client. This young man defeated a Gold Medalist in his first night as a professional wrestler. He's undefeated in all of the Mixed Martial Arts. He was trained by the legendary Frank Shamrock - ya know, the Shamrock brother that isn't just a miserable, pathetic, washed-up, never-was-ever-going-to-be hack bum. That's right! This is... Daniel Puder!
Puder, dressed up in a nice suit, walks into the shot. He's got strong meathead, jock, chongo vibes, but he seems happy enough to be there. He goes to shake Dana's hand but Larry stops him.
Sweeney: Whoa... easy there, sport. As your representative it's my responsibility to make sure you always get the best treatment, the best match-ups, and the best deals.
Larry turns and looks Dana White dead in the eyes.
Sweeney: What I'm tryin' to say is that there is no way in hell Daniel Puder is evvvvvvvvvvvvver going to fight in the UFC! Hahahaha!
Dana's face suddenly turn very pink as he coughs and starts talking
Wha.. what do you mean he isn't going to fight in the UFC? WE HAD A DEAL, YOU FUCKHEAD! ALREADY INVITED SUZUKI HERE FOR A FACEOFF
Larry cackles a devilish cackle.
Sweeney: Haha! A deal? A deal, huh? Just like we had with Kyle? Spare me, ya bloated schmuck! I swore you'd rue the day you crossed Larry Sweeney and I am a man of my word! Tonight, you'll lie in bed knowing that I got the better of you, and that I always will, because I'm the better man! You can to your grave countin' on it, Dana! Ha! Hahaha! Boy, I sure fooled you! As if I'd ever let a client in my care get their hands dirty with a scummy slumlord like Dana White! Never!
Now if you'll excuse us, we've got some real work to deal with. There's a GM to get fired, tag team titles to be one, and Daniel here is going to get started his training with the Canadian Dragon a-s-a-p! Just you wait and see! Sweet n' Sour is gonna dwarf your cute little UFC, and you'll know that should've done better business with us when you had the chance!
Sweeney turns and storms out. Puder shrugs and follows him. Dana falls down on his chair and puts his head in his hands when suddenly a knock on the door can be heard, the knocker doesn't wait for an answer and it's revealed to be Minoru Suzuki, he opens the door and takes a look around the room and when he sees that it's only Dana in there he chuckles to himself
I was promised a fight, Dana, where's my fight, Uncle Dana?
Suzuki starts a menacing walk towards Dana's desk as the UFC president gets up from and starts to back off into the wall
I.. someone called me with a fight but he backed out just now, I.. I'll get you a fight... I promise.. just give me a few more days, please
At this point, Dana is trapped between the wall and Suzuki grabs his throat, gets right into his face and starts talking
I gave you more than a month, it should be more than enough time to find a fight for your heavyweight champion, you're holding me, your main title belt and the whole combat sports world down by your mere presence, it's time I'll do these things a favor.
Suzuki chuckles and opens up his free hand in an attempt to slap Dana but Dana isn't going down without a fight, he quickly throws a surprise hook at Suzuki that stuns him for a second!
Come on motherfucker, I was once threatened by the mob, I'm a former boxer, you don't scare me anymore, come get a piece of this shit.
trash talking wasn't the best idea, Suzuki just laughs then immediately comes back at Dana with a hard slap, knocking him out
You wouldn't be my first choice for a fight, but you'll do.
Suzuki picks up Dana and grabs him by the back of the head, with his free hand he starts dishing slaps and forearms to the already unconscious Dana and when he decides he's done playing with him he spins him around and locks in the sleeper! Dana's body moves a little bit as he tries to fight out of it but very quickly his face turns bright red which quickly turns into white and then blue and after a few seconds his body stops moving, Suzuki laughs and releases the hold making Dana fall like a sack of potatoes.
Tom Phillips: Oh my god, did he.. did he just kill him?!
Corey Graves: Shut up Phillips, we're not supposed to talk here!
He picks up Dana's phone and sees that the last phone call was from Larry Sweeney, Suzuki's face suddenly turn from amusement to anger as he crushes the phone and the titantron fades to black with the image of him leaving the office, kicking the door in the process
The shot opens up in a dark white padded room. In one corner is a plain white chair illuminated by a small light. On another side is a metal door, which opens as a man is thrown into the darkness of the cell only to promptly be shut. The man immediately begins screaming and yelling, tearing at the walls and floors and banging into the sides of the room. Eventually, he crawls into the chair, defeated and exhausted. The shot then flickers, before it returns to a different shot of the same room, now decrepit, molded, and broken down. The chair remains in the same area, only occupied by the man's decomposing skeleton.
Aleister Black and WALTER walk out through the same door the man was thrown through. They approach the camera, as Aleister Black rolls up one of his sleeves. He begins talking.
Aleister: The lips of fools bring them strife, and their mouths invite a beating.
The definition of insanity is to try the same thing over and over in expectation of a different result. And Rude, right now, you should be in this very room. I see the claw hold of insanity digging its way deep into your drug-rattled mind. You say the same things, you do the same things, over and over and over and over and it leaves me wondering how you're going to cope with the fact that it won't work tonight. You love to try to "understand me", to ask "how are you going to feel when I beat you fair and square," but the fact of the matter is, Rude, that won't happen. I know that won't happen because I can see that your psyche is fractured and that you are insane. You keep saying "3rd longest reigning Intercontinental Champion," and, "co-captain of Team Revolution," and you act like you don't care what I think, but you do. You know damn well that those accolades are the only thing you have over me. Had I returned sooner, well, let's just say you'd be kissing those little "achievements," though I use the word very loosely, goodbye.
But no, I don't need any "achievements" or "records" to validate who I know I am. Because unlike you, I'm not a joke. I'm not a one-trick-pony strip tease who walks out each week, hits a neckbreaker on some low-level troglodyte, and says that THAT makes them the "measuring stick of the company" or the "big man on campus." Do you think that someone like me who has beaten everyone under the sun, who has put messages in their skin through ink and needle, who has racked up title after title is just "smoke and mirrors?" Maybe, just maybe when you're saying "smoke and mirrors," those mirrors might just be pointed at you, Rude, because you're the joke. You hide in little groups of yes men and you try to "rebel" against the authority to draw any last attention to your dying career, while I've been doing what you wish you could be doing. Proving that I am the best in the business. And again unlike you, I don't even need to try because I am eternal.
Aleister smirks a bit at the reusage of Rude's "best in the business" line. He puts his finger to his temple before speaking again.
Aleister: You want to know why I use biblical quotes and stories? Do you really want to know why I use those? You see, what I like about stories and quotes is that they have a moral. They have a clear-cut message to them that anyone to see. We tell stories to children who lack the intellectual capability to make their own decisions. Whether it be those idiotic drones out there or the man himself, you, Rick Rude, they are easy to tell to idiots. Idiots like you who just... can't... listen. Who can't respect their superiors. Who can't respect God. I. Am. God.
He points to himself and smirks yet again, as WALTER moves forward to speak.
WALTER: And since you decided to ignore his quotes, there's only one alternative now. He will beat the education into your broken, old, withering body one kick at a time. And when he's done you will no longer be the 3rd longest reigning Intercontinental Champion, you will only be known as the 7 in 7-0. People like you are a cancer... a disease in this business. A disease that needs to be removed. And we are the antibiotics. We will leave you dead where you stand.
Aleister: So don't be surprised when the rookie you keep describing does the "unthinkable" and kicks the head off of the reigning, "defending" Intercontinental Champion. It's nothing personal, ending your little... dog and pony show with your shiny little title and your two friends by your side. It's just for the greater good.
Aleister motions to both himself and WALTER.
Aleister: We... are eternal. And in the dying days of Resistance, we have our eyes set on the tag titles that will rise from its ashes. We'd love to give a... warm welcome to anybody who tries to prevent us from taking them. With kicks and chops and the fury of hell raining down upon you. We can take any titles we damn well please, at any time, at any place. And that's exactly what we're going to do. In our wake will be broken bodies and broken souls. So, Rick Rude and any other pitiful members of the UWF, heed this warning, heed this card, and heed it well, because this card is what decides your future. This is what holds your fate, and I hold it in the palm of my hand.
Death.
He holds up said tarot card for the world to see, before taking a lighter to it and setting it on fire. He drops it and the camera moves down to show it laying on the ground. Scrawled on the back side of the card is the same 8-pointed star.
The titantron goes back to the regular Revolution graphic in preparation for what happens next.
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...
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: It’s like this, Aleister. “Ravishing” Rick Rude isn’t a man that scares easily so you wanting me to be intimidated by you is the same thing as asking me to be afraid of my own shadow, it’s ridiculous. But since shadows and hocus pocus is what interests you, why don’t you pop a squat in mine. Because as long as you and I share space on this Earth, that’s the closest you’re going to get to greatness. Now what I would like to have right now is for all these bloated, grotesque, out of shape, abuses of government handouts to keep the noise down while I take off my robe and show all these women in attendance and watching at home what it looks like when you treat your body like a temple instead of a dumpster. Hit my music!
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, the young Television Champion immediately goes on the offensive as he throws a right punch. Rude puts his own right hand up and catches it to block as he also raises his left hand and wags his pointer finger back and forth, almost scolding his opponent for getting too anxious. Black pulls his hand away and throws a left but Rude manages to grab around the wrist with both hands to stop the punch as he then turns so that he’s facing away and falls, wrenching that area of Aleister’s arm over his shoulder.
As the impact sends him backward slightly, Black regains his footing as he holds his wrist in pain, rubbing up and down his arm for a moment before shaking it to get the blood flowing. Meanwhile Rude is up to his feet as he shoots the youngster a cocky smirk. Black doesn’t appreciate the disrespect as the two lunge at each other, seemingly going for a collar-elbow tie-up but Rick feigns to the side and connects with a thumb to Aleister’s eye.
While Black is holding his eye in pain, the palm of his hand rested over it, Rude delivers a kick to the solar plexus as the TV Champ hunches over as a result. As Rude hooks his arm around Black’s head to follow up, when he goes to get hold of Aleister’s arm to put it into position, Black manages to avoid Rude’s grasp by slipping his arm downward, connecting with a punch to the lower body.
As Rude lets out a cry of pain, Black soon reverses the situation and positions his arm where Rude previously had his arm on him and then puts Rude’s arm in place as he hoists him straight up off the mat and in the air, holding him upside down and at a vertical angle.
Corey Graves: What strength we’re seeing on display here!
Tom Phillips: That’s hard to do to a regular superstar, it’s even more impressive that he can do that to Rick Rude.
Corey Graves: Well that’s because Rick Rude is no ordinary superstar, Phillips. I knew you wouldn’t be able to deny his greatness forever.
Tom Phillips: I actually meant all that self-inflatedness likely makes him heavier but what would an athlete like him be without cheerleaders like you?
Black falls to complete the suplex but they’re positioned near the ropes so as Rude is brought down, he manages to slip free and land outside on the apron. The crowd actually gasps at the athleticism as Rude gets cocky as he turns around, back to the ropes, and puts his hands on his head, gyrating his hips as he’s known to do. While this is going on, Black charges him and delivers a big boot between the shoulder blades as Rude is knocked off of the apron through the air and lands nastily on the ringside barricade.
As Rude slinks to his knees, Aleister quickly exits the ring and pulls him to his feet, grabbing the back of his head and driving him face first into the top of the barricade. He repeats this a few times before grabbing Rude’s wrist with his free hand and pins Rude’s face to the barricade with the one already holding his head as he takes off running, dragging the face of the Intercontinental Champion along the top of the barricade until they arrive at the end of it.
Aleister releases Rude’s wrist and head as he gets up groggily and shoves him in the chest violently with both hands. Black is sent a few steps back as he looks down at where he was touched to be shoved and then looks back up at Rude as he turns quickly and knocks down the, “Ravishing One” with a spinning back kick.
Tom Phillips: Uh oh. The last thing Rude wants is for Black to get going with those fatal feet.
Corey Graves: He can connect with every variation of kick he knows and it still isn’t going to win this one for him! Sounds like you’ve got a fetish with Aleister Black’s feet!
Tom Phillips: Even if I did, it would still pall in comparison to how badly you want a mustache ride from Rick Rude.
As Rude is lying on the ground, suddenly Bischoff comes running over to check on him. Black tells him to move as Bischoff gets up and takes a martial arts stance. As Black starts walking towards him, Bischoff immediately puts his hands up and starts backing away. As they round the corner, suddenly Bischoff stops as it’s clear he’s bumped in to someone. As he turns around, he’s now looking at Black’s partner WALTER!
Bischoff turns and slides into the ring to try and escape as Black and WALTER each grab an ankle and pull him out of the ring. Black stands him up and throws him back first into the barricade as WALTER hits him in the chest with one of his devastating chops!
Corey Graves: Oh my God! Bischoff’s insides may have been jellified by that chop! Somebody eject this freak from ringside!
Tom Phillips: You’re more than welcome to try, Corey.
As Bischoff is practically convulsing on the floor, Rude comes running around the corner as he blasts Black in the back of the head with a double axe handle. He begins putting the boots to Black furiously but soon stops his assault when he senses something’s amiss. As he slowly looks up, there stands WALTER. Rude puts his hands up, wanting none of him, as he slides into the ring to get away with Black soon getting up and following after.
When Black stands up, Rude rakes the eyes and brings him over with an arm drag as he puts his hands down forcibly one Black lands in a seated position, pressing his fingers into the area of the collarbone nearest the neck. While he does this, he begins delivering knees to the middle of the back, connecting flush with the spine with each strike.
With a number of knee strikes he deems satisfactory landed and a duration of time digging his fingers into the collarbone he deems enough having passed, Rude turns his hands like he’s working both handles of a sink faucet and actually grips Black’s collarbone with both of them as he pulls the dark dweller to his feet before immediately planting him into the mat with a reverse Russian Leg Sweep.
As Rude outstretches his arms to pose, Bischoff approaches an area of the ringside with a steel chair as he slides it into the ring. Soon after this dastardly trick, he gets steamrolled by WALTER as WALTER climbs up on the apron.
Corey Graves: What’s this neanderthal doing?
Tom Phillips: My guess would be looking to stop Rude from using that chair.
WALTER is stopped by the ref as the two of them argue. As they do, Rude picks up the chair and waits as Aleister is getting to his feet dizzily. Rick swings the chair but the Television Champion goes for a Bicycle Kick at just the right moment and kicks the chair into Rude’s face. When he drops the chair, Black catches it and winds back like he’s going to strike his opponent with it but as he swings it downward, he unfolds it and sets it down, then steps up onto the seat and leaps towards Rude, connecting with a push-up dropkick as both men hit the mat.
Adrenaline has both men up quickly as Aleister charges Rude but Rude goes for a chop block to the knee. Black manages to leap over him to keep his knee out of harm’s way as he steps up onto the second turnbuckle pad and leaps off, hitting a sort of springboard variant of the Black Mass as the impact gets an audible cringe from the crowd as Rude falls to the mat, seemingly out of it.
Black rolls Rude over and goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Somehow the Intercontinental Champion gets the shoulder up. Aleister isn’t appreciative of this as he forcefully guides Rude back to his feet and goes for the standard Black Mass but Rude ducks it and sidesteps, getting into position so that he’s able to set up for the Rude Awakening. Black manages to slip out of the set up as he goes for the Black Mass again but Rude falls to the mat to avoid it as he rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope and starts heading up the ramp.
Tom Phillips: What’s he doing?
Bischoff catches up to him with the Intercontinental Championship in tow as Rude makes a gesture with his hands that communicates he’s done with Black. Black looks furious in the ring as the referee starts to count Rude out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Tom Phillips: I don’t believe this!
Corey Graves: Rick Rude’s just tired of giving his A-game to talent lesser than him, Phillips. It’s all about preservation.
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Black is pacing the ring as Rude and Bischoff stop at the top of the ramp as Rude says to him, “I’ve got bigger fish to fry, kid!”.
SEVEN!
Black screams at Rude to get back to the ring.
EIGHT!
Rude tells him to be careful what he wishes for.
NINE!
Rude takes off running and jumps up onto the apron. Black charges him and takes a swing but Rude drops to the floor and avoids it.
TEN!
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner as the result of a countout, Aleister Black!
Black looks livid as Rude and Bischoff seemingly can’t wipe the smiles off their faces. As they head to the back, cameras get one more shot of an angry Aleister joined in the ring by an angry WALTER as Revolution continues.
Miz: “Ladies and gentlemen…..”
The camera fades in, The Miz is the first one seen, standing backstage, looking dead straight at the camera with a smile on his face, one of sincerity as opposed to the more toothy, faux variants just given months before by the same man.
Miz: “Fairness seems to be something hard to come by nowadays, huh? I mean, you have what Jay White attempted to do alongside Veda Scott, you have The Anti-Austin Alliance doing everything in their limited power to keep the UWF Intercontinental Championship hostage...and then the head honcho himself, mr. Sweet ‘n’ Sour, Larry Sweeney…”
Miz stops for a second, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He reaches over and takes a bottle of Pepsi, already half empty. He finishes it off completely, before placing the bottle right back where he had grabbed it from. Turning back to the camera, he takes a deep breath and continues on.
Miz: “Larry Sweeney...is a cancer. And I’m not talking like astrological signs and horoscopes, I’m talking the disease. Larry Sweeney is...a cancer, a narcissist, an egoist, a horrible wrestler, he’s despicable, an utter annoyance...but above all else, out of everything that he is and everything that he’ll claim I am just projecting onto him, he...is the champion. And it isn’t even ‘somehow’ he is champ, no, because we know how he is champion, and you’ve all seen how, so I’m not going to go over it again.”
Miz takes another breath in, holding it for a second and just letting it build up, before finally releasing a few seconds later, looking back at the camera.
Miz: “So then, why am I here? Well, I’ve heard there is something pretty big coming up soon, something called…”
Miz: “The Royal Rumble. 30 men from both Revolution and Resistance, battling it out, all to take home the prize of a guaranteed title match at Wrestlemania. Now, for those historians in the crowd, you may know that I’ve had quite the success when it comes to the Royal Rumble show. Two years ago, I had won the UWF Universal Tag Team Championships alongside...of all people, New Jack. Six years ago, I had won the FIRST EVER UWF Royal Rumble match, and headlined Wrestlemania II against one of my all-time favorite opponents, Cody Rhodes...this year, though, the stakes are higher. This year, there is almost an...an expectation that whoever wins the Royal Rumble will be the man that ends Larry Sweeney’s reign of terror, that they will go into the main event of Wrestlemania as a complete underdog given all of the goons that Larry has accumulated since becoming champion, and walk out as either the hero of the fans...or the brand new evil that haunts us, and right now, I am proud to announce that I am entering the 2019 Royal Rumble match, and even with the #30 spot taken, it doesn’t matter! I could come in at #1 for all I care, what matters is that once I am in there, there will be nobody whether they are apart of the match or not who can stop me, because I have a mission: I will be the man who ends that reign of terror like I should’ve done at Judgement Day, and whether you are friend or foe, the one thing you’ll have in common is that you’re going to be tossed over that top rope, crash down to the floor, and watch on as Wrestlemania becomes The Most Must-See Event of the year just as always...because I’m The Miz...and I’m...Awesome.”
Even while not being able to hear the cheers in the arena as Miz utters two of his top catchphrases, he is still all smiles as the camera goes elsewhere.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! 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 opponent...
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, Miz and Elix begin to circle each other, Skipper taking wide strides and hopping as Miz moves at a tenser pace. The two men come towards the center of the ring as Miz grabs at Elix but, “Primetime” is able to tuck and roll, ducking it and rolling forward in a ball as he ends up on his feet behind Miz. Miz turns to face him and makes it about halfway as Elix goes for a Pele’ Kick but Miz steps back and delivers a quick kick to the opponent’s upper body. Stunned and prone, Elix has no defense as Miz turns the situation into an Ankle Lock.
Skipper puts his hands flat on the mat and pushes upward, fully extending his arms out as he’s kicking backward at air with his free leg and trying to turn his body to get the other one free. He then drops down and manages to turn, getting his compromised leg free as he draws it inward briefly before extending it, connecting with a kick to Miz’s chest as the, “A-Lister” is sent towards the ropes.
Miz catches himself on the ropes as Elix kips up and rushes him but Miz pulls down the top rope and Elix goes tumbling over but manages to grab the rope as he hangs there from it. Just as he’s about to pull up so that he can begin his attempt to skin the cat, Miz leans through the ropes and goes to apply the full nelson but Elix lets go of the rope to avoid it.
As soon as his feet hit the floor, he leaps up and goes for another Pele’ Kick, connecting this time as Miz is still leaning out through the ropes having just missed the full nelson attempt. Dazed, Miz slumps down, his knees on the mat and his arms hanging down as his upper body is draped over the rope. Elix climbs up onto the apron while this is going on and swings his right leg upward, going for a kick but Miz manages to lunge backward out of the way, managing to grab Skipper’s other leg on the way and pulling as Elix falls back and sideways, landing awkwardly on his ankle as he falls to the floor.
Elix is up to his knees quickly as he uses the ring apron to get the rest of the way to his feet. As he favors his ankle for a moment, Miz comes charging from the other side of the ring and goes for a baseball slide but Elix sidesteps, grabbing Miz’s ankle nearest him and pulling him out of the ring while simultaneously landing a clubbing blow to the midsection using his other arm.
As Miz hits the floor, he sits up and begins getting to a vertical base. When he’s almost there, Elix goes for a superkick to the body but Miz catches his leg and swings it to the side, slamming it against the barricade and flipping his opponent backward. Elix manages to flip backward all the way and land on his feet as Miz goes for an It Kick as he lands but Elix catches the leg and throws it forward, forcing Miz to plant the foot back on the ground.
When Miz’s foot is planted, Elix leaps up and turns, connecting with an enziguiri as Miz staggers forward towards the barricade. Skipper gets up and grabs him by the back of the head, driving it forward but Miz puts his arm in the way so that his forearm keeps his face from connecting. At the same time his face meets his forearm, he throws his other arm backward at an angle, managing to catch his opponent in the side of the abdomen.
Very soon after impact is made with the abdomen, Miz hits a spinning back fist with the other arm that he blocked his face from the barricade with as the two men are now facing each other. Miz goes for a shove with both hands, each arm fully extended and his hands positioned close together but Elix manages to leap backward and stick an impressive landing on the ring apron as, quicker than a hiccup, he launches himself at Miz with a modified Whisper in the Wind.
Tom Phillips: Are you following this, Graves?
Corey Graves: Of course I am, Phillips. It’s my job! What kind of question is that?
Tom Phillips: Well it’s so fast-paced I just thought...
Corey Graves: Well I’m making you a late New Year’s Resolution, you’re not to think out loud ever again.
At ringside, Skipper and Miz are both back to their feet. Elix goes for a standing dropkick but as he does, Miz steps out of the way in a fashion that allows him to catch Elix and hold him briefly before falling, planting one foot and the opposite knee on the ground as he connects with a backbreaker.
As Elix rolls off of Miz’s knee, he catches himself with his hands and pushes up. Miz goes to drop an elbow but as he does, Elix pushes off the ground and gets to a vertical base rather suddenly, staggering back a step or two as Miz makes impact with the floor. Miz gets up holding his elbow and turns to face Elix who runs towards him as he’s getting up so that as he turns to face him, Elix is leaping towards him with his legs tucked inward.
Elix extends them outward quickly and catches Miz in the solar plexus as he’s knocked backward into the barricade and slinks down to a seated position, holding where he was stricken. Skipper climbs to his feet quickly and goes to take a move from Miz’s repertoire, an It Kick, but Miz manages to dive out of the way and Elix hits nothing but barricade.
As he hits the barricade, Miz dives at his other leg, effectively making it give way as Elix falls forward but again puts his hands down to catch himself. Miz was getting up and turning as he fell, fixating his gaze on Elix just as he catches himself. Miz approaches him quickly, bringing his leg back as he does, then swings it forward aiming a kick towards Elix’s abdomen but Elix manages to spring off of the floor with his hands and feet, putting himself up high enough to avoid the kick as he manages to land on his feet close to where the kick was thrown.
As he lands, he goes low, putting his shoulder at Miz’s midsection as he charges forward and drives him back first into the side of the ring. Miz flinches on impact but soon after begins raining punches down onto the back of his opponent with both fists. Skipper backs off and straightens up but the moment he makes eye contact with Miz on the way up, Miz hits him with a straight punch to the nose as, “Primetime” is sent staggering backward.
Elix staggers back a few steps as Miz follows and grabs the back of his head, guiding him back towards the ring and rolling him into it before sliding in after.
Tom Phillips: Well I guess the referee was as enthralled by the action as everyone else considering he didn’t count them at all.
Corey Graves: Must be an Austin loving referee. He had no problem counting out Rick Rude earlier!
In the ring, Miz goes to stomp on Elix but Elix rolls onto the top of his head, at the same time planting his hands on the mat, as he flips forward onto his feet. Once there, he throws a back kick, angling his leg and hitting Miz in the stomach. As Miz winces and hunches a bit, Elix takes off running and leaps up towards the ropes, springing off of them and connecting with a Triangle Dropkick as both men fall to the mat.
Elix pops up quickly again as he scrambles to the top, perching himself there as Miz, his back turned to his opponent, gets to his feet woozily. As Miz turns around, Skipper leaps off the top, turning forward and cradling Miz’s head and neck as he connects with an impressive Over Castle. Skipper goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Miz manages to get the shoulder up. Skipper gets up and actually applauds him briefly as Miz sits up and looks at him, the two trading a smile and a nod. Elix extends his hand and Miz takes it as, “Primetime” actually seems to be helping him to his feet but about halfway up, he keeps him hunched over as he drapes his leg over Miz’s neck and connects with the Play of the Day! The crowd is booing this heavily as Elix again goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Miz kicks out forcefully as Skipper both scramble to their feet and stare one another down.
Tom Phillips: I can’t say I blame Miz for being a little miffed after that near fall.
Corey Graves: All’s fair in love and war. Miz is just upset he didn’t have something like that up his sleeve first.
The two begin circling one another again like they did at the beginning of the match when suddenly...
W-W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Tom Phillips: What?
Corey Graves: Might be time to fry that bigger fish!
Bischoff has a microphone in hand as The Miz and Skipper turn their attention up to the ramp.
Bischoff: Well, well, well...would you look at the surprised look on both of your faces! Elix, did you really think that we had forgotten all about last week? If you haven’t noticed it by now, you don’t pull a stunt like that and get away with it with us! And that goes for “Stone Cold” Steve Austin as well! We are sick and damn tired of the way things are going around here! Austin, after you put your hands on us last week, you just signed your death warrant! Skipper, when we’re through with you there isn’t going to be anything left to piece together to mail you home to your family members!
Skipper and Miz look at each other before Skipper exits the ring and starts marching up the ramp.
Corey Graves: You’ve got a match to finish, you idiot!
Tom Phillips: It’s eat or be eaten, Corey. And Elix isn’t going to take a threat like that lying down!
Bischoff: What? What are you going to do? Are you really going to come after me? Do I pose that big of a threat to you?
Skipper now has ahold of Bischoff by the collar.
Bischoff: Now, hold it! Stop right there! You just made a huge mistake, pal. You’ve left me with no other option! But I don’t have to say a word, do you know why? All I’ve got to do...is….this!
Skipper looks confused at the gesture Eric’s making with his hand. Elix rears his fist back to punch him but suddenly there’s a commotion in the crowd as the camera looks behind Elix Skipper to show two men stepping over the barricade.
Corey Graves: The Outsiders?
Just as Skipper is about to throw the punch, Kevin Nash blindsides him. Scott Hall joins Nash in beating him down as the crowd is booing intensely and Bischoff looks like he’s having the time of his life.
Hall and Nash each take one of Skipper’s wrists and start dragging him down the ramp, Bischoff following after. Nash picks Skipper up and puts his head between his legs, picking him up and hitting a devastating Jackknife Powerbomb, dropping him so that his head and neck hit the ring apron.
Nash peels away the floor padding as Hall picks Skipper up now and puts his head between his legs, picking him up and dropping him hard on the concrete with a Razor’s Edge!
Bischoff has a huge smile on his face as all men do the infamous hand gesture and begin saluting each other with the wolf pack hand gesture. The crowd is booing so loudly that you can barely hear the commentators. Bischoff hands the microphone off to Scott Hall. Scott takes the microphone and holds it up to his mouth to speak, but waits a minute, selling the moment.
Hall:Hey Yo!
The crowd mostly boos, but there are still a few that say it along with Scott Hall.
Hall: You know who we are….and you probably know why we’re here. We’re here to make your problems just a little bit worse. You see, it’s real simple...either you’re with us...or you’re against us. The choice is yours...and if I was you, I’d either stand down or just give up right now. Hey, Big Sexy...anything you want to tell em?
Hall hands off the microphone over to Nash. Trash is now being thrown into the ring at the members of the NWO.
Nash:N W O in the houuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse!
Ya know...when we got the call from Easy E and Slick Rick, we couldn’t help but feel the need to come help out some old friends. We know exactly how it feels to be held down and targeted by somebody in charge. Austin, you better eat your Wheaties and say a few prayers, cuz I don’t think you’re ready for what’s coming your way. You messed with our boys, and we ain’t having it. When you’re NWO, you’re NWO for life! And that’s just too SWEEEEEEEEEEET!
I could go on all day about how great it feels to be back, but I’d be lying. Looking around here at what they call talent. I’m thinking this is going to be too damn easy. Hey champ, tell em how you really feel!
Nash hands off the microphone to Rick Rude. Rude is side stepping debris and trash being thrown into the ring by the upset fans.
Rude: Now, that’s what I call a Rude Awakening. The time of letting things slide by without repercussions is over. We are taking over. The Anti-Austin Alliance is over. The UWF is officially being put on notice, just like Scott said, if you’re not with us, you’re against us. The New World Order is here to stay. Austin, I can’t say that I haven’t warned you. Week in and week out, Eric and I have tried to play by the rules...we’ve tried being nice...and we’ve tried biding our time, hoping that you would see the light and change your ways...yet here we are. This is all because of you, Austin. If you want someone to blame for single handedly bringing forth the destruction of Revolution, then look no further than the man staring back at you in the mirror. I could go on all night about all the things that we are going to do to set this show back on the right track...but instead, I’m going to hand things over to the mastermind behind it all...Mr. Eric Bischoff!
The crowd lets out an “Asshole” chant as Bischoff goes to speak.
Bischoff: Wow! You people like me! You really like me! You are all welcome by the way. We are here to save the show that you all pay to see week in and week out. You people may be too dumb to realize that Stone Cold is running it into the ground, but we all expect that of you. That’s why the NWO is here to save you.
The best part about all of this is we had each and every one of you fooled, even you Austin. Everyone was so hung up on the idea that the Alliance and Sweet n Sour Inc had joined forces into some supergroup. Surprise! Teaming up with Sweeney, that was just a means to an end. But hey: Sweeney, Christian, Edge...thank you guys for all of your help until I could get my boys in town! We truly appreciate it. And if you’re wondering or you’re feeling like jumping on the bandwagon, there’s always room for more in the NWO. We will pack a few extra t-shirts just in case for you guys. We’ll even throw in one for Kyle! But I digress...
Austin, you wanted a war...you got yourself a war. I don’t know how to make it much more simple than this, you asked for this. You’ve made your bed, now you’re going to sleep in it. You fired the first shots, we just hope that you’re ready for what’s coming to you. You put your hands on me, you put your hands on my client….and we’re not going to take it lightly. So go on, run to your board of directors and try and find you some protection for what’s to come. But hey, I could go on forever, but we’ve got a limo waiting for us in the back. Hit our music!
All four men leave the ring, stopping as Hall shakes up a can of paint and spray paints the group letters onto the back of Skipper. As EMTs run down to tend to him, the NWO heads up the ramp, throwing up the Wolfpack sign one more time as Revolution fades to black.
CREDITS
Promos- Respective TT’ers
Ciampa/White, Christian/Jericho- Semi
Trips/Moss- Bodor
Everything else- Dres
Tony Chimel: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, representing Sweet ‘n Sour Inc., he is "Captain Charisma", Christian!
Christian takes his sweet time stepping up the steel steps and into the ring, leaping onto the middle turnbuckles and pointing at his eyes, only to point back to the fans, slapping his chest, and putting a hand over his forehead to scout out his Peeps. He goes over to the opposite turnbuckle and does the very same, smiling a confident smile before leaping down and getting ready.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent...
Out comes the former UWF Champion and newly rediscovered gem in the man they call Chris Jericho. However, atypical to his typical mannerisms, Jericho comes out to the ring with a t-shirt and jeans, and no light show. No jacket, no List, no scarves, no nothing. Just a man and his pants, and a shirt.
Tony Chimel: From Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Weighing in at two hundred and twenty-seven pounds. Chris...Jericho!
Jericho makes his way down the ramp with the same lack of fanfare and enters the ring and gets ready for the match ahead.
DING DING!
The two get together in the middle of the ring and lock up. Christian transitions over to a headlock and tightens a few times down on it. He then flips him over his side and gets the headlock grounded. Christian tightens in a few more times on the ground and looks around the ring for possible ways to tighten it in.
Christian leans back into Jericho and tightens it even further. Suddenly Jericho gets a headscissors on Christian and releases the pressure off his neck, and adding some more to his opponent. Jericho then grabs a hold of his foot and holds it quite firmly to make sure that Christian isn’t going anywhere.
Corey Graves: “The headscissors! The most effective move in the game!”
Christian then slides his arm under the legs of Jericho and releases his grip on it. Christian then pivots round and then gets out of the rest hold. He then drops down Jericho before he can get up with a boot and then runs for the ropes.
Christian returns with a jumping elbow drop connecting onto the side of Jericho. He leads Jericho up and then releases him. He steps back slightly and lays in a forearm to the chest of Jericho and then another one. He then runs past Jericho and jumps up to the second rope.
Tom Phillips: “Really impressive stuff as we start up this match from Christian.”
Christian dives back over the top of Jericho’s head with a springboard sunset flip connecting on him. The referee counts the fall as he hits down on the mat.
One…
Jericho kicks out quickly and the two of them roll backwards up to their feet. Jericho then whips Christian over to the ropes, in which he returns with a leapfrog. Christian changes the direction with hitting an opposite side of the ring’s ropes.
Corey Graves: “Around they go!”
Jericho meets in the middle of the ring with the two of them and hits a bulldog connecting on the back of Christian’s head. Jericho then puts his foot on Christian for a pinfall attempt on him.
On-
Christian kicks out before one and quickly rolls underneath the bottom rope. Jericho then stomps over to where Christian is cradled up and goes to boot at Christian, but he grabs his foot and slides to the outside, making a cruel looking twist on his leg.
Tom Phillips: “Dang, that wasn’t sweet or sour that. Just pure meanness.”
Christian then takes a half lap around the ring and rolls back in, he then whips the stunned Jericho to the other side of the ring and on return levels him out with a clothesline. Christian taunts him to get up, and then Chris gets laid out with another clothesline.
Corey Graves: “He’s really feeling it here Tom! I feel like he’s got a firm hold on Jericho right here.”
Christian then hits the ropes and upon returnal he levels out Jericho with a dropkick. Christian then heads up top for potentially something big. Jericho gets up just to be met with a crossbody off the top rope. The referee counts the fall from this.
One…
Tw-
Suddenly Jericho begins to get up, with a hold on Christian still. He then throws Christian up to his shoulders and then he throws him up once more into the powerbomb position where he almost instantly throws down Christian to the mat. The referee goes to count.
On-
Jericho interrupts the fall by picking up Christian off the mat and powerbombing again but this time around releasing. Jericho then runs over to the ropes and jumps on the second rope to go and deliver the Lionsault but it gets interrupted by Christian’s knees echoing into the chest of Jericho. Christian then small packages Jericho for the fall.
Corey Graves: “Ouch.”
One…
Two…
Jericho kicks out at two from the reversal. As they both roll out Jericho clutches onto his ribs, and almost instantly Christian fires many blows towards him, hitting him towards the ropes. Christian then boots Jericho in the midsection.
Christian snapmares down Jericho into the middle of the ring and then hits the ropes and returns with a dropkick connecting with the side of Jericho’s face. Christian then grabs him up and boots him in the midsection, and lifts him up and plants him with a lifting DDT.
Corey Graves: “Almost reminiscent to his partner Edge right there, maintaining his control over Jericho right here.”
Christian then goes down and lifts him up to whip towards the ropes but Chris refuses to go once Christian goes to throw him. Jericho then whips Christian into the corner. Jericho goes to run for a cornered clothesline on Christian but he slides through the ropes and hits a pendulum kick on Jericho.
Christian then slides through the ropes and goes up to the second rope and hits a diving elbow up on Jericho. The two stay down for a second, and then Christian gets up by using the ropes.
Tom Phillips: “As we head into the later stages of this match the question still poses, what will each of these men do to pick up the win tonight?”
Christian then drags up Jericho up to a stable base and whips him into the corner. He then lifts up Jericho to the top rope and meets him up on the ropes. He then throws Jericho’s arm over his head and then tries to lift him up for a suplex from the top.
Jericho then clubs at the back of Christian and then throws him down to the mat face first. Jericho rests back on the top rope and then gets his feet up there. Jericho waves his hands up and Christian gets up to his feet.
Jericho crashes down to the ground with a double axe handle and walks straight through. Jericho then waves up for him once more and runs up for him looking for the Codebreaker. Christian dodges the move and then forearms him stunning him.
Christian then yells “Come on!” and the crowd get more rowdy and ready. He grabs the arms of Jericho and runs him around finally nailing him with the Killswitch! Christian hooks both legs and the referee counts.
One…
Two…
Three…
DING! DING!
Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, “Captain Charisma” Christian!”
Christian gets his hand raised by the referee and heads up to the top rope and poses, he then takes a good look around the arena as UWF heads elsewhere.
The action in Revolution so far has been amazing but we take a break from that as Dana White, back to his usual T-shirt wearing days, standing in his office, long gone from the hospital bed
How you doing UWF fans?? it's me Dana White your favorite promoter!
The crowd boos, they don't like Dana
I took last week to fully heal from the stroke but now I'm back and better than ever because I have a new opponent for your very own Minoru Suzuki! that's right after Ken Shamrock bailed out of the deal I thought I was over, I didn't know what Suzuki would do to me with no opponent for him to face, but then, while lying on what I thought is going to be my death bed, I received a phone call with an offer I couldn't refuse, and although I had problems with the man in the past we all got over it like grown-ups and so to introduce his client and the next challenger to Minoru Suzuki's UFC belt I give you, the undefeated UWF world heavyweight champion, Larry Sweeney!!
Sweeney: Hahaha! Oh yeah! Issues with Stone Cold Steve Scumbag notwithstanding, business at Sweet n' Sour Inc. has been a' boomin' lately! Haha! I thought being a Triple Champ would keep me too busy to do anything else, but I actually make it all look pretty easy, don't I? So I figured, hey, what the hell, why not dabble a bit in talent management again, especially since I've some brand new friends to help me run the show.
He's talking more to the camera than Dana White, and he smiles his car salesman smile for the fans watching in the arena and around the world as he continues.
Sweeney: So, without further adieu, allow me to introduce to my latest client. This young man defeated a Gold Medalist in his first night as a professional wrestler. He's undefeated in all of the Mixed Martial Arts. He was trained by the legendary Frank Shamrock - ya know, the Shamrock brother that isn't just a miserable, pathetic, washed-up, never-was-ever-going-to-be hack bum. That's right! This is... Daniel Puder!
Puder, dressed up in a nice suit, walks into the shot. He's got strong meathead, jock, chongo vibes, but he seems happy enough to be there. He goes to shake Dana's hand but Larry stops him.
Sweeney: Whoa... easy there, sport. As your representative it's my responsibility to make sure you always get the best treatment, the best match-ups, and the best deals.
Larry turns and looks Dana White dead in the eyes.
Sweeney: What I'm tryin' to say is that there is no way in hell Daniel Puder is evvvvvvvvvvvvver going to fight in the UFC! Hahahaha!
Dana's face suddenly turn very pink as he coughs and starts talking
Wha.. what do you mean he isn't going to fight in the UFC? WE HAD A DEAL, YOU FUCKHEAD! ALREADY INVITED SUZUKI HERE FOR A FACEOFF
Larry cackles a devilish cackle.
Sweeney: Haha! A deal? A deal, huh? Just like we had with Kyle? Spare me, ya bloated schmuck! I swore you'd rue the day you crossed Larry Sweeney and I am a man of my word! Tonight, you'll lie in bed knowing that I got the better of you, and that I always will, because I'm the better man! You can to your grave countin' on it, Dana! Ha! Hahaha! Boy, I sure fooled you! As if I'd ever let a client in my care get their hands dirty with a scummy slumlord like Dana White! Never!
Now if you'll excuse us, we've got some real work to deal with. There's a GM to get fired, tag team titles to be one, and Daniel here is going to get started his training with the Canadian Dragon a-s-a-p! Just you wait and see! Sweet n' Sour is gonna dwarf your cute little UFC, and you'll know that should've done better business with us when you had the chance!
Sweeney turns and storms out. Puder shrugs and follows him. Dana falls down on his chair and puts his head in his hands when suddenly a knock on the door can be heard, the knocker doesn't wait for an answer and it's revealed to be Minoru Suzuki, he opens the door and takes a look around the room and when he sees that it's only Dana in there he chuckles to himself
I was promised a fight, Dana, where's my fight, Uncle Dana?
Suzuki starts a menacing walk towards Dana's desk as the UFC president gets up from and starts to back off into the wall
I.. someone called me with a fight but he backed out just now, I.. I'll get you a fight... I promise.. just give me a few more days, please
At this point, Dana is trapped between the wall and Suzuki grabs his throat, gets right into his face and starts talking
I gave you more than a month, it should be more than enough time to find a fight for your heavyweight champion, you're holding me, your main title belt and the whole combat sports world down by your mere presence, it's time I'll do these things a favor.
Suzuki chuckles and opens up his free hand in an attempt to slap Dana but Dana isn't going down without a fight, he quickly throws a surprise hook at Suzuki that stuns him for a second!
Come on motherfucker, I was once threatened by the mob, I'm a former boxer, you don't scare me anymore, come get a piece of this shit.
trash talking wasn't the best idea, Suzuki just laughs then immediately comes back at Dana with a hard slap, knocking him out
You wouldn't be my first choice for a fight, but you'll do.
Suzuki picks up Dana and grabs him by the back of the head, with his free hand he starts dishing slaps and forearms to the already unconscious Dana and when he decides he's done playing with him he spins him around and locks in the sleeper! Dana's body moves a little bit as he tries to fight out of it but very quickly his face turns bright red which quickly turns into white and then blue and after a few seconds his body stops moving, Suzuki laughs and releases the hold making Dana fall like a sack of potatoes.
Tom Phillips: Oh my god, did he.. did he just kill him?!
Corey Graves: Shut up Phillips, we're not supposed to talk here!
He picks up Dana's phone and sees that the last phone call was from Larry Sweeney, Suzuki's face suddenly turn from amusement to anger as he crushes the phone and the titantron fades to black with the image of him leaving the office, kicking the door in the process
The shot opens up in a dark white padded room. In one corner is a plain white chair illuminated by a small light. On another side is a metal door, which opens as a man is thrown into the darkness of the cell only to promptly be shut. The man immediately begins screaming and yelling, tearing at the walls and floors and banging into the sides of the room. Eventually, he crawls into the chair, defeated and exhausted. The shot then flickers, before it returns to a different shot of the same room, now decrepit, molded, and broken down. The chair remains in the same area, only occupied by the man's decomposing skeleton.
Aleister Black and WALTER walk out through the same door the man was thrown through. They approach the camera, as Aleister Black rolls up one of his sleeves. He begins talking.
Aleister: The lips of fools bring them strife, and their mouths invite a beating.
The definition of insanity is to try the same thing over and over in expectation of a different result. And Rude, right now, you should be in this very room. I see the claw hold of insanity digging its way deep into your drug-rattled mind. You say the same things, you do the same things, over and over and over and over and it leaves me wondering how you're going to cope with the fact that it won't work tonight. You love to try to "understand me", to ask "how are you going to feel when I beat you fair and square," but the fact of the matter is, Rude, that won't happen. I know that won't happen because I can see that your psyche is fractured and that you are insane. You keep saying "3rd longest reigning Intercontinental Champion," and, "co-captain of Team Revolution," and you act like you don't care what I think, but you do. You know damn well that those accolades are the only thing you have over me. Had I returned sooner, well, let's just say you'd be kissing those little "achievements," though I use the word very loosely, goodbye.
But no, I don't need any "achievements" or "records" to validate who I know I am. Because unlike you, I'm not a joke. I'm not a one-trick-pony strip tease who walks out each week, hits a neckbreaker on some low-level troglodyte, and says that THAT makes them the "measuring stick of the company" or the "big man on campus." Do you think that someone like me who has beaten everyone under the sun, who has put messages in their skin through ink and needle, who has racked up title after title is just "smoke and mirrors?" Maybe, just maybe when you're saying "smoke and mirrors," those mirrors might just be pointed at you, Rude, because you're the joke. You hide in little groups of yes men and you try to "rebel" against the authority to draw any last attention to your dying career, while I've been doing what you wish you could be doing. Proving that I am the best in the business. And again unlike you, I don't even need to try because I am eternal.
Aleister smirks a bit at the reusage of Rude's "best in the business" line. He puts his finger to his temple before speaking again.
Aleister: You want to know why I use biblical quotes and stories? Do you really want to know why I use those? You see, what I like about stories and quotes is that they have a moral. They have a clear-cut message to them that anyone to see. We tell stories to children who lack the intellectual capability to make their own decisions. Whether it be those idiotic drones out there or the man himself, you, Rick Rude, they are easy to tell to idiots. Idiots like you who just... can't... listen. Who can't respect their superiors. Who can't respect God. I. Am. God.
He points to himself and smirks yet again, as WALTER moves forward to speak.
WALTER: And since you decided to ignore his quotes, there's only one alternative now. He will beat the education into your broken, old, withering body one kick at a time. And when he's done you will no longer be the 3rd longest reigning Intercontinental Champion, you will only be known as the 7 in 7-0. People like you are a cancer... a disease in this business. A disease that needs to be removed. And we are the antibiotics. We will leave you dead where you stand.
Aleister: So don't be surprised when the rookie you keep describing does the "unthinkable" and kicks the head off of the reigning, "defending" Intercontinental Champion. It's nothing personal, ending your little... dog and pony show with your shiny little title and your two friends by your side. It's just for the greater good.
Aleister motions to both himself and WALTER.
Aleister: We... are eternal. And in the dying days of Resistance, we have our eyes set on the tag titles that will rise from its ashes. We'd love to give a... warm welcome to anybody who tries to prevent us from taking them. With kicks and chops and the fury of hell raining down upon you. We can take any titles we damn well please, at any time, at any place. And that's exactly what we're going to do. In our wake will be broken bodies and broken souls. So, Rick Rude and any other pitiful members of the UWF, heed this warning, heed this card, and heed it well, because this card is what decides your future. This is what holds your fate, and I hold it in the palm of my hand.
Death.
He holds up said tarot card for the world to see, before taking a lighter to it and setting it on fire. He drops it and the camera moves down to show it laying on the ground. Scrawled on the back side of the card is the same 8-pointed star.
The titantron goes back to the regular Revolution graphic in preparation for what happens next.
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...
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: It’s like this, Aleister. “Ravishing” Rick Rude isn’t a man that scares easily so you wanting me to be intimidated by you is the same thing as asking me to be afraid of my own shadow, it’s ridiculous. But since shadows and hocus pocus is what interests you, why don’t you pop a squat in mine. Because as long as you and I share space on this Earth, that’s the closest you’re going to get to greatness. Now what I would like to have right now is for all these bloated, grotesque, out of shape, abuses of government handouts to keep the noise down while I take off my robe and show all these women in attendance and watching at home what it looks like when you treat your body like a temple instead of a dumpster. Hit my music!
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, the young Television Champion immediately goes on the offensive as he throws a right punch. Rude puts his own right hand up and catches it to block as he also raises his left hand and wags his pointer finger back and forth, almost scolding his opponent for getting too anxious. Black pulls his hand away and throws a left but Rude manages to grab around the wrist with both hands to stop the punch as he then turns so that he’s facing away and falls, wrenching that area of Aleister’s arm over his shoulder.
As the impact sends him backward slightly, Black regains his footing as he holds his wrist in pain, rubbing up and down his arm for a moment before shaking it to get the blood flowing. Meanwhile Rude is up to his feet as he shoots the youngster a cocky smirk. Black doesn’t appreciate the disrespect as the two lunge at each other, seemingly going for a collar-elbow tie-up but Rick feigns to the side and connects with a thumb to Aleister’s eye.
While Black is holding his eye in pain, the palm of his hand rested over it, Rude delivers a kick to the solar plexus as the TV Champ hunches over as a result. As Rude hooks his arm around Black’s head to follow up, when he goes to get hold of Aleister’s arm to put it into position, Black manages to avoid Rude’s grasp by slipping his arm downward, connecting with a punch to the lower body.
As Rude lets out a cry of pain, Black soon reverses the situation and positions his arm where Rude previously had his arm on him and then puts Rude’s arm in place as he hoists him straight up off the mat and in the air, holding him upside down and at a vertical angle.
Corey Graves: What strength we’re seeing on display here!
Tom Phillips: That’s hard to do to a regular superstar, it’s even more impressive that he can do that to Rick Rude.
Corey Graves: Well that’s because Rick Rude is no ordinary superstar, Phillips. I knew you wouldn’t be able to deny his greatness forever.
Tom Phillips: I actually meant all that self-inflatedness likely makes him heavier but what would an athlete like him be without cheerleaders like you?
Black falls to complete the suplex but they’re positioned near the ropes so as Rude is brought down, he manages to slip free and land outside on the apron. The crowd actually gasps at the athleticism as Rude gets cocky as he turns around, back to the ropes, and puts his hands on his head, gyrating his hips as he’s known to do. While this is going on, Black charges him and delivers a big boot between the shoulder blades as Rude is knocked off of the apron through the air and lands nastily on the ringside barricade.
As Rude slinks to his knees, Aleister quickly exits the ring and pulls him to his feet, grabbing the back of his head and driving him face first into the top of the barricade. He repeats this a few times before grabbing Rude’s wrist with his free hand and pins Rude’s face to the barricade with the one already holding his head as he takes off running, dragging the face of the Intercontinental Champion along the top of the barricade until they arrive at the end of it.
Aleister releases Rude’s wrist and head as he gets up groggily and shoves him in the chest violently with both hands. Black is sent a few steps back as he looks down at where he was touched to be shoved and then looks back up at Rude as he turns quickly and knocks down the, “Ravishing One” with a spinning back kick.
Tom Phillips: Uh oh. The last thing Rude wants is for Black to get going with those fatal feet.
Corey Graves: He can connect with every variation of kick he knows and it still isn’t going to win this one for him! Sounds like you’ve got a fetish with Aleister Black’s feet!
Tom Phillips: Even if I did, it would still pall in comparison to how badly you want a mustache ride from Rick Rude.
As Rude is lying on the ground, suddenly Bischoff comes running over to check on him. Black tells him to move as Bischoff gets up and takes a martial arts stance. As Black starts walking towards him, Bischoff immediately puts his hands up and starts backing away. As they round the corner, suddenly Bischoff stops as it’s clear he’s bumped in to someone. As he turns around, he’s now looking at Black’s partner WALTER!
Bischoff turns and slides into the ring to try and escape as Black and WALTER each grab an ankle and pull him out of the ring. Black stands him up and throws him back first into the barricade as WALTER hits him in the chest with one of his devastating chops!
Corey Graves: Oh my God! Bischoff’s insides may have been jellified by that chop! Somebody eject this freak from ringside!
Tom Phillips: You’re more than welcome to try, Corey.
As Bischoff is practically convulsing on the floor, Rude comes running around the corner as he blasts Black in the back of the head with a double axe handle. He begins putting the boots to Black furiously but soon stops his assault when he senses something’s amiss. As he slowly looks up, there stands WALTER. Rude puts his hands up, wanting none of him, as he slides into the ring to get away with Black soon getting up and following after.
When Black stands up, Rude rakes the eyes and brings him over with an arm drag as he puts his hands down forcibly one Black lands in a seated position, pressing his fingers into the area of the collarbone nearest the neck. While he does this, he begins delivering knees to the middle of the back, connecting flush with the spine with each strike.
With a number of knee strikes he deems satisfactory landed and a duration of time digging his fingers into the collarbone he deems enough having passed, Rude turns his hands like he’s working both handles of a sink faucet and actually grips Black’s collarbone with both of them as he pulls the dark dweller to his feet before immediately planting him into the mat with a reverse Russian Leg Sweep.
As Rude outstretches his arms to pose, Bischoff approaches an area of the ringside with a steel chair as he slides it into the ring. Soon after this dastardly trick, he gets steamrolled by WALTER as WALTER climbs up on the apron.
Corey Graves: What’s this neanderthal doing?
Tom Phillips: My guess would be looking to stop Rude from using that chair.
WALTER is stopped by the ref as the two of them argue. As they do, Rude picks up the chair and waits as Aleister is getting to his feet dizzily. Rick swings the chair but the Television Champion goes for a Bicycle Kick at just the right moment and kicks the chair into Rude’s face. When he drops the chair, Black catches it and winds back like he’s going to strike his opponent with it but as he swings it downward, he unfolds it and sets it down, then steps up onto the seat and leaps towards Rude, connecting with a push-up dropkick as both men hit the mat.
Adrenaline has both men up quickly as Aleister charges Rude but Rude goes for a chop block to the knee. Black manages to leap over him to keep his knee out of harm’s way as he steps up onto the second turnbuckle pad and leaps off, hitting a sort of springboard variant of the Black Mass as the impact gets an audible cringe from the crowd as Rude falls to the mat, seemingly out of it.
Black rolls Rude over and goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Somehow the Intercontinental Champion gets the shoulder up. Aleister isn’t appreciative of this as he forcefully guides Rude back to his feet and goes for the standard Black Mass but Rude ducks it and sidesteps, getting into position so that he’s able to set up for the Rude Awakening. Black manages to slip out of the set up as he goes for the Black Mass again but Rude falls to the mat to avoid it as he rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope and starts heading up the ramp.
Tom Phillips: What’s he doing?
Bischoff catches up to him with the Intercontinental Championship in tow as Rude makes a gesture with his hands that communicates he’s done with Black. Black looks furious in the ring as the referee starts to count Rude out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Tom Phillips: I don’t believe this!
Corey Graves: Rick Rude’s just tired of giving his A-game to talent lesser than him, Phillips. It’s all about preservation.
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Black is pacing the ring as Rude and Bischoff stop at the top of the ramp as Rude says to him, “I’ve got bigger fish to fry, kid!”.
SEVEN!
Black screams at Rude to get back to the ring.
EIGHT!
Rude tells him to be careful what he wishes for.
NINE!
Rude takes off running and jumps up onto the apron. Black charges him and takes a swing but Rude drops to the floor and avoids it.
TEN!
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner as the result of a countout, Aleister Black!
Black looks livid as Rude and Bischoff seemingly can’t wipe the smiles off their faces. As they head to the back, cameras get one more shot of an angry Aleister joined in the ring by an angry WALTER as Revolution continues.
Miz: “Ladies and gentlemen…..”
The camera fades in, The Miz is the first one seen, standing backstage, looking dead straight at the camera with a smile on his face, one of sincerity as opposed to the more toothy, faux variants just given months before by the same man.
Miz: “Fairness seems to be something hard to come by nowadays, huh? I mean, you have what Jay White attempted to do alongside Veda Scott, you have The Anti-Austin Alliance doing everything in their limited power to keep the UWF Intercontinental Championship hostage...and then the head honcho himself, mr. Sweet ‘n’ Sour, Larry Sweeney…”
Miz stops for a second, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He reaches over and takes a bottle of Pepsi, already half empty. He finishes it off completely, before placing the bottle right back where he had grabbed it from. Turning back to the camera, he takes a deep breath and continues on.
Miz: “Larry Sweeney...is a cancer. And I’m not talking like astrological signs and horoscopes, I’m talking the disease. Larry Sweeney is...a cancer, a narcissist, an egoist, a horrible wrestler, he’s despicable, an utter annoyance...but above all else, out of everything that he is and everything that he’ll claim I am just projecting onto him, he...is the champion. And it isn’t even ‘somehow’ he is champ, no, because we know how he is champion, and you’ve all seen how, so I’m not going to go over it again.”
Miz takes another breath in, holding it for a second and just letting it build up, before finally releasing a few seconds later, looking back at the camera.
Miz: “So then, why am I here? Well, I’ve heard there is something pretty big coming up soon, something called…”
Miz: “The Royal Rumble. 30 men from both Revolution and Resistance, battling it out, all to take home the prize of a guaranteed title match at Wrestlemania. Now, for those historians in the crowd, you may know that I’ve had quite the success when it comes to the Royal Rumble show. Two years ago, I had won the UWF Universal Tag Team Championships alongside...of all people, New Jack. Six years ago, I had won the FIRST EVER UWF Royal Rumble match, and headlined Wrestlemania II against one of my all-time favorite opponents, Cody Rhodes...this year, though, the stakes are higher. This year, there is almost an...an expectation that whoever wins the Royal Rumble will be the man that ends Larry Sweeney’s reign of terror, that they will go into the main event of Wrestlemania as a complete underdog given all of the goons that Larry has accumulated since becoming champion, and walk out as either the hero of the fans...or the brand new evil that haunts us, and right now, I am proud to announce that I am entering the 2019 Royal Rumble match, and even with the #30 spot taken, it doesn’t matter! I could come in at #1 for all I care, what matters is that once I am in there, there will be nobody whether they are apart of the match or not who can stop me, because I have a mission: I will be the man who ends that reign of terror like I should’ve done at Judgement Day, and whether you are friend or foe, the one thing you’ll have in common is that you’re going to be tossed over that top rope, crash down to the floor, and watch on as Wrestlemania becomes The Most Must-See Event of the year just as always...because I’m The Miz...and I’m...Awesome.”
Even while not being able to hear the cheers in the arena as Miz utters two of his top catchphrases, he is still all smiles as the camera goes elsewhere.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! 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 opponent...
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, Miz and Elix begin to circle each other, Skipper taking wide strides and hopping as Miz moves at a tenser pace. The two men come towards the center of the ring as Miz grabs at Elix but, “Primetime” is able to tuck and roll, ducking it and rolling forward in a ball as he ends up on his feet behind Miz. Miz turns to face him and makes it about halfway as Elix goes for a Pele’ Kick but Miz steps back and delivers a quick kick to the opponent’s upper body. Stunned and prone, Elix has no defense as Miz turns the situation into an Ankle Lock.
Skipper puts his hands flat on the mat and pushes upward, fully extending his arms out as he’s kicking backward at air with his free leg and trying to turn his body to get the other one free. He then drops down and manages to turn, getting his compromised leg free as he draws it inward briefly before extending it, connecting with a kick to Miz’s chest as the, “A-Lister” is sent towards the ropes.
Miz catches himself on the ropes as Elix kips up and rushes him but Miz pulls down the top rope and Elix goes tumbling over but manages to grab the rope as he hangs there from it. Just as he’s about to pull up so that he can begin his attempt to skin the cat, Miz leans through the ropes and goes to apply the full nelson but Elix lets go of the rope to avoid it.
As soon as his feet hit the floor, he leaps up and goes for another Pele’ Kick, connecting this time as Miz is still leaning out through the ropes having just missed the full nelson attempt. Dazed, Miz slumps down, his knees on the mat and his arms hanging down as his upper body is draped over the rope. Elix climbs up onto the apron while this is going on and swings his right leg upward, going for a kick but Miz manages to lunge backward out of the way, managing to grab Skipper’s other leg on the way and pulling as Elix falls back and sideways, landing awkwardly on his ankle as he falls to the floor.
Elix is up to his knees quickly as he uses the ring apron to get the rest of the way to his feet. As he favors his ankle for a moment, Miz comes charging from the other side of the ring and goes for a baseball slide but Elix sidesteps, grabbing Miz’s ankle nearest him and pulling him out of the ring while simultaneously landing a clubbing blow to the midsection using his other arm.
As Miz hits the floor, he sits up and begins getting to a vertical base. When he’s almost there, Elix goes for a superkick to the body but Miz catches his leg and swings it to the side, slamming it against the barricade and flipping his opponent backward. Elix manages to flip backward all the way and land on his feet as Miz goes for an It Kick as he lands but Elix catches the leg and throws it forward, forcing Miz to plant the foot back on the ground.
When Miz’s foot is planted, Elix leaps up and turns, connecting with an enziguiri as Miz staggers forward towards the barricade. Skipper gets up and grabs him by the back of the head, driving it forward but Miz puts his arm in the way so that his forearm keeps his face from connecting. At the same time his face meets his forearm, he throws his other arm backward at an angle, managing to catch his opponent in the side of the abdomen.
Very soon after impact is made with the abdomen, Miz hits a spinning back fist with the other arm that he blocked his face from the barricade with as the two men are now facing each other. Miz goes for a shove with both hands, each arm fully extended and his hands positioned close together but Elix manages to leap backward and stick an impressive landing on the ring apron as, quicker than a hiccup, he launches himself at Miz with a modified Whisper in the Wind.
Tom Phillips: Are you following this, Graves?
Corey Graves: Of course I am, Phillips. It’s my job! What kind of question is that?
Tom Phillips: Well it’s so fast-paced I just thought...
Corey Graves: Well I’m making you a late New Year’s Resolution, you’re not to think out loud ever again.
At ringside, Skipper and Miz are both back to their feet. Elix goes for a standing dropkick but as he does, Miz steps out of the way in a fashion that allows him to catch Elix and hold him briefly before falling, planting one foot and the opposite knee on the ground as he connects with a backbreaker.
As Elix rolls off of Miz’s knee, he catches himself with his hands and pushes up. Miz goes to drop an elbow but as he does, Elix pushes off the ground and gets to a vertical base rather suddenly, staggering back a step or two as Miz makes impact with the floor. Miz gets up holding his elbow and turns to face Elix who runs towards him as he’s getting up so that as he turns to face him, Elix is leaping towards him with his legs tucked inward.
Elix extends them outward quickly and catches Miz in the solar plexus as he’s knocked backward into the barricade and slinks down to a seated position, holding where he was stricken. Skipper climbs to his feet quickly and goes to take a move from Miz’s repertoire, an It Kick, but Miz manages to dive out of the way and Elix hits nothing but barricade.
As he hits the barricade, Miz dives at his other leg, effectively making it give way as Elix falls forward but again puts his hands down to catch himself. Miz was getting up and turning as he fell, fixating his gaze on Elix just as he catches himself. Miz approaches him quickly, bringing his leg back as he does, then swings it forward aiming a kick towards Elix’s abdomen but Elix manages to spring off of the floor with his hands and feet, putting himself up high enough to avoid the kick as he manages to land on his feet close to where the kick was thrown.
As he lands, he goes low, putting his shoulder at Miz’s midsection as he charges forward and drives him back first into the side of the ring. Miz flinches on impact but soon after begins raining punches down onto the back of his opponent with both fists. Skipper backs off and straightens up but the moment he makes eye contact with Miz on the way up, Miz hits him with a straight punch to the nose as, “Primetime” is sent staggering backward.
Elix staggers back a few steps as Miz follows and grabs the back of his head, guiding him back towards the ring and rolling him into it before sliding in after.
Tom Phillips: Well I guess the referee was as enthralled by the action as everyone else considering he didn’t count them at all.
Corey Graves: Must be an Austin loving referee. He had no problem counting out Rick Rude earlier!
In the ring, Miz goes to stomp on Elix but Elix rolls onto the top of his head, at the same time planting his hands on the mat, as he flips forward onto his feet. Once there, he throws a back kick, angling his leg and hitting Miz in the stomach. As Miz winces and hunches a bit, Elix takes off running and leaps up towards the ropes, springing off of them and connecting with a Triangle Dropkick as both men fall to the mat.
Elix pops up quickly again as he scrambles to the top, perching himself there as Miz, his back turned to his opponent, gets to his feet woozily. As Miz turns around, Skipper leaps off the top, turning forward and cradling Miz’s head and neck as he connects with an impressive Over Castle. Skipper goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Miz manages to get the shoulder up. Skipper gets up and actually applauds him briefly as Miz sits up and looks at him, the two trading a smile and a nod. Elix extends his hand and Miz takes it as, “Primetime” actually seems to be helping him to his feet but about halfway up, he keeps him hunched over as he drapes his leg over Miz’s neck and connects with the Play of the Day! The crowd is booing this heavily as Elix again goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Miz kicks out forcefully as Skipper both scramble to their feet and stare one another down.
Tom Phillips: I can’t say I blame Miz for being a little miffed after that near fall.
Corey Graves: All’s fair in love and war. Miz is just upset he didn’t have something like that up his sleeve first.
The two begin circling one another again like they did at the beginning of the match when suddenly...
W-W-W-W-W-WE ARE IN CONTROL!
Tom Phillips: What?
Corey Graves: Might be time to fry that bigger fish!
Bischoff has a microphone in hand as The Miz and Skipper turn their attention up to the ramp.
Bischoff: Well, well, well...would you look at the surprised look on both of your faces! Elix, did you really think that we had forgotten all about last week? If you haven’t noticed it by now, you don’t pull a stunt like that and get away with it with us! And that goes for “Stone Cold” Steve Austin as well! We are sick and damn tired of the way things are going around here! Austin, after you put your hands on us last week, you just signed your death warrant! Skipper, when we’re through with you there isn’t going to be anything left to piece together to mail you home to your family members!
Skipper and Miz look at each other before Skipper exits the ring and starts marching up the ramp.
Corey Graves: You’ve got a match to finish, you idiot!
Tom Phillips: It’s eat or be eaten, Corey. And Elix isn’t going to take a threat like that lying down!
Bischoff: What? What are you going to do? Are you really going to come after me? Do I pose that big of a threat to you?
Skipper now has ahold of Bischoff by the collar.
Bischoff: Now, hold it! Stop right there! You just made a huge mistake, pal. You’ve left me with no other option! But I don’t have to say a word, do you know why? All I’ve got to do...is….this!
Skipper looks confused at the gesture Eric’s making with his hand. Elix rears his fist back to punch him but suddenly there’s a commotion in the crowd as the camera looks behind Elix Skipper to show two men stepping over the barricade.
Corey Graves: The Outsiders?
Just as Skipper is about to throw the punch, Kevin Nash blindsides him. Scott Hall joins Nash in beating him down as the crowd is booing intensely and Bischoff looks like he’s having the time of his life.
Hall and Nash each take one of Skipper’s wrists and start dragging him down the ramp, Bischoff following after. Nash picks Skipper up and puts his head between his legs, picking him up and hitting a devastating Jackknife Powerbomb, dropping him so that his head and neck hit the ring apron.
Nash peels away the floor padding as Hall picks Skipper up now and puts his head between his legs, picking him up and dropping him hard on the concrete with a Razor’s Edge!
Bischoff has a huge smile on his face as all men do the infamous hand gesture and begin saluting each other with the wolf pack hand gesture. The crowd is booing so loudly that you can barely hear the commentators. Bischoff hands the microphone off to Scott Hall. Scott takes the microphone and holds it up to his mouth to speak, but waits a minute, selling the moment.
Hall:Hey Yo!
The crowd mostly boos, but there are still a few that say it along with Scott Hall.
Hall: You know who we are….and you probably know why we’re here. We’re here to make your problems just a little bit worse. You see, it’s real simple...either you’re with us...or you’re against us. The choice is yours...and if I was you, I’d either stand down or just give up right now. Hey, Big Sexy...anything you want to tell em?
Hall hands off the microphone over to Nash. Trash is now being thrown into the ring at the members of the NWO.
Nash:N W O in the houuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse!
Ya know...when we got the call from Easy E and Slick Rick, we couldn’t help but feel the need to come help out some old friends. We know exactly how it feels to be held down and targeted by somebody in charge. Austin, you better eat your Wheaties and say a few prayers, cuz I don’t think you’re ready for what’s coming your way. You messed with our boys, and we ain’t having it. When you’re NWO, you’re NWO for life! And that’s just too SWEEEEEEEEEEET!
I could go on all day about how great it feels to be back, but I’d be lying. Looking around here at what they call talent. I’m thinking this is going to be too damn easy. Hey champ, tell em how you really feel!
Nash hands off the microphone to Rick Rude. Rude is side stepping debris and trash being thrown into the ring by the upset fans.
Rude: Now, that’s what I call a Rude Awakening. The time of letting things slide by without repercussions is over. We are taking over. The Anti-Austin Alliance is over. The UWF is officially being put on notice, just like Scott said, if you’re not with us, you’re against us. The New World Order is here to stay. Austin, I can’t say that I haven’t warned you. Week in and week out, Eric and I have tried to play by the rules...we’ve tried being nice...and we’ve tried biding our time, hoping that you would see the light and change your ways...yet here we are. This is all because of you, Austin. If you want someone to blame for single handedly bringing forth the destruction of Revolution, then look no further than the man staring back at you in the mirror. I could go on all night about all the things that we are going to do to set this show back on the right track...but instead, I’m going to hand things over to the mastermind behind it all...Mr. Eric Bischoff!
The crowd lets out an “Asshole” chant as Bischoff goes to speak.
Bischoff: Wow! You people like me! You really like me! You are all welcome by the way. We are here to save the show that you all pay to see week in and week out. You people may be too dumb to realize that Stone Cold is running it into the ground, but we all expect that of you. That’s why the NWO is here to save you.
The best part about all of this is we had each and every one of you fooled, even you Austin. Everyone was so hung up on the idea that the Alliance and Sweet n Sour Inc had joined forces into some supergroup. Surprise! Teaming up with Sweeney, that was just a means to an end. But hey: Sweeney, Christian, Edge...thank you guys for all of your help until I could get my boys in town! We truly appreciate it. And if you’re wondering or you’re feeling like jumping on the bandwagon, there’s always room for more in the NWO. We will pack a few extra t-shirts just in case for you guys. We’ll even throw in one for Kyle! But I digress...
Austin, you wanted a war...you got yourself a war. I don’t know how to make it much more simple than this, you asked for this. You’ve made your bed, now you’re going to sleep in it. You fired the first shots, we just hope that you’re ready for what’s coming to you. You put your hands on me, you put your hands on my client….and we’re not going to take it lightly. So go on, run to your board of directors and try and find you some protection for what’s to come. But hey, I could go on forever, but we’ve got a limo waiting for us in the back. Hit our music!
All four men leave the ring, stopping as Hall shakes up a can of paint and spray paints the group letters onto the back of Skipper. As EMTs run down to tend to him, the NWO heads up the ramp, throwing up the Wolfpack sign one more time as Revolution fades to black.
CREDITS
Promos- Respective TT’ers
Ciampa/White, Christian/Jericho- Semi
Trips/Moss- Bodor
Everything else- Dres
