Revolution 2/19/19 Edition

[Dres]

  
The titantron cuts to a different image, that of what appears to be the recording studio of The Peeple's Podcast! Whether it is the real thing or not remains to be seen. A door to the left opens as Aleister Black and WALTER walk into the studio. Aleister immediately begins destroying the place, knocking mugs, papers, etc. on the floor. WALTER chooses to instead stand in the back, staring into the camera with his arms behind his back. Aleister ends it by pulling out a knife and putting it through a computer monitor. He turns to the camera, lights now flickering, with an 8-pointed star inscribed or scratched into the wall behind them and scrawled on the door. A replica UWF Undisputed Championship lies on the table beside him. He begins to speak.



Aleister: Then I saw an Angel coming down from heaven, holding in his hand the key to the bottomless pit and a great chain. And he seized the dragon, the ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years, and threw him into the pit.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, looking deep into the camera.

Aleister: Here's a little... question in mathematics for you. Something that neither that slack-jawed idiot Kevin Nash, nor quite frankly any of you, have done in quite a while, since you seemed to think that fucking with the Sumerian Death Squad was a good idea. What do you get when you add an obnoxious personality... no in-ring talent... a couple of boas... a couple of old Canadian men, and a five-year-old for good measure? You get our current UWF Undisputed Champion, Larry Sweeney. A man so desperate to keep his title that he will get his own little military to help him out. A man so desperate to retain the respect of the audience that as soon as I try to go into business with the interests of N.S.D.S. in mind, as soon as I try to counter-offer for a shot at his title, he calls me a coward. Sweeney... Sweeney, you must be mistaken. Is it not you who has relied on underhanded tactics and tricks to keep his championships? Is it not you whose entire reign has been questionable? Is it not you who is the "quivering bitch?" Huh? Oh no, you're just a saint aren't you? Perfect in every way.

Larry, the point is, you can keep those little... achievements, those title "defenses," those underhanded tactics, and you can shove them. Because I see directly through them. And when you pierce the shield, when you look directly into who Sweeney is, what makes Sweeney tick, you see a quivering little crybaby know-it-all coward bitch, as predictable as all the others. And you're right, a lot of what I said is "I'm going to," because I have a hell of a lot that I want to do, unlike those little unmotivated pansies that you have behind you. I want to prove that you're not the perfect Triple Champion you want us to believe that you are. Because I live by a code, we live by a code. A code that says no man is ever fully good, and no man is ever fully evil. I will prove that with my fists, with my feet...

And with my blood.

He pulls the knife that is still plunged into the monitor out, before using it to make a gash in the palm of his hand. He holds it up for the camera to see.

Larry, Larry, Larry... You just made the worst decision of your life. All you had to do was accept your fate and lose to us, but instead you brought all of the king's horses, and all of the king's men, and yet all of them combined couldn't stop one... Kenny... Omega... You must think you're so smart, huh? You must think that you were so clever in running away from us like the cowards you are. You must think you were just so hilarious when you had your committee of old washed-up men beat us down when you couldn't. Yet you seem to forget one thing, Larry. You seem to forget that I will remember every last punch, every last kick, every last stomp thrown by you and the Old World Order. I will remember it, and I will enact it upon you tenfold. They will have to scrape your face off of the canvas after I'm done with you. You made an enemy out of the wrong people, Sweeney. We don't care if we have to go through Edge, Christian, Hall, Nash, bring the entire elementary school O'Reilly goes to for all we care. We will destroy them all.

Because you see this blood? This is blood that was born to respect to foundation of this sport. This is the blood that sets me apart from you, Sweeney. This is the blood that is going to rip the titles from your hands and cave your skull in. I will get my revenge upon you, upon your little group, upon everyone on this roster who has wronged me. You want a lesson in humility? I will kill you. You got that? I will fucking murder you. Because I am tired of disrespect. I am tired of people like you flaunting your underhanded victories and your cheap tricks like they mean anything.

As soon you run out of old men to draft into your little circus, the moment you run out of people to pay off, we're gunning for that shiny little toy on your shoulder. The UWF Championship is New Sumerian Death Squad property, and this time you won't have a choice in defending it. When you're done with Omega, we're going to do anything, everything in our power to wrench your precious belt away from you. We will win the rumble, and if somehow we don't, we'll force them to add us to the main event. You're dead meat. So, Larry, I look forward to meeting you again. I look forward to watching you walk down that ramp one last time, smug look plastered on your face, and I look forward to beating you senseless in the middle of the ring, one, two, three.

The. End.

Aleister picks up the UWF Undisputed Championship, before throwing it on the floor. He then takes a match out of a matchbook, dropping it onto the floor next to the title and walking away with WALTER. It bursts into flames unexpectedly, no gasoline or anything. The camera moves down to show this, when something strange starts happening. The ashes of the UWF Championship begin to move and form and contort themselves into some sort of card shape. Finally, the full card is made, as the titantron shows one last image.

Death.



The image on the titantron then fades to the Sumerian Death Squad's logo, an 8-pointed star, for a moment before changing back to the standard Revolution graphic.




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 folks, we’re just five nights away from the Royal Rumble.

Tom Phillips: One of the biggest nights of the year, but tonight promises to be big as well as in our main event, we get a bit of a preview of the big match when Kevin Nash, Christian, Triple H, and The Miz compete in an Over the Top Rope Battle Royal.

Corey Graves: Plus, in a clash of fiercesome personalities, Minoru Suzuki takes on Tommaso Ciampa.

Tom Phillips: And in our opening contest, it’s an intergender contest as Chris Jericho takes on Kris Wolf.

Instead of heading to the ring for introductions, things cut to a live feed from the parking lot. Members of the press are gathered behind red ropes, as are some fans who are (for whatever reason) outside and wondering what the fuss is about. Soon enough, a caravan of limousines rolls up - three of them. The first stops outside the entrance of the building. Photographers lean in the snap some shots, but are held back by security, there to make sure they don't get too close. The driver (Puder) rushes around and opens the door, and who steps out if not the Triple Champ himself, Larry Sweeney. He's dressed in a fancy jacket as ever, but his nWo t-shirt is clearly visible with the buttons undone. Larry steps out of the car, looks around and smiles for the cameras. Even outside, the boos from the fans already seated can be heard, but he looks to be in too high of spirits to care.


Kyle O'Reilly, also sporting black-and-white, exits the limo to join Sweeney outside the entrance. His demeanor is anything but cheerful. The Diabetic Dragon looks like he has an ax to grind, a bone to pick, and an insulin shot to take. Their car quickly drives away while the next in line pulls up.


In a somewhat beat up truck rides into the parking lot. Some poor schlub is driving it, seeming as nervous as a reck as ever to not damage it anymore then it is. Edge and Christian steps out next, looking as casual as ever as he stands behind Sweeney and O’Reily. Edge sports on him a real nifty pair of sunglasses, with the usual t-shirt and jeans combo. Christian however wearing a nice dress shirt, adjusting his collar and nodding at Sweeney before looking into the driver’s window.

Christian: Hey! Don’t get any bumps in this thing, it’ll be your ass on the bumper if I see so much as a dent!

He smacks the roof of it, as the driver drifts over, leaving him and Edge to make some room for the next ride in. The next car to pull up is a stretch Hummer. One of the door’s on the side of the camera’s view opens up as Eric Bischoff steps out and adjusts his leather jacket over his nWo t-shirt. Rude follows him, adjusting his suit, complete with nWo tie. The main back door opens as Scott Hall kicks his legs out and steps outside. Kevin Nash pokes his head out of the sunroof and peers around.

Nash: This isn’t the bar!

Nash climbs outside of the hummer and shuts the door behind him.

Hall: Looks like the party beat us here, Kev.
Nash: Aw man! I left the t-shirts at the hotel. There’s what, like 50 people here? We could sell em for like 5 bucks each and get a Miz payday!

Once they’re all joined together, they each take turns giving the Wolfpack salute. One of the fans yells out “you suck” as they’re all gathered.

Rude: Yeah, your momma sucks kid!

Now all present and accounted for, the nWo strolls right on past the press and into the building like they own the place. The small crowd gathered is going nuts. Nash turns to face them as he is the last to enter the building.

Nash: Follow us on twitter!

Things now head elsewhere. Dr Cube is sitting in a chair with an envelope. He is facing the camera.

Dr Cube: Good Evening, future servants of Dr. Cube. Ever since my appearance in the UWF all but a month ago. Something has come to my attention. With the crushing of resistance, I will need to have a fuller army. So allow me to introduce this... Something vital and important to the dr. Cube process.

He opens up the envelope and takes out a flyer.

Dr Cube: THIS right here is a binding document pledging your undying loyalty to SCIENCE, CUBE, and EVIL as written by the evilest force in the world AN ARMY OF LAWYERS. Tired of your same old NWO? Weary of the World Warriors? Well become a Dr Cube minion and under my watchful eye, we can rule the world! And it all begins at the rumble, let those stables fight, let that Drunkard be more concerned about some old men who belong in retirement homes! By the time he pays attention to the greater threat, he will be unable to comprehend it, and isn't it just beautiful how all of you at home despite your screeching can do nothing but watch. Well it looks like you all have options.

He holds up the flyer.

Dr. Cube: Surrender to me and have some modicum of free will. or...

The camera pans down to reveal a twitching body his face bandaged up. Dr cube stands up and takes out a scalpel and kneels next to it.



Dr. Cube: There are other uses for unwilling minions.

The Camera fades out with his sick and twisted laughter mixed with the muffled screams of agony as things head to the ring.

DING DING!

Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...



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.

Tony Chimel: And the opponent...



Kris Wolf runs out high-fiving everyone on her way to the ring.

Tony Chimel: From Chicago, Illinois. Weighing in at one hundred and twelve pounds. Kris Wolf!

Kris enters the ring and rebounds on the ropes a couple of times before sliding on both of her knees.

DING DING!

As the ring bell sounds, Jericho hits the mat and rolls under the bottom rope out of the ring as he heads over to Tony Chimel and grabs his microphone from him.

Chris Jericho: Marshmallow! You don’t know what music is! I’m the rock star here! I’m the...

Jericho sits down cross legged on the floor now.

Look, I’m Aleister Black!

Jericho stands up and puts one hand on the back of his head as he starts to sway his hips.

I’m Rick Rude!

Jericho stops and jogs over to a fan that has sunglasses on their shirt, one part tucked into the collar and grabs them, putting them on. He heads over to another fan with a replica belt and grabs it as he slings it over his shoulder and slides into the ring and stands up.

Now I’m Larry Sweeney! You want a shot at the Transatla....uh....Interspecies....Ciampa Ship Title? Do you?

Jericho holds out the title to a confused Kris Wolf who reaches out to grab the belt but Chris flings it like a frisbee into the crowd. Kris looks even more confused as Chris removes his sunglasses and puts them on her then jumps up like he would for a Codebreaker but doesn’t grab Kris so he just takes a back bump. He sits up immediately and takes the microphone he’s still holding and puts it top part down and spins it like a top.

Tom Phillips: What in God’s name is going on here?

Corey Graves: Maybe he doesn’t want to hit a girl? Honestly I’ve got nothin’.

Kris has seen enough of Jericho’s antics as she kicks him in the face and he falls back hard, the back of his head banging against the mat. Kris covers him.

ONE!


TWO!


THR...NO!

Jericho gets the shoulder up at the last second as a frustrated Kris creates some distance. Chris gets up and signals that he wants to lock up in a test of strength. Reluctantly, Kris obliges as they lock hands as Chris easily overpowers her and takes control of the situation but now begins to dance with her.

Tom Phillips: I’ve seen it all now.

Corey Graves: I’m sure it’s all mind games, just like his strange behavior earlier this week, and the vow of silence he took before that.

As Jericho stops suddenly and lets her go, Kris slaps him across the face. Chris snaps back, looking at her angrily and it seems that his antics are done but then he slowly turns his head in the other direction and invites her to slap him on the other side. Kris obliges and Chris snaps back around again, looking angrier than before as he hauls off and punches her in the mouth, a silence falling over the arena as Kris hits the mat.

Jericho looks at his fist for a moment, looking shocked at what he’s done, then runs over to the ropes and springs off of them, going for a Lionsault but Kris gets the knees up as Chris staggers back into the ropes opposite of where he just attempted the move, holding his midsection in pain. Kris gets up as Chris stops holding his midsection and charges her.

As he takes a swing, she sidesteps and lunges after his straightened arm, seizing the inner forearm with her mouth as Chris is soon crying out in pain.

Tom Phillips: Look out, Chris! This Wolf is hungry!

Corey Graves: You’re hands down the worst Tom in show business.

Chris punches her in the back of the head with his free hand to release her grip as he palms her face with the other hand and pushes at the same time he sweeps the leg as she hits the mat with brutal force. Chris looks at his arm and the teeth marks are quite visible as little drops of blood drip from various parts onto the mat below.

While Chris is looking at his arm, Kris is up as she runs over and leaps up, drawing her legs in towards herself and extending them quickly to kick him in the chest as he’s sent backward into the ropes. As Chris comes off the ropes, Kris runs towards him and hits her opponent with a Switchblade.

Tom Phillips: Kris Wolf is taking it to the former UWF Champion here!

Corey Graves: Seriously. I’d rather listen to Tom Cruise talk about Scientology than hear you commentate.

As both competitors are up, they run after each other again and Kris connects with another Switchblade. As both get up this time, Kris leaps towards him and kicks him like she did earlier as Chris is knocked backward into the corner. Kris charges toward him again and leaps up, aiming her knees at his head but Chris ducks to avoid it but she manages to save herself and perch on the top rope.

Tom Phillips: Well I guess she’s a bit cat-like too.

Corey Graves: I’d rather be berated by Tommy Lee Jones than be subjected to you calling the action!

As Chris turns around, Kris leaps off at him but as she comes down, he leaps up and catches her, turning the situation in his favor as they both hit the mat and he connects with a Codebreaker!

Tom Phillips: I’d call that one a...

Corey Graves: Tom Kenny could sit next to me and do the Spongebob laugh for the duration of the entire broadcast and it would be far less annoying than hearing you verbally defecate on this craft!

Tom Phillips: Krisbreaker.

As Graves can be heard banging his fist on the commentary table, Jericho covers his opponent.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

DING DING DING!

Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Chris Jericho!

Chris grabs Kris by the wrists and pulls her to her feet. He grabs one hand with both of his and starts shaking it, moving his arms up and down exaggeratedly. ”It was an honor, Asuka!” he shouts before letting go as she falls back to the mat. Chris exits the ring and starts heading up the ramp as Revolution heads elsewhere.

The scene opens on inside of a locker room in the arena, a knock on the door which gives no answer leads into it quickly opening, with The Miz walking in, already in his ring gear. Sitting inside is not the man who he was expecting, however, as it is El Desperado sitting down, foot up on a bench and strumming his guitar, playing some song.

Miz: “Hey, mind if I ask where your boss is? I wanted to talk to him about the Royal Rumble coming up, had an offer for him.”

Desperado continues playing, he doesn’t seem to care about Miz who opens his mouth to maybe ask him again but Despy just raises his hand, stops strumming, puts his guitar down, and looks up towards Miz.



Despy: “Oh no no no, mi amigo, if you want to approach the boss you have to go through me first, entender? ”

Miz doesn’t know Spanish, neither does Despy but he’s acting like he does, Miz just rolls his eyes

Miz: “Well, I was wanting to...work with him, during the Rumble match. Just to toss out the people in the nWo and Sweet ‘n’ Sour Inc, anyways. Y’know, a temporary alliance type deal?”

Despy chuckles, he fully stands up and gets right into Miz’s face, Miz is way bigger than him but Despy doesn’t care

Despy:“ You? Teaming up with the boss? Pff, you should try a career as a comedian too, the boss doesn’t need you to handle the nWo or Sweet N Sour Inc or whichever stable is playing around when he enters the rumble, he’ll destroy them on his own, and if you don’t want to have the same faith happen to you I suggest you walk away and rethink about your Rumble participation.”

Despy sits back down and picks up his guitar, and continues strumming  to some unknown song

Miz: “...You know what? Fine, I have other people who I can go talk to then, if you think Suzuki is able to just take them out by themselves. I’m not doubting that he is a fantastic fighter, but when he’s tossed out because of the numbers game, don’t be looking at me for not helping.”

Miz starts to leave, closing the locker room door behind him with the camera following. He quickly pulls out a list of names of people on Revolution, with multiple names already being crossed out. He takes a pen, and then crosses out Suzuki’s name, and looks down a few more names.

Miz: “Alright...guess it is on to the next one.”

As Miz moves on, the camera also moves on elsewhere…

Again, the titantron switches up to show the live crowd and viewers at home a feed from the backstage area hallway. The scene is a familiar one - crates and boxes lining the walls while the crew and staffers rushes around to keep the massive operation running smoothly. One such nameless employee is rushing forward, his head buried in some notes on his clipboard. He fails to see the mob approaching from the other direction. Its the nWo. He bounces off of Kevin Nash and falls on to the ground. Mortified, he looks up and tries to apologize when he realizes his situation. Before he can get a word out, Kyle O'Reilly pie faces him and shoves him into a stack of boxes. The poor soul is lost in the collapsing heap of materials. The boys just chuckle it off while Bischoff clears a lane ahead. The clicking of high heels can be heard as Renee Young rushes up to them with a microphone in hand.

Renee: Guys! Guys! Can I get a few questions answered?
Scott Hall stops and notices Renee. He elbows Nash and Rude, the rest of the nWo stop for a second. Nash steps up to Renee.

Nash: I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, toots...but the nWo is a well-oiled machine that can’t be stopped. We’ve got places to be. You can tell your story walkin’, sister.

Rude: You want this interview, sweetheart? You’re going to work for it. As much as I’d like to stop here with you for a…..refresher….there’s work to be done.

They continue walking down the hall as Renee struggles to keep up.

Renee: Well, Rick...you seem to be in a talkative mood...What can you tell me about you showing up on Resistance? Were you just making a statement to Scott Steiner?

Rude: Sweetheart, let me enlighten you on a little something. The nWo does what it wants, when it wants, and where it wants. We listen to no one. If we want to go to Resistance and tear the place up, we’ll go do it. If we want to take a right up here and head over to catering and clear out the room so that we can have a nice, quiet dinner all to ourselves...we will. And if I want to put the Genetic Pipsqueak on notice, I’ll do as I damn well please. Does that answer your question?

Renee: Ok, ok...what about the news of Drake Maverick becoming the General Manager of Revolution? Stone Cold may not be the head honcho, but he still holds power here on Revolution. Don’t you think that he’s going to try and put a stop to you?

Every single member of the nWo stop dead in their tracks. They look amongst each other in a brief silence before bursting out laughing. Nash has to hold himself up on the wall for support he is laughing so hard. Scott Hall wipes tears from his eyes.

Nash: Sweetcheeks...I’ve got dental floss that’s more intimidating than Drake Maverick.

Nash guffaws and they continue walking. Renee rolls her eyes and follows after them yet again.

Renee: Ok, fine. How about you Larry? Any thoughts on Kenny Omega showing up on Revolution and holding his own against several of you?

Before Renee can swing the mic over towards the REAL champion of the UWF, Edge takes the arm of Renee gently and brings the mic to his mouth.

Edge: Renee, look, we know you’re doing your job but uh, do it better. What kind of stupid question is that? That’s 7 on 1, maybe 2 if Stone Cold decides to wake up from his hangover snooze. The champ here’s time is precious, we don’t need to answer questions that already have answers.

Renee begins to say something, but Edge begins mocking her, leaving her no room to talk before Edge takes the mic forcefully and chucks it somewhere! He cackles with the rest of the nWo. Kyle O’Reilly does the sike-out lunge at Renee as they walk away, but she totally no-sells it. The boys carry on down the hall while Revolution continues elsewhere.

DING DING!

Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...

]

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!

Tony Chimel: And the opponent...

the lights blackout and smoke starts coming out from the ramp as the signature guitar sound of El Desperado starts playing and the crowd went ballistic on him



He walks out of the curtain playing his guitar and carrying his boss's UFC world heavyweight championship pretending to not be hearing the roaring fans booing him





As Despy is halfway to the ring the song switches to the graceful sound of Minoru Suzuki's signature song



The crowd turns silent as Suzuki comes blazing through the curtain, his eyes dead set on the ring



While Suzuki walks down the ramp El Desperado snatches Tony Chimel's mic out of his hand and introduces Suzuki himself... in Spanish and only then in English

Presentando ... de Yokohama, Japón, el actual campeón de peso pesado de UFC del mundo y el hombre más malo del planeta ... Minoruuu Suzuki!!!

Desperado throws the mic back to Tony Chimel so he could properly introduce him while he plays his guitar, walking away

Introducing... From Yokohama, Japan, standing at 5'10 feet and weighing in at 225 pounds... the current UFC heavyweight champion and the baddest man on the planet... Minoru SuuuuzukiIiii!!!

He finally finishes the long ramp walk and without missing a beat, he bypasses the ring in front of him and walks to the other side, there, he gets on the apron and turns around to the crowd, clapping his hands and telling them to clap their own as a sort of insult to them.

 "

He turns around and enters the ring between the middle and top rope while The ringside choir screams:

KAZE NI NARE!!!!

Now that he's in the ring he takes off his towel, gives it to El Desperado who's waiting on the apron, they fist bump and Desperado jumps off the apron and Suzuki starts stretching, waiting for the bell to ring

DING DING!

The two powerful wrestlers stare off in the ring. Ciampa steps forward, declaring “This is my UWF, you’re just in it.” Suzuki then rushes over and locks up with Ciampa to get this match underway. Suzuki transitions him over into a headlock by jumping up on Ciampa and whipping him down to the mat.

Tom Phillips: “Underway here on Resistance, the two powerful forces of Minoru Suzuki and Tommaso Ciampa.”

Ciampa pulls Suzuki back and then locks him in the headscissors and tightens in. Suzuki then walks around and gets his head to bridge up on his neck. Suzuki then pulls his leg out and runs back to the ropes and boots Ciampa right in the mouth. Suzuki then jumps over onto Ciampa for the cover.

On-

Before the referee can get to one Ciampa kicks out of the fall. Ciampa then rolls under the bottom rope and Suzuki quickly jogs over to him. Ciampa grasps tightly onto the bottom rope and Suzuki looks down confused at him. Suzuki then slightly pushes at his body and which only nudges Ciampa slightly.

Ciampa then rolls off into the ring, and pushes on the back of the knees of Suzuki to collapse him down to the ground. Ciampa then goes to the side of Suzuki and bridges over, locking in the Fujiwara Armbar on Suzuki!

Corey Graves: “A very dangerous move this early in the match could spell disaster for Suzuki right here guys, Ciampa might have this one in the bag.”

Suzuki quickly scampers over to the ropes to free himself from this devastating hold from Ciampa. Ciampa continues to wrench after the break, angering Minoru Suzuki. Ciampa lets go but as soon as he does this, Suzuki gets back up to his feet.

Suzuki meets Ciampa up on his feet and then meets him with a massive slap across the face of Ciampa, trying to slap some sense into Ciampa. Suzuki then snapmares Ciampa down to the mat and boots him straight across his back. Suzuki then pushes him back into the mat and hooks the leg to cover him.

One…

Ciampa kicks out at one from that pinfall attempt by Suzuki. Suzuki then leads Ciampa over to the corner and then smashes him into it. He then pushes Ciampa’s head back and strikes, landing a huge chop on the chest of Suzuki.

Corey Graves: “That one really echoed around the arena, lord have mercy on Ciampa’s chest… that is if god can stop Suzuki.”

Suzuki then leans Ciampa back once more, and strikes through the air, landing another huge chop to the chest of Ciampa. Suzuki then laughs slightly in the pain that he’s inflicting on Ciampa, but he’s interrupted by Ciampa pushing him back by his chest.

Suzuki looks offended at Ciampa who would do such a thing to him, but Ciampa begs for another. Suzuki leans Ciampa back once more and delivers a third devastating chop harder than both of the previous two combined.

Tom Phillips: “Uh Corey, I think Ciampa is talking a bigger game than he can play… unless if this is just mind games.”

Ciampa then delivers one slap to the side of the side of Suzuki’s face, and then another, and then another and then a jumping high knee knocking Suzuki back down to the mat below. Suzuki then falls over Suzuki for the cover on that devastating combination he just landed on Suzuki.

Corey Graves: “I do believe he calls that little combination of strikes the Sicilian Barrage, dating back to his origin.”

One…

Tw-

Suzuki kicks out just before two and Ciampa can’t believe that combination he’s done hasn’t put him away for longer. He sits up and then drags Suzuki by his leg to the corner. Ciampa heads up to the second rope and jumps off, hitting a diving knee on Suzuki. He then heads over to the opposite corner and waits.

He then waves his hand up, signalling for Suzuki to get back up to his feet, he then sees Suzuki slowly getting back up, so he runs over to the other side of the ring and hits a devastating knee trembler on him. He falls over Suzuki for the cover.

One…

Two...

Suzuki kicks out at two from that pinfall attempt from Ciampa. Ciampa thuds his hands down on the mat and looks around the arena. He then heads up to his feet and looks down upon Suzuki. He then yells “finish” and slinks Suzuki through his legs.

Corey Graves: “This one might be all over for Minoru Suzuki right here. Project Ci-.”

Suzuki slides through and shoots the leg of Ciampa and captures it into a heel hook. He wrenches deep in, but Ciampa slowly scrapes to escape this excruciating pain. Ciampa slowly shifts over to the ropes, one stretch at a time.

This only makes Suzuki’s grasp stronger of his legs, causing more pain for Ciampa. After too long, Ciampa grasps the bottom rope with both hands. Suzuki immediately releases from Ciampa as he does this, but Ciampa lashes back at Suzuki with a boot laying him down on the mat.

Ciampa rolls to the outside to get a breather. He clutches onto his suffering leg and then grabs Suzuki by the leg and takes him out to the outside. Suzuki crashes onto the ring mats on the outside and Ciampa grabs Suzuki by the arm leading him over to the ring post.

Corey Graves: “Why does Ciampa keep on doing this, it only worked once on a non responsive Jay White! A technical wizard like Suzuki surely knows this.”

Ciampa rests the head of Suzuki on the post, and then takes a few steps back and lines up the target for the head resting on the ring post. Ciampa runs towards the post with the knee but misses completely and sends his knee straight into the ring post. Ciampa falls down in agony clutching onto his whole leg.

Tom Phillips: “Ciampa isn’t doing himself any favours, first off he gets himself into that heel hook, now he’s got a hefty knee damagery to follow that one up.”

Corey Graves: “Probably not intentionally though Tom.”

1!

While Ciampa is left out on the outside, Suzuki slowly crawls away from him, and around to the apron. Ciampa wacks his knee a few times and begins to stretch it out a little to see that it still moves fine.

2!

Ciampa gets up, on mainly one leg. He then hops slowly around the ring, and he rolls himself into the ring. Suzuki lays out on the apron and Ciampa still sees this as a prime picking for an attack. He heads over and then looks down at Minoru Suzuki laying there defenceless on the apron.

Ciampa then goes to grab Suzuki by the back of the head, but suddenly Suzuki springs at him and pulls his head down into a Triangle Choke! He then does a headstand on the apron to add more pressure on this and the referee begins his disqualification warning.

One!
Two!
Three!

Suzuki lets go of this hold and Ciampa bumps back into the ring after all of this punishment has been dealt out to him. Suzuki smiles on the apron and begins to laugh mechanically, he then pats himself on the back, mocking Ciampa.

Suzuki then rolls back into the ring to grab Ciampa up by his beard. He then whips him over to the ropes, but on the rebound Ciampa slaps him straight in the face. Ciampa whips Suzuki over to the corner, and then runs up over to the other side and hits a jumping knee on him.

He then runs over to the ropes and crashes into him with a big elbow knocking him down to a seated position. Ciampa then takes down his knee pad and runs over to the same ropes once more and rebounds with a huge knee. He immediately clutches this knee, as it’s on his bad leg.

Corey Graves: "That bad knee could cost him here tonight."

Ciampa then lifts Suzuki through his legs and places him up in a powerbomb position. His knee then buckles out and the two collapse down to the ground, with Suzuki landing on top of Ciampa. The referee still counts this regardless.

One…

Two…

Ciampa hits his arm up causing a kick out. Suzuki then heads up to a stable base, and puts Ciampa through his legs, and underhooks the leg, and lifts him up! And drops him down with the Gotch Style Piledriver. Suzuki then hooks the leg on Ciampa.

One…

Two…

Three!

DING! DING!



Tony Chimel: “Here is your winner via pinfall, Minoru Suzuki!”

Suzuki stands with his hand raised by the referee and in the middle of the ring. He then stands still, looking menacing into the camera as Revolution continues.

Miz: “I’d rather not think about that, Renee...but to answer you...I’m not entirely sure myself. I mean, I’d love to still compete at Wrestlemania, I’m sure that everyone in the UWF would love to, but what would I do? Go after the Intercontinental Championship again? A full year would have passed and all that I’d have to show for it is going in a circle, and getting right back to where I was previously. No, I’d need something different...something new, something challenging to do…you know what? I’ll get back to you on that one Renee, for now though, I have to focus on the present, so I better be on my way, and back to my training.”

The scene opens on the final words spoken during The Miz’s interview last week playing over a computer, the screen fully focused on last week’s Revolution. Without missing a beat, the laptop is shut, a clicking sound made once it was fully closed down, and we see nearly plain-as-day The Miz standing up from the chair.

Miz: “Something different...something new? What can be new for me? I’ve won the Intercontinental Championship, I fought for the Television Championship...and I’m not lowering myself to the Prime Time Championship, especially after where I have been and who I have beaten…..so what happens? If I lose, what am I going to do? Run off to Arrow and leave behind my passion, make it yet another time where I just skip out on Wrestlemania? Go to the tag division with Jericho? That’s a good idea on paper, but with how Chris has acted these past few months...how can I actually rely on him?”

A door opens just to the left of Miz, and the camera shot is zoomed out and pans over to the left just a touch to show that Maryse is walking in. She takes a few steps into the room before stopping, resting her arm on the fireplace just as Miz turns around to see her.



Maryse: “Mike, what are you worrying about now?”

Miz: “The usual stuff, I guess? You should know by now what’s on my mind most of the time.”

Maryse: “More talking to yourself about what happens next?”

Miz: “Exactly. I’m just not really-”

Maryse: “Every time. Every time you are in a big match, Mike, you do the same thing. You worry your head off! It happened back at Judgement Day last year, it happened at Wrestlemania, it happened at Summerslam, Survivor Series, Genesis, Insurrextion...over and over again.”

Miz: “I can’t really help it, that’s just...a natural reaction for me. I worry.”

Miz shrugs his shoulders for some further emphasis.

Maryse: “But doesn’t it get tiring? To always be thinking about what comes next, to always think ‘what happens if X, Y, or Z happens’?”

Miz: “I mean, it is, but what else am I supposed to do? Just stop worrying and hope that when life is coming towards me that it all works out?”

Maryse: “That may not be a bad thing every once in a while, Mike. Come on, I got something to talk to you about.”

Miz raises an eyebrow at this, watching as Maryse leaves the room. After a few seconds, he follows suit, being led into their living room area.

Miz: “Okay, what is this all about?”

Maryse: “Well, it’s just that the dogs have been missing you for a while-”

Miz: “That’s it? The dogs missing me? That is what you wanted me for?”

Maryse: “AND I thought it would be a good idea for you to play with them for a while instead of being so worried about whatever it is that’s coming up.”

Miz: “The Royal Rumble-”

Maryse: “As I said, Mike, WHATEVER it is that is coming up.”

Miz: “But...what if I want to be worried about this? I mean, this, this is my chance!”

Maryse: “And you said the same thing at Judgement Day, and at Wrestlemania-”

Miz: “Yeah I know but this is IT! Regardless of success or failure last time, there was always a catch, always some sort of tagalong that told people ‘hey, this is how Miz won’ or ‘For those who care, this is how Miz lost’ but this time, there isn’t a way for that to happen this time!”

Maryse: “Mike, there is always a way for that to happen. That’s why I am trying to get you to stop worrying constantly. Besides, it’s bad for your health.”

Miz: “Really? Come on, Maryse, I like that you’re trying to help me here but this is something that matters to me a lot, obviously.”

Maryse: “I am serious, Mike, if you keep worrying, then by the time that Rumble actually comes around, your health is going to suffer.”

After a few moments of Maryse pouting towards Miz, he finally seems to relent and step forward.

Miz: “Okay, okay, you win honey, I’ll go see the do-”

Before he can even finish the sentence, Miz is absolutely bombarded as their 3 dogs rush him, one of them jumping up and nearly knocking him right over, to the point that he has to back up and fall down onto the couch. Soon the other two are on him as well, all seeming to have the time of their lives.



After about another minute of this, Miz finally tries to sit himself up, his legs still being pinned down by the sudden weight put on it from the three dogs. He is laughing at this all, though, a smile firmly planted on his face.

Miz: “Alright, alright enough. We’re going for a walk, Maryse I’m probably going to need help with these-”

Maryse: “Already covered, here-”

Maryse hands him two of the leashes, as she is taking one of the dogs off of him and fixing their collar. After some fumbling around, Miz manages to slip on the other two’s collars, and soon enough they are all off of him, excited to be going out. The smile shrinks down in size, but gains some warmth to it as Miz turns to Maryse, the two leaving the house alongside their dogs.

DING DING!

Tony Chimel: The following contest is an Over the Top Rope Battle Royal! Once you are thrown over the top rope and both feet hit the floor, you are eliminated! Introducing first...

HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!



As the sitar gives way to the driving guitar and bass of Metallica's "Wherever I May Roam," the man who has taken it as a theme roams out onto the stage. In ring gear, sporting a wild beard and a wilder expression, Triple H makes his way down the ramp to the ring.

Tony Chimel: From Greenwich, Connecticut. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty-five pounds. Triiiiiple...H!

Foregoing his usual theatrics, he jogs up the steps, walks along the apron, scrapes his boots and enters, then climbs up top to work up the crowd and hype himself up.



When he's finished with that, Hunter climbs down from the top rope and gets ready for the match ahead.

Tony Chimel: And the next participant...

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: Introducing the third competitor...

"n-W-o 4-4-4-4 LYFE!"



The nWo's theme hits and the crowd turn sour for whichever member comes out. After weeks of bamboozling and messing about, Sweet 'n' Sour Inc. and the nWo have been causing a stir as of late. The crowd only turn worse, as it's NOT Christian, but "The Rated R Superstar" Edge!

Tony Chimel: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 241 pounds, representing the New World Order, he is the, “Rated R Superstar” Edge!

Edge tugs on his shirt cockily, showing it off, as he makes his way to the ring and slides into it. As he gets to his feet, he gestures to the ramp.

Tony Chimel: And last but not least...

"n-W-o 4-4-4-4 LYFE!"



As the theme begins playing again, the crowd is booing just as furiously as they are soon joined by, “Big Sexy” Kevin Nash. Nash throws his fist high up above his head.  He holds the pose for a second before flipping his hair back and walking down the ramp.



Tony Chimel: From Scottsdale, Arizona. Weighing in at three hundred and twenty-eight pounds. Representing the New World Order. "Big Sexy" Kevin Nash!

Nash enters the ring by stepping over the top rope.  He rushes towards the ropes, bouncing off of them he holds up the Wolfpac sign.



DING DING!

As the ring bell sounds, Triple H and Miz come charging across the ring at Nash and Edge. As Edge and Nash go to charge at them, Nash suddenly goes down. Immediately Triple H and Miz stop and look at each other as Edge looks concerned and rushes to check on Nash, who’s clutching his leg with both hands and wincing in pain.

Trips and Miz aren’t falling for this as the King decks Edge with a punch to knock him down and Miz goes to stomp on Nash’s leg but the referee stops him, shaking his head. Miz backs off, much to his own chagrin, as the referee throws his arms up above his head and makes an, ‘X’.

Tom Phillips: Ha! I wonder if it’s his quad!

Corey Graves: Can you not, Phillips? That’s a human being in there that’s injured!

As medical staff comes running down the ramp, some enter the ring as others are guiding a medical backboard into it. Several of the staff, as well as Edge, are helping the big man onto it as Triple H and Miz are standing there with their hands on their hips. Miz shakes his head in disbelief as he goes to attack Nash but Triple H puts his arm out and holds him back.

Miz shoots him a look but Trips returns a stern look of his own as Miz backs off and crosses his arms, continuing to watch what’s unfolding. Triple H actually goes over to help hold open the ropes as they’re guiding Nash through to the medical staff on the other side so that they can put him on a gurney.

As they put Nash on the gurney, he makes the, “Too Sweet” gesture to one of the medical staff as they do the, “Two Sweet” gesture in return. The crowd reacts to this audibly as Edge turns from where he’s standing on the apron and hits Triple H with a Spear, taking him to the mat.

Tom Phillips: Oh, damnit!

Corey Graves: Damnit, what? I think the NWO is blessed to have their own doctors. You can’t trust the staff Stone Cold has on file, they probably got their doctorate in a cereal box!

Tom Phillips: Nash isn’t even hurt!

Corey Graves: Now he’s not, and that’s all thanks to the top notch medical personnel they’ve got on the payroll. Kevin’s good as new. Look!

Nash sits up and moves so that his legs are hanging over the side as he stands up. As his legs tremble, he’s helped by several of the medical staff as he takes a few steps, the trembling decreasing with each one. Soon the staff let him go and he’s able to walk on his own as he gives Edge a thumbs up, who gives him a thumbs up as well.

Miz looks furious as he goes after the distracted Edge and kicks him in the stomach, hooking his head and planting him with a sickening DDT. As he gets up, Nash is on the apron as he goes after him but Edge grabs his leg and trips him up. As Miz staggers forward into Nash, Big Sexy connects with a headbutt that sends him staggering in the other direction.

Triple H catches Miz to stop him from staggering but as the, “A-Lister” is regaining his wits, Nash steps over the top rope with both legs and starts in their direction. Edge begins a pursuit as well but suddenly, Triple H puts up one finger and tells them to hold on. Both men oblige as to their surprise, Trips turns to Miz and puts his head between his legs, locking both arms around his waist as he hoists the must-see superstar up and delivers the King’s Justice!

Tom Phillips: What is he doing?

Corey Graves: Honestly, Tom, your guess is as good as mine on this one.

Triple H picks Miz up soon after impact, holding the back of his neck with one hand and the back of his tights with the other as he guides him toward the ropes and throws him over the top. He now turns to Nash and Edge, dusting his hands off, then points to Edge’s shirt before pointing back at himself.

Tom Phillips: I don’t believe it! He’s had a change of heart!

Corey Graves: I knew he was smarter than he looked!

Nash smiles and looks at Edge who has just as big a smile plastered on his face as he removes the NWO shirt he’s wearing, revealing another NWO shirt underneath, as he tosses it over to Trips and King Nothing puts it on quickly. Triple H and Nash both put their hands up and meet with a double high five as Trips turns and he and Edge double high five.

Seeing cause to celebrate, Edge heads to the nearest corner and ascends it, throwing up the devil horns on both hands as Nash and Triple H both form the, “Too Sweet” with their hands and start bringing them together. Right before they meet though, Triple H stops and Nash looks confused. Soon all is clear though as Trips draws his hand away and gestures towards his groin with a crotch chop as the crowd cheers.

Tom Phillips: Triple H with some mind games of his own!

Corey Graves: Way to squander a great opportunity!

Nash angrily goes after the man he thought was his friend but as he does, Triple H hoists him up and turns, planting him with a spinebuster. The sound of Nash hitting the mat gets Edge’s attention as he turns to see what’s going on but as he does, Triple H removes the shirt and balls it up, throwing it at his face.

Edge catches it but while he’s focused on that, the King takes advantage of the distraction and runs over to the corner, grabbing his ankles and pulling back as the, “Rated R Superstar” hits the turnbuckle face first and takes an ugly spill to the mat. Triple H looks over to where he threw Miz out of the ring as Miz has his feet planted against the side of the ring and is gripping the bottom rope.

He manages to pull himself up and grab the middle rope with one hand, then grabs it with the other as he climbs up onto the apron and re-enters the ring through the ropes. The crowd cheers as the two men nod at one another.

Tom Phillips: The ruse runs deeper than we thought! Triple H never eliminated Miz, they just made it look that way!

Corey Graves: They’re going to pay for this, mark my words!

Edge is grabbing the middle rope and gradually climbing to his feet when Miz brings his leg up to kick the, “Ultimate Opportunist” in the ribs as Triple H picks up the t-shirt and walks up behind Edge, holding a side of it with each hand as he throws it over Edge’s head and pulls back once it’s in front of his throat.

Triple H arches back, causing Edge to kick at the air, as Miz walks over and grabs his legs, draping them over his shoulders as Trips releases the shirt and Miz hoists Edge up, hitting him with a powerbomb onto Nash! As Edge rolls off of, “Big Sexy”, Miz follows and grabs him in a full nelson, pulling him forcefully to his feet but as he gets him there, Edge throws one of his legs back, kicking Miz as he’s going for the sweep.

As Miz flinches, Edge reaches back and grabs the back of his head with both hands as he rocks forward and manages to throw him at Triple H as Miz lands awkwardly on the mat and the King is in the ropes. Edge goes for a clothesline to take the, “Cerebral Assassin” out of the match but Trips sidesteps out of the way, causing Edge to miss and get hung up on the top rope, halfway in the ring and halfway out of it as H grabs his lower body and tries to force him out.

Tom Phillips: Edge is in a bad way right now!

Corey Graves: And you’re loving every minute of it! Don’t pretend you aren’t!

Miz gets up and heads to the other side of Edge and now each man has a hand on his leg and a hand on his upper body as Edge is desperately holding on to the rope with his hands. Soon Nash comes running over and clubs both Miz and Trips in the back of the head simultaneously then grabs each of them by the back of the neck and lead them away from Edge as he’s able to rock back and return to his feet.

Nash shoves Miz in Edge’s direction as Edge takes him down with a Spear and then, with his hand still on the back of his neck, turns Triple H and clobbers him in the nose with a punch, then pushes forward with the other hand and hooks his head underneath his arm, hoisting him straight up and walking over to the ropes, throwing him forward so that he lands stomach first on the ropes as Trips falls towards the outside of the ring but manages to grab the ropes to stay grounded on the apron.

Nash goes for a big boot but Trips throws himself up onto the rope so that his upper body takes the hit instead of his face and is able to turn while falling so that he’s on the mat.

Tom Phillips: Well if you’re going to get hit, you might as well do it in a way that lets you live and keep fighting.

Corey Graves: He should’ve taken the elimination. That’s the closest he’s going to come to mercy in there with the NWO.

Nash and Edge trade stomps on the downed, “Game” as Miz is getting to his feet holding his ribs. Edge now hooks his arm around Triple H’s head and starts guiding him to his feet as Nash gives the assist. Edge cockily bides his time as he turns to Nash and makes the, “Too Sweet” gesture with his free hand. Nash makes the same gesture and they go to touch hands but Miz sees an opening as he takes off running, stepping up onto Triple H for a moment as he brings his fists together over top of his head and hits the big man with a double axe handle!

Nash staggers into the ropes behind him as Miz ties up his right arm in them. As he goes to do the same to the left arm, Edge grabs him and looks to go for the Edge O’Matic but Triple H punches him in the kidney to make him let go and grabs him and hits him with a back body drop. Miz now ties up Nash’s other arm in the ropes as he begins lighting into the big man’s upper body with the It Kicks!

Tom Phillips: Vengeance, thy name is Miz!

Corey Graves: Now’s not the time to get Shakespearean!

Miz aims for the head now as he’s kicking Nash as hard as he can, the crowd chanting, “Miz!” with each one that connects. Edge is up to his feet as he goes to head after Miz again but Triple H grabs him and turns him around. As he does though, Edge spits in his eyes before taking him down with a clothesline. He then runs over and grabs Miz’s leg as he’s going for his next kick, pulling up and back so that Miz is dropped onto his face.

Edge helps untie Nash’s arm from the one of the ropes as Nash is able to get the other one free. Miz isn’t down for long though as he’s up in a three-point stance and charges at the midsection of the big man but Kevin isn’t budging. Nash punches Miz in both sides simultaneously in response and puts his head between his legs, grabbing him and hoisting him for the Jackknife Powerbomb.

As he gets Miz up though, the, “A-Lister” is raining down on him with punches as Triple H comes running over with a flying knee to Nash’s abdomen, sending the big man back towards the ropes as Miz slips free and is able to land on the apron. Triple H and Edge are trading punches as Miz turns Nash around and hooks his head, the crowd cheering him as he goes to lift him up for the suplex.

Tom Phillips: He is going for the impossible!

Corey Graves: Impossible’s right. Give up, Mizanin!

Triple H sees this out of the corner of his eye as he blocks Edge’s next punch and headbutts him, taking him to the mat with a clothesline of his own. Trips now grabs Nash’s leg with one hand and his other leg with the other hand as he starts helping Miz. As Nash is about halfway up, Edge runs over and clubs Trips in the upper back but this doesn’t deter him.

Edge winds back and hits him with another shot but it’s not stopping the King from helping. As Edge goes for a third shot, Triple H gives it his all as Nash clears the ropes and Miz is able to do the unthinkable and suplex him to the floor!

Tony Chimel: Kevin Nash has been eliminated!

Corey Graves: What about Miz?

It’s seen that Miz has landed in a way that his feet aren’t touching the ground as he has his knees curled towards his abdomen. He now raises up on his elbows slightly as he starts to scoot backward on them but the big man sits up and he doesn’t look happy.

Tom Phillips: How is he up already?

Nash gets up and leans down, using the positioning of Miz’s legs to easily scoop him up as he lifts him into Jackknife Powerbomb position. As he goes to drop him, he’s hit in the back suddenly, causing him to fall forward and allowing Miz to land on the ring apron as he can’t believe it and the crowd yells, “AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!” in response.

Edge goes after Miz but Triple H cuts him off as the two resume brawling as, on the outside of the ring, the person that attacked Nash is seen.

Tom Phillips: Aleister Black!

Corey Graves: What? Get that idiot out of here! He’s not in the match!

Black starts beating on Nash as he guides him up to his feet and continues laying into him with the rough shots. Nash returns a punch but as he goes for another one, WALTER is there to grab his hand. WALTER wallops Nash with a brutalizing chop as, “Big Sexy” winces and steps back against the ring post and when he does, he gets hit with a Black Mass!

Tom Phillips: I’d check that ring post for some of Kevin’s brain matter!

Corey Graves: Where are the NWO doctors? We need them badly!

As a bloodied Nash collapses to the floor, Edge comes through the ropes with a suicide dive but WALTER manages to catch him as he slings him into the ringside barricade. Edge is on his side, fear in his eyes as he reaches out to Nash but WALTER steps on his hand. Edge cries out in pain as WALTER removes his foot and Aleister connects with a Black Mass!

Tom Phillips: I’d check that barricade for...

Corey Graves: Yeah, yeah, for Edge’s brain matter. Shut up, Phillips!

As NSDS leave, in the ring Miz and Triple H look at one another as the crowd cheers the impending encounter. Triple H goes on the offensive first as he tags Miz in the moneymaker with a hard right. Miz returns the favor, landing a punch of his own on his opponent’s regal mug. Miz throws a left to the chest soon after that catches Trips off guard and connects with another right, thrown underhand, to the stomach.

Miz grabs the shoulders of the King and pulls him in at the same time he brings his leg upward, driving his knee directly into the veteran’s sternum. Miz now throws a kick to the side of Trips’ right leg as it buckles, the former reality star hooking the head and kicking his leg back before swinging it forward and following through with a vicious DDT that spikes the man with three H’s in a way that leaves him standing straight up on his head for a brief moment.

Tom Phillips: I’d check the mat for...

Corey Graves: Shut the hell up!

Miz kips up and throws his arms out to each side as he and the crowd say in unison, “AAAWWWEEESSSOOOMMMEEE!”. Triple H is up with one knee on the mat and the other foot planted, his arm rested on the middle rope as he’s trying to get a breather. As he gets to his feet, Miz barely lets him stay on them as he lunges in and hooks the full nelson, swinging his leg out in front and bringing it back to sweep the leg of the, “Game”, connecting with an impactful Skull Crushing Finale!

As Miz gets up, he brings Triple H with him as Triple H pops him in the mouth with a quick right and then sidesteps and grabs Miz by the back of the head, guiding him towards the corner and driving him face first into the turnbuckle pad. As he draws Miz’s head away after making impact, he turns him around and turns, leaning into him impactfully with the side of his knee. Miz dizzily falls forward as Trips straightens him back to a vertical base and pushes him, setting him on the top turnbuckle as he takes the necessary steps to ascend himself in order to stay steadied.

Soon Triple H is standing up as he puts Miz’s head between his legs and hooks him around the waist with his arms as the crowd gives an audible mixed reaction.

Tom Phillips: Don’t do it!

Corey Graves: I don’t like Miz but even I’ll say this is going too far!

Triple H hits the King’s Justice as there’s an audible gasp as Miz falls awkwardly to the outside floor and Triple H rolls backward and lands on his feet in the ring.

Tony Chimel: The Miz has been eliminated!

Triple H stands there for a moment and motions to the ringside official to ring the bell. The official shakes his head, letting him know he can’t and it’s at that moment that Edge slides into the ring and is now perched in the corner, hopping up and down with his arm in front of him, fingers wiggling and arm waving towards himself as he waits for Triple H to turn around.

Trips turns around and the, “Rated R Superstar” comes barreling out of the corner towards him but Triple H manages to land a kick that stops him as he puts Edge’s head between his legs, hoists him up, and quickly spikes him with a King’s Justice! Triple H gets up, the wear and tear of the match catching up to him, as he grabs a handful of Edge’s hair and pulls him to his knees.

Tom Phillips: Can “King Nothing” hand the NWO a loss in this one? Can he get that crucial Royal Rumble momentum?

Corey Graves: Absolutely not.

Triple H puts Edge’s head between his legs and gets the underhook on one arm. He takes a few seconds, visibly on his final reserves of energy, as he gets the underhook on the other arm. The crowd cheers as Triple H yells, “NWO sucks!” before dropping Edge with a Pedigree!

Triple H falls back into a seated position, then lays back sprawled out on the mat. He’s given everything he’s got to this contest and is completely spent. The crowd begins cheering, “Tri-ple H! Tri-ple H!” as he tries to sit up but it’s no use as he falls the short distance he’s risen back to the mat. Edge sits up, a glazed over look on his face as he’s trying to see straight.

Tom Phillips: Triple H can’t even sit up and Edge looks like he’s on another planet. How is either man going to finish this one?

Corey Graves: Come on, Edge!

Triple H tries to sit up again as he plants his hands on the mat at each side, steadying himself. He looks at Edge, who looks back at him as each man tries to push themselves to their feet. Some of the crowd is chanting, “Tri-ple H! Tri-ple H!” like earlier but amongst them are those chanting, “Edge!” as well. The crowd pops huge as both men get to a vertical base but both stumble, Edge somehow going backward and Triple H going forward because of the way their legs decided to give.

Once Edge’s back touches the ropes, Triple H is a mere few seconds behind as he manages to get his arm out, connecting with a clothesline as both of them go tumbling over the top rope and land on the outside.

DING DING DING!

Tom Phillips: Who wins?

A replay is shown on the titantron screen showing that as both men went over, Edge barely hit the ground first as the crowd cheers.

Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Triiiiiple H!

As the respective medical staff comes down the ramp to tend to both men, Revolution heads elsewhere.


——————————————————————————————



——————————————————————————————




Finally, the nWo theme hits the PA, immediately sending the capacity crowd into an uproar. They're already fed up with the heinous, self-righteous assholes, but as the members of the newly reformed faction funnel out on to the stage one at a time, it's soon apparent that the boys in black and white have no interest in "popular opinion". They're in their glory. Bischoff, Rude, Nash, Hall, Edge, Christian, O'Reilly and Sweeney. The whole damn lot. The UWF Universe looks on in horror as the gravity of the situation is fully realized live and in living colour. This is where the power is. This is where the gold is. This is the the new Revolution.

Phillips: HOW? How was this even allowed to happen? How did we get here?

Graves: The nWo flipped the wrestling business on it's head once before. I think they're here to do it again, whether you like it or not.

The octet heads down the ramp in single file, ignoring the fans spewing hate down at them the same way a speeding car ignores a fly with its windshield. The gang climbs into the ring while a terrified ringside hand hurries to make sure they all have microphone ASAP. The sheer volume of the group is emphasized all the more when they're gathered together in the squared circle. There's not much room left. This is an army. It's an unignorable statement. The most powerful men in the wrestling industry have banded together. Four separate UWF championship titles are represented among them, and soon, even more. While the fans are hating every second of it, there's no denying that no only is this a watershed moment in wrestling history, it's a sign and a shape of things to come. It's not a warning or a threat any more. This is immediate action. Clear and present danger.

The New World Order has arrived in the UWF. Scott Hall grabs a microphone and the fans begin to boo, with the muffled cheers behind them. Scott goes to speak but gets drowned out by the boos. He laughs and looks among his nWo brethren. Scott goes for the microphone again holding it in front of his face in a frozen pose, not five seconds but kind of close to five seconds but you get the picture. Scott sells the microphone for a bit more before…

Scott: Hey yo!

The muffled cheers have now come to almost match the boos in the arena. Either way, the response is deafening. Scott goes back to the microphone.

Scott: Now...I don’t know if ya’ll have heard...but back at nWo central...we’ve put together a little survey. You know the drill, it’s really simple. Either you’re with us..or you’re against us. So the question that I really wanna know is….how many of ya’ll came to see the morons of the UWF?

Another solid response from the crowd. This time there are a lot of cheers, not so many boos. The nWo laugh amongst each other. Edge holds up a scorecard sign with the number 4. Christian holds up an upside down 5. Rude looks at Christian’s sign and nudges him with his elbow. Christian looks at the sign and smiles while nodding his head, as if he understands Rude. Christian tosses the sign aside, flipping through the remaining signs in his hands. He pulls out a 3. The three is backwards. Rude covers his face and shakes his head, while Christian couldn’t be prouder of himself.

Scott: Not bad, not bad. Now...tell me how you really feel. How many of ya’ll came to see the--

Crowd:N...W….O!!!

The response is surprising. The nWo collective response is growing each week.

Scott: Survey says….one more for the good guys.

Scott hands off the microphone to Eric Bischoff. The crowd instantly begins to boo.

Bischoff: Wow! You people really like me! You really like me! Before I begin...I just want to take a step back and admire all of this...I just want to take a moment and let this all sink in one good time.

Bischoff steps up to the ropes with his back to the crowd, looking at the nWo in the ring.

Bischoff: As much as I would like to take credit for assembling the most unstoppable, most talented, and most phenomenal group in wrestling history….I can’t hog all that glory. There is one person that is responsible for every bit of this that you see before you. I can’t thank you enough for it...that man is none other than “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. Yeah, yeah, go ahead and cheer him, that’s all you people know how to do. Even a blind dog can find a bone every once in a while, ya know. Anyways...I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but for any of you faithful UWF fans out there that watch this product religiously, you would have noticed that the nWo has branched out to where it now appears on both Revolution as well as Resistance. We’ve seen a few guys hop over from show to show making their appearances as we draw ever nearer to this big merger...it’s what all the hype was about...until the merger of the century, no, the merger of all time. The nWo and Sweet n’ Sour Inc. joining forces. Tell me, have you heard about anything else this week? I know every social media outlet that I have access to, it’s the number one trend worldwide. As it should be. Why? Because we are taking it upon ourselves to change this business, for the better. We’ve already had one major victory here, and man...I wish you guys could have made it to the victory celebration, it was...it was intense. That victory was that we have succeeded in knocking Stone Cold Steve Austin down a couple of notches. He’s no longer the man in charge and for that each and every one of you are welcome.

The crowd cuts Eric off to boo him. He waits until they die down.

Bischoff: What’s next on our agenda, you ask? Well, myself, I personally won’t be satisfied until “Stone Cold” Steve Austin won’t even be qualified to perform janitorial duties backstage, in the eyes of the Board of Directors...but until then, we’ve got a few short-term goals in mind. First and foremost, there’s the big event that’s looming on the horizon: The Royal Rumble! And what a night it is going to be for the nWo! We have not one, but two members participating in the Rumble and maybe even potentially more, if anyone else wises up. We have the current...reigning...defending...3rd longest reigning Intercontinental Champion in history defending his title against the European champion “Big Poppa Chump” Scott Steiner. Rick, what are we up to? 173 days and counting? 37 days and you will be the longest reigning Intercontinental champion of all time!

Rude shuffles the IC championship higher on his shoulder and smugly strokes his moustache.

Bischoff: So when that merger takes place, Rude will not only continue his legendary reign as Intercontinental Champion, he will go down in history as the last European Champion in history. But wait! There’s more! Rather than me tell you all about it and hog all the glory...I’m going to hand things over to the man of the hour...the man with the power...he’s sweet...he’s sour...the nWo International Champion, Larry Sweeney!

The Triple Champs steps to the forefront, tongue stuck in his cheek while he grins out at the crowd. They boo the heck out of him, but Larry’s in his element. His vibe is untouchable.

Sweeney: Funny how I’m always right about everything, ain’t it? I tell you people that I’m gonna waltz into this business and take the world championship... BAM! It’s just so. I tell ya that I’m gonna knock over contenders like bowling ball ploughing pins… BADDA BOOM! I’m makin’ it look easy. And if you go back, like waaaaaaaaaay back now, I promised that the UWF was gonna get flipped over on its head. I told ya change was coming. I said kids, better batton down the hatches cause there’s a storm blowin’ through town and not a one of ya’s was prepared for it.

Low and behold.

Larry gestures to his new friends assembled in the ring.

Sweeney: These are the smilin’ faces of change. Out with the old, in with the new. Ethan Carter spent years tryin’ to correct course, and look what we’ve done in the past week alone? Ha! It’s downright unprecedented! It’s bark as much as it’s bite! Boo all ya want, but at some point you’re just gonna have to start takin’ Ol Uncle Larry at his word. For your own good.

Speaking of, here’s a couple more little predictions for ya - I beat Kenny Omega. I unify the world championships. One of us wins the Rumble. We take over Wrestlemania. We take over Revolution. And we take over the whole, entire UWF baba! Ahahahaha!

He steps back, cackling all the while while Rude takes over.

Rude: What I would like to have right now...is for all of you fat, out of shape, overweight, lazy-eyed, moronic nit-wits to try and keep the noise down and take a look at what real power looks like!

The crowd gives Rude some of their usual hate for him.

Rude: You could say that in our very short time of being the most dominant force professional wrestling has ever witnessed...you could say that we’ve definitely made a mark on it. Week in and week out, you’ve witnessed as we have taken step by step by step to take over this company. Here, tonight...you’re all going to bear witness as we not only leave a mark on this godforsaken company...but we show our true power and start off our own brand. And by that, I think you know what I mean.

Rude reaches into his coat pocket, as does Bischoff. They start pulling out cans of black spray paint.

Rude: Allow us to be the first to present to you the new nWo Intercontinental Championship AND the nWo World Championship! Edge, Christian...would you two be ever so kind as to get us a table so that we may have a stable canvas to brandish our masterpieces?

Phillips: Wait a minute! They can’t do that! Someone needs to stop this!

Graves: That’d be career suicide for any member of the UWF Roster Tom! The nWo is taking over, and they’re leaving their mark on the belts!

The crowd are distraught and start hazing the nWo, yelling in defiance, but it’s too late as Edge and Christian make their way out of the ring and pull out a table, sliding it in as Eric devilishly helps the two of them set the table up. Larry and Sweeney look at each other, asking who’d like to go first, and Rude sets his belt on the table. Edge cracks a nasty grin and in his hands are the black spray paint cans, as he shakes the can up and starts spraying the belt!

Phillips: This is disgraceful!

Edge finishes it up, and Sweeney puts his belt on the table next, telling Big Sexy now to to make a piece similar to Picasso! He shakes the can virgiously now, raises it up for the crowd to throw more heat, and sprays the UWF Championship! He stands back now, tossing the empty can, and the nWo looks on in an evil way, before Larry Sweeney and Rick Rude take their belts, and raise them over head, clinking them together to show their unholy alliance, before everyone in the ring hits one big Two Sweet!



All the men in the ring look to the stage as the crowd gives an emphatic response to the sound of the shattering glass and the theme that comes with it. It isn’t long before the, “Texas Rattlesnake” walks out onto the stage with a microphone in hand as he music fades out to silence.

Stone Cold: Just when I think I can’t possibly get anymore sick to my got dang stomach or pissed off ta’ high hell when it comes ta’ you sons a’ bitches, you start flappin’ yer little gums an’ prove Stone Cold wrong on the sick front and then you do somethin’ that proves what a bunch of bottom feeders you are an’ prove Stone Cold wrong on the pissed off front. This right here, this is way too damn far. It’s bad enough that they have ta’ look at any of you pieces a’ trash wearing a title belt, it’s like putting garnish on a shit sandwich. You can try ta’ purdy it up but it’s still a shit sandwich.

And it’s bad enough that, by association with a bunch a’ corner cuttin’ spineless pricks, the prestige a’ those belts have tanked to immeasurable lows. But that just wasn’t enough of a, “fuck you”, was it? You had ta’ put yer damn gimmick on it. And I’ve got half a’ mind ta’ come down to that ring and stomp a mudhole in yer asses and walk ‘em dry but there’s someone else chompin’ at the bit ta’ do that dirty work. You might recognize him from when he was makin’ a fool of ya last week. Here ta’ sign the contract for the You Dubya Eff and International Championship unification match this Sunday at the Royal Rumble, Kenny Omega!



Phillips: Yes! The UWF International Champion! Kenny Omega! He may be Resistance’s guy, but at least it’s someone coming out here to stop this!

Graves: Keep dreaming Tom! Omega’s only taken the nWo out via cheap shots! This is an 8 one 1 fight!

Omega comes out in a bit of a rush with a microphone in hand and talks to Steve Austin off mic for a moment. He seems unsure, but walks down the ramp. The nWo mutters amongst themselves, but Edge sits down two chairs begrudgingly. The nWo stands on one side, with Sweeney taking a seat, while Omega enters the ring and looks around the ring. Slowly, he takes a seat and puts the contract down, before setting his belt next to the newly minted nWo World Championship, while Rick Rude holds his title over his shoulder. The stage is set, and Omega takes the microphone up to his mouth, looking around with a bit of an irritated look. He seems speechless, but when he sees the newly minted nWo World Championship, he knows his target.

Kenny Omega: Jesus… talk about making about yours, eh? I see you all standing here. Edge, Christian, O’Reily… how’s the jaw?

He smirks at O’Reily, but Edge and Christian hold him back, telling him to forget about it. Omega looks back to Sweeney now.

Kenny Omega: You just couldn’t accept things. You’re all like children, if I can’t have your toys, no one can, so you break or ruin it. That’s pathetic… but what’s done is done, right? It’s not like we’ll be needing it after the Royal Rumble.

Omega takes the clipboard where the contract lies, and looks over it fo a moment, confirming everything’s there.

Kenny Omega: So… we’re here, Larry. I get Stone Cold’s wanting us to hurry this up, but before we sign pen to paper, this is it. Your last shot to get at me. To turn these fans against me. This is the open floor. So, make it good.

Omega offers up the microphone to Larry now. , who regards it with absolute disgust. The Diabetic Dragon walks forward, snatches it from Omega’s hand and gives it Sweeney, who seems much more to accepting it from someone he trusts. Weird hang-up, but it’s fine. The Triple Champ takes it from there.

Sweeney: Kenny… ya look awful. Yikes. Must be the jet lag. Travel doesn’t suit ya, pal. And championship gold just ain’t your colour. I’ll be doing you a favour when I disabuse you of the idea that you’re the kind of person who needs to be globe-trotting with ten pounds of title around your waist. I mighta handed you your entire career on a silver platter, but the biggest, best gift I’ll ever give you is knocking you down a peg. Think of how much better you’ll feel when you can get this load of your back! No more pretending to be in my league, no more acting like you’re God’s gift to professional wrestling, no more claiming to be the world champion when you’re actually just a second-rate scrub.

Larry smiles for himself. He’s so clever. He lounges back in his chair, his nWo friends looking cocky as fuck standing around him.

Sweeney: This contract’s nothing shy of a death warrant. This is bad news for you kid… bad news. Real bad. Just take a look around. The odds couldn’t be more stacked. And hey, I know you can’t help yourself but to play the hero here, and talk about how you’ll overcome anything to fight the good fight and all that jazz… but crimety… these are dire straits. I was shutting down world beaters like Jericho and Triple H when it was just me and Kyle. What’s it say for your luck now that Sweet n’ Sour Inc has partnered up with the single most dangerous buncha guys in wrestling history, huh?

I’m not worried about fighting for my honour here. I’m gonna do whatever it takes to beat you. I’m gonna be unify these titles and main event Wrestlemania to cap off the greatest first year anyone’s ever had in this organization. You’re a scrappy little son of a bitch, and you’re taletned as all hell. I’d never take that away from you. But there’s no stopping this, Kenny. You’d have better luck standing in the dead center of the tracks trying to hold back a speeding train. SPLAT! Hahahahaha!

Larry scribbles his autograph on the dotted line and callously tosses pen and paper across the table to his opponent. Omega looks at the contract, and for the first time in awhile, looks refreshed. He smiles and takes the mic.


[Kenny Omega: My say’s the same, Sweeney. Kevin Nash, Rick Rude, Christian, ehhhh, I can still whoop either one of you on one on. That’s not a false promise, that’s a guaranteed fact. I’m a premier athlete, and one of the few guys that can walk his talk around here. I don’t ignore the very few defeats I’ve suffered, because they only fuel me to better myself. All you have Sweeney is the numbers game. I’m not stupid, I get that. It’s a dangerous game few have ever beat, but look at what I’ve done in the past. You said it yourself… The Cartel? Finished them off. G.O.D. and Samoa Joe, I beat them all by myself, and they had baseball bats for cryin’ out loud… really, I’ve faced groups like you before. But this? You ruined a title that meant something. That’s about 6 or 7 years of work you just defaced. Men have almost DIED for that championship title.

Omega seems a bit more reserved now, taking off his sunglasses and putting them down. He grabs the pen and shakes it before continuing.

Kenny Omega: You see, I’m in this mood not because fear any of you. Not because I doubt myself, but I’m containing what patience I have left for you all. You’ve accomplished one thing tonight, and that was that any group of guys can run a muck. But there’s a shelf life for the nWo life style. Bring whoever you want to ring side. Weather or not I have help, I can’t decide. That’s for the boys in the back. The guys who’ve clawed, scratched, bled, and cried for a shot at the big leagues, to choose, if they want to do the right thing and help defend the UWF. If not, so be it. That’s on me to defend the only title that matters now- MY world championship. This was purely business at one point, but now? Consider my knee going through your skull a personal pleasure.

Omega takes the pen and signs it, causing a pop from the crowd. This is offical. Sweeney v. Omega. Protege v. Master. The crowd is beyond hyped, and Omega looks at Sweeney with a fiery heart.Omega and Sweeney stare off now as the two stand up, looking as business ready as ever, but before Kenny can leave, Edge and Christian sloooowwwly walk over with Hall and Nash to block his way, while Rude gives his title to Eric, and he undoes his jacket before pulling up his sleeves, and the nWo has Omega surrounded. Bischoff grabs the microphone from Rude.

Bischoff: Oh, Kenny...did you really think that it was going to be that easy? You got a cheap shot in on us...shame, shame shame...some people just never learn, do they? You’ve literally walked right into the lion’s den with a holiday ham around your neck. Not so easy whenever we’re all actually ready for you, is it? Hey boys, try not to hurt him too bad, eh?

Stone Cold: Before you do that, you should know that Kenny didn’t come alone.

Austin drops his microphone as the PA system comes alive again.



As the Resistance theme fires up one last time, the crowd is electric as Aim for the Bushes, the team of Jeff Hardy and Juice Robinson, come running out from the back. Kenny scoots the table forcefully into the NWO, knocking them down as AFTB hit the ring. Kenny hits O’Reilly with a V-Trigger and rolls him onto the table, he and Juice fighting off the first two to respond, Edge and Christian, as Hardy quickly goes up top and comes off with a Swanton Bomb through the table!

As soon as Jeff hits though, Hall and Rude pick him up and stick his head between Nash’s legs as the big man hoists him up and shakes the ring with a Jacknife Powerbomb. Jeff is picked up again immediately and thrown back first into the corner as Nash starts laying into his upper body with punches. Juice goes after Nash but Hall cuts him off with a big boot as he and Rude start stomping on him. Kenny gets backed into the other corner by Edge and Christian who are pummeling him with punches and kicks.

Corey Graves: Well it was a valiant effort by Resistance but you can’t bring three people to fight eight!

Tom Phillips: Look!

Austin slides into the ring behind where Bischoff is standing and taps him on the shoulder. As Eric turns around, he gets flipped the double bird before being dropped with a Stunner! Sweeney goes after Austin but he Irish whips the champion into the corner where Edge and Christian are attacking Kenny. As all four men are sandwiched in the corner, Kenny bears the brunt of the force and as they’re all stepping away, he grabs Edge and connects with a ripcord V-Trigger before unloading with a quick V-Trigger to Christian.

Sweeney starts stomping on Juice but Kenny spins him around. Larry’s a step ahead however as he connects with a thumb to the eye and a Bionic Elbow. Austin meanwhile has gotten Nash’s attention and as the big man turns to him, Jeff dropkicks him in the back, Austin kicking him and dropping him with a Stunner when he stumbles over. Rude goes after Austin as Hall stays on Juice.

Corey Graves: This is insanity!

Tom Phillips: Austin, AFTB, and the International Champion are raising hell on the NWO here!

With Kenny down, Sweeney retrieves a can of spray paint from earlier and starts shaking it up. As Kenny is getting up, Sweeney goes to spray him in the eyes but Kenny kicks the can out of his hand and goes for a V-Trigger but Larry falls to the mat and Kenny hits Austin with it instead! Omega looks beside himself as everyone stops what they’re doing. Hall and Rude laugh as they exit the ring, joining Sweeney on the ramp. As the cameras get one more shot of Austin lying on the mat with AFTB checking on him and Kenny looking angrily at the NWO, Revolution fades to black.



CREDITS

Promos- Respective TT’ers
Suzuki/Ciampa- Semi
Everything else- Dres

[Cwalker]

The nWo...wow that takes me back. and judging by the credits, Dresden is the new machine around here. Wish you the best my brother. I dug that Aleister Black promo and without knowing anything that’s going on here I can tell he’s a player. I love that kid guys are still going strong

[wasabi]

Ahhh yeah bb this was a fun episode. uhhh quick hits

Kris Wolf vs Jericho: I'll be honest when Brandyn first posted I was a little confused but I am intrigued where it is going right now. Dr cube is actually pretty fun messing around with character's I think are either going to be neat or just are good matches overall. That and the framing of Dr.Cube is a fun af personality to write as. Shoutouts to the writing team for putting up with my random picks.

Suzuki vs Ciampa: I like both of these characters and how they are done so shout outs to them and to Semi for the good match

Main: good ending and had a good hook for the rumble at the end.

Other thing: I have noticed the staffing stuff, but in the end I am excited for the brand unification since you know sometimes less is more. let's have a good rumble

[Gone]

All I can say about the closing moments of the show... Wow.

Dres, you are a machine and this episode before Rumble was great! This is what a go home show should be, great job to everyone involved in that closing segment and the whole show in general. Very enjoyable.