Distortion 9.1 - RESULTS

“Electrify” by Mute Math hits the speakers and pyro explodes around the HSBC Arena in Buffalo, New York as FMW Distortion 9.1 hits the airwaves!

Chase: GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING! Welcome to FMW DISTORTION 9.1! I’m your play-by-play man, and if you don’t recognize my voice by now, I’m Chase – former Tag Team Champion and member of Quick and the Dead along with-

Sam: Along with ME, Cactus Sam! Resident colour commentator extraordinaire and general all around violent maniac.

Chase: Well, we’re very proud to welcome you to a new era of FMW wrestling! Distortion is home to the most twisted and confused of stars, but there’s lots of action going on tonight! We have a showdown between Jack Eastwood and former FMW Champion Nick Bryson, and a Scaffold match for the Abandoned Championship featuring Skyler Striker and Hannibal Frost!

Sam: But right now we’ve got a Southern Strap match, so let’s get to it!

Ella Vader: Tonight's opening match is a Southern Strap Match! The two competitors will be connected by a strap, and the first man to touch all four corners wins! Introducing first...

"Dust in the Wind" by Kansas plays over the P.A. system, and out comes Big Ugly Guy followed by Bob Bobaganoosh.

Ella Vader: From Indianapolis, weighing in at 350 pounds, the BIG UGLY GUUYYYYYYYYYYY!

As B.U.G. gets in the ring, the tune changes to "Redneck" by Lamb of God and out comes Budd Darrell, along with an assortment of weapons, including a chair with the Confederacy flag painted on it, and a Confederate flag.

Ella Vader: And weighing in at 220 pounds, from the state of Alabama, "The Undying One" BUDD DARRRRRRRRRRELLLLL!

As Budd gets in the ring, he dumps his weapons in the corner and walks to the center of the ring to allow himself to be strapped together with B.U.G.

Chase: And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Distortion's first ever match.

Sam: It probably could do with more talent, but weapons and blood is always a good substitute.

Chase: Is that your excuse, then?

Sam: Watch it.

Chase: Heh. There's the bell, and immediately Budd tries to go for his stash of weapons, but I think he's forgetting that he's connected to B.U.G.! The strap isn't long enough, and he won't be dragging the bigger man anywhere.

Sam: An awesome way to start his FMW career.

Chase: And B.U.G, though amused for a second, just pulled back that strap and clotheslined the living hell out of Darrell.

Sam: That seems kind of ironic, no?

Chase: That it does, and now B.U.G. going over to Darrell's weapon stash, and Budd's just being brought along for the ride. B.U.G. goes to pick up Budd's steel chair, but is met with a kick to the back of the legs by Budd. A few more kicks now, and B.U.G.'s down on his knees. Budd sets the steel chair in between the turnbuckles, and he's just smashed B.U.G.'s head into it. Now Budd backing up, and it looks like Budd's trying to set up for a shining wizard to the back of B.U.G's head, smashing him face first into the steel chair.

Sam: Distortion's first crimson mask could be seen here. I, for one, am looking forward to that.

Chase: Budd charges, but B.U.G. ducks, and he kicks the chair!

Sam: Damn.

Chase: B.U.G. back up, and sweeps his good leg out from under him, right into a fluid elbow drop. He picks Budd off the mat, going for an Irish whip, but B.U.G. holds on right into another clothesline, and Budd just can't seem to mount any kind of steady offense.

Sam: The lack of weapons usage here is agitating me.

Chase: B.U.G. seems to be reading your mind, Sam, here comes the Confederate flag.

Sam: It would be funnier if he hit a black person with that.

Chase: Though slightly racist, I'd have to agree. Budd back up, but B.U.G. swinging for the fences here and blasts him square in the stomach. He moves to Darrell's side now, and a White Russian Legsweep with that Confederate flag across Budd's throat! Budd's down and choking, this could be over quick! B.U.G. now dragging Darrell to the outside, where Bobaganoosh as handing him something.

Sam: Ha, this is great!

Chase: A cowbell! B.U.G. brings himself and Budd back in the ring, and now B.U.G. is just hitting Budd with that cowbell all over his already battered body, and with every hit, the crowd is loving it more and more!

Crowd: More cowbell! More cowbell!

Sam: More indeed.

Chase: Budd has to be done now, and Bobaganoosh feels the same, he's calling for B.U.G. to end this! Military Press from B.U.G., into a Tombstone, the Bug Zapper! But it doesn't end by pinfall, only by touching the corners, sand B.U.G.'s about to do just that. He picks up Budd's unconscious body, and now is hauling him around the ring, like some kind of war trophy!

Sam: This doesn't really have a point at this stage in the match, where your opponent is knocked out.

Chase: But it gets pretty easy though, as he touches one, two, three, and the fourth corner. Simple as that.

Ella Vader: And the winner of this match, the BIG UGLY GUYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Big Ugly Guy (7.36 aps + 1.5 avs = 8.86 total)
Budd Darrell (0.0 aps + 0.5 avs = 0.5 total)

Chase: And B.U.G. wins Distortion's first ever match!

Sam: It would've done better with more cowbell.

The scene goes backstage to the interview area, where an all-too familiar face is standing there in Transylvanian garb, microphone in hand.

Bloodrose: Good evening, everybody! I am Bloodrose, Distortion’s own interview personnel! Introducing the victor of our previous match, ze BIG UGLY GUY!

The camera pans out to reveal BUG standing there with a big goofy grin on his face.

Bloodrose: So, BUG – you were victorious in your match tonight, no?

B.U.G.:: I was victorious over the racist man, yes.

Bloodrose: Any thoughts?

B.U.G.:: I am ecstatic to have the win. They call me the Big Ugly Guy but I think that is not good enough anymore. I am still the BUG but now people will call me the BIGGER Ugly Guy.

BUG walks off with a subtle grin and Bloodrose turns back to the camera.

Bloodrose: It’s a horrible night to have the superiority complex.

Ella Vader: Ladies and gentlemen, this next match is set for one fall! Introducing first, weighing in at 230 pounds, from Chicago Illinois, BLACK MARCUS!

“Matrix” by Edguy plays and the crowd boo as the arena goes black. The black begins a strobe pattern, and Black Marcus emerges to a chorus of boos from the crowd. He walks slowly to the ring, mask and all, looking rather menacing as white pyro explodes all around him.

Sam: Black Marcus... new addition to the FMW roster, I take it.

Chase: Indeed he is, and it’s very deceiving... that mask of his is pretty nasty looking, but he’s only six feet... go figure.

Sam: I’m sure we’ll find out whether he’s any good or not.

Ella Vader: And his opponent, weighing in at 225 pounds and from Cleveland, Ohio, APOSTASY!

A Day to Remember’s "I'm Made of Wax Larry, What Are You Made Of?" hits the PA and Apostasy hits the stage, walking down the ramp and hi-fiving a few of the fans on the way. Marcus remains stationary as Apostasy slides into the ring.

Chase: And here we have Apostasy, one of FMW’s youngest superstars and definitely ready to make an impact.

Sam: Yeah... the impact of his face on that mat.

The bell rings and the two men lock up. Both of approximately equal stature, neither gets an immediate edge on the other, but eventually Marcus pushes Apostasy into the ropes, sending him flying the other way, but Apostasy manages to duck a clothesline on the return and hits a flying elbow, sending Marcus to the mat.

Chase: Quick pinfall! One! Kickout!

Sam: No way he was gonna win the match off of an elbow.

Chase: No fear, Apostasy isn’t dismayed and he lifts Marcus, works in a full nelson hold and BANG! Full nelson driver! Another pinfall attempt! One! Two, kickout!

Sam: Apostasy on his feet again, hits the ropes, Marcus catches him coming back with an exploder suplex!

Chase: Marcus now in control, holding down Apostasy with an armbar and really hyperextending that arm.

Sam: He leans back on that hold and ha! He’s using the rope! Marcus holds the top in order to gain some strength on that hold!

Chase: Which is an illegal move, may I remind you, and the ref knows it too! He sees Marcus with that hold and now he tells him to release it! So he should!

Sam: That’s no fun. Marcus holds on for the four seconds he has before he gets disqualified and then releases – now that’s a technique!

Chase: That’s not technique, that’s lack thereof. Apostasy rolls away, holding that arm, and Marcus may have done some damage to it there, leaving the young fan favourite at a bit of a disadvantage, it’ll be harder to perform any lifts or strikes with that arm now! Black Marcus on his feet and he grabs Apostasy, whipping him into the ropes, and he grabs him on the return, Marcus with an overhead belly to belly suplex! What a move!

Sam: Apostasy tossed over like a ragdoll there, Marcus with a pin attempt, only a two count.

Chase: Marcus is really in control here, gets close to Apostasy and he locks in a Dragon Sleeper! The crowd are really not liking this!

Sam: I don’t understand why, Marcus is wrestling top quality stuff here!

Chase: Apostasy fading fast, his eyes are closing... I think this may be the end here! Marcus has that Dragon Sleeper cinched in tight there! The ref drops Apostasy’s arm once!

Sam: Lifts it again... a second drop! One more and it’s over! Third time... IT DROPS!

Chase: NO! Apostasy’s fist stopped at the last second and Marcus can’t believe it! Apostasy fighting back here! The crowd are banging whatever metal they can find, rallying behind Apostasy!

Sam: Elbow! Elbow again! Apostasy breaks free but Marcus pushes him into the turnbuckle! Marcus clambers on top and he’s ready to bring down the blows!

Chase: Goes for one fist but HANG ON! Apostasy moves away, sneaks UNDER Marcus still holding his legs and Marcus overbalances, SNAKE EYES! Apostasy leads it from there into the Alabama Slam, flicking over with the leg drop to the neck! Apostasy’s combination finisher TRIPLE PLAY has just been nailed perfectly! He goes for the pinfall! ONE! TWO! THREEEEE!

Ella Vader: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, APOSTASY!

Apostasy (8.05 aps + 1.2 avs = 9.25 total)
Black Marcus (7.99 aps + 0.9 avs = 8.89 total)

A Day to Remember play again over the speakers and Apostasy celebrates his victory, playing to the crowd on the turnbuckles.

Sam: Unfortunately quick ending there, but Black Marcus has just been outsmarted by Apostasy... bloody little kid thinks he’s king of the world.

Chase: Well, he has just gotten himself a win in the column and that’s going to improve his spot in the rankings! We’ll be right back!

“Friend Like Me” by Wayne Bergeron bursts to life and announces Christian G. Smitten’s arrival to the stage to a chorus of boos. He walks down to the ring with a microphone in hand, and upon entering it, he composes himself and waits for the disapproval to subside.

Smitten: Good evening, everyone. I trust you’re all enjoying Distortion enough, and if you aren’t, tickets are non-refundable, so bad luck.

This causes a further wave of booing towards Smitten, but he merely smiles and continues on.

Smitten: Now, I do have a very important announcement. As we all know, our dear, beloved Celeste is rather pregnant. As such, she is reaching a point in her pregnancy where it is necessary that she takes maternity leave to give birth to Jaro’s devil spawn.

The crowd laugh at this momentarily.

Smitten: Due to this leave of absence, FMW is left without an overseer. Luckily, my announcement will solve that. The Board of Directors were so pleased with my own observation at the conclusion to Ultimatum Two, and so grateful for my wherewithal to have the decision reversed and keep Alex O’Rion as Champion, that they have decided someone with a similar level of intelligence and credibility, as well as professionalism and sportsman-like attitude. So with the unanimous decision of FMW’s Board, I declare myself COMMISSIONER OF FULL METAL WRESTLING, CHRISTIAN G. SMITTEN!

The anger of the crowd is palatable, and boos rain down upon the former FMW Champion and now FMW Commissioner. Smitten smiles, slowly turning to the whole crowd with his arms outstretched.

Smitten: And for my first act as Commissioner, I have made one of Full Metal Wrestling’s most prolific signings to date. Please welcome the DAUGHTER of Tyrant: FAITH!

“Symphony of Destruction” by Megadeth rings its familiar sounds, the theme of TyranT himself, but it is the younger McKenzie who appears on stage, graceful as ever.

Sam: No frickin’ way.

Chase: Ty’s KID? Faith McKenzie? That’s HUGE!

Sam: Where the hell did she get cleared to wrestle?

Chase: I believe she was taught by Skyler, if I remember correctly. But to join FMW? It’s vicious, brutal. That’s a lot to ask of such a young lady!

Smitten: Faith will be making her debut at Distortion 9.2. Say goodbye to the nice people for now, Faith.

Faith gives a vicious look at Smitten before departing backstage, and Smitten waves to the crowd before following her with a smug smile to the disapproving crowd.

Chase: He’s treating her like garbage! This could turn nasty.

Sam: Not even the ladies are safe from FMW.

Chase: Well, that makes it time for our next match, I guess. But what huge news! Christian G. Smitten as Commissioner of FMW and the signing of Faith McKenzie!



The arena is bathed in darkness as "Clouds Over California" by Devildriver hits at an astounding volume. Blue lights strobe across the now cheering fans as Nick Bryson makes his way out from behind the curtain.

Ella Vader: This match is scheduled for ONE FALL! Making his way to the ring first, from Cleveland, Ohio, Nick Brryyysssooooon!!!

The ovation for the former champion ramps up tenfold as his name is heard and he slides into the ring.

Chase: Ultimatum is officially in the record books and now Bryson has the chance to redeem himself.

Sam: Against Havoc? After dropping the ball? I doubt it.

The noise level dies down for just a moment before "Mr. Jack" by System of a Down hits the speakers to a chorus of boos.

Ella Vader: Making his way to the ring, one half of the Undisputed Tag Team Champions, from Blackpool, England... Jack Eastwoooooood!!

Jack Eastwood, chain wrapped around his waist and with mic in hand, steps out from behind the curtain. With one hand holding the Tag Team title on his shoulder, Eastwood motions for the music to be cut and is soon obliged.

Eastwood: Y' don't 'ave much luck a' Ultimatum, do ya'? Nearly burnt at t' stake one year, losing yer championship t' next...

The crowd begins chanting "Hav-oc sucks", but Eastwood just rambles on through it.

Eastwood: An' then seeing yer dear cousin being mauled an' left fer dead. How's tha' playing on yer conscience? Ah’ wouldn’t worry ‘bout it. Tonight I'll be takin' ye' out fer good. An' unlike Original Sin? Havoc will be finishing t' job.

Eastwood throws down the mic, lets the title slip from his shoulder, and rushes down the ramp with a rarely seen burst of speed.

Chase: Eastwood not wasting any time, but neither is Bryson... suicide dive! Bryson just took out Eastwood and the bell hasn't even rung yet.

Sam: I'm guessing Bryson doesn't want a repeat of what happened to Drew Michaels at Ultimatum. Logical, but... it'll happen eventually.

Chase: The two big men are trading blows now, but Eastwood gets the upper hand and clotheslines Bryson to the floor.

Eastwood glances to the ref, who's signalling for the men to get in the ring. Eastwood smirks and unwraps the chain from around his waist.

Sam: Smart move. This is technically legal, because the match hasn't started yet.

Chase: Eastwood wraps that chain around Bryson's neck, and he's leading him with some force. A tug and pull... Bryson goes into the steel steps! That’s got to be painful!

Sam: Color me wrong. I thought this match was going to be a bit boring. But I must admit, I do like seeing a bit of blood every now and again!

Chase: No shit.

With one end of the chain still around Bryson's neck, Eastwood wraps the other around his fist and begins pounding away at Bryson.

Chase: After a brutal assault, Eastwood's throwing away the chain and rolling Bryson into the ring. Finally, we've got the bell.

Sam: And Eastwood has a distinct advantage. It pays to be ruthless.

Chase: We're seeing that advantage now. Eastwood whips the disoriented Bryson into the ropes and takes him down with a vicious boot to the jaw on the return. Eastwood standing tall over Bryson and just LAUGHING! He really is a vicious man, although anyone who has seen Ultimatum ain’t gonna be surprised at that.

Sam: We've got an early cover. 1... 2- Damn, not just yet.

Eastwood pulls Bryson to his feet and whips him into the turnbuckle.

Chase: Eastwood's shambling over to Bryson, but an elbow catches him off guard. There's another elbow and Bryson brings Eastwood down with a Fisherman's suplex.

Sam: And now we're at the boring stuff. Still, I guess it'll be exciting to see the last half of Sparta brought down.

Chase: It doesn't look like that's gonna' happen as Bryson hits a second Fisherman's suplex and transitions into a sleeper.

Eastwood fights for a second, but begins to give in as Bryson wrenches in the hold.

Chase: Eastwood looks like he's fading...

Sam: Eastwood always looks like he's fading. Is he drunk? Cause that'd be very commendable.

Chase: It's not condoned, but I wouldn't be surprised. Eastwood's fighting back, much to the chagrin of the crowd here, and there's a snapmare. Bryson's down and Eastwood capitalizes with a stiff kick to the back. Crowd clearly aren’t Eastwood’s favourites here, booing every kick to the back of their former FMW Champion. Eastwood's stalking Bryson, there's the right hand, but Bryson blocks! A kick to the stomach, Bryson backs Eastwood to the ropes, and here's a whip to the other side.

Sam: What's with the resilience? Why can't Bryson just die like a good dog?

Chase: And a HUGE sit out spinebuster from Bryson. There's the pin! 1! 2! And no! Eastwood kicks out and Bryson's looking frustrated.

Sam: He's got good reason to be.

Bryson pushes Eastwood away and gets to his feet. Grabbing a wrist, Bryson drags Eastwood over to the turnbuckle.

Chase: Bryson's grabbing the top rope and using it for an extra lift as he delivers knee strikes to Eastwood's ribs.

Bryson goes for one final strike, but Eastwood rolls under the bottom rope. Bryson grabs for Eastwood, but a shoulder to the mid section cuts off Bryson's offensive.

Chase: Eastwood's got Bryson by the neck and hits him with a fierce guillotine! Bryson's down, and Eastwood's sliding back into the ring.

Sam: And here's some havoc. Eastwood's choking the life out Bryson.

The referee slides over with the count. One...two...three...four...

Chase: Eastwood releases the hold and now he's stomping on Bryson's collarbone. I'm all for a little mayhem, but Eastwood is trying to dismantle the former champion.

Sam: He's doin' one helluva job.

Chase: Eastwood's got Bryson up and there's the powerbomb position... could this be the B.Y.O.B.!?

Sam: Nope. Shoulder breaker. Eastwood did say that Havoc was going to finish the job.

Eastwood looks over the fallen Nick Bryson and soaks in the overpowering boos from the crowd.

Sam: He's loving every minute of this. That makes two of us!

Chase: Eastwood's bringing Bryson to his feet, but Bryson catches a second wind! One right hand, two right hands, and Bryson's whipping Eastwood across the ring. Eastwood ducks the first clothesline attempt and they both catch one on the return! Both men are down!

No movement from either man has the referee begins the count.

Sam: Here's hoping Bryson knows what's good for him. Count reaches four...

Chase: Looks like he won't have a chance. Neither man is moving... wait, Bryson is stirring... but he’s got to break that count before ten if he wants to win it!

Sam: HavOc’s representative also doing the same, he’s getting there slowly! Seven! Eight!

Both men stumble to their feet and swing for each other.

Chase: BIG right hand from Bryson!

Sam: Eastwood returns the favor!

Chase: Bryson!

Sam: Eastwood!

The crowd begins to follow along with Bryson and Eastwood with cheers and boos, respectively.

Chase: Bryson with another right hand and Eastwood can't recover, right hand! A third right hand and Bryson jumps for the headlock... SNAP DDT OUT OF NOWHERE!! HE NAILED THAT ONE AND IT COULD BE OVER! Here’s the cover! One! Two! Thr-

Sam: YES! Eastwood holds on!

Bryson pounds the mat in frustration before grabbing Eastwood by the hair and signalling for the conclusion of the match.

Chase: Bryson wants the Sickle Touch, but Eastwood shoves him with strength to spare! The referee is down as Bryson collapses on top of him, isn’t that typical! Ref bumps... do we need to give them armour or something?

Sam: And now we see how Havoc truly operates.

Chase: Damn it, Eastwood's got that chain. He's throwing a steel fist, but Bryson ducks it! He's got him up... THE SICKLE TOUCH CONNECTS!!!

Sam: BEAUTIFUL! Now pin him!

Chase: Bryson's going for the cover, he's got the leg up, but the ref is still down!

Bryson holds Eastwood as the crowd counts to three and finally finds that the ref is just now getting up.

Chase: Bryson's abandoning the cover and he's calling for the Sickle Touch again!

Sam: Eastwood might've been in over his head this time.

Chase: Bryson's got him up, here it is... NO! Eastwood slips out of it and returns the favor... BOOM!!!! INVERTED STEINER SCREWDRIVER!!

Sam: EASTWOOD WITH THE PINFALL AND THE TIGHTS TO BOOT!

Chase: ONE! TWO! THREE! JACK EASTWOOD DEFEATS THE FORMER FMW CHAMPION!

Sam: Havoc reigns!

Ella Vader: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, JACK EASTWOOD!

Jack Eastwood (7.98 aps + 1.1 avs = 9.08 total)
Nick Bryson (8.33 aps - 0.3 penalty + 1.0 avs = 9.03 total)

"Mr. Jack" by System of a Down hits the speakers one last time as Eastwood rolls off of Bryson and rubs at the back of his neck. The referee tries to check on Eastwood, but he shoves away the help.

Chase: WHAT A VICTORY! Eastwood has beaten a former FMW Champ! That’s one to notch up in HavOc’s books, but I’ll be damned if he didn’t do it without cheating!

Sam: Cheat schmeat. Jack Eastwood stayed true to his character and used the situation to his advantage! Come on, in a federation like this you really expect good moral conduct? We’ve had people DIE due to actions that have occurred here. Get a grip on yourself, Chase, and welcome to a new era.

Bryson exits the ring, clutching at his head, and shambles up the ramp as Eastwood's music begins to fade.

Chase: And the boos rain down as- wait, there's Hannibal Frost with Eastwood's tag team title belt!

Sam: Frost RIPS Bryson's head off with that title! What a shot! Frost also staying true to HavOc tradition and celebrating with his stablemate! This IS HavOc!

Chase: And there's Eastwood joining Frost at the top of the ramp, mic in hand... I dread what they’re going to say now.

Frost: Just like Havoc ruled Anarchy, gents, so too will it rule over Distortion.

Frost drops the mic as "Reborn" by StoneSour hits the speakers and brings more boos from the crowd.

Chase: HavOc has just staked their claim over Distortion!

Sam: A beautifully violent day indeed!

Chase: There's only one man left that can stop this from truly coming to pass, because if Frost wins his match tonight against Skyler Striker in the main event, we may all be at the mercy of HavOc!

We are backstage in the locker room of Skyler Striker, who is lacing his boots when a friendly face appears at the door.

Striker: Well, if it isn’t Faith McKenzie.

Striker immediately stands and hugs his young protégé. Faith smiles at the sight of Striker, having grown rather fond of him during their training.

Striker: I’ve heard you’re to be joining us on Distortion. Finally getting to put some of that skill into action, hey?

Faith smiles and her hand slices through the air towards Skyler’s head, although he is quick to deflect it.

Striker: Sharp as ever.

Smitten: Come now, Miss McKenzie, we can’t have you running off!

Striker glares as C.G. Smitten stands in the doorway, shaking his head.

Striker: Leave her alone, Smitten. She doesn’t deserve-

Smitten: I’m sorry... can you hear that? That sounds like... Hannibal Frost’s music! You’d best head out before you forfeit your belt!

Striker shoots a death stare at CGS before reluctantly leaving the room. Smitten sits down, motioning for Faith to sit, although she remains standing in opposition.

Smitten: Apologies for the lack of an office, the dunderheads in charge of this operation have not yet organised my official detailing and such. However, I do have something to say to you before you wrestle your first match at 9.2. Your father was well-known here as a redneck fool, and in all honesty, he disgusted me. And you, Faith? You are blood-related to him. So by that association, you also disgust me. The only reason you are employed here is due to the influence of others. Thanks to blood.

Faith gazes at Smitten with rage in her eyes, but that same evil grin stares back at her from the FMW Commissioner.

Smitten: At 9.2, I will expel the McKenzie bloodline from this company by draining you of it. At 9.2, it will be Faith vs. C.G. Smitten in a FIRST BLOOD match. And your coward of a father will realise that sending you here was, like every other decision he has ever made, a bad mistake.

Smitten stands and leaves Faith alone, quiet in the locker room of her mentor until Smitten sticks his head back around the door frame.

Smitten: And by the way – in case Striker’s match tonight gets out of hand, if you interfere in any way pre, during or post match, you’ll be fired. Have a good evening.

Faith can only stare darkly at the doorway as Smitten leaves for good.

The ring attendants finish setting up the scaffolding on the outside of the ring, lots of piping and metal that all lead up to a platform above the ring which has, of course, been hanging there since the night began. The metal scaffolding is pressed right up against the ring ropes, locking the ring itself in, with a gap in the scaffolding at the entrance ramp and another on the opposite side.

Ella Vader: Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the MAIN EVENT! This match is a SCAFFOLD MATCH and is for the FMW ABANDONED CHAMPIONSHIP! The first wrestler to throw his opponent off the scaffolding above the ring will be declared the winner! Introducing first, weighing in at 234 pounds and from Memphis, Tennessee, he is the challenger, HANNIBAL FROST!!

“Reborn” by Stone Sour signals Frost’s entrance to the match, and red lights filter the center. Fire bursts down the entrance ramp and disappears again, Frost appearing at the top of the ramp with his traditional coat and hat. He makes his way down with an arrogant smile on his face, the crowd boo him the whole way down and continue to do so as he removes his extra attire in the ring. Frost pats the metal with a sick grin and rolls his shoulders, stretching.

Sam: Ah, old Frosty-boy. I remember the days when he was just a rookie.

Chase: Funny. I remember the day when he eliminated you at Mount Vesuvius Two.

Sam: Shut up. I don’t wanna have to repress any more memories.

Ella Vader: And introducing his opponent, weighing in at 210 pounds and from Perth, Western Australia, he is a two-time and current FMW Abandoned Champion, SKYLER STRIIIIIIIKER!!!

“Shooting Stars” by Cauterize blasts over the speakers and there is a burst of applause and cheers from the sell-out crowd. The stage flashes brightly with lighting, and Frost looks nonchalantly at the entrance way. The audience die down as Striker does not appear immediately, however the music abruptly ends when a commotion occurs behind Frost in the darkened ring. The lights go up and Striker is already in the ring, assaulting Frost with a steel chair, having snuck through the back gap in the scaffolding.

Chase: Haha... now if that’s not ironic I don’t know what is. Striker pulling one of HavOc’s own tricks on Frost there and now he’s got the advantage as we start this Abandoned Championship match!

Sam: He hits like a pansy.

Chase: Well, it’s working for now, Frost is face down on the mat trying to avoid those blows from Striker, he’s really not letting up!

Sam: Obviously no disqualifications in a match like this, where it’s weapons for everyone and blood will flow!

Chase: Frost rolls out of the ring, and he slips through that scaffolding on the outside, making him hard to chase by Striker, who smiles and doesn’t seem concerned.

Sam: Not hard to see why – look at that blood on his chair! Frost is already wearing crimson!

Chase: Striker throwing the chair away, but he’s not ready to climb the scaffolding yet, he’s daring Frost to enter the ring!

Sam: Frost grins, Striker’s unarmed now. What a stupid move to throw away that chair!

Chase: He’s begin honourable, something you’d have no idea about.

Sam: There’s no honour in cowardice! Frost brings himself back towards the ring and slides under the ropes, Striker offers a hand to lock up.

Chase: Frost puts his hand up, grabs Striker’s, Striker offers another but Frost spits at him and kicks him in the gut! Striker doubles over, Frost spins him over and there’s a reverse DDT!

Sam: Frost drags Striker towards the ropes, hooks him for a suplex, I can see where this is going!

Chase: Hannibal pulls Striker up for a vertical suplex and SLAMS his back against that metal, then brings him back down, transitioning it into a sitout facebuster!

Sam: Vicious combination and Striker looks like he’s in quite a bit of pain!

Chase: Hannibal slips outside the ring, heading through the back gap to grab the Abandoned Title belt that Striker left there on his way in!

Sam: He slides back inside, Striker on his knees, Frost runs at him and CLOTHESLINES Striker with the belt, bringing him down with a legsweep as well!

Chase: Hannibal Frost now kneeling down, grinding Striker’s face against that belt! He’s got a mean streak!

Sam: He is a member of HavOc, you dumbass. He’s got more than a mean streak, he’s evil!

Chase: Frost picking up the downed Striker, has him over his shoulder... this could get dangerous!

Frost, using Striker like a bullet, rams him head first into one of the scaffolding pipes. Striker screams in pain and Frost doesn’t let go, doing it a second time and then a third before turning around and landing a dominator-style move on Striker in the ring. Striker is bleeding profusely from the forehead, leaving both men only a few minutes in and already running red.

Sam: Lovely thinking from Frost there, taking a break to breathe and rub that blood out of his eyes.

Chase: Well, the Abandoned Championship isn’t just a no-DQ, weapons match – it’s a match that is decided according to the whims of the Wheel of Misfortune.

Sam: Which leads to lots of fighting and lots of pain! It’s the best belt around!

Chase: And both men fighting for it right now. Frost picks up Striker again, no pinfalls or submissions, and Frost doesn’t ram him this time, he just pushes him through one of the holes in the scaffolding, leaving Striker a mess lying amongst that metal piping!

Sam: Don’t know what Frost has planned, but it can only be good!

Chase: Frost goes over to Striker’s legs, which are sticking out of the scaffolding into the gap above the ring, but Striker grabs him with them! Striker pulls Frost in and smacks his head against the metal with only his legs! What muscle strength!

Sam: Striker’s body still lying in that metal mesh of piping, but he pulls Frost in AGAIN and smacks his head a second time! Frost’s blood stains the metal and Striker now moving himself out of the scaffolding, to the outside where he begins climbing it!

Chase: Is he going to go to the top already?

Sam: Striker clambering to the top, he doesn’t go out onto the swinging platform, he’s standing above the edge of the ring on that scaffolding!

Chase: He wouldn’t...

Sam: The Abandoned Champion wouldn’t jump? Hah! He would too! He’ll go to any lengths to defend that belt!

Chase: He’s got to be thirty feet high!

Sam: AND HE JUMPS! STRIKER JUMPS OFF THE TOP OF THE SCAFFOLDING AND NAILS A 630 DEGREE SENTON!

The crowd erupt to their feet and look through the scaffolding to see the mangled mess of bodies that is Frost and Striker. Neither man moves beyond twitching, and the crowd begin a ‘HOLY SHIT’ chant.

Chase: WELCOME TO DISTORTION! That’s what it’s all about! No fear at all in the eyes of Striker, who has just jumped thirty feet and nailed a picture perfect 630 Senton on Hannibal Frost!

Sam: And there’s guaranteed to be another thirty foot fall tonight! Now this is entertainment!

Chase: As the crowd continue chanting, Skyler gets to his knees very slowly, but he’s recovering and now he’s got the advantage!

Sam: Oh? He has to get Frost up onto that central platform yet! That’s no small feat.

Chase: The Full Metal Abandoned Champion now on his feet, he’s dragging Frost to the ropes and he throws Frost onto the piping! Striker leaves him in the dust though and starts climbing again!

Sam: No intention of jumping this time, the idiot wants to end it! He’s gutsy to risk his title like that!

Chase: Maybe a gutsy move will be what it takes to retain that belt...

Sam: Striker climbing but Frost has spied him and he’s following! Striker makes it to the top of the piping!

Chase: Frost is snapping at his heels, although neither man is particularly fast, striker’s jump took a lot out of both of them!

As Frost makes it to the top, Striker goes to grab him but Frost pokes him in the eyes and sends Striker reeling towards the edge of the piping platform. It is only via a lucky step that Striker falls onto the central platform, which swings dangerously although Striker is momentarily safe as Frost follows him.

Chase: Both men are now on that center swinging platform! It’s only attached to the roof via chains, so there’s no solid support, it’s all a matter of balance! Whoever throws his opponent off of it first will win the match and possible cripple his opponent! The Abandoned Title is won or lost here!

Sam: Out of curiosity, what is that platform made of?

Chase: Well, I wouldn’t trust its integrity past a few blows...

Sam: They could both fall, it’d be fantastic!

Chase: Well, Frost has the advantage thanks to that thumb to the eye, and he lays a few fists into Striker, just weakening him! Striker getting to his feet, Frost has him near the edge but Striker is holding that chain for dear life!

Sam: And it’s literally his life on the line!

Chase: Striker with an elbow! Frost is off-balance and he stumbles back, grabs the chain on the opposite side and now both men rush at each other, they’re locking up with no support and they’re thirty feet in the air!

Sam: They throw each other off the lock-up, Frost with a right!

Chase: Striker with one in return!

Sam: Frost!

Chase: Striker!

Sam: Frost! Frost! Fro-

Chase: Striker ducks the punch! Kick to the gut of Frost! He’s setting him up for a move, Frost with a HEADBUTT TO THE GROIN!

Sam: Goodbye to any future kids for Striker!

Chase: Striker releases his hold on Frost, and Frost puts him in the same position! He’s going for the Freezer Burn!

Sam: STRIKER COUNTERS! HEADBUTT TO THE GROIN!

Chase: He replies the exact same way Frost did! Striker with a cheeky attack there and now Frost releases the Champion!

Sam: Striker doubles Frost over and lifts him, not wasting any time with preliminary holds now!

Chase: Striker lifts... AND HOLY SHIT! HOLY MOTHER LOVING SHIT! SKYLER STRIKER NAILS THE RADICALITY 102 ON FROST AND SHATTERS HALF OF THE PLATFORM! FROST HITS THE MAT THIRTY FEET BELOW!

Sam: THAT’S AWESOME! THAT WAS SICKENING! FROST MUST BE DEAD!

Chase: AND STRIKER, STILL STANDING TALL, RETAINS THE BELT! HE WINS THE MATCH!

Ella Vader: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and STILL the FMW Abandoned Champion, SKYYYYYYYYYYYYYYLER STRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKER!

Skyler Striker (8.55 aps + 1.1 avs = 9.65 total)
Hannibal Frost (8.43 aps + 1.0 avs = 9.43 total)

“Shooting Stars” by Cauterize plays over the arena and Striker slowly makes his way down the scaffolding to a standing ovation from the crowd, who are chanting ‘That was awesome! That was awesome!’. Frost, surprisingly, shows some signs of movement in the ring, pulling himself to the ropes without any assistance.

Sam: What even WAS that?

Chase: Radicality 102, Striker’s tribute to Chris Austin! Cross-Arm Gutwrench Powerbomb into a Sitout Facebuster!

Sam: Yeah, I don’t care – that was a BONE-CRUSHING fall!

Chase: Frost is coping well, but it’s Striker here who has emerged as victor and still the Abandoned Champion! His first successful title defence in FMW!

Sam: Frost is in the corner, bleeding and a mess... Striker did well to put him down.

Chase: And look at this! Striker goes over and offers a hand to Frost! To an enemy! That’s sportsmanship!

Sam: Unrequited, mind you, but Frost takes his hand and Striker lifts him to his feet.

In the center of the ring, Striker, with blood running down his forehead, and the Abandoned Title on his shoulder, offers his hand again, this time to shake, but Frost pay him no heed, spitting blood at Striker. The crowd boo and Striker’s music dies out, and Striker gets in Frost’s face, Frost only offering him a sickening grin.

Chase: That’s to be expected of Frost, I suppose, but this could turn even more violent!

Sam: HOW?

Chase: Oh geez... maybe like that?

There is a wave of boos as a steel chain whips Striker’s back, and the Champion cries out in pain. Jack Eastwood has rushed the ring and Frost laughs as Striker goes to his knees.

Chase: Totally uncalled for! Does no-one remember watching the last HavOc assault? Drew Michaels is in hospital, damnit!

Sam: HavOc lay down the rules for Striker! No-one escapes them!

Eastwood continues laying into the back of Striker with the chain, with lines of blood starting to emerge where the chain hits. The crowd boo and Frost eventually joins in, kicking Striker in the gut and mocking him. Frost lifts Striker up and Eastwood wraps the chain around his neck, and pulling him to the piping, Eastwood climbs up a few feet so Striker is hoisted into the air, strangled by the chain.

Chase: You’re going to KILL him! You idiots! Where’s the official, the security, the new Commissioner, for the love of all that’s holy?

Sam: No-one cares for Striker now! He has no friends on Distortion! So begins the reign of HavOc!

Chase: Striker is literally being choked to death before our eyes. This is disgusting.

Frost laughs as his foe is strangled, but his expression changes as “It’s Not My Time” by Three Doors Down plays over the arena to the cheers of the crowd.

Sam: What the-

Chase: Is that who I think it is?

A figure sprints down the ramp, not stopping at all, diving through the ropes and laying a vicious blow to the head of Frost.

Chase: IT’S LEON CAPRICE! LEON CAPRICE IS HERE!

Caprice wastes no time in controlling the weakened HavOc member, knocking Frost to the mat with a thunderous spinning lariat. Eastwood, now alone, releases Striker from the chain and jumps down to the ring to confront Caprice, but Caprice has already begun his run and hits a spectacular enzuigiri on Eastwood. Caprice helps Striker to his feet and the two look at each other in the ring for a second before they shake hands quickly and grab the two recovering HavOc superstars.

Chase: Leon Caprice has made the save and there’s no time wasted for cohesiveness between the two! It’s student and teacher here, Caprice a former pupil of Striker! Striker has Frost, Caprice has Eastwood, DOUBLE FINISHERS! Exile to Oblivion on Frost and the Timewarp on Eastwood! Striker and Caprice have left HavOc on the worse end of a defeat tonight!

Sam: He’s an Ammunition star!

Chase: I guess he’s not anymore! Leon Caprice has saved Skyler Striker here tonight and look at them celebrate on top of that scaffolding! That’s all the time we have for tonight, folks – Leon Caprice joins Distortion, and it looks like he’s on the side of our Abandoned Champion, Skyler Striker! On behalf of myself and Sam, see you at DISTORTION 9.2!

We fade to the logo from a final shot of Striker and Caprice on top of the piping, Caprice lifting Striker’s arm with the Abandoned Championship held tightly in his grip.