Anxiety 6.1 - RESULTS

The pyro rages and “We Die Young” by Alice in Chains the Anxiety theme, blasts throughout the expanse as the camera pans over the sold out arena of Anxiety 6.1 LIVE from Sydney, Australia, for cYnical Appreciation Night.

Rabbi: I’m the Rabbi.

Kross: And I wish I wasn’t here.

Rabbi: And we’d like to welcome you to Anxiety 6.1, as well as the cYnical appreciation night.

Kross: Something is going to go horribly wrong.

Rabbi: And without further adieu, I’ll hand you all to Cherry for the first match.

Cherry: Our first match shall be the Intergender Tag Matchup! Introducing first, the team of CHRIS AUSTIN AND RIIIIIIIIILEY SCOTT!

James A. Johnston’s Radical bursts out of the sound system to the equivalent of a murmur from the sold out crowd. Chris Austin and Riley Scott both made their way down the ramp together, strutting with an air of arrogance surrounded them.

Cherry: And their opponents, CIARAN KENNEDY AND BEEEEEECCA ROBERTS!

Evolution by Korn replaces the James A. Johnston number over the speakers, however, the crowd reaction doesn’t seem to change a great deal. It seemed the crowd refused to get behind either newbie team.

Cherry: This match is scheduled for one fall, any intergenderal combat shall result in a disqualification.

Rabbi: And there’s the bell, the Ladies starting this off.

Kross: This is thoroughly unstimulating.

Rabbi: Snapmare by Becca, Riley sweeps the feet from beneath and mounts her--- Oh my!

Kross: Annoying Breeder one pounding Annoying Breeder two’s head against the mat whilst the Jew gets a raging hard one because it just so happens Annoying Breeder one appears to be in a slightly provocative position.

Rabbi: Riley with the cover, but a kick out at one. Both ladies to their feet--- No, dropkick by Riley puts Becca down again. Riley stomping away but…

Kross: Annoying Breeder two rolls Riley through; kick out at one. Snore.

Rabbi: Both women up again, Becca going for a clothesline, Riley ducks under and makes the tag to Chris!

Kross: PUNCH HER CHRIS. PUNCH HER IN THE OVERIES!

Rabbi: I think Becca’s too brave her own good, she slaps Chris! Chris proceeds to frogmarch Becca over to her own corner and force a tag to Ciaran who almost cuts Chris in two with a spear!

Kross: Finally, some action, Ciaran pounding down on Chris with fists of fury. HA! Chris moves his head, Ciaran punches the mat!

Rabbi: Ouch.

Kross: Look at the baby whinge.

Rabbi: Chris with a legsweep into a rear headlock, dragging Ciaran up with that headlock, BULLDOG!

Kross: I take back my previous statement, this is still dull.

Rabbi: Chris keeping the pressure on with an armbar now, but Ciaran gets to the ropes.

Kross: Ciaran is a girls name. Perhaps Annoying Breeder one should deal with him.

Rabbi: Well, that ‘girl’ just got a sharp kick to the midsection and floored Chris with a DDT. Pin attempt, but Chris was on the ropes so no count.

Kross: Girly man is a NEWb. Ha; "A Rush of Radicality" to Ciaran.

Rabbi: Nice Leg Lariat Cross Armbreaker. But Ciaran bounces back up. LEVEL UP?!

Kross: Girly man misses the superkick, Chris spins him around, German Suplex. Bridge;

Rabbi: One, Two, and a kickout. Ciaran however, is still somewhat dazed, he’s getting to his feet.

Kross: Girl don’t know where he is… "San Jose Smackdown!”

Rabbi: That innovative finisher from the Radical one.

Kross: I forgot that Chris completely sucked Ho-style’s dick.

Rabbi: Cover, One!

Kross: Annoying Breeder two attempting to make the save.

Rabbi: Two!

Kross: Annoying Breeder one stops her with a flying Cross Body.

Rabbi: THREE!

Cherry: Your winner, via pinfall, CHRIS AUSTIN AND RILEY SCOTT!

Chris Austin and Riley Scott (7.33 aps + 5.78 aps + 1.6 avs = 14.71 total)
Ciaran Kennedy and Becca Roberts (5.65 aps + 5.38 aps + 0.2 avs = 11.23 total)

Kross: Well, that was boring. Who’s next?

The camera cuts suddenly to a backstage green room. Of course funded by the Original Sin juggernaut, seated there are the reigning World Tag Team Champions the Quick & the Dead and their new "mentor" in Korran Halycon, all of which are being booed with intense disdain from a hot crowd. Each man is paired with a lovely buxom young woman (and for Korran there are two) while scantily clad fleshly delights cater the food service that sits at a large buffet line. Chilled bottles of vintage Dom Peringon line lavish spreads of smoked turkey and ham. Beluga caviar is being spread on thin wheat waifs and fed to three of the prominent members in Original Sin's Anxiety branch merely soak in the delusion of their own permanence.

And as for the belts themselves? They are hoisted in a display case for now, honoring both the past champion and his current protégés who bask in the glow of excess. A panning of the camera shows that other temptations are common place in this setting; women touching, molesting, and groping one another while members of the trio's entourage indulge themselves in mounds of "Roxanne" that would put Mr. Montana to shame. The whirl of color, flashing lights, and the scent of decadence is suffocating and in voyeuristic fashion, Halycon seems uninhibited by the cameraman's presence or even legitimately worried of the consequences for his actions. Seemingly devoid of morality and absent of any sympathy, he smiles wide to raise a glass of Louis XIII in a toast while a smoldering Romeo Y Julieta's embers lash at the screen without bashfulness.

Halycon: A toast to our success gentlemen! Tonight, we celebrate SoCal style. So kick back and enjoy yourselves. It's a celebration, bitches!

The respective glasses of Cactus Sam; a gnarled wild man who looked completely out of place with a bandaged hand wrapped around a bottle of Harvey's that would occasionally disappear behind a thicket of bushy beard and Chase; slightly more acceptable by helping himself to a glass of the champagne but all the while chain smoking through a Marlboro Red. Lacking tact and perhaps not caring, the champions rose their drinks dutifully while Halycon appraised them mirthfully, slapping a neurotic looking Chase playfully on the back while a busty brunnette with green eyes kept attempting to capture Sam's attention.

Halycon: What's the matter, Sam? You gone queer on me?

Cactus Sam: ...Piss off, Yank. I can't be diddled to mess with these trollops before a match.

Halycon: Christ you two are in worse shape than I thought. I never thought you two would go pussy on me. Sheesh..I must've picked the wrong dudes to carry on MY legacy of Tag Team Greatness.

Chase shot a furiously dark look in Korran's direction, flicking the remainder of his cigarette as his feet. Halycon was all but amused by this gesture which seemed to infuriate Chase even more. Seething, he pushed away a trashy looking blond who kept massaging his chest.

Chase: Let's get one thing straight, you bloody ponce. We're no one's pawns and we ain't carrying anyone's legacy but our own. What we did to Vengeance and Vizzini wasn't for you, the glory of Original Sin, or any one else but us doing what was best for us by us.

Cactus Sam would grunt inarticulately in agreement with his comrade though he seemed to be getting swayed in his attentions by the brunette who had taken to straddling him. It could now be seen that this particular woman was dressed as a Catholic Schoolgirl. Halycon could do nothing but beam and begin to clap as he puffed on the cigar and chuckled huskily through the abating smoke.

Halycon: Bravo! Well said! And this is why you two should celebrate! You're here now, Sam and Chase. You're in the limelight and soaking up the airtime. If there's anything that I understand, it's that being on top as a team is rigorous, painful, and bothersome. But there are other..benefits. Other..rewards that you can share. 'Spread the wealth' as they say.

As this was being said, the woman who had mounted Sam had removed her top and covered her chest with only her hands, leaving Sam to smile toothlessly while gazing longingly upwards at the mysterious beauty. Meanwhile, shapely Asian twins had made there way to Chase to pluck his cigarette from him and relight another, causing it to drop and find its way into the folds of his pants. Quickly, he'd pat it out as Sam slowly tilted his new companion to the side to continue smiling at Korran who all but smirked knowingly.

Cactus Sam: Y'mean to say we get this..all the time?

Halycon: Exciting isn't it? Like one big high from the score of blow you've ever taken or like waking up to Christmas every fucking day. This is the reward for winners, boys: the Player's Circle. But it's just a sample to whet your appetites for what is to come for the small price of loyalty to Original Sin. Granted, we had some bad luck towards the end of the show but we're not here to talk about that. We're here to celebrate because there is a lot to happy about!

Voice: You see here's where I'd have to cut your bullshit off, b'ye. Because the only things in front of me show me that you should be begging for mercy right now so I wouldn't kill you.

Enter Adrian. The pissed off spawn of Hitler had been standing there all along; he had been watching and studying his so-called allies. In the end, there is, as ever, a look of permanent bereavement on his face. Slowly, he walked into the room while Korran quickly pours another glass for his newest companion.

Halycon: And how's our fav-or-ite little sociopath doing today? Maim any innocent children lately?

Adrian: Cute..but no. Children and women are hardly satisfying to taste. You? I'd smash your skull and not bat an eyelash about it and feast on the gray matter that leaked from your cranium.

A hush falls over the celebrations as Korran merely chucklea. Adrian becomes incensed, throwing his fist into the solid pane of glass that served as the surface for the coffee table, shattering it and causing him to bleed as several shrieks filled the air. With his opposite hand, he swings it around to clutch Korran by the throat. The women scatter and while they are on edge, the Quick & the Dead do nothing to help their new mentor.

Adrian: Let's get facts straight, you son-of-a-bitch. I should be the Abandoned Champion right now. That belt was made specifically for me. Not some retarded hick that can barely string together enough brain cells to properly pronunciate any word in the English dictionary. And if we lose this match because you're too busy enjoying separation from your not-so heterosexual life partner, I swear on whatever God you've turned your back on I will strangle the life out of you. I refuse to lose another match!

Korran's hands slide up to Adrian's wrists as he pulls them away. Still smiling a perplexing, leering smile, Halycon does not seem shaken by Adrian's threats. Instead, as soon as he is freed, he pours himself another glass of Dom Perigon and sips it through pursed lips, still as nonchalant as ever. Just as it appears Adrian was about to explode, however, Korran lifts up a hand and spoke.

Halycon: Please, Adrian. If there's one thing that I know about, it's tag team wrestling. If there's another? It's beating and embarrassing Homocide. You want the Abandoned Championship? Fine. I'll let you score the pinfall. God knows that I did enough sacrificing to make Sublime look good. I'm used to it. Afterall, I'm a team player.

Adrian only grunts in response, he turns quickly on his heel and leaves. Meanwhile, the camera zooms slowly for a close-up of Halycon who smugly keeps sipping from his glass and smoking on his cigar as the segment fades to commercial.

Rabbi: Welcome back! Seems the commercials couldn’t have ended soon enough! You’re just in time for the next match! Calvin Xavier is already in the ring after his usual entrance, having been escorted down by some kind of black militia members! As we speak they are already returning up the ramp leaving Xavier to taunt to the raging crowd… just listen to that audience… they have no love for Calvin whatsoever…

Kross: There ain’t one of those AK bearin’ bastards who are tougher then me. Calvin should just hire me if he wants protection when he walks down that ramp, I would have dealt with Michael James for him at Deathrow… but then in all honest truth, Xavier probably couldn’t afford my services.

Rabbi: Is that why you’re reduced to commentating next to yours truly? And anyway… I’ve long moved on from the black militia members. We’re on to Xavier now! If your so super fucking duper earning an impossible wage, do your job! Keep up will ya?

Kross: Shut your face! Why do ya’ have to be a damn Jew anyway? You could have been really cool guy! You had it all goin’ for you… but your punk, big nosed ass had to go and throw it all away didn’t ya?! What made you become a Jew exactly?… Was it over a woman? I bet it was over a woman wasn’t it?!

Rabbi: Hey… Don’t you start at me! I was born this way… You don’t see me making any comments about the colour of your skin do you?

Kross: Meh…

Rabbi: Yeah… Meh!

Kross: So Calvin then… didn’t he get his ass handed to him at the Preshow for Deathrow?! Does he really think he can make a difference this time around? You want my say?… You want the truth?! You can’t handle the fuckin’ truth! Calvin Xavier is gonna take it to Michaels this time… I bet my mother’s golden teeth on it!

Rabbi: Quite an interesting statement…. But Michaels has defeated Xavier and so he has proven to us that he has it in him. Not to mention the importance of this match! Who ever wins will qualify for the big Mount Vesuvius that is fast approaching.

Cherry: And his opponent; from Chicago Illinois, weighting in at 225lbs… he is the K-9 MICHAEL JAMES!

”Everybody Knows" by Leonard Cohen hits the PA system at high volume as the crowd let out a good cheer for Michael James as he appears at the top of the ramp.. There is no fancy flashes or explosions, just Michael James himself as he walks down to the ring with his head down, looking focus and determined. He slowly enters the ring, brushing past Calvin before climbing a near by turnbuckle, playing for the crowd as she shouts out loud enough for all the hear...

Rabbi: You can feel the anger between both men in the ring tonight. Deathrow is still fresh on both of their minds… and Michael James is one up over Xavier after claiming victory in the Baltimore Prison Match! That was such an amazing match… I can’t help but wonder if we will see the same kind of action tonight.

Kross: Hell no! This is just a standard match! If you’re expecting Deathrow all over again you’ve got another thing comin’…

Rabbi: The referee looks content to start this match. He’s signalled… and there’s the bell!

Kross: Damn! Michael James wasn’t even finished flaunting his stuff to the fans and Xavier is landing in some strikes at the back of his head! That’s one badass ref for starting a match when James wasn’t even done!

Rabbi: It should be a well known lesson now that turning your back on a man like Xavier is never a good idea. I think James was just trying to be cocky and now its cost him that early edge in the beginning of the match.

Kross: Xavier can smell this. He can just smell that mountain… all he needs to do is kick the ass of James and he is there!

Rabbi: Heck… I can smell it myself!

Kross: Granted… I did just unleash a fart to be reckoned with… That’s probably all that is…

Rabbi: Aww… Ahh god! That… that’s awful! You dirty son of a bitch!

Kross: You know you love it…

The ring is left shaking from the powerful impact of an impressive reverse DDT from the turnbuckle as James is left squirming in pain from the sick landing. Xavier does not let up from his attack, dragging James upwards to his feet by his hair, before sending a few stiff knee’s against his ribs, forcing him up onto his feet before locking in a tight headlock. James tries to struggle free, but Xavier clinches the hold tighter before dashing towards the turnbuckle, slamming James head hard into the corner before landing in a bulldog on the rebound.

Kross: Heh… and these guys used to be Tag Team partners!

Rabbi: So did Matt Dunn and Nick Lion… and look what become of them two rising stars!

Kross: Yeah… one became the Artard and the other is the Bitch King! They were so much better off before the Bitch king had to go and ruin it all for the pair… I liked them better when they were lucky jobbers who somehow managed to taste some gold…

Xavier continues his barrage of attacks… looking to take some sweet revenge after what happened in the Baltimore Prison match. He lifts up James for a suplex, stalling the move as he holds the K-9 up in the air for an impressive amount of time. Without warning, Calvin tosses James from his shoulder, falling into a sit down position as James is sent to the ground face and chest first before a quick pinfall attempt is made. The ref doesn’t even make it to two however which clearly upsets Calvin as he begins to rant away at the ref, arguing that his count was far too slow.

Kross: This ain’t gonna win him any matches

Rabbi: It sure isn’t… but you have to confess it was an impressive start! It takes both power and great agility to pull off a drop suplex like that!

Kross: Hey Rabbi. I know ya like going on about your wrestling knowledge… but no one gives a shit! We all saw what happened… we all know it was pretty decent… just leave it at that!

Rabbi: But…. But I like to show off my knowledge and experience…

Kross: I don’t care! Just stop with the info and do your god damn job!

Rabbi: …

Kross: How about that bitch!… Yeah!… who ain’t doin’ there job now huh?!

Without warning, the table suddenly crashed down as both Rabbi and Kross jump back from their seats. In the midst of Kross’s argument, James had managed to turn the match around having countered an irish whip before back body dropping Xavier whilst his back was against the ropes. Xavier is now lying in a heap of broken wood and splinters as he groans out in pain. In turn, James suddenly vaults himself from the ring, spring boarding from the ropes to crash down on the already grounded Xavier pulling off a Shooting Star Leg drop which leaves the crowd in complete awe.


Rabbi: Whoa!!

Kross: My table! You bastards wrecked my table!

Rabbi: Michael James just landed his finishing move from up on the ring! How the hell did he manage to pull that off!

Kross: Didn’t you hear me?!… He destroyed my god damn table! You know how long it took my roadies to set this up for us?!

Rabbi: I think Jaro is more concerned about the condition of his Anxiety stars then the well being of a cheap replaceable table.

Kross: Cheap?! I bought this table myself to suit my needs you inconsiderate son of a bitch!

Rabbi: I see movement… Michael James is slowly beginning to come around… The referee has long began counting for both men outside of the ring…

1

2

3

Kross: You had best stay down James! You had best stay down after what you just did to my table!

Rabbi: Michael James is struggling up to his feet… Still no movement from Calvin Xavier

4…

5…

6…

7…

Kross: Damn it! Michael James is up! And he’s stumbling towards

Rabbi: Still no activity from Calvin Xavier… He looks completely out of it after that high risk move from James came crashing down right over him!

Kross: It can’t end like this can it?!

8…

9…

Rabbi: Michael James is back in the ring! Calvin still hasn’t moved… this match is over!

10!!!

Cherry: And the winner by countout, MICHAEL JAMES!

Michael James (5.08 aps - 0.1 penalty + 1.2 avs = 6.18 total)
Calvin Xavier (0.0 aps + 0.3 avs = 0.3 total)

Kross: Son of a bitch. My mothers golden teeth! Michael James is goin’ to Mount Vesuvius!!!

Rabbi: That is two major consecutive victories Michael James has claimed over Calvin Xavier! There is no mistaking it… Michael James is going to Mount Vesuvius whilst Calvin Xavier is missing out on the chance of a life time!

Kross: Wait… Wait god damn it! It can’t end like this!

Rabbi: Unfortunately it has Kross… It might not have been the most straight forward of victories… but Michael James is officially the first Anxiety star to qualify for the Mount Vesuvius match up! We can only wonder which other big names will follow him… Stay tuned… this night hasn’t even begun yet!

As the match ends, the scene cuts to the Lair of the Flame, aka, the General Manager’s office, where in his candlelit darkness cYnical glowers over a monitor watching the first Anxiety Mt. Vesuvius qualifier, obviously not pleased at what has happened, thus far.

cYnical: Hmph. That match was hardly appreciative of me at all! I must take steps to rectify that at once!

He raises to his feet and pulls his cloak in front of his body, with a dramatic whoosh that snuffs all the candles in the room, and rushes out the room, camera following close behind. He tracks through the halls in a huff, until reaching the stage entrance as Calvin Xavier limps into the back.

cYnical: You, foolish peon, step into… over this way.

Xavier: Not in the mood, fire-honky.

cYnical: Do not defy me!

A couple of Anxiety Security agents grab the exhausted Black Pharaoh by the shoulders, and drag him along behind cYnical. They reach an unmarked door, and Xavier is placed in a chair, with leather straps on the arms, as he is secured cYnical, loads a DVD into the tray of the DVD-Flatscreen combo across from Xavier.

Xavier: What is with you, what are you doing to me?

The screen loads up, as flicker becomes a flame.

Xavier: No, NO, dear sweet Allah, NOOOOOO!

cYnical: Yes, yes! You will appreciate me, and all my legendary moments!

cYnical leaves with, as the screen flickers, a voice recognizable as Stone screams, “AAAAH, you shot me, with a Fireball, in the EYES! We cut to commercial.



Although the typical Coliseum of Rome combatants were trained gladiators, convicted criminals and prisoners of war, occasionally glory-seeking individuals volunteered to fight. Often they overrated their skills and suffered the consequences ...

... At least one emperor ordered his guards to toss unsuspecting spectators into the arena, for various reasons. The victim may have previously angered the emperor. Or, the victim may have been a complete stranger but the emperor disliked the way he was behaving in the Coliseum of Rome. Sometimes the emperor's motive was simply to amuse himself by randomly selecting a spectator to meet his death in the arena.

It is the Emperor's will that 30 Full Metal Wrestling superstars compete for his amusement. Thirty men will vie for the torch that sits atop Mt. Vesuvius. The winner receives a FMW Championship at Ultimatum.

The greatest match in the history of professional sports returns...

MT. VESUVIUS II

The scene opens backstage with Mortus and his manager, Abdul, strolling briskly through the backstage area.

The pair walk in complete and utter silence, leaving superstars and backstage staff in their wake.

Cynthia included…

Cynthia: Mortus! Mortus! Comments on your match up with a man who has bested your Brother twice?

Abdul: No comment.

Cynthia: Buh---

Abdul: I said no comment! My Master is above speaking to the likes of you, and I have more pressing concerns than to give a statement on his behalf.

And before Anxiety’s lovely backstage correspondent could get another word in, the two robed figures disappeared around a corner; right to cYnical’s office door.

Mortus enters, Abdul, however, waits outside.

cYn: Mortus! No cheap tricks? No looming from the shadows?

Mortus: No, Wizard. We have come to… Firstly apologize for our rash statements before Death Row, and also to congratulate you on not only your past achievements, but the successful capture of the Abandoned Title.

cYn: Seems you’ve smartened up some, aye Son? Perhaps CAK should take to Chain-Punching all those misguided fools out there.

Mortus: Perhaps…

cYn: Well, anyway. I’m glad to see you have come to your senses, thank you Mortus. So, are you here to appreciate a true g()d of wrestling further, or will you be leaving to prepare for your match with Chris Black tonight?

Mortus: As a matter of fact, We do have a purpose for our lingering. We think that you will find you still owe Us for removing Styxx…

cYn: Ah. Yes. That. Well, I suppose I’m feeling generous, and I’m beginning to think you’ll never cease your plaguing of me unless I grant your favour, so what is it you desire.

Mortus: A spot in the Mount Vesuvius match at Circus Maximus. In writing.

cYn: Is my word not good enough?

Mortus: Quite frankly, no. We do not put it beneath you of using a Bait-and-Switch against Us.

cYnical grumbled, however he swiped up a statement sheet with a ‘From the Desk of Anxiety’s General Manager’ footer at the bottom as his phone rang.

cYn: Drat! Yes. Hello?

…

Jason?

…

What do you mean I’ve crossed the line?

…

John mother fucking Derrick? But he won’t win.

…

What do you mean my d()g won’t win?

…

Of course I value my job. Look Jason, you have my word that TyranT won’t fail!

cYn: There. Now, where did I put that Statement sheet?

Mortus: You didn’t pick it up; the phone interrupted…

cYnical shrugged, picking up a statement sheet, he began to fill it in before signing just above where his name was printed.

cYn: There you go my boy. Once again, thank you for your praise; it’s good to see another young man filled with such potential stepping to the right side.

The scene fades to black as Mortus exits the office, handing Abdul the official statement sheet from the desk of the General Manager of Anxiety.

Cherry: Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from the other side of the tracks, weighing in at 268 pounds, CHRIS BLACK!!!!

The revving of a motorcycle can be heard as “Feed My Frankenstein” by Alice Cooper hits. The song grows louder and overwhelms the engines until one last massive roar is heard from the engine and Chris Black rockets out onto the stage on his Harley. Riding down to the ring, Black carries his hammer over his back and props his Harley against the announce table, followed by the hammer.

Rabbi: I must point out, Kross, that Black has not lost a match since he fought Adrian at 5.2. I don’t think it even shows respect to call him a rookie anymore – he’s fought Adrian, defeated Lictor, and if he defeats Mortus here tonight, he may just cement himself into Anxiety history.

Kross: He’s had a whole gang of bikies behind him the entire time, it’s no surprise he’s winning.

Cherry: And his opponent, weighing in at 218 pounds, from the Immaterium, MORTUSSSSS!!!

The arena lighting fades down to almost darkness as fog fills the arena and the temperature drops. White Zombie’s ‘Real Solution #9’ hits the P.A. Mortus steps out from backstage after the last line of the spoken word intro of the song, (‘You’re going to get up and burn an X in your head’) and a lightning strike to the ramp before him. Mortus approaches the ring accompanied by his High Prophet, Abdul Alhazred.

Rabbi: An elaborate introduction indeed.

Kross: I think he deserves it, Rabbi. Mortus has proven to be a strong competitor.

Rabbi: He doesn’t have the greatest record, in honesty. But he’s a monster nonetheless and Black should definitely be on his guard.

Kross: And don’t forget he’s got cYnical’s papers! Whatever was in them.

Rabbi: True, true. Psychological warfare is just another part of Mortus’ arsenal.

By the time the commentators are done, Mortus is ready, and Black grins as the new challenge faces him. The bell rings and without hesitation, Black charges at Mortus, who simply ducks the blow and superkicks the turning Black.

Kross: Nice shot from Mortus!

Rabbi: Indeed it was, technically executed to perfection… now Mortus follows it up with a standing moonsault…

Kross: And misses! Black rolls out of the ring and Mortus gets to his feet, he charges over the top rope!

Rabbi: BLACK CATCHES HIM! POWERSLAM INTO THE STEEL STEPS!

Black releases the body of Mortus as the clanging of the steps fades. Mortus collapses to the ground and Black takes a few steps back, before running and delivering a thundering knee to the head of Mortus. Mortus’ neck bends awkwardly and Black picks him up, rolling him into the ring.

Kross: That was a vicious attack from Black, totally uncalled for!

Rabbi: I beg to differ. Black actually chose his spot and used Mortus’ dive as an opportunity, and that’s why he’s been so successful over the past few matches.

Kross: Well, nevertheless, Black going for a pin attempt now.

The pin reaches one and a half before Mortus kicks out and Black gets to his feet, hoisting Mortus up as well.

Rabbi: Black takes a step back, he’s going for the Lights Out! He raises the leg…

Kross: Counter! Mortus intercepts the move and throws Black to the mat by his leg, and he’s going for a submission!

Rabbi: Shades of Ric Flair with the Figure Four leg lock!

Kross: Black hasn’t taken any damage to the legs yet, so he probably won’t tap, but he’s definitely gonna be feeling the burn after this one, Jew-boy!

Rabbi: Black is desperately reaching out for a rope but he can’t find one!

Kross: This is great entertainment! A six foot seven man can’t even reach the ropes in the ring!

Rabbi: That’s a bit unfair, look at the pressure Mortus is putting on Black in the leglock! Black is screaming for all he’s worth, trying to break the hold!

Kross: Where’s your biker pals now, Black?

Rabbi: Black doesn’t need them! He wants Mortus alone, he wants revenge, and he wants to prove that he can beat Mortus as well as Lictor!

Kross: Black’s almost got the ropes! Look!

Black’s fingertips brush the ropes but the referee cannot see as Mortus yells out to distract him. Pulling Black into the center of the ring, Mortus applies as much pressure as possible and second by second takes the legs out from the larger Black.

Rabbi: Black is pulling! It’s man vs… well, versus something here and from the looks of it, Black might just pull through and get to the ropes!

Kross: Mortus gives it one last attempt…

Rabbi: And Black wins the fight! He has the ropes and the referee tells Mortus to let go.

Kross: But he’s taking full advantage of that four seconds to break the hold there! That’s real strategy, Rabbi. You’ve got to make every second count.

Rabbi: And Black pulls himself to the corner, holding his left leg, which has now been severely damaged by Mortus.

Kross: It’s why Mortus is such a force here on Anxiety, Rabbi! He’s mechanical, thinks everything through with true logic. If you take out the legs of the giant, you have the advantage.

Rabbi: Nevertheless, Black’s never been one to give up easy, and he pulls himself to his feet!

Kross: Mortus is standing there, just looking at Black, daring him to use that big boot, but if Black does, he’s probably going to injure himself more!

Rabbi: Black is glaring at Mortus and he takes a step closer, and a VICIOUS right hook! Black takes Mortus to the mat and Mortus looks like he’s been shot!

Kross: Black lifts Mortus, whips him, Mortus hits the ropes and he rebounds, no, he hangs on and Black has attempted the boot!

Rabbi: And look at him go down! Black goes to the mat with one good leg and he’s holding onto his left one like it’s about to fall off!

Kross: Strategy again! Mortus is just luring Black, getting himself into perfect position and holding back at the last minute! This match is over, Rabbi!

Rabbi: It’s not over until the fat lady sings.

Kross: I didn’t know your wife was a singer!

Rabbi: Sigh. Back to the match and Mortus pulls Black up, and a Russian legsweep in the center of the ring to Black, who is felled like the last tree in a forest.

Kross: Nice metaphor there.

Rabbi: Thanks. Mortus throws a stomp or two to the leg of Black there, further taking him out, and Mortus is climbing the turnbuckle!

Kross: You know, Rabbi, you can’t forget that Mortus has already qualified for Mount Vesuvius. He’s a dark horse to win it at the moment, especially if he performs like he is now.

Rabbi: True, and he’s in the air! Mortus lands a 360 degree stomp on the leg of Black and can you hear Black roar! His biker friends must be getting worried by this point.

Kross: So even you admit that he’s losing!

Rabbi: There’s no doubt. But people have come back from greater circumstances.

Kross: True that. Mortus now going for a pin, and he’s got one, two… yes!

Rabbi: No! Black gets the shoulder off the mat and Mortus goes straight back to work with a few elbows to the leg and then he’s off!

Kross: Mortus hitting the ropes, going for a baseball slide to knock Black out of the ring…

Rabbi: OUCH! Black rolls sideways and that huge forearm smashes Mortus dead in the groin! And he follows it there with a rollup pin! Black might come away with the win here!

The ref breaks the count at two, seeing Mortus with his hand on the ropes, and Black slides out of the ring, taking a quick breather and massaging his leg before rolling back in, where he meets Mortus face to face in the center of the ring.

Kross: Western-style showdown!

Rabbi: Definitely! Who will strike the first blow, though?

Kross: Mortus with a left hand, and Black with a right!

Rabbi: And again! These two behemoths of the ring are dueling it out, but Mortus has the harder time punching upward! He’s a good seven inches shorter according to the tale of the tape!

Kross: This isn’t boxing, but it damn well could be! Black with a right hand and a left jab!

Rabbi: And to the bridge of the nose! There’s the left jab, a left hook across the temple, an uppercut palm to Mortus! And the matslam! Black pulls off the Black Out combo! This one could be over, but it looks like while Mortus is down, Black is recuperating!

Kross: The ref is counting them!

Rabbi: One, two, three…

Kross: …four, five…

Rabbi: And it’s a six count before Black is on his feet! Well, as much on his feet as he can be.

Kross: He heads over to Mortus… and a vicious elbow to the side of Mortus’ head, Mortus now on his knees!

Rabbi: Mortus just keeps getting up, Black can’t believe it!

Kross: And Mortus is up! Black goes for a hard punch but Mortus ducks it and he swipes his hand into the back of Black’s left leg! He takes the giant down and Mortus now throwing a flurry of blows at Black, Black is dazed and Mortus with an off-the-wall shining wizard!

Rabbi: Black hits the mat, Mortus goes for the turnbuckle and he’s up top again, but he’s waiting! I know where this is going!

Kross: Black gets up slowly, but he shouldn’t! Look at Black just struggling to stand! And he doesn’t even know Mortus is waiting for him up top!

Rabbi: Black turns, Mortus jumps! Three-eight-double-six! Mortus connects with that split legged dropkick and Black is on the mat again! Mortus is on him straight away and the pinfall is here!

One… two… no! Black has a shoulder up!

Kross: What? Bull! Count again, ref, that’s got to be three!

Rabbi: Black’s just not the type of guy to say it’s over before it’s actually over! He rolls away and Mortus tries to catch him, Black’s on his knee and Mortus lets him get up, big mistake as Mortus is sent flying with a vicious clothesline! Black has gotten his second wind!

Kross: Mortus stands but toe kick from Black, and you can see the grimace on his face as he pulls Mortus in and lifts him onto his shoulders!

Rabbi: Black’s leg is shaking! But just look at that strength! Black yells out in fury and he won’t let his leg give in! Black lifts Mortus… AND HE’S WALKING MORTUS TO THE EDGE!

Black yells out and at the edge of the ring, Mortus tries to overbalance Black, but he can’t move the behemoth he is perched on top of.

Kross: You’re gonna kill Mortus, you moron!

Rabbi: I don’t think he cares! He lifts Mortus and POWERBOMB TO THE FLOOR BELOW!!!! THAT’S GOT TO BE THREE OR FOUR METRES FROM BLACK’S SHOULDERS!!!

The crowd begin chanting ‘Holy shit! Holy shit!’. Black falls down in the ring, holding his leg, and Mortus looks to be out of commission for good. With Black smiling inside the ring, the ref begins counting Mortus out.

Kross: Come on Mortus! You’re supposed to be some sort of God thing! Pull a Jesus on that bitch!

Rabbi: As much as I’d love to see what you envision as ‘pulling a Jesus’, Kross, I think that Mortus is out of this one! Black took Lictor down twice and now he’s going to take out Mortus as well! Inhuman Creation, or what it once was, has been torn apart by the Ace Rocker!

Kross: The ref’s at five! Is this a double count?

Rabbi: No it’s not! If Mortus is outside the ring, he’s the only one being counter and the ref now at seven!

Kross: Eight! Come on Mortus!

Without warning, the lights flash out and the ref’s shout of ‘nine’ is overwhelmed by crowd boos. The power comes back on a second later and Mortus is now lying in the ring, still down but now unable to be counted out.

Rabbi: What in the name of the old testament was that?

Kross: I don’t know, but Mortus is still in this!

Rabbi: The ref now beginning to count both men out, and this could end in a draw here!

Kross: He’s already at two, but Black is getting up slowly yet again! This guy’s unbelievable!

Rabbi: For a rookie to take on Mortus and show as much strength as he has is unheard of! But that’s what he’s doing, Kross, and you’d better believe Black will accept nothing less than victory here!

Black leans against the turnbuckle, panting, and Mortus is already on one knee. Black sees Mortus and hits the ropes, but his attempt is foiled by Mortus who ducks under it and nails a perfect chop block, bringing Black down yet again.

Kross: This has got to be over soon! Mortus won’t die, no matter how much Black throws at him!

Rabbi: Mortus has Black, and he delivers a knee to the stomach and goes around Black, and grabs his arms, he’s got the straight jacket on!

Kross: He’s got the arms crossed, and here it comes – NECROMANCY!!!

Rabbi: It’s over! Mortus hits his finisher and Black is down!

Kross: There’s the ref, 1…2…3!

Rabbi: NO! BLACK KICKS OUT!!!

Mortus stands and looks at the ref furiously. The ref tells him ‘no three count’ and Mortus looks back at Black, hoisting him up and turning him around again, ready for a second Necromancy.

Kross: This will put him out of commission for good!

Rabbi: I hate to admit it, but where one Necromancy might have failed, a second is bound to succ- WAIT! BLACK PULLS MORTUS’ ARMS OVER HIS HEAD!

Kross: No way…

Rabbi: Mortus is dazed, he turns around, Black’s already on the rebound, ROCKER’S WRATH!!!

Kross: ROCKER’S WRATH!

Rabbi: Black has Mortus down, the pinfall! One!!

Kross: Two!!

Rabbi: THREE!! CHRIS BLACK HAS DEFEATED MORTUS!!

Cherry: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, CHRIS BLAAAAAAAAAACK!!!

Chris Black (7.8 aps + 1.1 avs = 8.9 total)
Mortus (7.73 aps + 0.8 avs = 8.53 total)

Kross: I can’t believe it! Chris Black has taken down both Lictor and Mortus within a few shows! What has the world come to?

Rabbi: It’s come to be Chris Black’s time! He’s got to be thrilled right now! And good for him!

Black celebrates in the ring and slides out, hobbling a little on his left leg from Mortus’ earlier attempts to take him out. Nevertheless, the cheers keep flowing as Black makes his way up the ramp and heads behind the curtain.

FUCK YOUR iTUNES! ANXIETY THE MUSIC HITS THE STORES THIS WEEK.

ANXIETY THE MUSIC
1. “We Die Young” – Alice in Chains (Anxiety Theme)
2. “Red” – King Crimson (Adrian)
3. “Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos” – Public Enemy (Calvin Xavier)
4. “All My Life” – Foo Fighters (Korran Halycon)
5. “For The Love Of God” – Steve Vai (Peter Saint)
6. “Sons of Plunder” – Disturbed (Cactus Sam)
7. “Feed My Frankenstein!” – Alice Cooper (Chris Black)
8. “Real Solution #9” – White Zombie (Mortus)
9. “Symphony of Destruction” – Megadeth (TyranT)
10. “Did My Time” – Korn (Chase)
11. “Everybody Knows” – Leonard Cohen (Michael James)
12. “The Pretender” – Foo Fighters (Skyler Striker)
13. “Gimme Shelter” – The Rolling Stones (John Derrick)

“Flesh into Gear” by CKY hits over the speakers, as out through the curtain walks the current FMW Tag Team Champions, Cactus Sam and Chase, who are accompanied by Korran Halycon. The three men slowly saunter down to the ring, drawing boo’s from almost everyone in the crowd. Korran enters the ring first, sliding under the bottom rope, before being joined by Sam and Chase. Sam then walks over towards the ropes and grabs a microphone from one the stage hands. He motions for the crowd to cease his booing, so that he may speak, his movements however, do not stop them from booing.

Sam: Shut the hell up!!!

The crowd continues to boo.

Sam: Now I’m sure that almost everyone of you witnessed what occurred at Death Row, and I’m also fairly certain that you’ve got a few questions. I’d even be willing to bet, that most of you want to know, just why Chase and I turned on Vizzini and Vengeance, and aligned ourselves fully, with Original Sin!

The boo’s grow even louder as a smile crosses Sam’s face.

Crowd: Assholes Assholes Assholes!!!

Sam: Like any of you wouldn’t have done the same thing? Chase and I, we saw the light. We saw who is going to come out ahead in this so-called “war,” and it sure as hell isn’t going to be the pitiful “resistance.” It’s not going to be the “Drew Michaels, or the Alex O’rion’s”

The crowd pops for the mentions of those two men…

Sam: No! It’s going to be the Eric Scoprio’s the Korran Halycons, the TyranT’s who are going to come out ahead!

The crowd boo’s at the mentions of each name…

Sam: Put quite frankly, Chase and I desire to be on the winning team! I mean, who doesn’t? We were tired of being “pawns” for The Resistance. We desire the power and the recognition that not only comes from being a Champion, but also comes from being a part of the elite group of individuals, known as the Original Sin!

Chase and Sam share a high five while Korran looks on smiling.

Sam: We also wanted to make sure that we retained the one thing that matters to use most… our Tag Team Champions!

As he says that, both Sam and Chase hold up the belts high into the air, showing them off to the crowd.

Sam: We busted our ass to get these belts, and we want to make damn sure that we hold on to them. Aligning ourselves with Original Sin, and with Korran, a true tag team legend, was an easy decision for Chase and myself.

Korran nods his head as Sam continues.

Sam: Our lust to remain champion outweighs any moral quandaries that those other cowards subject themselves too. We don’t care about what’s right or wrong, all we care about is power and Championships!!!

The crowd boo’s them again here.

Sam: Now, as for my match tonight, well I’ll just put it like this. Chase and I already killed the SoCal Connection.

The crowd boo’s as Korran surprisingly begins to clap his hands…

Sam: And tonight, we will kill one-half of The Vendetta, because we ARE the tag team division, and tonight we will prove it by ridding it of its final semblance of competition!!!

Sam tosses the microphone to Korran, as the crowd hurls insults at all three men.

Korran: That, ladies and Gentleman, is a wrestler, maturing into a Champion before your very eyes. Both have tasted the sweet taste of Gold, and will do whatever it takes to hold on to it. You both can think me for that guidance guys.

Sam and Chase clap in the direction of Korran, as he smiles.

Korran: Now, I heard you mention something Sam, while you were addressing the audience. I heard you mention, that you “killed the SoCal Connection”

Sam nods as Korran continues…

Korran: Sublime was my best friend, and you two, you crushed his windpipe, and forced him to retire, forever leaving the wrestling business. You did that to my best friend. And do you know how that made me feel???

Sam and Chase glance at each other, with inquisitive looks.

Korran: IT MADE ME FEEL GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Crowd: Fuck you Korran! Fuck you Korran!

Korran: Finally I was out of the shadow I’ve been stuck in my whole FMW Career! Finally I was rid of the man who considered himself to be Number one in SoCal! Do you know what’s its’ like dealing with a constant ego-manic every day of your life? Do you? Do you know how much I hated going along with his stupid schemes, such as wearing body-casts and other immature stupid acts in order to get out of wrestling? Sublime was nothing but a coward, always afraid to get what he deserved, to get what he had coming to him.

The crowd boos have grown even louder.

Korran: You can boo all you want, but your going to hear the truth. And the truth is “Friend” that I orchestrated the attack on you!

A collective gasp is heard in the arena.

Korran: that’s right, your retirement was premeditated. I went to Sam and Chase and told them to finish you off. No longer was I going to be in your shadow! I was always the guy who carried SoCal, while you took credit for it, and I was tired of it! Deep down I knew I was the better man, and now I’ve proved it. When we took the ring to announce your retirement, it was all I could do to keep from laughing while you stood there with tears screaming down your face. My only wish, is that right then and there I would have lifted you off your feet and delivered a Halyconic Hammer with such fury that you’d never wake up again. My only regret, is that is wasn’t me that FINISHED YOU OFF!!

Korran pauses here and smiles as the jeers continue.

Korran: And now, I will reap the rewards!

As he says that, he moves towards Sam and Chase, grabs each by their free arms and lifts them high into the air, as they hold up their Tag Team Championships in their other hands, as the shot fades to commercial.

The scene opens in the middle of the arena, the ring now surrounded with a large steel cage covered in barbed wire. A small door is held open by the referee as Buster Cherry stands on the ramp.
Cherry: The following match is a Mount Vesuvius Qualifier and it will be contested in a Barbed Wire Steel Cage Match whereby the only way to win is to escape the cage.

Rabbi: I blame those bloodthirsty Australians for matches like this. Will they ever learn?
Kross: When you’re a country whose only contribution to the arts is Crocodile Dundee, you’ll do anything for attention. But, one must realize, to be a success in this industry, one must walk through the valley of the shadow of death, or something.

Rabbi: With the knowledge that my broadcast partner’s skin color is now obvious to the blind as well as the deaf, it’s of note that this match will act as a guaranteed position within the second Mount Vesuvius match, granting a shot at the Full Metal Championship, Drew Michaels won last year and it was the match that flung him to the stars and above and just look where he is now.

Kross: Jobbing to Eric Scorpio. A good place to be, surely.

Rabbi: Quiet, you.

The pair are silenced by the opening riff of “Sons of Plunder” by Disturbed. Red lights flood the arena and cover the crowd in their sick crimson glow as Cactus Sam steps out onto the ramp.

Cherry: Making his way to the ring, from merry ol’ Birmingham in England, weighing in tonight at two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, one half of the tag team champions, CACTUS! SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!

Rabbi: And Cactus Sam, looking completely ravaged is making his way towards the cage.
Kross: Look in his eyes, he doesn’t care in the slightest about the match-type, it doesn’t faze him in the slightest, this is the mindset possessed by a member of Original Sin, this is the power they possess. The ability to disregard life and death and only think of utter domination. Inspiring, is it not?

Cactus Sam steps into the cage and takes his place in the middle of the ring, walking from side to side, checking the strength of the metal.

Rabbi: I’m getting word from backstage that Cactus Sam spent much of the time in the lead-up to this match telling anyone who would listen that tonight would be the ‘death’ of Vengeance. Care to speculate what he means?

Kross: He probably wants him dead.

Rabbi: Ah.

The music then cuts to “Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down as flames explode on the entrance ramp, causing the audience to reel back. From the middle of the flames walks a red figure, recognized as Vengeance.

Cherry: And his opponent, from parts unknown, at a weight of two-hundred-and-forty pounds, VENGEANCE!

Rabbi: Are you a gambling man, Kross? Kross: Depends on the situation.

Rabbi: Well what exactly are Vengeance’s chances here tonight?

Kross: Snowflakes in hell have an easier time.

Rabbi: No doubt the man is an underdog but he is an amazing one at that, a man of great speed and athleticism, he is never one to doubt.

Vengeance steps down the ramp and into the cage, the door is locked behind him, and a bell is rung.

Rabbi: And the match is underway.

Cactus Sam sprints towards Vengeance, head-first, slamming him into the wall of the cage.

Kross: Brutal.

Rabbi: Cactus Sam is the first cab off the ranks here tonight and he’s not taking any liberties whilst doing it, harsh strikes to the face of Vengeance and he’s between a rock and a hard place in the early moments of this match.

Kross: Replace ‘rock’ with ‘Cactus Sam’ and ‘hard place’ with ‘barbed wire covered cage walls’ and you’d be more to the money.

Rabbi: Cactus Sam with an irish-whip sending Vengeance over to the other side but Vengeance recovers at the ropes, mere inches from the barbed wire.

Vengeance turns around and then runs back to Cactus Sam sending a dropkick into his face.

Kross: And the tree falls down. Cactus Sam proving what Rabbi already knew, that size doesn’t matter.

Rabbi: We can’t all be of African descent.

Kross: Well you can’t, Jew.

Rabbi: At least I can get a job off my last name alone, it’s good to be a Weinstein. But that’s besides the point as Cactus Sam is currently feeling the brunt of Vengeance’s stiff right hands.

Kross: Cactus Sam doesn’t seem to feel it, he’s just getting right up!

Cactus Sam stands up, amidst the flurry of punches, and then grabs Vengeance by the mask.

Rabbi: Cactus Sam smashing Vengeance’s head against the cage door! When he said he was going to kill Vengeance, he wasn’t going for euthanasia; he was going for as painful a death as possible.

Kross: And Chief Inspector Obvious tells the audience what they know all too well. Vengeance is pushing Sam off and now the pair are exchanging blows in the center of the ring, neither man giving an inch they’re both giving it all to get the other man down.

Rabbi: But Vengeance dodges a stiff haymaker from Cactus Sam and rebounds off the ropes with a dropkick to the back of Sam’s head! And Vengeance is running to the wall and climbing the fence!

Kross: The barbed wire from the outside is cutting away at his fingers; his hands are starting to bleed. No amount of pain is going to slow Vengeance down, he’s got his opening and this could be it.

Rabbi: But Cactus Sam is stirring and getting back to his feet. He can see what Vengeance is trying, turn around, Vengeance!

Cactus Sam runs to the ropes and grabs Vengeance by his stomach flipping him backwards with a huge German suplex off the ropes to the middle of the ring.

Rabbi: And Vengeance was absolutely impaled in the center of the ring and it looks like Cactus Sam didn’t come out of it unscathed either. His arms are hanging limply and he seems to have trouble getting up.

Kross: A fall like that can send you off the spectrum, it blurs your vision in the short term and can take years off your career in the long. Cactus is hurting but if I know him, he won’t let it affect him in the slightest.

Rabbi: Original Sin marches on.

Both men begin to show signs of movement in the center of the ring. Vengeance rolling to his side in the recovery position, while Cactus Sam sits up with a sadistic grin plastered upon his face.

Rabbi: And Cactus Sam is the first man up and he's staring like a madman at Vengeance.

Kross: Vengeance is up.

Rabbi: And here comes Cactus Sam! Going for the Six Shooter! This is it! This is over! He's...

Kross: ...Kicked Cactus Sam in the skull.

Rabbi: Vengeance is flying by the seat of his pants and he's escaped Cactus Sam's clutches. Stiff strikes are sending Sam into the corner, come on Vengeance!

Vengeance's strikes send Cactus Sam into the corner. Vengeance then grabs Cactus Sam by the hair and grates his head against the barbed wire cage door bringing a thick flow of crimson upon his head.

Rabbi: And for the blind fans or simply the fans checking the recap on fullmetalwrestling.com, the first lashings of blood have been sighted and they are on Cactus Sam! Vengeance is definitely feeling his second wind here tonight and he's absolutely unleashing upon Cactus Sam.

Kross: It's all on the line, Cactus Sam has said he wants Vengeance dead, he's saying he'll be the one to deal the killing blow, Cactus Sam wants to destroy the Tag Team Wrestling of FMW so The Quick and The Dead can reign supreme.

Rabbi: And Wrestlebet.com currently have the odds of him succeed at three to one.

Kross: All this dot-com you've got going and someone might think you're bored enough to be web surfing during this match.

Rabbi: I tried some estrogen tablets and my ability to multitask improved by one-hundred-and-twelve percent.

Kross: Good to know.

Vengeance grabs Cactus Sam by the head and runs forward, hitting a heavy handed diamond-cutter into the center of the ring.

Rabbi: Vengeance taking Cactus Sam to the floor and now another burst of speed and Vengeance with a lionsault type maneuver from the ropes to Cactus Sam.

Vengeance stands up and begins to climb up the wall of the cage.

Rabbi: He may have it here!

Kross: Cactus Sam is down and the blood flow is increasing, this could be it.

The camera closes in on Cactus Sam, whose body is now shaking violently.

Rabbi: Is he? Is he laughing?

Kross: The man is drenched in his own blood and his opponent is about to win, why is he laughing?

Rabbi: Look outside the ring, Kross. Looks like Cactus Sam brought some assistance.

The camera cuts to show Chase standing outside the ring, brandishing a large steel chair. Vengeance continues to climb the wall until Chase begins to slam the steel against the chain link wall of the fence, knocking Vengeance back into the ring.

Rabbi: And now Chase is moving towards the cage door and trying to pry it open.

Kross: If he gets in there, Vengeance is finished, no doubt about it.

As Chase pries away at the door, Romeo Vizzini jumps from the crowd and attacks Chase from behind, pulling him from the door and onto the ground before pummeling him with a series of stiff right-handed blows.

Rabbi: And Romeo Vizzini coming from the crowd to even the numbers. Looks like those complementary front-row seats the local Italian Dry-cleaning Establishment requested have come in handy.

Kross: Fiendish Italians.

Rabbi: And in the ring, Vengeance and Cactus Sam are again at square one, fighting in what could only be described as a drunken stupor, both men throwing kicks and punches but the pair are obviously addled from both the length of the match and the injuries received.

Kross: That’s a mouthful.

Rabbi: That’s what she said.

Kross: No, she said, that looks like a circumcised miniature hotdog wiener.

Rabbi: Sorry, I get mixed up.

The crowd begins their schtick of cheering for each of Vengeance’s blows and booing for Sam’s as in the outside, Romeo begins to get the upper hand on Chase, beating him with his own chair.

Rabbi: Wait. Is that someone else in the crowd? Korran Halycon is jumping over the guard rail and making a beeline for Romeo Vizzini!

Kross: Korran Halycon with a running boot to the head of Vizzini and Vizzini just crashed into the side of the cage.

Rabbi: And now Korran has that chair... Stiff shot to the head of Vizzini, he’s finished, out cold. Vizzini is out cold! How typical is it of Original Sin to do this? To bring this many people just to ensure the win?

Kross: Atypical. Original Sin only came because Vizzini did.

Rabbi: Ugh. And now Korran is motioning to Cactus Sam.

Sam notices Korran out of the corner of his eye, then, quickly tosses Vengeance into the corner to gain a few moments of rest.

Rabbi: Korran throws the chair over the cage! There’s a chair in the ring and Cactus Sam has his eyes on it!

Kross: Game. Set. Match.

Rabbi: Cactus Sam with a running shot over the head of Vengeance and this is over!

Vengeance slumps down in the corner, Cactus Sam throws the chair down and places his hands into his pockets pulling a pair of gloves out of one pocket; and a pair of wire cutters from the other.

Rabbi: More cheating! Cactus Sam bringing cards from the sleeve, and he’s climbing the cage with no problem at all.

Cactus Sam uses the wire cutters to cut through the barbed wire lining the cage, he then climbs over with no problem at all and jumps down to the floor.

Cherry: And your winner... CACTUS SAM!

Cactus Sam (8.05 aps - 0.1 penalty + 1.6 avs = 9.55 total)
Vengeance (7.85 aps - 0.1 penalty + 0.2 avs = 7.95 total)

Rabbi: Cactus Sam has won! Chase and Korran Halycon are celebrating on the outside of the ring and Original Sin’s dominance is once again being expressed.

The cage door is opened by the referee, paramedics are on hand to tend to Vengeance, but before they can enter the cage, Cactus Sam pushes them out of the way and steps in.

Rabbi: What the hell? Cactus Sam is back in the ring! And he’s still brandishing those wire cutters, what’s he going to do?

Kross: He’s climbing the cage once more and pulling down the lengths of wire, and now he’s strangling Vengeance with them!

Rabbi: Somebody has to stop him, Vengeance is in trouble! He’s being choked out of life by Cactus Sam right now.

Kross: Sam said he was going to kill Vengeance and it looks as if he’s a man of his word.

Cactus Sam wraps the barbed wire around Vengeance’s neck again and again before climbing the cage once more. Still holding the barbed wire rope connected to Vengeance, Cactus Sam jumps out and over the cage once more, causing Vengeance to be strung up by his throat, slowly being hanged, on the side of the ring.

Rabbi: Oh. My. God.

Kross: Vengeance isn’t moving.

Rabbi: ...Somebody get in there, right away.

The scene cuts to the FMW logo.

The crowd noise fades out as we go backstage live to Anxiety's ever vigilant reporter, Cynthia Adams. The audience noise returns to a high-volume cheer directed towards her interviewee, Skyler Striker. Striker’s garb differs from his norm – his hair is combed and over his now-familiar orange ‘Forgiven’ shirt and beige trousers is a long brown trench coat. Cynthia has apparently already adjusted to this new look and continues her job faithfully.

Cynthia: Good evening everyone! I'm Cynthia Adams, coming to you from just backstage, and I have with me a man about to head into a tag team match to determine the new contender to the Abandoned Championship, the Fallen Knight, Skyler Striker. Striker, what are your feelings heading into a match like this, where you might win the match but still not get the contendership?

Striker: I don’t know how many things I can say in answer to that question that aren’t a cliché, Cynth. Can I call you Cynth?

Cynthia: Well, I-

Striker: Good. Well, Cynth, I don’t consider this a win UNLESS I leave with that pinfall. Way I see it, there’s two points to this match. The first is to defeat Adrian and Halycon, which I ain’t doubtin’ Saint and I can do. The second is to walk out of that fight with the opportunity to take from TyranT what he took from me back at 5.2. That’s what I plan to do.

Cynthia: Fair enough. Now, Skyler, everyone here has seen you… well, change, in effect. The trench coat, the hair… aren’t you afraid of becoming a clone of John Derrick?

Striker: Listen close. I am not a clone of Derrick. I never will be. When I said I saw an example, I mean that I saw a damn example. Derrick’s been smarter than any of us so far. Maybe I sound like a kiss-up. I don’t really care if I do. But he knew what none of us did – that this war’s pointless. And I’ve realised that. I'll fight – but I'm gonna fight for me, and not this ‘perfect world’ ideal that’s floatin’ around. I-

The interview is interrupted by a figure who draws even louder cheers than Striker – the Doctor himself.

Doc: So, you admire me? Is that it? Do you want to be like me?

Striker:To an extent… uh.. yeah. You…

Doc walks closer into frame and stares down the younger star, stopping his thought mid sentence, his brow furrows.

Doc: Be like me? Swashbuckling, ne’er-do-well ol’ me? What is with everyone today, suddenly think that apathy is just so cool, so wet-your-bed dreamy. I walk my own path into the wilderness, when everyone else gets lost on the battlefield they run straight into the woods sniffing at my trail.

Striker: Listen, John, I don’t know why you’re so uncomfortable with praise, but the fact is that people recognize your wisdom now. I know that offends your lone wolf sensibilities.

Doc sneers, and narrows his eyes.

Doc: Lone wolf, that I ain’t. My life isn’t a choice; I’m not alone for the glamour, I’m alone because of my circumstance. Kid, don’t you get it, you may think you to walk in my shadow, but let me tell you the truth; even I don’t want to be like me. I earned my bitterness, and I paid for my spite, but I’d trade anything get a shade of optimism back. But I can’t, so all I have is bullheaded stubbornness and fool’s hope.

Derrick turns away.

Kid, best of luck, but blaze your own trail, I wouldn’t wish what waits me on this path on my worst enemy.

Striker is left with Cynthia, both equally perplexed at first, but a smile creeps across the young Knight’s face, realizing the gravity in the moment; subtle as always with the enigma of John Derrick.

Red by King Crimson hits as Adrian and Korran Halycon make their way out of the curtain, accompanied by a resounding boo.

Rabbi: Here we go! More great OS vs Resistance action here on anxiety, with the winner getting a title shot against TyranT!

Kross: I don’t even understand why we have this match, Korran has already promised that shot to Adrian! Its pointless!

Rabbi: I don’t think so, my friend.

For the Love of God by Stevie Vai hits and the crowd erupts in anticipation for the team of Saint and Striker. They dull down after a few seconds though, as they don’t come out of the curtain.

Kross: HAH! I see these guys wised up and took the first plane out of here.

The fans then erupt again as the duo shoots out from behind the announcers table and charge the ring, taking the Original Sin members by surpise

Rabbi: I cant believe that! Great teamwork to start things off as they ambush the OS members in the ring! Tandem Irish whips, double clothesline! Look at this! Saint helps Striker with an assisted moonsault!

Kross: Teamwork! More like CHEATING! This is ridiculous.

Korran rolls out of the ring as Adrian is left to fight Saint and Striker. The duo lift up Adrian and toss him off the ropes, then land a flapjack onto the top rope. As he falls back, they land tandem STO maneuvers and take Adrian down.

Rabbi: AMAZING WORK BY THE TEAM HERE! LOOK THEY’RE BOTH PINNING ADRIAN! That way BOTH will get the shot!

Kross: NO!

Rabbi: But Korran able to break up the count before the ref can get his hand down!

Korran pulls Saint out of the ring and throws him into the steel steps. As the ref argues with him, Adrian low blows Striker and lands a BC Pride superkick

Kross: NOW THAT’S HOW ITS DONE!

Rabbi: Adrian able to take advantage of the moment, he gets the pin! One, NO! Kickout!

Kross: That was a slow count if I ever saw one.

Korran suplexes Saint on the steel steps and slides into the ring. Him and Adrian pick up Striker and lift him in a suplex, bounce him off the ropes, and land a slingshot suplex. They then roll through and land a tandem facebuster

Kross: Now THAT’S teamwork!

Rabbi: And look at this! Korran is actually holding saints shoulders down, trying to give the win to Adrian!

Kross: What a noble act! That’s true friendship!

Rabbi: The ref won’t allow that at all! He stops after a one!

Kross: What the hell! This ref is obviously Resistance-biased.

Rabbi: More like rules-biased.

Korran and Adrian argue with the ref. Korran stays in the refs face as Adrian turns to the ropes to go handle Saint and is met with chair to the face.

Kross: WHAT UNDERHANDED TRICKERY!

Rabbi: SAINT WITH A SHOT TO THE FACE OF ADRIAN! KORRAN TURNS AT THE SOUND AND IS MET INSTEAD WITH SKYLER STRIKER! HE PUTS KORRANS LEGS UP ON THE TOP! HE FLIPS! HE LANDED IT! OMEGA REVELATION!

Kross: I can’t believe this…

Rabbi: Striker with the pin! ONE, TWO, NO! Wait!

Kross: HAH! Shows his true colors!

Rabbi: Saint stopped the pin! I can understand that motive, but at the same time-

Kross: Its bad business to look out for anyone but yourself, Rabbs, you should have learned that a long time ago.

Saint and Striker stare each other down for a second before Striker pushes Saint out of the way and instead takes the superkick from Adrian

Rabbi: ADRIAN FROM NOWHERE! BC PRIDE!

Kross: Done like a true champion!

Rabbi: Skyler sacrificed himself! What a partner!

Kross: Pssh, more like Martyr.

Adrian turns into a Satellite DDT from Saint.

Rabbi: Miracle DDT FROM SAINT! COVER! ONE, TWO- NO!

Kross: YES!

Rabbi: Korran breaks up the count! He lifts a stunned Saint, HALYCONIC HAMMER!

Kross: YES! Excellence!

Rabbi: Look! Korran soaks up destroying the home town hero Adrian is up! LOOK! Striker charges forward and takes Adrian and himself over the top rope!

Kross: The fool, he totally missed Korran!

Rabbi: LOOK! SAINT IS UP! SCHOOLBOY PIN! KORRAN IS STUNNED! ONE, TWO, THREE! ITS OVER

Kross: WHAT THE HELL! WHAT A CHEAT!

Rabbi: Korran can’t believe it! Striker slides back in with a chair and chases him off! The OS members are running up the ramp with their tails between their legs!

Kross: That’s not a bit of overstatement at all, Rab.

Rabbi: Listen to this crowd! Their showering the hometown hero with cheers! Striker raises his hand in victory! What an amazing win!


Peter Saint and Skyler Striker (8.3 aps - 0.1 penalty + 8.15 aps + 1.3 avs = 17.65 total)
Adrian and Korran Halycon (8.38 aps + 8.38 aaps + 0.4 avs = 17.16 total)

Saint continues bask in the adulation of his fellow Aussies, as the mood suddenly sours with the giant floating head of the much Appreciated General Manager of Anxiety. cYnical scowls at the newly crowned contender to the Abandoned title currently held by his prison yard dog, TyranT. He begins a slow golf clap as he speaks in a mocking tone.

cYnical: Well, well, well. Very impressive there, young Peter, but did you think you could really show such a lack of appreciation by bucking my expectations. No, such defiance is not without consequences. Let’s just see what the Wheel of Doom has in store for you.



The Wheel Spins and turns on the screen the various tortures and torments whirring by, landing finally on one space:

WATERY GRAVE MATCH

cYnical: Haha, enjoy this small victory, Saint as it will be your last. Next week against my Dog, you’re in for a Watery Grave, at the top of this ramp there will be a pit, filled with murky water, and shackle connected to a 500lb stone. The man who chains his opponent to the stone and pushes him into his Watery Grave, so enjoy! Next week TyranT will drown you like a sack of kittens.

While cYnical cackles in sadistic glee, Saint simply stares up at the screen with a concerned look.

The scene fades in on the same unmarked door from earlier tonight. A nondescript Security guard opens the door, and reveals Calvin Xavier in a drooling stupor. The screen flickers, relative flame-like as it were, as the sounds of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” fill the room. cYnical himself appears from the shadows.

cYnical: Let’s make this quick, I must observe the final match, intently. Well, worthless peon, do you see? Do you comprehend my greatness?

Xavier:…

cYnical: Answer me!

Xavier:…step into the flame…

cYnical: A-ha! I have been appreciated! I am so great!

Xavier:…smoochy… …not lame…

The scene cuts out, on the blank-eyed stare of Calvin Xavier

While the crowd noise may slowly fade as the shot goes backstage, the volume is exactly the same – there are two celebrating voices in the locker room the camera has suddenly appeared in. Well, to be honest, only one can actually be heard – for Peter Saint’s voice drowns out that of his partner, Skyler Striker. The victorious tag partners are both in their locker room, Saint with a smile on his face and a beer in his hand, Striker sitting down on a bench with a carton of chocolate milk beside him. Both men look relatively exhausted.

It is impossible not to note the air of tension between the two Australian superstars, for while they have won their match, only one has truly one anything – and the other knows it.

Saint: Finally, Skyler – my chance at the Abandoned Championship comes around again, one on one with that ridiculous excuse TyranT.

Striker: Yeah. Good for you.

Striker takes a long drink of his chocolate milk and Saint looks over at him, almost oblivious to his partner’s discouraged look.

Saint: Yo, man, what’s up? Aren’t you happy we won?

Striker: We won? WE won? There is no we, Saint! The only winner in that match was YOU. Open your eyes. I get a W in the column but I come out of that match with nothing. You get to go face TyranT for the Abandoned Championship again. I’ve got to start back at square one.

Saint: Hey, listen. As soon as I defeat TyranT, you can have first shot at the gold! Sound fair?

Striker stands and shoots off a glance more evil than Satan at Saint.

Striker: Had I had the chance, Peter, I would have got the pin in that match, and you know it. Respect where respect is due, you won the match, and I'm happy for you. But I won’t be satisfied until I get my chance. You know what feeling I get? It’s like everyone sees Anxiety, and the faces they see are John Derrick and Peter Saint. The glorious heroes. You know what, Saint? You haven’t won anything for a while before this. I haven’t lost since 5.2. Yet people see you, fighting this awesome fight in the Original Sin war. But you’ve been a little wrapped up in yourself for my liking, Saint.

Saint: I'm sorry you feel that way, Skyler. Listen, my family’s waiting for me, it’s my hometown, I'm gonna go have a few drinks.

Saint gets to the doorway before Striker’s words cause him to halt.

Striker: Good luck against TyranT, Saint. Make the remnant proud.

Saint nods to Striker and leaves the room. Striker sits down, takes another drink from his choc milk, and talks to himself.

Striker: I’ve fought with everything I have, but I can’t catch a break. I can’t find my place, my niche, nothing. I feel as though all this is pointless, and yet you’ve got this run going for you. How, why? Have I really become Derrick? Have I become what I didn’t want to be? Some ever-changing man, lost in the shuffle?

???: I think you have. Maybe I can fix this problem… by getting rid of YOU.

Striker looks up to see an evil grin planted firmly on the face of Adrian O’Rion. Without warning, Adrian grabs Striker and headbutts him viciously. Striker, dazed, cannot fight back as Adrian pulls him to his feet and throws the Fallen Knight into his own shower room. Striker cannot defend himself as Adrian charges Striker and rams him against the tiles, breaking some of them and leaving pieces on the floor. Pinning Striker against the wall, Adrian smiles evilly and stops his assault, grabbing a tile off the floor and rotating it in between his fingers.

Adrian: I don’t like losing. So I'm here to get a little back of what you took from me.

Adrian steps back and slashes the tile across Striker’s left eye, where the scar that Josef Black left at 5.4 has been stitched up. The stitches are no match for Adrian’s tile and Striker begins bleeding badly, blood covering the left side of his face. Adrian, still not satisfied, grabs Striker and throws him face first through the shower window. Striker collapses inside the shower, bleeding all over, and Adrian turns the cold water tap on, leaving Striker to freeze and bleed all at the same time.

Adrian: Clean yourself up, Striker.

The scene changes to the announce desk.

Kross: Oh Drew’s God, it looks like Adrian snapped…again… even more!

Rabbi: Insightful as ever, it appears he’s taking his frustration out on the half of the team didn’t get the shot, I wonder what repercussion we’ll see from this next week!

Cut to the ring.

“Symphony of Destruction” by MegaDeth hits as TyranT and cYnical step through the entrance. As TyranT walks to the ring, cYnical whispers in his ear, psyching him up.

Cherry: First, hailing from Marietta, Georgia. He weighs in at 315lbs. Accompanied by the Anxiety general manager, cYnical, this the FMW Abandoned Champion...This is TYRANT!!!

Rabbi: TyranT appears as aggressive as ever as ever.

Kross: This is the biggest match of that man's career.

TyranT rolls into the ring and stands ready in the center. He stares at the entranceway intensely as Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones hits. Instead of coming down the entranceway, John "Doc" Derrick wades his way through the cheering crowd. He stops to take a sip of beer from a male fan and flirt with a female one.

Cherry: His opponent weighs in at 230 lbs. He hails from Tombstone, Arizona! This John "Doc" Derrick!

Rabbi: Derrick looks ready as well.

Kross: But he has a huge size disadvantage to overcome. And TyranT is not intimated by this step up in competition.

TyranT continues to stand stoically in the ring as "Doc" wades his way through the crowd. cYnical screams words of encouragement at his charge, who anxiously awaits Doc's entrance.

Kross: TyranT looks like a cages animal standing in that ring.

Rabbi: Indeed, but Doc looks un-phased by his imposing opponent.

Derrick steps onto the ring apron and is immediately met with a right hand to the jaw. TyranT then flips Doc over the top rope into the ring. TyranT then grabs Doc's cowboy hat, tosses it to the ground and steps on it.

Rabbi: Wow! That's the ultimate insult to a cowboy like Doc.

Kross: And it seems to have woken him up!

Doc lands a punch to the midsection that doubles TyranT over. Doc follows up with a series of European uppercuts.

Rabbi: Doc is now in control. Irish whip into the corner. And Doc follows in with a clothesline.

Kross: TyranT is down in the corner!

Rabbi: And Doc is putting the boots to him. It looks like TyranT made a big mistake stepping on Doc's cowboy hat.

Kross: Doc is not letting up.

Derrick pulls TyranT to the middle of the ring and nails a DDT.

Rabbi: DDT! Doc with the cover...ONE...TWO...TyranT kicks out.

Kross: It's going to take more than that to beat a man of TyranT's size and toughness.

Rabbi: Doc off the ropes...kneedrop. Now a sleeperhold applied!

Doc wrenches the sleeperhold as his much larger opponent begins to fade. One the outside, cYnical screams for TyranT to break the hold.

Kross: TyranT still has some life in him.

Rabbi: TyranT is standing up! He's carrying Doc on his back!

Kross: What strength by the big man!

With cYnical cheering on, TyranT backs Doc into the turnbuckle. Despite the impact, Doc continues to hold on to the sleeper.

Rabbi: What tenacity! Doc is still holding on! It's almost a battle of wills now!

Kross: But TyranT's size should be the difference maker.

Rabbi: Maybe not, TyranT is back on one knee. He's fading!

Kross: His eyes are closed.

Rabbi: The referee is checking him. He lifts the arm...it drops! Two...it drops again! He's checking it a third.

As the referee lifts TyranT's arm, cYnical jumps up on to the ring apron, Doc responds by going after him. With the referee's attention diverted to TyranT, cYnical grabs Doc's neck and pulls him throat first down on the top rope.

Rabbi: Damn it!

Kross: Smart move by the GM!

Rabbi: But illegal.

Kross: I believe your forgetting who makes the rules.

Doc staggers back as TyranT gets to his feet and nails him with a spinebuster. TyranT follows up by throttling Doc.

Rabbi: TyranT's choking him. Now he has him up...Manhattan Drop! Now, TyranT rakes the eyes with his boot.

Kross: This is vintage TyranT.

cYnical cheers on as TyranT lifts Doc and powerslams him back to the mat.

Rabbi: Powerslam...TyranT with the cover...ONE...TWO...Doc kicks out!

Kross: That was close!

Rabbi: Tyrant picks him up again...Argentinean Backbreaker applied!

Kross: Now it's TyranT's turn to go for the submission.

As TyranT racks Doc to cYnical's approval, Derrick reaches down and rakes the eyes.

Rabbi: Rake of the eyes!

Kross: Now who's cheating?

Rabbi: Turnabout is fair play!

Kross: I thought you'd say that!

Rabbi: Doc slides down...Doc off the ropes...but TyranT catches him with the Tyrant Slam!

Kross: Quick cover...ONE...TWO...THREE! TyranT just...

Rabbi: Wait, the ref is saying two!

Kross: cYnical is beside himself! That was a slow count!

Rabbi: TyranT just shoved the ref! Now cYnical is in the ring arguing! Get him out! We've got a match going on!

As cYnical continues to argue, he slyly drops Tyrant's nightstick before exiting the ring while continuing to argue with the official.

Rabbi: He passed the nightstick to TyranT!

Kross: Turnabout is fair play, right?

Rabbi: I hate you!

Kross: Especially when I'm right.

Doc gets to his knees as TyranT swings the nightstick for his skull. Before the big man can, Doc nails him with a low blow.

Rabbi: Turnabout is fair play!

Kross: I hate you!

Rabbi: Especially when I'm right. Now Doc has the nightstick...he nails TyranT. He's got him up...he hits the Reckoning with the nightstick! For the second night in a row, he’s used a finisher co-innovated by D. Hammond Samuels; TyranT is out!

Kross: Doc is a dangerous man on a warpath, the ref is turning around...NO!!! The GM will not be happy.

Doc tosses the nightstick out of the ring before covering TyranT. As the referee gets into position, Doc looks at cYnical and winks.

Rabbi: Doc has the cover...ONE...TWO...THREE!!! John "Doc" Derrick has defied the GM and the odds to hand a loss to the Abandoned Champion!

John "Doc" Derrick (8.63 aps - 0.1 penalty + 1.0 avs = 9.53 total)
TyranT (8.32 aps + 0.9 avs = 9.22 total)

With that last fall of the referee’s hand, so drops the General Manager’s jaw. The disbelief is painted across his face, as the smug assuredness he displayed earlier tonight backfires in a grand way. The dread of facing his superiors with the promises he wasn’t entitled to make, only made more piercing by the quickly rising John Derrick, the man he owes what he cannot give. He backs toward the ropes, but Doc is already rising to his feet, motioning to the ringside production crew for two mikes. Holding one to his mouth, he begins to speak.

Doc: Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Sparky, where do you think you’re going? We’ve got a little bit of business to finish here, as you can see, I’ve taken care “yer boy, thar”, I believe you owe me something, now.

Doc casually tosses the stick towards the general manager, who bobbles it for a second, caught off guar, trying to regain his composure and dignity, cYnical responds.

cYnical: W-what? I-I don’t owe you anything, this is MY night! You’re here to appreciate me, and I think you’ve done a piss-poor job of that!

Doc: Hmph. It’s unbecoming of a man of your stature to go back on his word.

cYnical: H-how dare you, to impugn my reputation on this, the most holy of nights, I’ll not stand for anymore of this slander, I’m leaving!

The esteemed Head Wizard in Charge, begins to exit, leaving Doc to roll his eyes, before strolling over to TyranT’s nightstick, left on mat by the Abandoned Champion, as he rolled out during this exchange. Picking it, weighing it in his hand, and flipping it once, Doc squares his sight, and wings the heavy metal cudgel at his boss, nailing him square in the back, knocking him off balance. He falls to a knee, and Doc rushes behind him, picking the stick up again, restraining the last remaining Smoochy fan.

Doc: I’m tired of being dicked around by you and your owners, fire-bitch. Now where the fuck is my damn title shot!

Struggling to speak with from within restraint cYnical begins to choke out a few words.

cYnical: ack.. I-I- c-can’t…

Doc: Oh, really now? Pray tell why, good sir.

Doc wrenches his neck some.

cYnical: Ah-ah—aaah! I… don’t have… the..kuh… authority… I only… control Anxiety.. Jaro’s.. the… only one…

The words hit Doc like a slap in the mouth, he jerks cYnical to his feet, drops the nightstick and switches to a chinlock, holding the mike to his mouth. He grabs cYnicals hand and raises it up.

Doc: FINE! If you can’t, I’ll just talk to someone who can. Jaro! I’ve got your flame-belching little cunt-puppet! I’m giving you the count of ten, to show yourself on that screen and give a damn title shot, like I’ve well and earned. Daniel, some assistance with the countdown, please?

Rabbi: Dear G-d, what is Doc about to do here?

The would-be contender places the tip of his thumb on the index finger of the hostage Manager. He applies pressure, bending the digit back into hyper-extension…

Kross: Sweet Baby Michaels, what the hell is he doing?!

…POP-CRACK!

The screams of the wizard fill the air over all the crowd noise, a painful shriek unlike anything from any other Full Metal event, and that is a gruesome distinction.

Doc: One.

Kross: That finisher isn’t the only thing he’s taking from the Samuels playbook.

Rabbi: I think I’m gonna be sick..

He moves to the middle finger…

…CRUNCH…

…and cYnical won’t be flipping the bird for some time, a fact that has him moaning and wailing with regret.

Doc: Two.

…CRACK…

So heartbroken over his newfound inability to wear a wedding band, the manager passes out with grief.

Doc: Three.

…KEE-RACK…

The smallest digit puts up a valiant fight, but alas.

Doc: Four. Fine, if that’s the way it has to be…

Doc positions his hand grasping around the thumb, and pulls back, when the crowd erupts in a sudden explosion of disapproval. Doc looks up and sees his request granted, with smiling face…

Full Metal Champion Eric Scorpio, live via satellite in Japan!

Eric Scorpio: Now, now. It is unbecoming of such a proud man as yourself to victimize the weak.

Doc: Are you up there Pastor Eric to give me what’s mine, or does Jason keep you cooped up in such a small terrarium that you can’t decide who will get to squash you next?

Eric Scorpio: Clever as always, Jonathan. No, I’ve come to tell you that your sins have not gone unnoticed by the Cleansing Eye. Your barbarism on display this night just the latest grievance, and they will all be aired, next week as I will be at Anxiety live, to confront you for your repentance!

To this the crowd cheers in approval, as Doc lets cYnical crumple into a heap, cradling his twisted flesh.

Doc: I’ll be in my Sunday best, Preach.

Rabbi: I can’t believe what we’ve just seen and heard, the Full Metal Champion, live for the first time ever on Anxiety!

Kross: How callous of you, do you not see our fine General Manager crumpled in a blubbering heap after the most vicious assault we’ve seen. You may be enraptured by the minutiae of talent scheduling, I’m more worried about the management situation next week, who will lead the brand?

Rabbi: You mean who will sign your checks?

Kross: Yes, yes I do.

Rabbi: … and I’m supposed to be the Jew stereotype. We’re all out of time folks, see you next week on Full Metal Wrestling Anxiety!

With that, the screen fades out on Doc’s trademark smirk.