CORRUPTION 12.1 RESULTS!

”Superstar” by Saliva opens Corruption live from Melbourne, Australia, with a barrage of red and white pyro coming from the stage!

Boice: This... is... Corruption! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re coming to you live from the Land Down Under, right here in lovely Melbourne, Australia! This is Corruption 12.1, the first show after the momentous Catalyst event! My name is Jack Boice, and alongside me is my partner, the one and only Prince of Pretty, Janus Flare!

Flare: You’re getting really good at these introduction things, Jacky!

Boice: And I’m only going to get better! Like I said, this is the first show after Catalyst and the FMW Games tournament! Unfortunately, Corruption didn’t win the War Games nor the FMW Games even as we came into Catalyst with the lead!

Flare: Yeah. Can you believe that Distortion won? DISTORTION? Jeez, man.

Boice: We’ve got no choice but to move on, Flare, and move on we shall! Tonight, we’ve got two huge matches and one big event happening!


Boice: We’ve got the bitter tag team feud between Corruption’s own Burning Insanity and Ammunition’s the Comeback Kids finally coming to a head in an ultraviolent Tag Team Thumbtack Kickpads match!

Flare: ...A what?

Boice: You’ll find out later. And as for a big event coming up... tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we will witness a great man, a class act finally bow out. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, tonight on Corruption 12.1, FMW Ultraviolent Champion and one of FMW’s living legends, Harley Quint, will be retiring.


Flare: He’s retiring? But he’s still champion! What’s going to happen to the Ultraviolent title?

Boice: Well, I’m certainly glad you asked, Flare. Since Quint is going out on top, he’s going to have to vacate the title. At least one person in Seth Omega has announced that he will be using his FMW Games title shot to go after the vacant Ultraviolent title, and of course, we here on Corruption have to send someone out to represent us in that title match. Which leads us to...


Boice: That’s right, the Commish is back in action... in a #1 contender’s match to determine Corruption’s #1 contender for the Ultraviolent championship!

Flare: Well, I guess we know now who our next UV champ is going to be...

Boice: Oh, really? Who will it be, pray tell?

Flare: Isn’t it obvious? Smitten, of course!

Boice: Bold prediction there, Flare, let’s see if it’s going to hold up. Anyway, we’ve also got two rookies matches on the card tonight, and we’ll begin the show with one of them!

Flare: Yawn.

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!

”Army of Me” by Bjork plays as the arena darkens and a red strobe light flashes as Panzer charges the ring wearing his signature leather jacket, jeans and carrying his precious baseball bat.

Sheila Blige: Introducing first, from Providence, Rhode Island, weighing two hundred of forty pounds, he is known as the Fallen One... PANZER!!!

Boice: This is Panzer, one of Corruption’s newly-signed rookies, and look at that guy. He’s a powerhouse!

Flare: He’s an ugly sum’bitch, that’s for sure.

Boice: Look at his build. Not very tall, but very stocky, lots of muscle mass packed into that compact frame. I predict this guy is gonna be a hard-hitter, and his opponent for tonight, Alistair Wolfe, may need some ice packs when he gets to the back, win or lose.

Flare: I mean, if looks could kill... this entire arena would be dead.

Boice: Don’t let him hear you, Flare, because it looks like he can really tear you apart. Limb from limb.

Flare: My prettiness will stop him in his tracks. Like Magnum.

Boice: You keep dreaming.

The song changes now into ”This Calling” by All That Remains as the lights turn red. Alistair Wolfe comes out to a mild cheer from the audience.

Sheila Blige: And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing two hundred and twenty-five pounds, he is... ALISTAIR... WOLFE!!!

Flare: And heeere’s Count Jobcula!

Boice: Alistair Wolfe has been around a while now, but hasn’t been able to get anything substantial going in terms of momentum. You can tell that he’s been trying, but he’s yet to earn a win in a while.

Flare: Please. Trying can only get you so far.

Boice: Better to try and fail instead of not trying at all.

Flare: To paraphrase a little old green alien, “Do or do not. There is no try.”

Boice: You do know that that doesn’t always apply, right?

Flare: To losers, sure.

Wolfe gets in the ring and the two competitors warm up a little. The ref quickly checks up on them and then calls for the bell to start the match.

Boice: That’s the bell and this is the match and right from the outset, Panzer, like his namesake, is taking it to Alistair Wolfe with rapid-fire punches! I’m sure each of those fists are as tough as cement!

Flare: Panzer... like a panzer tank!

Boice: That’s what I just said. Alistair Wolfe trying to keep up with him but Panzer is just too tough and nails a quick powerslam!

Flare: I just noticed that these two are at around the same height, but Wolfe is a little thinner.

Boice: That’s what I also pointed out earlier, Flare. Panzer is really built like a tank, so that name is quite fitting. And look at that! Panzer is lifting Wolfe out from a prone position on the mat! What strength!

Flare: Damn!

Boice: But Wolfe manages to use his agility to roll through and escape the power move! Now he’s turning to his stronger arsenal as Wolfe uses elbows on Panzer! Wolfe with the russian legsweep!

Flare: That vamp’s not gonna make it out of here on his own two legs, I’m telling you.

Boice: Well, he’s putting up a good fight right now, not giving a lot to Panzer!

Flare: Just you wait and see. He’ll be giving up that edge soon.

Boice: Wolfe, looking to go for the DDT... but Panzer powers out and hits a big time spinebuster!

Flare: Told you.

Boice: Panzer is like a beast! So much power contained in his body, if given enough opportunities, this man could literally steamroll through the roster in due time!

Flare: Woah there, homie, let’s not jump into things too quickly. This is just his debut match.

Boice: And he’s looking like gold so far!

Flare: Well, that is true.

As Alistair Wolfe & Panzer continue to fight, there is suddenly a loud noise from backstage. It sounds like a car revving.

Boice: Wait... do you hear that?

Flare: What the hell is that noise?

Boice: I don’t know. Seriously, we’re having a wrestling match over here.

Flare: It sounds like a car!

Boice: Indeed… and we’re a far way away from the parking lot.

The revving noise grows gradually louder and then suddenly the glass from the backstage entrance bursts into thousands of tiny fragments, as a Dodge Challengers drives through it. The windows are totally tinted. Both wrestlers in the ring slowly stop fighting and stare confused and open-mouthed at the spectacle unfolding on the stage.

Boice: What the hell? This is pretty crazy…

Flare: Don’t you speak to me about prettiness. I’m the expert here.

Boice: …Well?

Flare: Well, of course, this is nuts.

The car heads straight towards the ring and crashes into the apron, sending the referee and both men inside it to fall off their feet.

Boice: Oh my god, he just crashed right into the ring! I hope the guys are all right!

Before anyone can react the car-door flings open, and a man with bleach blond hair and a long leather overcoat steps out. He is carrying a bottle of beer and a lighted cigarette, which he is smoking. He smiles and motions with his hand to the crowd to wait a second, proceeding to take out a microphone from the inside of the jacket’s pocket.

Boice: Hey! What the hell is going on here? Who is that? Who does he think he is?

Flare: You’re asking too many questions! But I don’t like him. He’s far too over the top for my taste.

Boice: ...Do you realize what you just said?

The man takes a long pull on the cigarette and throws it down on the floor, stomping it out. He then blows out a long cloud of smoke as he readies himself to speak.

???:: Greetings kiwis. Your hero has arrived to save you from this bloody bore-fest they call a wrestling match that is transpiring in the ring.

Both Wolfe and Panzer seem affronted as they stare down at the newcomer.

???:: I like my wrestling like I like my dinner. It not only needs to have some substance, but it needs to be spruced up. You know, throw some chillis on it. A little curry. Tobasco is always a plus. It needs to burn, mate. It’s not living if it doesn’t hurt.

As he walks around the ring, one of the security members jumps over the guard-rail and paces at him. He swings his baton wildly and overenthusiastically, but the man ducks under it. Before the security guard can react, he is laid out viciously with the microphone.

???:: Bloody rude, that was. Oh, right, I forgot. Maybe I should introduce myself. The name’s Fox, mates. Damien Fox.

Flare: OH MY GOD… IT’S DAMIEN FOX!

Boice: What? You know this guy?

Flare: No… I was just being dramatic. Thank you for spoiling my moment, Jack.

Boice: Uh-huh. Well, I’ve heard his name – he’s also one of FMW’s newest signings, but I didn’t expect him to be here... and I certainly didn’t expect him to show up like this.

Damien takes a long swig of his beer, and throws the bottle to the floor, where it shatters loudly.

Damien: Australian beer isn’t half bad, mind you. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes.

He turns towards Wolfe and Panzer.

Damien: You both can’t wrestle, mates. Now, that’s not necessarily the worst thing. But you can’t fight either. It’s a bloody atrocity.

Flare: He’s just asking for it, isn’t he? That’s two guys, one buffalo and one fairy he’s talking to. I know that’s like one and a half, but that’s too much for him.

Boice: Well, he’s certainly got a smart mouth.

Damien slides into the ring and stares at the two.

Damien: It’s like both of you haven’t shown up at all. Hell, look at the viewers. I saw an old guy back there who was so fast asleep with his mouth open that he was devouring soddin’ moths.

At that point Wolfe charged forward, directly at Damien.

Boice: Well, it looks like Wolfe has had enough of the newcomer’s cockiness!

Damien saw the move and reached out quickly, shoving the referee forward, directly into Wolfe. Before he has a chance to recover, Damien steps forward and nails him with the microphone.

Flare: BAM! Soap to the dome!

Boice: And Damien Fox has taken out Alistair Wolfe with one deft move!

Panzer suddenly reacted, hitting him with a vicious right, following it up by a series of punches.

Boice: And now Panzer’s gotten in on the action too, having had enough!

Flare: Well, he’s in trouble now!

Grabbing hold of his arm, he irish whips him into the rope. As he lurches forward for a clothesline, Damien suddenly jumps through the air, lashing out with the mic with full force, taking Panzer down as well. The referee groggily gets up and calls for the bell.

Flare: And... BAM, too!

Boice: And Panzer has also been taken down by Fox and his microphone! Both competitors are down and out!

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, due to interference, this match has been ruled a no-contest!

Flare: Well, it certainly took her long enough to announce it.

Boice: As if it wasn’t enough that he’s interrupting the match… He’s actually caused a no-contest here!

Flare: More like a no-show contest.

Boice: What?

Flare: Nothing. Don’t know why I said that.

Damien holds his microphone up again.

Damien: There, folks. You’ve just been saved from exhaustion by boredom. Bet you didn’t expect this to happen. Let me tell you that things are about to change. I’ll do as the fancy takes me. If I feel like pissing on the announcers table, I’ll do that.

Boice: He wouldn’t, would he?

Flare: I know I have.

Damien taps his head a few times.

Damien: There are a few more surprises in store, though. Now, it seems that somebody has alerted the fuzz. This show isn’t over. Stay tuned!

Damien jumps over the guard-rail, as about a dozen security guards arrive to take him down. He makes his way through the crowd, with them hot in tail.

Boice: Wow… Simply wow… I’ve got nothing else to say. Damien Fox certainly making a statement with that debut… Even if that statement merely asserts that he is crazy.

Flare: He reminds me of someone...

Boice: Oh, I could name a couple off the top of my head easily. But damn... what a start to tonight’s show! If you want more of this, then there’s a lot more where it came from! Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be right back after the break!

We go backstage to where Harley is walking around in a corridor. He has the UV title on his shoulder for his last night as champion. He walks around for a little while until he stops... and the camera zooms out to reveal Celt, talking on a cellphone.

Celt: ...Yeah, we’re just about ready to do it, everything’s in limbo over here, now would be the best time-

Celt suddenly spots Harley.

Celt: – Hold on for a second, will ya?

Celt momentarily puts down the phone. The two men stare at each other quietly, each expecting the other to start the conversation. After a while, Celt breaks the ice.

Celt: So... you’re finally doing it, huh.

Harley: Yes. Yes, I am.

Celt doesn’t answer for a while.

Celt: Well, I hope you don’t come back... because that would mean that you really have changed.

Harley lets out a small, sad chuckle.

Harley: I’m sorry you’re not convinced, Celt.

Celt: Forgive me if I never bought it right away.

Harley pauses.

Harley: Don’t worry... you’re forgiven.

Harley nods at Celt and he walks away. Celt watches him leave, and it would be a moment until he continues his conversation on the phone.

Boice: ...That was interesting.

Flare: He mad?

Boice: I guess I can’t blame Celt, though, he went through so much pain at the hands of the old Harlequin.

Flare: That is true.

Boice: Anyway, you’re back live with us here on Corruption from Melbourne, Australia, and before the commercial break, Flare... we just witnessed the debut of a brand new FMW superstar.

Flare: You know, I don’t know whether I should be flattered or disgusted that I can kind of see myself in this... Damien Fox.

Boice: Fox certainly made his debut in an obnoxious manner, that’s for sure, and yeah, you’re right – he does have shades of you!

Flare: What? He doesn’t have my shades. I don’t lend these things out to anyone, you know.

Boice: That’s... not what I meant. Anyway, let’s move on to our next match of the evening, and this is going to be a huge one! Two teams, bitterly feuding over the past cycle, finally coming to a head tonight! Burning Insanity and the Comeback Kids, one last time, in a Tag Team Thumbtack Kickpads Match!

Flare: I don’t know how this match is gonna work, but the name sounds epic!

Boice: Well, it’s going to largely play out like a normal tag team match under Corruption rules, but they’re going to be wearing kickpads with thumbtacks on them! Every kick will sting!

Flare: ...Damn, I wouldn’t want to be near any of those. Gotta keep the Prince pretty, son.

Boice: Of course.

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and it is a Tag Team Thumbtack Kickpads Match! Each competitor will be wearing a set of kickpads with thumbtacks embedded in them, and whoever scores a pinfall or submission wins! Introducing first!

”Into the Mouth of Hell We March” by Trivium plays as the crowd warmly receives the team of Christian Moore and Cole Dragos, collectively known as Burning Insanity.

Sheila Blige: ...From Reading, England, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and eighty pounds, the team of Christian Moore and Cole Dragos, this is... BURNING... INSANITY!!!

Boice: It was only at Catalyst where Christian Moore and Slegnadamus were in the Gold Card Gauntlet match. Slegna eliminated Moore but didn’t go on to win the match.

Flare: Were you expecting otherwise?

Boice: It could’ve gone any way.

Moore and Dragos are slapping the hands of the fans on each side of the entrance ramp. All of a sudden, they both get pulled back by a masked fan on each side, and these fans punch Moore and Dragos. These two masked fans jump the security barricade and pull off their masks to reveal themselves as Butters and Slegnadamus!

Boice: Oh my god! It’s the Comeback Kids and they ambushed Burning Insanity from behind!

Flare: Well... that’s actually pretty smart. There are no disqualifications, after all. The law in Corruption is that there’s no law!

The bell rings as Slegna and Butters kick around Moore and Dragos who are writhing on the floor.

Boice: The Comeback Kids just kicking Burning Insanity around on the floor, making good use of the thumbtack kickpads stipulation!

Flare: They jumped their opponents from behind and are literally giving them no space to recover – that’s pretty smart!

Boice: Well, they did formulate a good strategy and that’s what being on Ammunition has taught them. And I’d like to remind everyone that since this tag match is taking place in the chaotic land that is Corruption, this match is actually under both Texas tornado and Falls Count Anywhere rules!

Flare: That’s... really not good for Burning Inanity.

Boice: Insanity.

Flare: Whatever.

Boice: Slegna’s got Moore, his old nemesis, and Butters has Dragos! They’re just raining kicks on their torsos – and Butters just nailed a roundhouse to the side of Dragos’s face! Those are THUMBTACKS colliding with human flesh!

Flare: Seriously, Jacky, you sound surprised. We’re on Corruption, for Christ’s sake.

Boice: It doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s brutal and morbid! Dragos is down, but Butters continues to kick him! Dragos is covered with red spots all over!

Flare: This is Corruption, and the order of the day is no mercy!

Boice: No mercy indeed! Moore is up but he’s receiving a lot of kicks in the abdomen and legs from Slegna, and Burning Insanity has virtually had zero opportunities to respond!

Flare: They’re the ones who got jumped!

Boice: That is true, but they’ve been given literally no quarter to work here!

Flare: What do you expect? The Comeback Cocks have hated these guys since way back when, and vice versa! If Burning Inanity was the one who jumped these guys, we’d be seeing them dominating the match!

Boice: I can’t really argue with that. Butters sending Dragos to the security barricade... and running kick to Dragos’s stomach! Good god, the humanity!

Flare: ...is awesome!

Boice: And here we’ve got Moore trying to fight back, but he’s too dazed! Slegna kicks him but Moore doesn’t go down, Moore tries for a kick but Slegna catches it... and OH MY GOD A SPINNING WHEEL KICK TO MOORE’S FACE! THOSE WERE THUMBTACKS TO THE NOSE, THE MOUTH, THE EYES!

Flare: There will be blood!

Boice: THE HUMANITY! SLEGNA IS JUST REVELING IN WHAT HE JUST DID AS MOORE’S FACE BEGINS TO BLEED IN SEVERAL PLACES!

Flare: It’s all part of the game, Jack!

Boice: And now... now he’s stomping on a facedown Moore! For the love of God, Slegna, Butters, JUST END THIS!

Flare: ...You’re pathetic.

Boice: I can recognize that there’s no way in hell Burning Insanity is going to ever get up and fight back, so you just might as well get it over with – oh god, Butters has Dragos in a sitting surfboard stretch, just pressing Dragos’s back against the thumbtacks!

Flare: Well, if Dragos submits, you’ve got your wish!

Boice: But Butters releases the hold before Dragos can tap out! The Comeback Kids are just torturing Burning Insanity! There is nothing competitive about this match!

Flare: ...So what?

Boice: Slegna rolls Moore into the ring and he’s calling Butters! Finally! Just... just end this entire thing! Please!

Flare: I love the way they left Dragos lying on the floor, probably dead.

Boice: Butters gets on top of a turnbuckle, and Slegna’s got a hold on Moore!

Flare: This is it!

Boice: Slegna with the cradle DDT... and Butters with a springboard flying kick! They call it Dialectic Chaos, and it’s even more brutal in this match! I’m just glad it’s finally over! The ref counts! One! Two! Three!

Flare: You happy now?

Sheila Blige: And here are your winners... THE COMEBACK KIDS!!!

Boice: Well, I sure hope they’re proud of themselves.

Flare: Oh, I bet they are.

Slegna and Butters ask for a mic.

Boice: What, now they’re going to talk?

Flare: Sure looks like it, Captain Obvious.

Slegna: What you just saw here... this is the beginning. This is the beginning of the era of Slegnadamus. This is the beginning of the era of Butters. This is the beginning of the era of the Comeback Kids!

The crowd boos.

Flare: That... doesn’t quite have any ring to it.

Butters: You little people all know what that means. You all know what’s gonna happen. Alex O’Rion! Chris Austin! Listen up, because we’re putting you on notice!

More boos from the crowd.

Slegna: That’s right. You’re all looking at the next FMW Tag Team Champions, and Wayward Sons, you better not take us lightly, because it’ll be the last mistake... you’ll ever make.

Slegna drops the mic and ”Enemies of Reality” by Nevermore plays as the crowd boos the Comeback Kids out of the building.

Flare: HAH! Is this a joke? Slegnadamus and Butters, the next tag team champions?

Boice: If I were to base it all on this match, I’d take them seriously. Looks like the Wayward Sons have some fresh new competition again.

Flare: I mean sure, they were dominant tonight... but you can’t possibly be serious.

Boice: Only time will tell, I suppose. Ladies and gentlemen, Corruption will be right back.

We open to backstage again, and with Ultraviolent Champion Harley Quint still walking around the corridors. He walks and walks... until he stops again. The camera swings to reveal TyranT, who puts out his cigarette at the sight of Harley.

TyranT: Leavin' t'night now, ain'tcha?

It's clear that TyranT is trying to intimidate Harley, but Harley is unfazed.

Harley: Yeah, that's right.

TyranT: Well, ain't that a shame. Y'know, you were always good. I was always wond'rin' when you would start goin' after me and my championship.

Harley: Really? I'm sorry, then. I was always happy where I was.

TyranT: 'Course, it was one less problem fer me.

Harley: I'm sure it was.

TyranT: Was it all really worth all that bullshit with Jaro?

Harley pauses.

Harley: ...Yes, I think so.

TyranT: Heh.

Harley: Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get ready.

Harley walks past TyranT, leaving him there.

Boice: Ladies and gentlemen you’re back with us live on Corruption, and before the break we just saw the Comeback Kids utterly dominate Burning Insanity, and make their case for the FMW Tag Team Championships!

Flare: I still can’t get over it! It’s just too funny!

Boice: Well, of course you won’t take them seriously. But never mind that now. Up next, we’ve got the second of two rookies matches!

Flare: Another yawn.

Boice: Best get it out of the way, you know?

Flare: Can you wake me up when it’s over?

Boice: They’re not paying you to sleep on the job.

Flare: I hope they’re not sleeping either.

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!

”Belly of the Beast” by Danzig plays as Ripper comes out.

Sheila Blige: From New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing three hundred pounds, this is... RIPPER!!!

Boice: It’s been a while since we’ve last seen Ripper on Corruption, and I’d forgotten how much of a hoss he is.

Flare: Hoss? Are you evolving into Jim Ross?

Boice: Well, it was for lack of a better word. Ripper’s been away from the spotlight for a good while, but if he can pick up a huge win here, he may get a good foot on the road to the TV title.

Flare: To that, I say... meh.

Boice: Of course you do.

”Know Your Enemy” by Rage Against the Machine takes over as rookie Cliff Carson appears for the first time in front of a live FMW audience.

Sheila Blige: And his opponent, from Solvang, California, weighing two hundred and seven pounds, he is... CLIFF... CARSON!!!

Boice: And this is Cliff Carson’s FMW debut... and look. His opponent has almost a hundred pounds on him. I think I know what kind of fight we’ll be in for.

Flare: Can you say “calabasa”?

Boice: What?

Flare: It’s Spanish for squash.

Boice: Oh. Good one.

Flare: Why, thank you.

Carson reaches the ring and takes a corner. The referee does a quick check between the two competitors and calls for the bell to ring.

Boice: There’s the bell and this match is on like Donkey Kong!

Flare: Watch it, Nintendo’s looking to trademark that.

Boice: Well, it’s not trademarked yet. Cliff Carson the smaller man, looking for a way to get around, to approach and attack the bigger Ripper. It’s a literal David vs. Goliath match right here.

Flare: Hey, you remember how our first rookies match tonight went?

Boice: That’s right, another rookie, Damien Fox, interrupted in a major fashion and subsequently took out Panzer and Alistair Wolfe. I’m hoping that doesn’t happen here.

Flare: Well... I’m hoping it does.

Boice: Carson going in for some kicks to Ripper’s leg, trying to cut him down, trying to take away that vertical base, to increase Ripper’s vulnerability.

Flare: But sheer power tends to overrule strategy at some points as Ripper takes that leg and flips Carson down on his ass!

Boice: That’s sheer power indeed and Ripper now goes to stomp a mudhole out of Carson!

Flare: He’s gonna die in there.

Boice: The extra hundred pounds definitely not helping Carson here as all that weight, all 300 pounds of Ripper is crashing down on his body with each stomp!

Flare: Broken bones, anyone?

Boice: Now Ripper picks him up and goes to hit a spinebuster... but Carson counters into a Lou Thesz press!

Flare: That’s... that’s actually pretty gay.

Boice: He’s got the disadvantage, so he’s got to take every opportunity that presents itself!

Flare: Meh.

Boice: Now Carson’s managed to down the big Ripper, what kind of strategy is he going to employ now?

Flare: Even a 10-year-old Cena mark can answer that one, Jack. Keep him down.

Boice: Wouldn’t argue against that.

Suddenly the MetalTron flashed a few times, and then produced nothing but static.

Flare: Hey... check out the MetalTron!

Boice: What? What now?

Flare: Somebody broke something again.

Boice: No, wait... I know what this is. I know exactly what this is.

Suddenly the feed comes back on, and instead of the wrestling match, Damien Fox is once again shown on the screen. The two wrestlers in the ring look on, flabbergasted, both stopping their fighting to observe the spectacle.

Flare: It’s Damien Fox!

Boice: You’re really on point with these observations tonight, aren’t you?

Flare: I try.

Damien: Well, well, well. A rookie coming in and interfering with a match for his debut… While I rocked it with innovation, it’s not necessarily the most unexpected thing. But I’m sure none of you bloody well expected me to interfere twice, did you?

Boice: I mean, really? Damien Fox again? I mean, seriously. Wasn’t interrupting in one match bad enough?

Flare: He’s getting his name out there. Throwing it at the people, and making it stick.

Boice: We should have a limit on rookie appearances.

Damien: Now, I’m looking at these two guys in the ring. Ripper and Cliff Carson. You guys are even worse off than that Wolfe and Panzer guys. The audience has paid good money here… paid to see a damn fight… and what are they seeing? A slap-fest between two nobodies? That’s not how it works, mates.

Damien walks around on the titantron, and then smiles as he gazes towards the camera.

Damien: But I’ve got the formula. The Hollywood bloody formula. Let’s Americanize this.

The crowd boos on as Damien continues his speech.

Damien: What constitutes good entertainment, then? Sex?

The camera pans out and from the corner, a naked woman (with the appropriate censor bars, don’t worry) is shown walking up to Damien.

Boice: Yowzer! We have standards to uphold! Cut the feed!

Flare: Standards? The standards are a lie! Is Mr. Happy going to make an appearance tonight?

Boice: What? ...Who?

Flare: Nothing.

The woman approaches Damien and runs her hand across his chest. They both stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, before he turns back towards the screen.

Damien: Drugs?

He takes out a packet containing a large amount of white powder. Nodding his head towards the woman, she lies down on a table, and he traces a line of it on her stomach. Glancing towards the camera and winking, he bends over and sniffs the line up.
Boice: Wait… He can’t do that! Did he just sniff drugs there? A naked woman, and now actual consumption of actual drugs on the air? Corruption isn’t exactly meant to be TV-PG, but there are rules we have to play by here!

Flare: You’re sitting beside the guy who had sex with himself in the ring. Fuck yo’ damn rules.

Damien shakes his head, clearing the cobwebs and gives out a loud yell, before continuing his list.

Damien: Whoo! To quote the Road Warriors, what a rush! What’s next, now? Rock & Roll?

A string of loud music suddenly erupts, as the camera zooms in to show Black Sabbath playing Iron-Man in the background. Damien does a ruse of playing an air guitar with the band, as he laughs.

Boice: Black Sabbath? How’d he convince them to come perform?

Flare: This is FMW, anything can happen!

Boice: Well... at least this was tame.

Damien: Now… let me see. Are you entertained, yet? Have I performed my Robbie Williams song to your satisfaction? You know, Let Me Entertain you and all that? Now, call me a perfectionist, but I don’t think it’s quite soddin’ right yet. There’s still something… missing. Tell me, what might that be?

Flare: The Prince of Pretty!

Boice: I don’t think he was talking about you.

Flare: That response is unacceptable. I reject it!

Damien: I’ve got it. I’ve bloody damn well soddin’ got it. What is missing from the formula of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll?

He tilts his head to the side, obviously in thought. From under the ring, apart from the feed, Damien Fox suddenly slides out with a steel pipe in his hand.

Boice: Wait, he’s here! Damien Fox is here to ruin another match! I don’t like that steel pipe!

He jumps up onto the apron, pulling himself in. The two figures of Ripper and Cliff Carson don’t notice him, as he runs towards them.

Boice: Behind you, guys!

Swinging the pipe wildly, he knocks Cliff Carson out cleanly. Ripper, sensing something is happening, turns around, just in time to get a blow to the stomach. As he crumbles to the floor, Damien aims another one at his head, cracking it open. Damien laughs loudly and takes out his microphone from his pocket again.

Boice: Dammit! Damien Fox laid out all the other rookies tonight!

Flare: I must say, I like his style!

Damien: THAT’S what was missing. Now, what was lacking to make this good entertainment, then?

The camera zooms in in a closeup of his face.

Damien: Damien Bloody Fox.

He drops the mic, as he rolls out of the ring, once again escaping into the audience, as a new security team arrives to subdue him.

Boice: This guy has hijacked half our show!

Flare: It made a statement, though, didn’t it? He just clearly announced himself to the entire FMW and made everyone well aware of his presence.

Boice: Indeed… But he’s pissed off 4 competitors in the process! He better start watching his back!

Flare: Those were just four inferior competitors, I wouldn’t worry about them if I were him!

Boice: He better hope they don’t put out a bounty on his head. Ladies and gentlemen, Corruption will be right back!

It's that time of year again.


The most dangerous battlefield in FMW.


Many bones have been broken, and many careers have been shortened by the battles on this monstrous creation.


It is both a portal to the underworld, and a stairway to heaven for only one brave warrior.


Who will survive the battle?


Who will conquer...

Boice: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Corruption! It’s time now for a most anticipated event, where our very own Ultraviolent Champion, Harlequin, will finally be-

“Friend Like Me” by Wayne Bergeron hits to a cacophony of boos. Smitten walks down the ramp casually, to a seething chorus. His face is sombre as he moves, shoulders a little rested, microphone in a loose grip. He enters the ring, pausing for a second to allow the crowd to die down. They do not.

Boice: Wait... what? It’s not time for our main event yet!

Flare: It’s the Commish!

Boice: Well, thank you, Sherlock.

Flare: No problem.

Boice: But what is he doing here?

Smitten: Please... ladies and gentlemen... be silent.

Flare: Shut up, and you’ll find out.

Which only drives them harder.

Smitten: I don't think you understand. You need to be quiet.

??: They don't need to do anything, Christian.

“The Warrior's Code” by Dropkick Murphys plays and Celt comes down in his ring gear, prepared for a fight. He stares daggers into CGS from the ramp.

Smitten: Celt, this is not the time-

Celt: Oh, it's always the time, Christian. Once again you've felt the need to come out here and make yourself known. Why have you come back now? Aren't you happy being the big bad Commissioner? Why do you feel the need to stick your nose into my brand? It’s not even time for our match yet!

Smitten: Celt, this is bigger than you or I. Rest assured, I will defeat you to become the number one contender to the Ultraviolent title later tonight. But what I know, what I've learned... this is far more important.

Celt: Christian, your ego is the only thing bigger than our fight later on, and I really couldn't care less about that-

Smitten: Dammit, Celt! Celeste is dead!

Stunned silence.

Boice: What? Is this true? No! She can't be!

Flare: No... sexiness has lost someone today.

Celt: Wh-what? What!? Celeste Rousseau is-

Smitten: Murdered. And there's nothing we can do about it, legally speaking.

Celt: Murdered – but how? What do you mean, there's nothing we can do?

As if on cue, “Mother” by Danzig plays, and Jaro walks out, flanked by a gore-splattered Virus and Dunnwood. A few more intelligent members of the audience realise who has performed such a deed, and begin to voice their anguish. Jaro, for his part, is surprisingly sombre; the Virus and Dunnwood intimidating to the last. They approach the ring as the jeering heightens.

Jaro: I'm afraid Smitten is right, Celt; there is nothing we can do. My beloved, my betrothed, has been savaged by a monster.

Virus and Dunnwood exchange a knowing glance.

Jaro: She was found brutally torn to pieces inside our home, beside our crying infant. I swear to you, I will not rest until the killer has been given what is coming to him.

There is a pregnant pause. Then Celt speaks up.

Celt: You're lying.

Jaro looks aghast.

Jaro: How... how dare you? My wife is dead, and you accuse me of bullshitting? Do you need to see the body, Leprecock? Do you!?

Celt: I don't doubt that she's unfortunately deceased, Jason, and what a great tragedy it is... the tragedy being that scum like you ever tarnished her life.

Jaro: You're blaming me for Celeste's death? I assure you there is no blood on my hands.

Celt: Oh, but there is... on your left- and right-hand men!

Jaro looks back to Virus and Dunnwood, overtly shocked, Christian steps forward, steeping his temples.

Smitten: I've had enough of this three-ring circus. Celt, Celeste was killed in a case of pacta sunt servanda letalis certamen. It's an absolute, law-binding contract that allows one of the participants in the contract to be killed by the other or the party of another... all within the confines of the law. Not a jury in the world can convict the killer.

Celt: How do you know this?

Smitten: A certain someone was very interested in pressing on me the importance of keeping your new employer happy. They also wanted to ensure that their writing was watertight.

Celt: You... you helped with this atrocity?

Smitten: I had no choice.

Boice: Oh, god. PLEASE don’t tell me I’m hearing this right now.

Flare: Well, you are.

Celt: There is always a choice.

Boice: Celt speaking the truth.

Smitten: Not when my job is involved, Aidan! Not when I wouldn't be able to provide for my daughter.

Celt: No.. you're wrong. You're wrong, Christian! There's a better way, there always is. Can you not see sense?

Smitten: Celt, I had a certain professional fondness of Celeste. I assure you, if there were any other way...

Celt: I can see that you won't see sense... so I'll just have to beat it into you! When I'm done with you, Smitten, I'll have beaten your arse so far into the ground they'll be wondering why there's no crater around a certain flesh-coloured meteorite in China! I-

Jaro: A-hem...

Celt and Christian look down to Jaro, who is coming up to the ring, his sentinels behind him.

Jaro: If you gentlemen don't mind, I think this is my time to grieve.

Boice: GRIEVE?! JARO HAS THE AUDACITY TO GRIEVE AFTER ESSENTIALLY ADMITTING TO CELESTE’S MURDER?

Flare: Hey, don’t throw around unsubstantiated accusations, now! Jaro admitted nothing!

Boice: OH, SHUT UP!

Celt: Oh, you bastard...

He moves to strike Jaro, but Virus steps in his path, taking the shot.

Jaro: Stop, Celt! Unless you want to be fired right here and now!

Virus reels back, clutching at his mask, which has been chipped from the force of the blow dealt by the Irishman, who stands back, lips turned into a snarl.

Celt: Explain.

Jaro: It's simple. With the death of my wife, I assume direct control of her position in Full Metal Wrestling. You hit me... and you're hitting your new boss.

Boice: Oh god... Oh god, no... NO!

Flare: We’re back in a new Age of Jaro!

Celt: You set this all up, didn't you? Right from the very start...

Jaro: How very astute of you. You're not as stupid as you look, though that would be hard to accomplish. Since the fall of Original Sin, I've been plotting how to take back what is mine. I engineered Dunnwood as my sleeper agent, and to distract you all I unleashed my Virus across the Full Metal landscape. And now that the job is done, I have back my first and most precious creation. Now you two have a match to prepare for... so get the hell out of my ring.

Celt: You won't get away with this.

Jaro: I already have. Are you going to leave of your own free will, or will I have to call upon my personal security?

Dunnwood and Virus step forward, menacingly. Smitten shrugs his shoulders and leaves, followed a heartbeat later by Celt, an ugly scowl marring his features. Jaro turns to his subordinates.

Jaro: Now then, let us toast the life and death of my wife... by seeking out the appropriate response to the murderer. Dunnwood, as you know, you are blameless for the death of Celeste.

Dunnwood picks up Celt's dropped microphone.

Dunnwood: Indeed, Mr Roy. And I could not have achieved my current level without your assistance.

Jaro: Yes, about that. Seeing as how now the grand reveal has happened... I'm afraid you have outlived your usefulness.

Dunnwood falters.

Dunnwood: Do not be so hasty. Was it always your intention to betray me?

Jaro: I had reservations about it, but ultimately your lack of prowess within the ring, coupled with your erratic behaviour and vast knowledge of my inner circle, makes you too dangerous to keep around. Consider yourself lucky that I'm telling you this, because I owe you at least that much.

Dunnwood: I would have preferred your stabbing me in the back... you motherfucker!

He lunges at Jaro, who neatly sidesteps. Virus tackles Dunnwood to the floor, laying in lefts and rights. Jaro lays in the boots to Dunnwood, then rolls out of the ring and reaches under the apron, snatching up his banhammer.

Boice: Oh god, don't do it Jaro!

Flare: He needs to eliminate the weak link!

Jaro motions for Virus to hold up Dunnwood, who grips him by the arms, the Englishman's head lolling forward. He raises the hammer high above his head, then in a moment of pure silence brings it crashing down.

Boice: He just hit Dunnwood with the full force of his hammer! He could be dead!

Flare: All Jaro wants to do is to get it through his thick skull that he is no longer needed.

Dunnwood's body slumps and Virus tosses him down, in what could be considered disgust if the beast showed any emotion. Jaro looks upon his former student and with a horrific grimace turns and walks away to the ramp, Virus following on behind.

Boice: Where the hell are the EMTs? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Dunnwood needs some help out here!

Even as he speaks, two FMW officials in black shirts run down with a stretcher. They load Dunnwood up while Jaro waits, like a stalking panther. He snatches up a microphone.

Jaro: Let this be a message to you all, cuntnuggets. I am above the Law. I am above redemption. I am above everything. This is my house, and anybody who dares to defy me with be dealt with.

As the Englishman is brought out of the ring, Roy pounces, striking Dunnwood in the gut, again with the banhammer. The stretcher collapses and his pupil lies in a broken heap, awake now and screaming in agony at his surely crushed ribs. A bone-white sliver pokes out from under his left pectoral.

Flare: OK, even for me that's a little much.

Boice:God... Jaro is back. We don’t need to see this. God help us all. Let’s just... let’s just cut to commercial... dear God...

We return to Corruption with Celt and Smitten already in the ring for their match.

Boice: Ladies and gentlemen, you’re back with us here on what is now a somber Corruption. It has been brought to our attention by FMW Commissioner Christian G. Smitten that Celeste Rousseau-Roy has been murdered. And all evidence points to the Virus and Dunnwood as the perpetrators, with Jaro as the mastermind and Smitten a conspirator. The worst part is... Smitten, misusing his legal genius, drew up an obscure deal to ensure that the killing was legal. No, wait. The worst part is... Jaro has taken over FMW again.

Flare: Be careful what you throw around, Jack! Nothing’s been proven yet!

Boice: The hell are you talking about? They already admitted it before the break!

Flare: Still!

Boice: And it was all legal, which is why they were able to admit it!

Flare: Still!

Boice: *sigh* It’s time now for our main event, ladies and gentlemen. Our two competitors are already in that ring. Let’s just... let’s just get on with it.

Shelia Blige: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and the winner will be named the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER to the vacant FMW ULTRAVIOLENT CHAMPIONSHIP!

Shelia Blige: Introducing first from Castlebar, Ireland, weighing two hundred and fifteen pounds….He is The Law….THE CELT!

The crowd cheers for a very angry Celt.

Shelia Blige: And his opponent, from Salt Lake City, Utah weighing two hundred and ninety pounds…he is the FMW Commissioner and he is making his return to the ring…CHRISTIAN G. SMITTEN!

Boice: Celt absolutely leering at Smitten with utter hatred. And I don’t blame him one bit.

Flare: HEY, WHAT THE FUCK CELT?!?!?

Celt wastes no time getting the action started, as Celt begins to fire off rights and lefts before the bell could even ring.

Boice: Celt is really mad here and nobody in this world can blame him! Jaro is back on top and everyone was screwed!

Flare: Oh, enough with you! Just call the match like you always do!

Boice: I can’t! I actually cared about Celeste! I knew marrying Jaro was a grave mistake right from the start!

Flare: You’re just jealous.

Boice: How can you even condone this? Shame on you, Flare. For damn shame.

Celt yanks Smitten to his feet, and tries to Irish whip Smitten into the fan barrier. Smitten overpowers Celt and yanks him into a short-range Lariat. Smitten then removes his suit coat (which covers his Jack Swagger-esque attire) and begins stomping away. After a few seconds, Smitten quickly goes under the ring and yanks out some more violent weapons.

Flare: Well, it is for the Ultraviolent contendership. Smart move by the Commish.

Boice: He might as well attempt to commit physical murder.

Flare: You’re such a bummer, you know that? Just stop it.

Boice: And you’re a pathetic excuse for a human being.

Flare: One, that is not true. And Two, I’m the one with the deviant insults, not you. Three, I’ve been called a lot worse, so if you really want to insult me, you better step it up, son.

Boice: I’m not going to play this game.

Flare: Since you won’t do your job, let me carry this match, then. Smitten blasts Celt with a garbage can across the face!

Boice: Smitten makes me cringe with every move.

Flare: Look at that, Celt looks better already.

Boice: He’s got Celt now, and he slams him on the trash can!

Flare: See? You can do your job despite being all emo!

Smitten doesn’t even go for the pin, instead grabbing the steel steps and lifting them above his head. As Celt rises, Smitten shows some serious power in forcefully tossing them right into the Irishman’s face. The sickening ‘THUD’ and the subsequent instead bloodflow has the crowd growing into a frenzy.

Flare: POW! RIGHT IN THE KISSER! I told you, one of these days…

Boice: Celt’s taken worse, but he’s not looking too good out there.

Flare: I established his ugliness a long time ago!

Boice: Smitten showing the cockiness now, that damn, demonic cockiness, he’s gonna lift Celt again-NO! Celt pulls him into the ring apron face-first! Celt is trying to capitalize now. Go, Celt! Destroy him!

Flare: Fight him back, Smitten! Lawyer his ass! No Homo! And whatever happened to you being impartial?

Boice: There is no honor in supporting a murderer.

Flare: He didn’t murder Celeste! And besides, I heard you cried your heart out when Benoit killed himself!

Boice: Either way, he might as well have… CELT STRIKES WITH THE CASTLEBAR KISS, STUNNING SMITTEN! YES! Smitten is to a knee, and Celt spikes him on the garbage can with a quick Michinoku Driver!

Flare: If he injures Smitten, he’s gon’ get sued.

Celt reaches under the ropes and pulls out a shillelagh. As Smitten rises to his feet, Celt strikes him in the ribs, doubling him over, and then blasts him in the back of the head with the weapon, as the ‘CRACK’ of the weapon echoes through the arena. Celt rolls a dazed Smitten into the ring and starts loading up the ring with any weapon he can find, chairs, table, tool box, etc.

Flare: Ultraviolence has its limits!

Boice: At least it has limits.

Flare: STOP BEING EMO.

Boice: Shut up.

Flare: Just call the damn match before you get a ‘slap the shit out of you’ five.

Celt with the Irish Whip, he tries to hiptoss Smitten over, but Smitten blocks it and crushes Celt with a huge spinning sidewalk slam. Smitten goes for the first cover of the match, only getting two.

Boice: Celt barely got the shoulder up, I think that slam might’ve injured a rib or something.

Flare: Stay on him Smitten!

Boice: Smitten now has a kendo stick, and brutal shots across the back and ribs! He’s clearly prepping for the Switchbomb, Smitten’s devastating version of the Gutwrench Powerbomb.

Flare: Good. Ring psychology 101, fags.

Boice: Smitten off the ropes and he drops a huge elbow across the back of Celt! Celt is obviously smarting here but he doesn’t know what quitting means. Thank God for the Celt.

Flare: He should buy a dictionary then.

Smitten holds his arms up to boos as Celt crawls away to gain distance before returning to the fight. Smitten advances onto him but Celt ANNIHILATES Smitten with the ‘Long Arm of the Law’!

Boice: MY GOD WHAT A LARIATO! Smitten has no idea where he is!

Flare: He’s on roids. No way should he have been able to take Smitten off his feet with that sort of ease. NONE! I’m calling it now he’s on that shit!

Boice: If you mean on his comeback shit, then maybe.

Flare: Hardy-har-har.

Boice: Smitten is still stunned and Celt goes for a cover! ONE, TWO, Smitten gets the shoulder up!

Flare: See? That’s why he’s the judge and jury…now if only he could become the executioner…

Boice: He WAS the damn executioner, weren’t you listening? Celt refuses to allow any of it, he’s got a chair now, and he attacks the legs of Smitten to weaken the vertical base! Sharp chair jab to the knee sends Smitten down!

Celt, after another good shot for good measure, applies an Inverted Cloverleaf and cinches in. Blood streams down his face as Celt roars loudly, screaming for Smitten to quit. Smitten, who is clearly in pain, reaches for the ropes. Lucky for him, he’s rather tall so he doesn’t have far to go. Until Celt pulls him back a little, that is.

Boice: Smitten is in trouble here, and he’s got a nasty gash on the back of his head! HOW DOES IT FEEL NOW?

Flare: Jesus, u mad? That had to have come from that shillelagh shot.

Boice: Yes. Yes, I am mad. I thought I established that already.

Flare: Smitten is reaching, he’s reaching, HE’S GOT THE ROPES!

Boice: Grr.

Flare: There’s no DQ though, Celt doesn’t have to let go! Damn these lack of rules!

Boice: Oh, you love it!

Flare: Look at the agility!

Smitten manages to roll onto his back and send Celt out of the ring on leg strength alone. Celt is a little shaken but he quickly rolls into the ring after Smitten. Celt goes to lift for the Brutality Driver, but Smitten elbows out and staggers Celt with a forearm to the kidneys. Smitten then grabs a toolbox and as Celt turns around…

BAM!

And tools go flying as Celt falls limp.

Boice: SMITTEN CRACKED HIM!

Flare: Cover! Cover!

Boice: Smitten gets the lateral press! ONE, TWO, THR-NO! Celt kicked out!

Flare: The hell?!!? End him!

Boice: I think Smitten is looking for that now! Dammit!

Smitten sets up a table as the crowd rises to its feet. Smitten gives a cut-throat signal as he arrogantly kicks Celt in the face. He yanks Celt to his feet and buries a knee to his stomach before setting up for the Switchbomb.

Boice: Smitten has it now, he’s looking for the nail in the coffin! NO! DON’T LET THE MURDERER WIN, CELT!

Flare: I love arrogance as much as the next guy, but end it now Smitten! End it so you can fight for the UV title against the Michelin Man and Schizo bitch!

Boice: He’s looking to put him through the table, that’ll most definitely be it! He lifts!

Flare: YES…NOOOO!!!

Boice: CELT COUNTERED! HE’S GOT HIM UP! BRUTALITY DRIVER THROUGH THE TABLE! YES! HE HAD IT COMING!

Flare: How did he pull that off??!!?

Boice: Celt has to make a cover here, he just has to! He manages to shoot the half and he collapses onto Smitten! ONE, TWO, THREE!!! YES! THE CELT HAS PULLED THE UPSET! CELT HAS AVENGED CELESTE! YES!

Shelia Blige: HERE IS YOUR WINNER, AND NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE FMW ULTRAVIOLENT TITLE…THEEEEEE CELLLLLLLTTTTT!!!!!!

The Celt (8.07 aps + 1.1 avs = 9.17 total)
Christian G. Smitten (8.22 aps + 0.9 avs = 9.12 total)

“The Warrior’s Code” by Dropkick Murphys hits as Celt pulls himself away from the downed Smitten, with a look of disgust on his face. He rolls out of the ring and doesn’t look happy about his win at all.

Boice: IF ONLY FOR TONIGHT, CELESTE HAS BEEN AVENGED!

Flare: Jesus christ, will you stop it?

Boice: NO! NOT EVEN CELT CAN FEEL HAPPY FOR HIS HUGE VICTORY HERE! HE’S GOT EVERY RIGHT TO BE HAPPY, TO CELEBRATE, BUT HE CANNOT!

Flare: Dammit, stop shouting!

Boice: If only for tonight, Team Jaro has gotten their comeuppance. A small measure of justice was served here. Smitten may be a lawyer and the commissioner, but Celt has proven that he is still the damn Law around here.

Flare: Oh, make it even more difficult why don’t you!

The camera shows Celt holding his hands up in victory as Smitten sits up, scowling towards the Celt, who still looks disgusted at him.

Boice: Ladies and gentlemen, Corruption is not over yet, unfortunately. Harley Quint will finally be making his retirement on-air after the break.

Flare: Will you please stop being emo nao?

Boice: Ladies and gentlemen, you’re back live with us on Corruption... and it has been an emotionally taxing night.

Flare: Oh god, here we go again. I can’t wait until this show is over.

Boice: Earlier, we have heard that Jaro masterminded a plan to legally murder his wife, Celeste Rousseau-Roy. I use the word “legally” because he has had FMW Commissioner Christian G. Smitten draw up a deal using some ancient legal precedent that allows them to get away with murder with no criminal consequences.

Flare: God...

Boice: And all of this was done so that Jaro could take over FMW again, which he has.

Flare: Enough already...

Boice: Very well. Tonight, we’ve got a living FMW legend retiring. Just... take it away, Sheila.

We go to Sheila, standing in the middle of the ring.

Sheila Blige: Ladies and gentlemen, it is now my pleasure to introduce our current FMW Ultraviolent Champion, please give a warm round of applause to the one and only... DOCTOR HARLEY... QUINT!!!

”Voodoo” by Godsmack plays and Harley Quint comes out, with the Ultraviolent Championship belt slung on his shoulder, to huge pops. However, Harley doesn’t look very happy.

Boice: And there’s our retiring champ. He doesn’t look happy.

Flare: Can I guess why?

Boice: You already know why.

Flare: More emos!

Boice: Exactly.

Harley gets in the ring and gets the mic from Sheila.

Harley: Well... I guess it’s safe to say that it’s been a rough night.

Boice: It has been indeed.

Flare: Oh, shut up.

Harley: I thought it was already going to be sad enough being that this is my last Corruption show... for the time being, as well... but then we get this news.

Boice: Indeed.

Flare: I said shut up!

Harley: Now... I’m not going to make excuses for Jaro. I don’t condone what he did, but I don’t think I’m in any place to condemn him either. You all know how I was before.

Boice: But you changed. For the better.

Flare: For fuck’s sake, Jack, let the man keep talking!

Harley: But enough about Jaro. This is supposed to be my retirement speech.

Flare: Thank you.

Harley: I may not have been the most likeable person back in the day. Okay, I know I wasn’t. But I’d like to think that I’ve changed now. And I’m glad to have had one last run at this glorious championship as plain old Dr. Harley Quint. Not... as Harlequin.

The crowd pops for him.

Harley: That said, if there is one thing I regret about my entire FMW career, especially after all that has been revealed tonight, I can say that it is my one utmost regret to have ever associated with Jason Roy. It is my utter regret to have ever allied with that poor shell of a man, that pitiful, vile excuse for a human being.

Flare: Oh, that’s just low.

Boice: Burn.

The crowd cheers loudly for it, though.

Harley: And that is why I would like to take the time to dedicate my Ultraviolent Championship and this last reign to the memory of Celeste. She... never deserved what happened to her. She didn’t know any better. That was not her fault. I just hope whoever holds this title next does justice to it and her memory.

Harley bows his head down and raises the Ultraviolent championship high in the air with one hand.

Harley: Everyone, please join me in a moment of silence.

Flare: What? Now this is just corny.

Boice: Hush.

After the moment of silence passes, Harley lifts his head.

Harley: Now, everyone. TO CELESTE!

Boice: TO CELESTE!

Everyone else in the audience follows suit.

Harley: And now... I’ve got nothing more to say. Thank you for the memories, FMW. Thank you to Corruption, which has long been my home ever since it used to be called Anarchy. Thank you to everyone in the back. Drew, Hanny, Andrew, Alex... you know who you people are, there’s just too many to list, but know that I appreciate you all.

The crowd cheers.

Harley: Now, if I may borrow a heavily used cliche, please?

Flare: Uh-oh. I think I know what’s coming next.

Harley: Ladies and gentlemen, Harley Quint... has left the buil-

Before he can finish the phrase, however, ”Mother” by Danzig plays as Jaro and Virus come out to huge boos. Jaro has a mic.

Boice: Oh, god. No. Not now. Not now, Jaro!

Flare: Hah! Boss comes back to play!

Jaro: Aww... how sweet.

Harley: What the hell do you want, Jason?

Jaro: Well, I was listening to your corny little speech and I can’t help but notice but you took the time to trash me, Quint.

Harley: Hah. Well, you can’t deny that you deserve it.

Jaro: Hmm? I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.

Harley: Sure.

Jaro: Don’t be coy with me, Quint. I don’t care if you’re retiring, I can still beat you down if I wanted to!

Harley: Oh, really? Because I don’t mind if it’s my last night, I can still take you on.

Jaro: Is that so?

Harley: You bet your ass it’s so.

Jaro: Well then, Virus, you heard the man!

Virus doesn’t need to be told twice as he charges down the ramp, followed by Jaro behind him. He gets in the ring and starts to brawl with Harley.

Boice: Damn! He’s already retiring but they’re still beating him up!

Flare: He did say he was fine with it!

Jaro quickly follows and it becomes a two-on-one!

Boice: And now they’re both beating down on Harley! Somebody help here!

Flare: You can’t cross the boss, or else you’re out of a job, Jack! Remember that!

Boice: Dammit!

All of a sudden, the crowd cheers as we see Celt come rushing down from the ramp, with his shillelagh in hand!

Boice: It’s Celt! Celt has come to save the day!

Flare: Don’t be stupid, leprecan’t! You don’t want to lose your job!

Celt slides into the ring and starts brawling with Virus as Jaro beats down on Harley! Virus goes for a big boot but Celt ducks it and swings hard with his shillelagh, swiping Virus’s mask very hard, damaging it even further!

Boice: Celt’s already got two on Virus!

Celt sends Virus running to the ropes and gives him a big boot to send him out of the ring! Jaro looks over from his beatdown on Harley and sees that he’s now outnumbered, and rolls out of the ring!

Boice: That’s right, you old rat, you better run!

Flare: A tactical retreat!

Celt helps Harley up as the two stand tall in the ring, but Celt keeps his distance from the now-former Ultraviolent champion. The crowd cheers for the two as Jaro backs up the ramp, furious at the interference by Celt.

Boice: We’ve seen the beginning of a new reign of terror, but we have also proven that there will be warriors fighting for what is right and just!

Flare: Blah blah blah!

Boice: We’re running out of time here, but at least I can say that this night hasn’t been all bad! From Melbourne, Australia, this has been Corruption! For my partner Flare, my name is Jack Boice, and God bless you, Celeste! Good night!

OOC: And that, ladies and gentlemen, has been the show.

We apologize for the delay of such a simple show, but it's finally here and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you to those who have helped out.

There are so many things I want to say, but there's only one thing that I need to say: Rest in Peace Celeste, you will be missed

The Celt wrote:

There are so many things I want to say, but there's only one thing that I need to say: Rest in Peace Celeste, you will be missed

Maybe you should start saying your prayers, because soon enough you'll be face to face with me and I'll have my shot to become the first ever to hold the Abandoned Championship and the Ultraviolent Championship.

I refuse to say much. I don't want people's opinions of me to be compromised. The one comment I will make is, this is the fucking story of my career here in FMW.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Hell of a show. Glad that seg was utilised.

Tromboner Man wrote:

I refuse to say much. I don't want people's opinions of me to be compromised. The one comment I will make is, this is the fucking story of my career here in FMW.

OOC: Is this OOC?

OOC: soild show.

IC:

What the hell did I sign up for? I don't care what brand I'm on, you had a solid wrestling show here tonight but A woman has been murdered and the killer is gonna get away with it. I did alot of things I'm not proud of in my old job but I never would hurt a woman, let alone kill one.

That said, I did sign an FMW contract and I will continue on but this day will not be forgotten, I can assure you.

OOC: Good showing for Corruption.... Celt holding a belt!! About Damn time!!

Storm: Well this certainly changes things.

I never realised that murdering your wife after a big event on that magnitude is classed as "legal".

Hilarious.

Omega wrote:

The Celt wrote:

There are so many things I want to say, but there's only one thing that I need to say: Rest in Peace Celeste, you will be missed

Maybe you should start saying your prayers, because soon enough you'll be face to face with me and I'll have my shot to become the first ever to hold the Abandoned Championship and the Ultraviolent Championship.

Could you at least pay some respect to Celeste before rushing into the trash talk? I mean, Gods Omega, come on

Axel Van Osbourne wrote:

OOC: Good showing for Corruption.... Celt holding a belt!! About Damn time!!

Don't have it quite yet

I pay my respect the way she'd want me to pay respect, and the same way she'd want you to pay respect.

And that's by us getting in the ring and blowing away the fans.

I'd like to pay my respect to Celeste: Rest in Peace. Although the bitch really did get what was coming to her for trying to overshadow my debut.

Now, it seems you already have a resident Big Bad out here. New age of Jaro? Sorry to enlighten all of you, but if you're looking at the revised Chinese Zodiac, you'll find that pretty soon it's going to be the Year of the Fox.

No, no, no David, you've got it all wrong, mate. The people who actually hired you back then and then thought you would amount to anything, they were the stupid ones. For all your wins, when the chips are down, when you're supposed to show your hand and give it all you've got, you simply choke like a cheap whore. And not the good kind of cheap whore (if there is such a thing), the leprous, one toothed, transvestite kind. Here today, gonorrhea tomorrow and all that.

David GS wrote:

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Nancy, settle down. Wasn't trying to start something, bro - whether you like it or not, it was stupid, either because you were poking the proverbial bear in Jaro or because the fox isn't one of the animals listed in the Chinese Zodiac. Or both - maybe you're just bad at this.

And as far as the Gold Card Gauntlet, which I'm sure is what you're talking about, I did a hell of a lot better than you're likely to have done. Come back and try playing that "DGS is overrated" card after Distortion, when I'm the new Television Champion and still undefeated in singles competition.

Did you not actually notice that I put in the word "Revised" there, mate? In the Revised zodiac, it's all about the Fox. You know, write your own destiny, and all that jazz? Also, should we all be afraid of Jaro, then? Is it a bad move to be poking the bear? What can I say, baby, I've always been bad.

I've just given you a few free shots - Bad at wrestling, bad at life, and all that. But your style is the true political prancery, isn't it? Provoke and deny, provoke and deny. It doesn't matter which country you're even from, you can out-America the best of them.

Stop living in denial, mate. The whole "Undefeated in singles competition" line is just another term for "I almost won all my matches." Stop being such a bitch; man up and bloody well admit it.

On two separate occasions now, you've made provocative remarks,and then claimed you weren't "trying to get a rise out of me". Mr. Ostrich, my what a long neck you have, is it all warm and fuzzy there in the sand?

I'm sorry, mate. Do the 'bloodies' and 'soddings' make me sound angry, or even slightly annoyed? I'm just taking the piss out of you, you know that, don't you? I wouldn't expect you to get the Ostrich metaphor, since it's hard to understand stuff while you're head is buried in the sand, in any case.

Also, one last thing: Don't be ridiculous. Everyone loves this hair. Everyone.

If it's one thing I don't like, it's disrespectful assholes like you Fox. You think your some star for interrupting jobbers? Try interrupting my match and see what happens.