Aftershock 9

[Viola Moonlight]

Just as soon as the show hits the air, the entire crowd is booing as Armando Paradyse is in the middle of the ring arms folded with a microphone in hand in street clothes. He looks around at everyone, shaking his head at the audience. He waits for the people to die down in noise level before putting his microphone to his face.

Paradyse: My name is Armando Paradyse...

The crowd boos loudly once more at the name, forcing Paradyse to stop talking until they quiet down again.

Paradyse: ... and not only was I the centrepiece of the greatest tag team in this business but I'm also the best Mayhem competitor there ever was in WZCW.

The audience continues to boo but Armando continues as well.

Paradyse: I defeated the longest reigning Mayhem champion in his own environment to gain the title, signifying who truly great I am... and what happens? I get robbed and my title was stolen from me. Now that I am back, I finally get to invoke my rematch clause and take back what's mine. I will walk into Kingdom Come as the Mayhem champion and I will walk out of Kingdom Come as the Mayhem champion... and I will finally be on the card for Kingdom Come!

[YOUTUBE]o8Y9-JlSRXw[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd pops huge for the current Mayhem champion as he walks out on stage, also wearing casual clothing. He waves to the fans as he makes his way down the ring slowly.

Serra: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Aftershock... and we seem to be getting started quite quickly as the champion is coming out to address his challenger for the night.

Klamor: They'd better contain themselves here otherwise they'll be hurt heading into their title match as the main event of tonight's show.

Marquel gets to the stairs and enters the ring, showcasing his title before going over to the ring staff and asking for a microphone. He grabs one and as he turns around, Paradyse smacks Marquel in the head with the microphone. The crowd boos loudly as Marquel drops and Paradyse begins the assault on the Mayhem champion.

Klamor: Just ignore my advice then.

He continues hitting elbow after elbow to the face of Marquel, who eventually pushes him off and tries getting up. Paradyse is too fast however and is up quicker, hitting a shuffle side kick to the face of Marquel. He is almost out of it as Paradyse grabs the Mayhem championship, waiting for Marquel to stand up. He finally gets to his feet and he goes to swing but Marquel ducks. The crowd cheers as Marquel hits a clothesline onto Paradyse, followed by another. Marquel rips his shirt off, hearing some of the ladies scream, and grabs Paradyse's head, hitting a headbutt to knock him down. Marquel locks Paradyse into a Rear Naked Choke... and a few seconds into the hold, a referee runs past ringside and goes towards the timekeeper, telling them something as he enters the ring and signals for the bell.

Serra: It looks our main event title match is happening right now.

Klamor: ... Yes... Okay, according to what I've just been told Becky, Chuck Myles decided to get this match out of the way right now as he couldn't be bothered hauling security out here.

The referee is asking Paradyse if he wants to quit but he says no as he grabs the ropes nearest him, pulling himself and Marquel underneath the bottom rope and falls to the outside using Marquel as a cushion. Marquel grabs his back in pain, letting go of the hold so Paradyse can get up. He recovers and looks under the ring to fetch a street sign. He sees Marquel getting up and whacks the sign across his back before smacking his face. This makes Marquel stumble as Paradyse looks under the ring to grab a kendo stick. He follows Marquel around ringside, hitting Marquel with multiple shots from the stick until Marquel stumbles into the ring. Paradyse follows and hits one hard blow to knock Marquel down for a cover... 1... 2... kick-out by Marquel. Paradyse goes to the outside and grabs himself a chair, getting back into the ring and hitting Marquel with the steel once more to keep him down. Paradyse places the chair on Marquel's chest and positions himself as he hits a standing moonsault on Marquel. Both men are hurting after the shot but Paradyse manages to get up and put the chair back on Marquel's stomach. He then performs the rolling thunder move on Marquel, causing further damage to the stomach. Paradyse moves the chair and covers... 1... 2... kick-out. Paradyse is a little frustrated by this and grabs the chair, smacking Marquel in the stomach with the chair a couple of times before laying it across him once more. Paradyse goes over to the ropes and springboards of them, looking for a crossbody splash but Marquel throws the chair into Paradyse's face and rolls out of the way with Paradyse eating the canvas. Marquel tries to get up slowly as does Paradyse who seems to be seeing stars after the chair in the face.

Serra: Brilliant counter by Marquel there: that could have saved him the match.

Klamor: Paradyse was definitely going for the kill but Armando is still in better shape than Marquel... does he enough in the tank?

Paradyse is up first and kicks Marquel in the gut. He runs off the ropes looking for an attack but Marquel stands up and shoulder barges Paradyse down. He gets up quickly and Marquel locks Paradyse in and hits a belly-to-belly suplex on the steel chair. Paradyse clutches his back as it is in pain and Marquel covers... 1... 2... kick-out. Marquel exits the ring and looks underneath the ring, bringing out a steel pipe. He enters the ring and smacks Paradyse across the stomach before hitting him along the back to knock Paradyse to his knees. He goes to whack Paradyse across the face but Armando ducks, jumping up to hit a reverse DDT on Marquel. Both men are down once more, trying to get themselves to a vertical position to carry on with the match. Paradyse and Marquel use the ropes and manage to get up at the same time. Paradyse goes to hit Marquel but he ducks and Marquel responds with an eye gouge before locking in a nerve hold. Paradyse quickly reverses the move into a snapmare, grabbing the dropped steel pipe and hitting the back of Marquel with the weapon. Paradyse flips Marquel over and uses the steel pipe to aid him in using the Nightmare Clutch. The crowd cheers on Marquel as he struggles desperately to get out of the hold, fading fast as the pipe chokes out Marquel.

Klamor: This could seal Marquel's fate!

Marquel slowly makes his way to the ropes and is inches away from grabbing them until Paradyse unlocks the hold, pulls Marquel into the center and locks it in again. Marquel begins fading out and is unresponsive. The referee checks his arm and lifts it up for the first time... it drops. He lifts up for a second time... it drops. For a third............. it stays in the air. The crowd cheers loudly as Marquel has found a newfound strength as he tries to crawl towards the ropes. Paradyse lets go of the hold and hits Marquel across the back with the pipe, stopping him from getting any momentum. Paradyse signals for the end as he picks up Marquel to his knees and measures him up. He swings the pipe, Marquel ducks and is up on his feet, grabbing the throat of Paradyse. He picks him up and hits Jailtime on Paradyse, knocking the pipe out of his hand. It takes a moment for Marquel to recover as he waits for Paradyse. He drops the pipe and picks up the Mayhem belt, ready to strike. Paradyse turns around and he eats the gold belt to the face, dropping to the ground. Marquel lays the gold around his waist and covers him... 1... 2... 3!

The referee signals for the bell as Marquel gets up to a cheering audience, smiling as he defeated Armando Paradyse who is lying on the ground with the title belt across his waist.

Anderson: Here is your winner and STILL WZCW Mayhem Champion; Stevenson Marquel!

Serra: And just like that, Stevenson Marquel is heading to Kingdom Come with Armando's hopes of making the KC card flat-lining once again.

Klamor: I love these impromptu matches: always exciting to see the Mayhem competitors fight like this... especially with the added difficulty of not wearing their professional attires.

Marquel goes over to the side of the ring, asking for a microphone as the staff hand him one. He goes to the middle of the ring and lifts up the mic.

Marquel: Before I was rudely interrupted by Mr. Paradyse here, I was originally coming out here to not only school this punk in a rap battle but since he's out of commission for the time being, I might as well skip to the point... at Kingdom Come, instead of the Mayhem championship being contested in a Mayhem Rules match: I got it approved by Chuck Myles to have this title being fought in what is known as a Brooklyn Brawl.

Some sections of the crowd cheer as some people understand what the match is.

Marquel: For those of you who don't know... let's just say that Kingdom Come is going to play host to one of the most brutal street fights you will ever witness. I don't care if my opponent is Jason Armstrong, Phoenix or Ace Stevens: just know this, you're going to see a side of me I haven't unleashed in a long time.

Marquel drops the mic, picks up his title belt and holds it up for the crowd once more with them cheering as he exits the ring and up the ramp.

Klamor: A Brooklyn Brawl for the Mayhem title, aye? Seems interesting enough.

Serra: We can ponder about the Mayhem title later as we've got a show to start!

[YOUTUBE]NR7dG_m3MsI[/YOUTUBE]​

 

[Viola Moonlight]

This match is scheduled for one fall!


Introducing first, weighing in at 285 pounds; from Chicago, Illinois…Derek Jacobs!

The crowd gives Jacobs more of a reaction than his debut last week as some boos can be heard. Jacobs taunts the crowd and intimidates a few younger fans in the front with his threatening size.

Jacobs came up short last week in his debut as he suffered the pinfall. Lets see if that was a fluke or if that is the true Derek Jacobs.

No worries. Look at this man. He is huge, the sky is the limit.


And his opponent, weighing in at 175 pounds; from Paris, France…The Masked Gentleman!

The crowd doesn’t react much towards the debuting Masked Gentleman as he strolls out with a top hat upon his head and a slick white cane by his side.

Here is The Masked Gentleman and he is looking rather sharp here in his debut.

Sharp? This guy is a goof. A mask atop of a mask? I hope Jacobs destroys him.

The referee signals for the bell as the debuting Masked Gentleman stands calmly in his corner and the big Derek Jacobs pulls on the ropes before making his way to the center of the ring. The Masked Gentleman approaches and Jacobs gives the Gent a nice face wash, showing his clear advantage in strength. However Jacobs didn’t account for the Gent standing up for himself as he fires off a fury of knife edge chops that send the big man towering back. The Gent now takes to the knees of Jacobs. The big man falls to his knees and the Gentleman bounces off the ropes and nails a beautiful clothesline. A quick cover from the Gentleman. 1…2…

Only a two count as Jacobs gets his shoulder up.

It seems like Derek Jacobs underestimated just how much a fighter the Gent is. Almost a quick finish there.

Jacobs has the skills, but the brain may be lacking.

The Gent stays on the offensive as he locks in a sleeper hold to the kneeling Jacobs. Jacobs is fading as he tries grabbing onto the long hair of the Masked Gentleman, garnering a warning from the referee. Jacobs is groggy and he attempts one last escape as he yanks at the hair of his opponent and manages to flip him over as he claims innocence of hair pulling. Jacobs staggers to his feet and shoves the much smaller Gentleman into the corner and rounds off a series of four elbows to the head of the debuting star. Jacobs shouts out at the crowd as they shower him with some boos.

There it is. There is the intensity Derek Jacobs needs to show. This guy is huge and he just needs to overpower his opponent.

Jacobs grabs the Masked Gentleman by the head and lifts him up onto his shoulders and drops him face first on the corner with snake eyes. Jacobs bounces off the ropes and follows up with a nasty boot to the Gentleman. Gentleman is down as Jacobs still wants to inflict pain as he lifts his opponent up above his head and hits a military press slam. Jacobs now goes for a cover. 1…2… The Gentleman gets his shoulder up as Jacobs glares at the official.

Jacobs locks in a chokehold on his opponent as the referee begins the five count with Jacobs releasing at four. Jacobs stands up runs his fingers through his greasy hair before dropping an elbow down atop his opponent. Jacobs brings The Gentlemen back to his feet and goes for a suplex as he holds his opponent in the air.

Look at that strength! This man is a powerhouse.

Jacobs is showing off his strength as The Gent counters with a fury of knee strikes to the head forcing Jacobs to loosen the suplex and the Gent landing back on the mat.

Maybe a little too much showing off, what a counter by The Masked Gentleman! Using those quick legs for good use.

Jacobs is woozy as The Gent nails the big man with an elbow to the back of the head and follows up with a throat thrust as he bounced off the ropes. Jacobs staggers back into the ropes as the Gent heads to the apron and springboards in hitting a beautiful round house kick. The move sends Jacobs to one knee and the Gent has the crowd behind him. The Gent takes it off the ropes and flips at and nails an amazing dragonrana on the kneeling Jacobs. The crowd eats it up as the Masked Gentleman heads to the top rope. Jacobs gets to his feet and the Masked Gentleman flies for the guillotine leg drop, but Jacobs ducks and the Gent hits the mat.

That could have been the end right there for Jacobs.

Maybe he does have some brains after all.

Jacobs staggers over and grabs the Gentleman and goes for a t-bone suplex, but on the follow through the Gent lands on his feet. Jacobs turns around and is nailed by a slap from the Gentleman followed by a kick to the midsection. The Gentleman runs back and nails a wicked running curb stomp to the back of the head of Jacobs, who crashes face first to the mat. The Gent makes the quick cover, shooting the half. 1…2…3!

What a finisher! That thing was wicked from the Masked Gentleman. An impressive debut from the mysterious Masked Gentleman from France.

Even I have to applaud that. You could break a man’s face off with that move.

--------------------------------

We see Chuck Myles backstage on his cell looking very un-impressed.

So you're telling me that you cannot come here tonight because you're tutoring someone?

Myles waits for the response.

Okay, look... I will let this one time slide but the next time you do this there will be severe consequences.

He hangs up the phone and doesn't know what to do with himself. He is about to head off until he sees Hunter Jackson walk past with his bags, not saying a word as he heads for the exit. Myles looks on as Jack Skinner is trying to get him to stop.

Can't we just work things out?

Jackson keeps on walking as Skinner swears. He turns to Myles.

Can you believe him? He's just walked out on me and doesn't want to be my partner anymore. I don't even know what I did to annoy him.

Myles thinks for a second and an idea pops in his head.

Don't worry about him Jack. Look, I know you're in tag team competition with him but since he's left... which I will take care of... I've got an opening for the upcoming match against Daniel Dela Cruz as Mr. Butty isn't here tonight. If you want it: that match is yours.

Skinner smiles at Myles.

I'll take it.

Skinner heads back to his locker room to prepare as Myles smiles at himself as well, dealing with the situation quite easily.

----------------------------

We transition to Stevenson Marquel coming back from his match and heading to his locker room. The section that his room is in seems to have lost lighting as he continues to walk down the corridor. He reaches his door barely and goes to open it but he notices something. He turns around and sees Phoenix staring at him with red eyes and face-paint that glows red in the dark. The two men stare each other down, not moving a muscle. Marquel slowly opens the door as he enters his room with Phoenix continuing to stare and eventually disappear.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

The following contest is scheduled for one fall.

[YOUTUBE]Ate-P2_jM4I[/YOUTUBE]​

Introducing first, weighing in at 210 pounds; Daniel Dela Cruz!

The crowd cheers for Dela Cruz, as he enthusiastically makes his way down to the ring.

"Dela Cruz is riding a nice wave of momentum here, coming off a win over Hollywood Jameson."

"Yeah, but Jameson isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, either.

And his opponent, weighing 160 pounds; Jack Skinner!

[YOUTUBE]LpdGVCNAvt8[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd warmly acknowledges Skinner, as he makes his way down to the ring.

"Not the opponent most expected for Dela Cruz, but Jack Skinner had to step in due to some unforeseen circumstances."

"I was actually excited to see Mr. Butty in action. Just great."

The bell rings and the two men instantly meet in the middle of the ring, exchanging rights and lefts. Dela Cruz gets the advantage, whipping Skinner off into the ropes, only to be met with a Spinning Heel Kick from Skinner on the back-swing.

"Some quick action to start this one off."

"Skinner capitalized on Dela Cruz's sloppiness there."

Dela Cruz gets to his feet, before locking up with Skinner in the middle of the ring. Skinner pushes him away, connecting with a nice Clothesline, immediately following that up with a quick pin. 1... 2... Dela Cruz quickly kicks out.

"Trying to pick up the win early."

"More like wasting our time."

Skinner pops up to his feet, stomping away at Dela Cruz before he can recover. He pulls Dela Cruz up, running off into the ropes to try to hit another Clothesline, but Dela Cruz ducks under and connects with a Neckbreaker.

"What a reversal there!"

Dela Cruz takes Skinner up to his feet, before sending him right back down with a Dropkick. He takes off, running to the ropes and comes off with a Springboard Moonsault, but Skinner barely rolls out of the way.

"Big risk there!"

"Definitely didn't pay off, either."

Both men slowly rise, but Skinner is just a second faster to recover. Skinner explodes toward Dela Cruz and connects with another Clothesline, before immediately going for another cover. 1... 2... KICK OUT!

"Skinner's in control here. Dela Cruz's risk definitely took its toll."

Skinner looks to the referee, making sure it was just a two count. He grabs Dela Cruz by the head and pulls him up to his feet, pounding away at his face before sending him off in the corner. Skinner runs over and jumps onto the turnbuckle and begins punching away at Dela Cruz's head, with the crowd counting along.

1!

2!

3!

4!

"Vicious blows by Skinner here."

"Dela Cruz needs to get out of this."

5!

6!

7!

8!

9!

Skinner hesitates slightly and looks to the crowd before he connects with the final shot.

10!

Dela Cruz slouches down into a seated position, drained from the blows. Skinner drops off the turnbuckle and takes a few steps back, then runs toward the seated Dela Cruz and jumps into a Bronco Buster.

"Dela Cruz is in some serious trouble here."

"I don't know whether to be surprised or not?"

Skinner takes a few steps back and waits in the middle of the ring, measuring his opponent. A groggy Dela Cruz uses the ropes to get up, before Skinner runs at him and tries a Big Boot. Dela Cruz ducks out of the way and Skinner's foot gets tangled up in the ropes. Dela Cruz grabs Skinner and transitions into a roll-up pin. 1.. 2... KICK OUT!

"We almost saw the end there for Jack Skinner. Dela Cruz may have been playing possum."

"Or it could have been luck. Either or."

Both men rise to their feet, but Dela Cruz kicks Skinner in the stomach and gets a quick Snap Suplex. He reaches over and pulls Skinner up by the midsection, hitting him with a huge German Suplex.

"Good action from Dela Cruz."

Dela Cruz walks over to the corner and climbs up onto the top turnbuckle, waiting for Skinner to get to his feet. Skinner gets to his feet and Dela Cruz leaps off into a Flying Crossbody. He goes for the pin.

"This could be it for Jack Skinner!"

1...

2...

KICK OUT!

"He hasn't done enough to put Skinner down!"

Dela Cruz pulls Skinner up and puts him into position for a the Three Amigos. He goes for the first, but Skinner reverses and ends up on his feet behind him and locks in the Midnight Deadline! Dela Cruz tries fighting out, but he is slowly fading out of it.

"Great reversal by Skinner!"

"Dela Cruz never saw it coming."

Dela Cruz is down to one knee now, as the Sleeper Hold is taking its toll on him. The crowd begins to egg him on and he finds just enough power to back Skinner into the corner, causing him to release the hold. He quickly follows that up with a Pele Kick, which sends Skinner through the middle rope and to the outside.

"Spectacular athleticism!"

The referee begins his ten count on Skinner, but it is broken by Dela Cruz when he runs across the ring and hits a picture perfect Springboard to the outside. The ref begins another ten count, reaching seven before the men slide back into the ring.

"The Springboard seems to have done damage to both men!"

"Dela Cruz probably could have had a count-out victory, had he been patient."

Dela Cruz goes back on the offensive in the ring, but Skinner gets a second life and begins punching away at Dela Cruz. He swings him off into the ropes, but Dela Cruz comes back at him with the Manilla Stretch. Skinner tries to fight out of the Armbar, but he cannot and is forced to tap out.

Here is your winner, Daniel Dela Cruz!

"Great effort from both men here."

"I still can't believe Skinner tapped out, he could have had the win on multiple occasions!"

----------------------------

Joe West is pacing back and forth in ring gear in the backstage area, looking very angry. Suddenly, Darren Bull emerges from their locker room ready. West goes up to Bull.

West: What the hell took you so long in there? Our match is next.

Bull looks up at West and smirks.

Bull: I think I've found ourselves a problem-solver.

West is very un-impressed with the statement.

West: You know what would solve our problems? If you quit wrestling so I could achieve greatness... now, let's go. Hurry up!

West walks off, leaving Bull a little hesitant to follow who certainly does look all too keen to be teaming up with the person he expected to be happy to hear the good news he delivered.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Anderson: The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall!

[YOUTUBE]04854XqcfCY[/YOUTUBE]​

Joe West walks out from the curtain, followed by Darren Bull who is seemingly keeping his distance from Bull and doesn't seem to be in a great mood. West looks back and tells Bull to hurry up but Darren ignores him and keeps to his own pace. West shakes his head as he turns facing front and starts berating the fans.

Anderson: Introducing first, at a combined weight of 431 pounds; Darren Bull and Joe West, the Kings of Hate!

Serra: This was initially supposed to be a Triple threat match tonight but with Hunter Jackson walking out and Jack Skinner already competing, we have ourselves a standard tag team contest.

Klamor: Bull and West better get their act together tonight if they want any chance of getting to Kingdom Come. A win here could solidify a spot for the tag titles once more.

West is in the ring first, preparing himself as Bull takes a few deep breaths before going over to try and discuss strategy with West.

[YOUTUBE]y3_dRwQbtyE[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd pops as TLT comes out bursting through the curtain, going down the ramp at a fast pace to clap the hands of the fans. The Beard is out next with a smile/serious look on his face, waving his hand to the crowd.

Anderson: And their opponents, at a combined weight of 550 pounds; The Local Talent and The Beard, B.L.T!

The crowd chants along with the announcer as she says the team's name, causing the Beard to chuckle. Talent enters the ring and holds down the ropes so the Beard can get in easier. They hi-5 and begin talking strategy as West and Bull look on.

Klamor: For a jobber tag team, these guys are getting really popular. Who knew such a cheesy name could get you this amount of attention?

Serra: I will say that this production theme song they've got is quite catchy though.

The Beard starts off for his team as West orders Bull on the ropes. He shakes his head as he gets on the apron, allowing the referee to ring the bell.

Just as soon as it does, Derek Jacobs slowly walks down the ramp and catches the attention of BLT. He goes around ringside and heads over to Bull, giving enough time for West to sneak attack Beard with a sleeper hold. Beard is too fresh and is able to flip West over to break the hold. West gets up quickly and dodges an a clothesline from Beard, allowing West to hit a dropkick to make Beard stumble back. West runs at Beard and hits a clothesline, causing Beard to fall back onto the ropes. He tries whipping Beard but he reverses, sending West for the run. He manages to springboard off the ropes and hit a kick in the face, knocking Beard to his knees. He follows with a knee to the face before going for a pin... 1... 2... kick-out by Beard. West immediately tags in Bull, holding him down so Bull can ascend the second rope and hit a splash. He goes for his cover... 1... 2... kick-out by Beard. West gets on the ropes and is very weary of Jacobs on the outside who re-assures West of his presence. Meanwhile, Bull has mounted Beard and continuously hits elbows to the face, keeping him down until Beard manages to throw back Bull. Beard gets up and Bull tries going back on the attack but Beard reverses with a successful big boot. He goes to his corner and tags in Talent to a pop from the crowd. He enters and hits a running clothesline on Bull, then another... followed by a gamengiri that sends Bull stumbling to the corner. He runs at Bull and hits a stinger splash before going for a Japanese arm drag.

Serra: Talent is on fire.

Klamor: The fans are certainly behind him, that's for sure.

He waits for Bull to get up and he hits a kesagiri chop, then a bionic elbow... followed up by a Russian legsweep. He runs off the ropes and hits a leg drop... 1... 2... kick-out by Bull. Talent goes to run off the ropes once more as the ref checks on Darren and Jacobs manages to trip the leg of Talent, stopping him from continuing his attack. The crowd boos as Jacobs has no idea what Talent is accusing him for. He turns around and sees Bull recovered, hitting a spinning heel kick. This dazes Talent enough for Bull to hit a swinging neckbreaker. He follows up with a pin... 1... 2... kick-out. Bull gets up and tags in West, proud of his new investment. They both pick up Talent and hit a double suplex on him, with West going for the cover... 1... 2... kick-out. West goes for an armbar, keeping Talent grounded. Talent tries to find a way to reverse or counter but West has the arm locked tight. He goes his best to get to the ropes but as soon as he is close enough, West switches the hold entirely into the Koji clutch... stopping Talent from being able to move. The crowd cheers his name as he reaches desperately for the ropes, eventually grabbing the bottom rope to break the hold. West breaks on four then drags Talent into his corner, standing up. He tags in Bull and West gouges the eyes of Talent before whipping him into Bull who hits a palm strike, knocking Talent silly. He hits some knife-edge chops before Bull runs at Talent and hits a double knee lift. He covers... 1... 2... kick-out by Talent. Bull signals for the end as he lifts Talent up and takes him to the corner, lifting him up to the top. He taunts the crowd before he jumps off looking for Awesome Punishment but Talent jumps off with Bull and reverses into a super powerbomb. Both men are down as the crash the canvas, looking to tag their partners in.

Serra: Great counter there by Talent. It would have been good night for BLT if that connected.

Klamor: C'mon Bull... West is dying for the tag... and even more so is Beard.

The crowd is cheering on Talent as he finally tags in Beard, with the crowd popping loudly. Bull tags West and sees Beard running at him, throwing West over the ropes to bring him in the hard way. West tries some wild swings as he gets up but Beard blocks and manages to hit a series of repeated elbows to West's head, dazing him so Beard can build up a head of steam to hit a running crossbody. He gets up and runs again, this time hitting a high-speed leg drop. He goes for the cover... 1... 2... Bull interrupts the count. He tries attacking Beard but he is too weak and he sends him into the corner, hitting a splash that makes Bull stumble out. Beard picks up Bull for a snap scoop powerslam. He turns around and sees West recovered who kicks the knee out from Beard and hits him with a DDT. He starts pummelling Beard with everything he's got, eventually Bull helps out his partner. This continues until Talent enters the fray and fends off both men to the rejoicing crowd. Talent knocks down West but Bull gets the upper hand and throws Talent over the top in front of Jacobs. Bull looks out to Jacobs and tells him to handle Talent but suddenly he is lifted up by the recovered Beard who Gorilla Press Slams Bull over the top and onto Jacobs on the floor. He turns around and sees West running at him, who he hits with a back kick to the stomach, temporarily stopping West. Talent quickly hops back on the apron and Beard tags him in. Beard gives West a bearhug and the two of them hit their own version of the "Heart Attack". West goes down and Talent covers... 1... 2... 3!

The crowd cheers loudly as Talent and Beard begin jumping up and down, celebrating their victory. The referee holds their hands up as their music plays through the speakers.

Anderson: Here are your winners; BLT!

Serra: And the BLT racks up another win on their scoresheet and some positive momentum heading into Kingdom Come.

Klamor: And the Kings of Hate rack up another lose on their scoresheet, missing their last opportunity to make it to the event.

West is sitting up and begins stirring as Bull enters the ring, half concerned/half frustrated with the ending. Jacobs enters the ring as well and the two of them help up West but refuses any assistance. He gets to his feet and gets into a full-blown argument between West and Bull. They're verbally assaulting each other for a while until Jacobs splits them up, telling them to calm down. West shakes his head and exits the ring, heading up the ramp. Jacobs consoles Bull as he tries to explain the situation.

Klamor: Looks like there is trouble in paradise for the tag team division. We've already seen one team split: will the Kings be next?

-------------------------------

We see backstage Stevenson Marquel exiting his locker room with the lighting restored to normal in a new change of clothing, freshly showered from his contest prior. As soon as he leaves, he sees Ace Stevens waiting for him on the outside. Marquel doesn't look too impressed but he goes over to Stevens.

Stevens: Congratulations on your victory tonight, Marquel. Probably wasn't the best win for your career as it will lead to the end of your title reign and the reclaiming of my title when I face you at Kingdom Come.

Marquel laughs at the statement, confusing Ace.

Marquel: They said you were a comedian and after that joke, you're a damn fine one at that.

Stevens gets visibly angry with Marquel and grabs him on the shoulder, spinning him around to look at him.

Stevens: You dare mock me again and it'll be the last lyric you'll ever speak... but if you think I'm a joke, by all means: come down to ringside tonight so I can show you what I'm capable of.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Anderson: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring, weighing 222lbs, hailing from Sydney Australia, the Sothern Star… Joseph Greaves!

[YOUTUBE]ytf5XEmn_fU[/YOUTUBE]

Greaves arrogantly saunters down to the ring, his arms outstretched as he does his best to ignore the jeering fans in the front rows. Greaves quickly ascends the corner and sits perched upon it. From there, he crosses his arms and poses towards the crowd with his index and middle fingers pointed out. Greaves then dumps his t-shirt to the outside and stands in the middle of the squared circle, a smirk on his face and showing off his sculpted abs.


Anderson: And his opponent, weighing in at 210lbs and hailing from Portland, Oregon; Anderson P. Styles!

[YOUTUBE]n6T9olarH-U[/YOUTUBE]

Styles comes out with a towel over his head. He nods approvingly at the ramp and points to the fans. He slides into the ring and Greaves is immediately in his face, talking trash.

The bell sounds and both men square up to one another, standing nose to nose and jaw jacking. Greaves shoves his opponent who takes a step backwards but shows no signs of losing his cool. Greaves is right back in his face however; talking more trash before finally delivering a ringing open handed slap across the side of Styles’ head.

Klamor: And let the mind games begin.

The crowd “oooh” as they anticipate how Styles is going to respond, but once again the man from Portland simply takes a step back. Styles raises his fists in front of his face and with one hand gestures from his opponent to come at him.

Obviously frustrated, Greaves charges in with a swinging right hand only for Styles to easily avoid the blow and duck behind his opponent slapping on a waste lock. Greaves tries to fire off some back elbows to disrupt the hold, but Styles keeps his head planted firmly against his opponent’s spine and out of reach of the blows. Greaves changes tack and tries to pull his opponent forward towards the ropes. Sensing an opportunity Styles slips his leg between Greaves’ and uses the Australian’s own momentum to bring both men crashing to the ground, Styles on top with the waste lock unbroken.

Serra: Styles using his armature wrestling experience to great effect here.

Klamor: A nice takedown I’ll grant, but Styles isn’t competing for points here. Nobody ever won a match with a waste lock.

Greaves is now trapped in the centre of the ring; his midsection is being compressed making it difficult for him to breath. He brings his hands to his waste and tries to power out of the hold, but Styles’ basics and too good and he is unsuccessful. Styles is showing very little interest in attempting to improve his position, apparently content to simply lie there putting pressure on his opponent.


Greaves’ face is beginning to redden, either due to shortness of breath or anger at his current predicament. He kicks his legs out and tries to scrabble towards the ropes in order to force a break. He struggles to gain purchase on the canvas, but gradually makes progress towards the apron. As he is about to make contact however; Styles springs back to life executing a wrestling roll back into the centre of the ring. The crowd is fast becoming subdued, disappointed by the lack of action, and Greaves appears to share their frustration. He begins thrashing violently back and forth, trying to create enough space to break the hold. Styles maintains his grip and uses Greaves’ momentum to roll him into a pinning predicament. 1… Greaves kicks out with authority before two, and finally succeeds in breaking his opponent’s grip. Greaves rolls to his knees gasping for breath, pulling in huge lungfuls of air, but Styles is instantly back on him slapping on a side headlock.

Serra: Styles has clearly gone into this match with a game plan established. He knows that Greaves is the quicker man, so he’s trying to prevent him from creating space to exploit that speed and wear him down.

Klamor: Greaves isn’t the only one who’s getting worn down. Styles offence is so dull that I find myself getting put to sleep.

Not wanting a repeat of the previous hold, Greaves immediately bull rushes his opponent, powering back to his feet and pushing both men into the ropes. He tries to use Styles’ momentum off the ropes to whip him across the ring and create some distance between the two men, but Styles maintains his grip and simply drags his opponent back into the centre of the ring, headlock intact.

The Southern Star changes tack and attempts to use his position to lift Styles up for a back suplex. He succeeds in getting him off the ground, but the veteran grappler kicks his legs out mid-air, reversing the move and using his descending momentum to flip Joseph Greaves over with a headlock takedown.

Greaves stamps his feet in frustration and once again begins the process of trying to fight back to a vertical base. True to form Styles is still showing little interest is trying to develop his position, happy to try and wear his opponent down with his superior grapping skill.

Klamor: Wake me up when something interesting happens Becky.

Serra: Interesting? Styles is putting on a mat wrestling clinic here.

For a moment Greaves appears to catch a break; he brings his legs up and succeeds in scissoring his opponent’s head, successfully dragging him down and breaking the headlock. Determined not to make the same mistake a second time Greaves doesn’t pause for breath and scrambles instantly to his feet. He fires off a dropkick which Styles smartly sidesteps, and as Greaves struggle upright again he finds his head once again locked by Styles’ arm. Frustration getting the better of him Greaves shouts through clenched teeth, drawing light chuckles from a crowd amused at his inability to forge any kind of offensive momentum.

Serra: I can’t remember the last time I saw a star dominate a match like Styles is doing here. Greaves is still yet to get out of the starting blocks.

Klamor: Styles isn’t dominating. He isn’t doing anything. This is all just stalling.

Serra: Do you not think that these holds are going to have an effect on Greaves later in the match Johnny?

Klamor: A negligible one. Greaves is a conditioned athlete; he’s not going to get worn down by a headlock. Styles knows he can’t match him going hold for hold so he’s just trying to drag this out for as long as possible.

Greaves uses his weight advantage to once again push both men into the ropes, and learning from experience this time holds his opponent there until the referee demands that the hold be released. Styles promptly releases the hole, raising his arms in the air, whereupon he is immediately cheep shotted in the face by Greaves.

Klamor: Finally! Entertainment.

Serra: If you call a dirty trick ‘entertainment’.

The referee attempts to admonish Greaves, but the Aussie is in no mood to be lectured and ignores the official, continuing to deliver clubbing blows to his opponent. The referee begins counting: 1… 2… 3… 4… before jumping in and physically manhandling Greaves off his opponent.

Serra: Greaves needs to be careful here. The referee would have been within his rights to call for a disqualification there.

Klamor: The referee is doubtless as bored as I am. He knows that Greaves is the entertaining one in this match so he’s giving him a little bit of leeway.

Greaves charges back in, but the momentary break has given Styles time to shake the cobwebs from his skull and he dives forward executing a textbook single leg pick. Greaves falls to the mat and Styles takes the opportunity to slap on a heel hook.

Greaves goes for the ropes, but Styles’ forfeits the hold in order to drop an elbow on his opponent’s midsection. Styles pins his opponent: 1… but Greaves rolls the shoulder. Styles maintains the mount however and shoots for another pin: 1… Greaves again rolls the shoulder. This time Styles plants both fists on Greaves’ shoulders: 1… 2… forcing the Australian to kick out.

Serra: Styles is sticking to his game plan masterfully here. He knows that he doesn’t have Greaves beat, but he’s forcing him to keep expending energy with repeated pin covers.

Klamor: Yeah; perhaps he’s hoping that his opponent will pass out of boredom.

Styles gets back to his feet and carefully circles his rising opponent, looking for an opening. He thinks he sees one and attempts to slap on a hammerlock, but Greaves escapes the hold out the back and synchs in a hammerlock of his own. Styles counters with an inverted leg sweep dropping his opponent and then attempts a wrist lock only for Greaves to roll through the hold and back to his feet.

Sensing a changing of the tide Greaves launched himself into the ropes. Styles attempts to meet him coming back with a Thesz press but Greaves drops to the mat and baseball slides under him. As Styles turns, Greaves hits him with a picture perfect dropkick to the face. Styles reels backwards and Greaves follows up with a second dropkick, sending Styles tumbling to the apron. As Styles uses the ropes to pull himself upright, Greaves springs off the perpendicular middle rope, vaulting back into the ring to deliver a third missile dropkick, sending his opponent flying off the apron and into the guardrail.

Klamor: You see, Greaves doesn’t look warn down to me. He’s just managed to do more damage in thirty seconds than Styles managed in the rest of the match combined.

Greaves is determined to keep up the offence and throws caution to the wind, vaulting over the top rope with a plancha. Styles however is not sufficiently rocked and is able to evade to assault, leaving Greaves to smack down hard into the ring mats. Styles slides Greaves back into the ring, following up with a quick pin: 1… 2… Greaves kicks out. This time Styles hooks Greaves’ leg attempting a second pin cover: 1… 2… Greaves is clearly feeling the after effects of his failed dive, but once again he manages to get a shoulder up.

Serra: A good comeback from Greaves, but he let his impatience get the better of him. Styles is definitely winning the mental battle here, getting right back to his game plan.

Styles is in full control of the match once more, and he grabs his opponent’s leg and manoeuvres him back into the centre of the ring before attempting to execute a single leg crab. Greaves tries to use his free leg to kick Styles away but in unsuccessful and the hold is locked in. Styles leans back to increase the pressure, then without warning releases the hold and transitions into another side headlock.

Klamor: Another one? Geez.

Serra: I’m amazed that you of all people can criticise someone for trying to win a match Johnny. You tolerate transparent foul play in the name of victory, but have a problem with someone exploiting their legitimate wrestling ability?

Klamor: Transparent foul play tends to be exciting to watch Rebecca. This is like something out of the nineteen-thirties.

Serra: Well you’d be in a position to know.

Greaves is wrenching on Styles’ arm, trying without success to counter into another hammerlock. Styles takes a moment to grind Greaves’ face into the mat, apparently further enraging the Australian. Greaves manages to find an extra gear from somewhere and forces his way back onto his feat. Styles shoots for another headlock takedown, but in a reverse of earlier Greaves is able to block the move and counter into a back suplex. Greaves covers his opponent but before the referee can drop down to count Greaves surrenders the pin, instead electing to fire repeated right hands to his opponent’s face.

Deciding that he needs to inflict further punishment to his opponent Greaves drags Styles back to his feet. Greaves sets up Styles for a lifting DDT, only for Styles to counter, lifting his opponent up onto his shoulders. Styles goes for a big fireman’s carry, but Greaves lands on his feet and flies into the ropes. Styles races after him and goes for a running forearm smash but Greaves ducks under the blow and hits the ropes on the other side of the ring. Greaves tries a running clothesline but Styles ducks the blow; Greaves however stops running as soon as he passes his opponent and fires off a roundhouse kick. More by luck that judgement a spinning Styles manages to catch the kick. Greaves tries for an enzuigiri kick, only for Styles to lean backwards out of the way. Greaves shows terrific agility and manages to land on leg following the failed kick, but Styles is one step ahead and uses the trapped leg to snap off a dragon screw.

Both men are quickly back to their feet and Greaves manages to land a dropkick, seeding his opponent backwards into the ropes. Greaves follows up with an Irish whip, but Styles reverses. Styles lowers his head for a back body drop but Greaves rolls backwards over the top of him and keeps running. Styles pursues and both men go for a clothesline, only to succeed in wiping one another out. The crowd have definitely come alive during this exchange and are making themselves heard.

Greaves is the quicker man back to his feet and he is immediately on Styles, lifting his from behind and delivering a brutal wheelbarrow face buster. Greaves covers: 1… 2… Styles only just gets a shoulder up.

Klamor: You see! After all that stalling in the early stages of this match, when both men were down Greaves was still the quicker to his feat. Styles came into this match with a game plan but it hasn’t worked. Greaves has this in the bag.

Greaves is clearly sensing the same thing and his picks his opponent up and grabs his head to deliver a hangman’s facebuster; Styles however has this move scouted and he grabs Greaves’ arm, countering the move into an over the shoulder wristlock. Greaves tries to twist out of the hold, but Styles catches him mid rotation in another side headlock. Greaves tries to push for the ropes, but Styles is having none of it and once again flips his opponent with a headlock takedown.

Serra: Styles doesn’t seem prepared to abandon his game plan just yet.

Klamor: This is stupid. He’s seen that it isn’t working and yet he’s still trying it. The difference between a good wrestler and a great one is an ability to adapt in the ring. I’m not sure Styles even counts as a good wrester at the moment.

Greaves in incensed at having the momentum taken away from him once more and begins throwing punches over his own shoulder to try and break the hold. Styles however isn’t remotely phased by the light blows and simply smiles to himself, focusing on maintaining the hold.

Serra: Styles is not even blinking at those clubbing blows from Greaves. The man is notorious for his ability to take a punch, and we’re clearly seeing that tonight.

Klamor: I’d hardly call those glancing blows ‘punches’. You can’t throw fists effectively when you’re in a headlock, Greaves needs to focus and not get frustrated by Styles’ ineffectual stalling.

Serra: He doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job; Greaves focus has been poor all night.


Klamor: Can you blame him? I’m struggling to focus on Styles’ offence myself. It’s just so bland.

In a surprising change of pace, Styles eventually voluntarily releases the hold, allowing Greaves back to his feet. Greaves, if possible, looks even more incensed by this generosity and changes Styles is a takedown attempt. Styles easily sprawls, and then uses his position to slap on a modified hammerlock.

Klamor: Oooh, Styles trades one nothing hold for a different nothing hold. That’ll win him the match.

Serra: I think you might be missing a trick here Johnny.

Greaves tries to roll out of the hammerlock, but Styles positioning makes this impossible. He starts gradually working his legs towards the ropes, scrabbling furiously to force a break in the hold. Styles immediately offers a clean break and backs up into the centre of the ring. As Greaves pulls himself back to a vertical base, Styles once again raises his fists and with one hand gestures for Greaves to come at him. Greaves does not take this well and charges in once more. Styles darts forward and hooks his opponent for a fireman’s carry, but Greaves manages to escape out the back and delivers an inverted DDT.

Greaves follows up with more stiff punches to Styles face, shouting between each blow. He then hits the ropes and delivers a baseball slide dropkick to the back of Styles head. The move knocks Styles towards the corner and Greaves senses his opportunity. He sprigs up to the top rope and takes a moment out to taunt the crowd. Greaves comes off the top rope with a diving leg drop; Styles rolls, but is only successful is getting partially out of the way and still eats most of the impact of the move. Greaves lands hard on his tailbone and winces with the impact. He takes a moment to run his spine, and then singles for Breaking the Trend.

Klamor: Looks like we’re entering the final stages of this match. Styles was simply delaying the inevitable.

Serra: It’s not over yet Johnny. Momentum can change in an instant.

Greaves picks a disorientated Styles up from the mat, twists his head into a hangman’s potion, this delivers a devastating spinning facebuster.

Klamor: The Final Act! What were you saying Becky?

Greaves scrambles over to his opponent, but instead of simply pinning him elects to start raining down more blows.

Klamor: What is he doing?

Styles looks to be out of it, but Greaves evidently isn’t finished. He signals to the crowd for another Final Act.

Klamor: Pin him you Muppet!

Greaves lifts his opponent back up and tried for a second Final Act, only for Styles to come alive at the last minute and shove Greaves away. Greaves rushes back at his dazed opponent and tries his finisher again; once again Styles shoves him away. Evidently deciding that the third time is the charm, Greaves charges in once more; however this time Styles jumps at him, taking him down with a sloppy Lou Thesz press. The referee drops and counts: 1… Greaves easily gets a shoulder up, since Styles is making no effort to follow through on the pin, simply focusing on keeping his opponent grounded.

Serra: Styles is trying to buy time to recover from that last onslaught of offence. Greaves did a lot of damage there, Styles is going to have to work hard to win from here.

Klamor: Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Greaves had the match won but he couldn’t keep his cool. If by some miracle he doesn’t take this match then he has only himself to blame.

Styles is still rocked and is unable to keep Greaves grounded for long. As both men regain their feet Greaves is immediately back on the offence executing a Russian leg sweep. Greaves picks his opponent up once more and attempts a snap suplex, but Styles manages to tangle his leg with Greaves’ and blocks it. Styles attempts a suplex of his own but is unable to pull it off and collapses to his knees. Greaves takes the opportunity to deliver a sickening kick to the face that makes the audience groan. Styles is rocked but somehow managed to find his feet again.

Greaves follow up with a jumping enzuigiri that once again fails to take Styles off of his feat. Greaves runs at Styles attempting a clothesline and succeeds in knocking him down. Styles rolls immediately back to his feat but seems to be operating on automatic, his eyes are glazed and he seems only dimly aware of his surroundings. Greaves senses that the end in neigh and goes for one more Final Act. He twists Styles’ head back into a hangman’s position, then spins back round to deliver a match ending facebuster only for Styles break free mid move. Greaves own momentum drops him to his knees, and Styles is immediately on him with an Oklahoma roll. The referee counts: 1… 2… 3. Greaves breaks free as the referee calls for the bell, but it is too late. Greaves looks utterly incensed by the decision and charges back into the fray, delivering two hard shots to the head before the official drags him away. Styles slowly draws himself upright. He keeps his eyes locked on Greaves, who now has multiple ring personnel trying to control him, and slowly raises his arm in victory as the crowd applaud.

Anderson: The winner of this match, by pinfall, Anderson P. Styles!

Klamor: What? What just happened?

Serra: I told you momentum can turn on a dime Johnny. Anderson Styles just pulled out the victory right at the death.

Klamor: Pfft, I don’t call that a victory, Greaves beat himself. He had the match won, and then threw it all away with his poor temperament. All Styles was doing was stalling.

Serra: Did you ever consider that he was trying to get into Greaves’ head? Styles knew that if he frustrated his opponent for long enough then he was bound to make a mistake. It only takes three seconds to win a match, and Styles was able to find them.

Klamor: It’s a nice little theory Becky, but I’m not buying it. Styles is very lucky to be walking out of here tonight with his hand raised. You can guarantee that Greaves will be out for his blood then next time these two come face to face.

----------------------

We are backstage with Jason Armstrong watching the monitors from the last match, doing his final stretches. He is startled as Marquel slaps him on the back as a friendly gesture. Jason looks up and is a little weary.

Marquel: Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. I just wanted to come up and say good luck out there tonight. It would be a great honour to face you again for the title but in one-on-one circumstances.

Jason smiles and extends a hand with Marquel shaking.

Armstrong: I appreciate the kind words. I just hope you're ready for Kingdom Come.

With that, Armstrong leaves for his match leaving Marquel behind.

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Anderson: The following contest is your main event of the evening and will be the final contest before Kingdom Come IV!

The crowd cheers loudly at the mention of the big event.

Anderson: It is a Triple Threat Mayhem rules match, scheduled for one fall where the winner will face Stevenson Marquel in a Brooklyn Brawl match for the WZCW Mayhem Title at Kingdom Come IV!

Serra: Big time match feel here tonight: it's going to be all or nothing for these three superstars and only one can emerge the victor.

Klamor: Prepare yourself for a brutal match as these three will stop at nothing to win this match tonight.

[YOUTUBE]lQFETJqRctw[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd cheers as Jason Armstrong walks out to red and blue lighting, looking completely focused on the match. He waves at a couple of fans but his look doesn't change as he heads for the ring.

Anderson: Introducing first, from Jacksonville, Florida, weighing in at 240 pounds; Jason Armstrong!

[YOUTUBE]lZD4ezDbbu4[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd boo's as Ace Stevens makes his way out, pumping his fist to the beat with a smirk on his face. He struts down to the ring, stroking his hair on the way as he hits ringside.

Anderson: And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 228 pounds; Ace Stevens!

[YOUTUBE]MKU_98Bq6DM[/YOUTUBE]​

The crowd has a chorus of boos, although some fans still cheer as Phoenix enters to a darkened arena, slowly walking out and down the ring. He looks around the arena with a deranged look as he continues walking slowly.

Anderson: Finally, from Kobe, Japan, weighing in at 223 pounds; Phoenix!

Serra: An interesting mix of competitors we have here: a veteran, a former Mayhem champion and a re-rising star. Marquel is going to have some tough competition no matter who wins here.

Klamor: Speak of the devil...

The lights go back to normal with all three men standing in the ring, eyeing each other out. However, before the match starts, Stevenson Marquel walks down the ramp to a pop with the Mayhem title around his shoulder. He continues down and goes around ringside, staring at all three competitors as he takes a seat near the announcer's desk, waving to both commentators.

Klamor: Looks like a little pre-match scouting. Very wise on the part of Marquel: this kid actually might have some brains in that big head of his.

Serra: He is a defending champion for a reason.

The three men focus back on each other as the referee signals for the bell.

Stevens immediately rolls out of the ring and starts searching for weapons. Armstrong attempts to go for a test of strength with Phoenix but he ignores him and also exits the ring in search of weapons. Armstrong quickly jumps out as well to arm himself with something. Stevens pulls out a steel chair, Phoenix begins littering the ringside area with signs & garbage bins and Armstrong pulls out a garbage lid and a kendo stick. Stevens immediately goes after Armstrong and goes to swing the chair but Armstrong uses the lid as a shield to block, then uses the kendo stick as a sword to stab Stevens in the stomach. He drops the chair as Armstrong whacks the back of Stevens knee, forcing him to his knees. He drops the lid and smacks him across the chest multiple times with the kendo stick before switching to the lid, hitting him right on the head. Stevens is knocked down as Armstrong re-equips himself with the kendo stick. He turns around and Phoenix is behind him with a garbage can, throwing the can in his face. Phoenix quickly charges at Armstrong and hits a running knee lift to Armstrong, making him groggy enough for Phoenix to hit a Northern Lights suplex on Armstrong into the garbage can. Armstrong clutches his back as Phoenix looks at the damage, an emotionless expression across his face. He turns to Stevens who is almost up and goes to kick him. Stevens catches the kick and spins Phoenix around: dragon whip kick to the face that sends Stevens back near the barrier. Phoenix charges at Stevens and throws himself into Stevens, causing whiplash between him and the barrier for Stevens. Phoenix slowly gets up and shakes the cobwebs as he picks up Stevens and smashes his head on the barrier before throwing him into the steel post on the outside. Phoenix measures his man and goes for a running spinning heel kick but Stevens evades the contact, leaving Phoenix to hit the bare steel with his foot. Phoenix grabs his foot in pain as Stevens recovers, allowing him to hit a few knife-edge chops whilst Phoenix is defenceless. He hits a European uppercut, pushing Phoenix back into the corner barricade. Stevens looks under the ring and picks up another steel chair. He guards it on his chest like armor and runs at Phoenix, hitting a stinger splash in the corner barricade. Stevens moves backwards and drops the chair, allowing him to hit a swinging neckbreaker to Phoenix onto the chair. Phoenix clutches the back of his head and rolls into a ball, the referee coming to the outside to check on him to see if he's okay.

Klamor: Phoenix is taking a real beating here tonight.

Serra: I hope he's okay.

Stevens laughs as he faces Marquel who is still watching on. He points at Phoenix and says to Marquel "do you still think I'm a joke?" Marquel laughs as Stevens is blindsided by Armstrong with a kendo stick to the back of the head. Stevens struggles to get up but is immediately put down as Armstrong uses the kendo stick to perform a lariat clothesline. Stevens holds his throat as Armstrong is able to lock on a body scissors, using the stick as a way to choke Stevens from the throat. He keeps it locked in for a while until Armstrong sees Phoenix recovering. He lets go and goes after Phoenix, hitting him with a running forearm smash. Armstrong goes under the ring and finds himself a car battery as well as some clamps. He picks up the battery and smacks Phoenix in the stomach with the battery, dropping Phoenix down quickly. He moves the battery out of the way as well as the clamps and goes underneath the ring, pulling out a some fluorescent lightbulbs. He takes hold of one and aims for Phoenix but he evades the contact, getting behind Armstrong to hit the Incinerator. Armstrong remains on the ground as Phoenix grabs the clamps, wrapping around the hands of Armstrong to use them as cuffs. He picks up Armstrong and pushes him into the apron, picking up a lightbulb and smacking him with it which breaks on impact. Jason drops down to the ground as Phoenix turns his attention to Stevens who is crawling around in his littered sign area. Phoenix goes after him, picking up a stop sign. He goes over to Stevens and smacks him across the back several times, each hit more louder than the last. He picks up Stevens and shoves him in the barricade corner, smacking him in the gut with the corner of the stop sign. He switches signs, grabbing a 50 mph sign and moves back. He runs at Stevens and hits the Final Flight, using the sign to cause maximum damage. The two fly over the barricade and into the crowd. Some people have been knocked out of their seats and the others clear out as security escorts them away.

Serra: This crowd are definitely getting their dollar's worth tonight.

Klamor: Let's hope these guys can contain themselves out there: we don't want a lawsuit for wrestlers hitting audience members.

Phoenix is first to his feet and throws the sign back into the ringside area, opting to use one of the chairs that the crowd members are using. He whacks it across the back of Stevens before booting him back, causing more of the front-row of the audience to move. Phoenix goes after him, knocking down chairs in the process and picks up Stevens, throwing him into more crowd members. Security has now instructed all front-row members to vacate the area on that particular side of the arena as Phoenix has no intentions of stopping. Phoenix moves back a few paces and goes to run at Stevens. He launches himself off a chair to attack Stevens but he evades the contact, pushing Phoenix into a group of chairs which he crash-lands into. A whole heap of crumpled chairs contort around Phoenix's body, causing the fans to say "Holy Sh!t." Stevens takes this time to recover, getting to his feet properly. However, he gets struck in the back from ringside from Armstrong, who has untangled himself and used the clamps as a whip, using the metal ends to smack Stevens in the back. Armstrong jumps over and goes after Stevens, choking him with the clamps and forcing him back over the barricade. He climbs over and then sends Stevens straight into the steel steps using the clamps to him. He knocks off the stairs, which Armstrong goes over to and picks it up, ready to finish off Stevens and leaving the clamps behind. He waits for Stevens to recover, who grabs the clamps without Armstrong noticing. Armstrong charges at Stevens but Stevens uses the clamp to whack Armstrong's feet out, causing him to fall forward and smack his head into the steel steps, causing a nasty whiplash effect. Stevens recovers and picks up the almost lifeless body of Armstrong, eventually throwing him into the ring. It takes a while for Steven to enter as he is still recovering but he does enter the ring and goes for the first pinfall of the match... 1... 2... Stevens gets pulled out of the ring by Phoenix and slides into the ring, going for the cover... 1... 2... Phoenix gets pulled out of the ring by Stevens and tries to attack him but Phoenix ducks hitting him with stiff kicks on the body of Stevens to slow him down before picking up a sign and smacking it across his head. Phoenix slides into the ring for a cover... 1... 2... kick-out by Armstrong.

Serra: Jason is hanging in there despite the nasty fall he took.

Klamor: It amazes me that Phoenix is still standing after what he's taken as well.

Phoenix looks at the fallen Armstrong and signals for the end of the match, stalking Armstrong until he gets to his feet. Armstrong turns around as Phoenix goes for the Rebirth but he evades the contact. Phoenix lands on his feet but Armstrong is behind Phoenix and hits a perfect release German suplex. Phoenix holds his stomach from the impact as Armstrong goes to his feet, picking up Phoenix and tries going for his Road to Redemption finisher but Phoenix slides behind the back of Armstrong. Armstrong turns around and gets hit with Redemption by Phoenix, pinning him... 1... 2... Stevens breaks up the pin with the car battery across the temple of Phoenix, knocking him out almost instantly. Stevens sees Armstrong trying to get up and he connects with the Last Laugh to Armstrong, knocking him outside the ring. Stevens sees Phoenix and locks him in his Y.A.P. submission. Phoenix has very little gas left and has no choice but to tap.

The referee signals for the bell as the crowd boos and Steven's music hits the speakers. He drops to his knees and gets his hands raised by the referee.

Anderson: Here is your winner and the Number One Contender for the WZCW Mayhem Title at Kingdom Come IV; Ace Stevens!

Klamor: Stevens has done it! The former Mayhem champion will get his rematch against the man who took his title.

Serra: Solid effort by both Armstrong and Phoenix though; they pushed Stevens to his limits to get here.

Marquel stands up out of his chair, applauding Stevens in the ring. He doesn't appreciate this and rolls out of the ring to approach Marquel. He goes to Marquel and begins trash-talking in his face before pushing him. The crowd "ooo's" as Marquel pushes him back and the two ensue in a brawl on the outside of the ring. Marquel gets the upper hand and manages to throw Stevens into the ring, continuing the brawl on the inside. As Marquel tries getting into the ring, Stevens attempts the Last Laugh but Marquel evades, setting him up for the Brooklyn Big Boot but Stevens exits the ring and runs up the ramp to a booing audience. Marquel tells Stevens to get some as he raises his Mayhem title he took into the ring and shows it off for the crowd.

Serra: Stevens is such a coward: he provoked and attacked Marquel but at the first sign of trouble he runs.

Klamor: He was getting under Marquel's skin, Becky. It's better to fight another day anyway, and that day is Kingdom Come.

Serra: Which, evidently, is the last stop on the road to greatness and that stop is next as Aftershock is coming to a close here tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, good night and we'll see you at Kingdom Come IV!

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Who Wrote What:

Gelgarin - Styles/Greaves
Theo - Gentleman/Jacobs
Crock - Skinner/Dela Cruz
FalKon - Opening, Mayhem Title, KoH/BLT, Triple Threat & Backstage

Rep these fine gentlemen for their work and the boards should be up soon as we are finally at Kingdom Come! WOOOOHOOOOO!

I would like to wish everyone good luck with their RP's as we've extended the RPing time for the Kingdom Come round. You guys get half a week extra to RP and we get half a week extra to complete the actual KC PPV when we get there. Until then, happy RPing and be on the lookout for WZCW Magazine which will be out in a few days.