Anarchy 7.1 - RESULTS

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The laughter erupts through the arena silencing the roaring Dublin crowd. As the silence sits heavy upon the crowd the lights dim, fading to black before a single red flood light focuses at the top of the ramp. The angle obscures the man standing in the center of the light, but the heinous laugh mere seconds earlier leaves no doubt in anyone’s mind.

Harlequin: Welcome to HavOc! Our time is now and our time is forever more. HavOc is Anarchy. From the grasps of our hellish paws there will be no escape, no mercy, no salvation. Only damnation. Anarchy is HavOc. But let me expound upon something first. We do not want Anarchy. No. We have no desires to run things into the ground like the Black Covenant or horde power like Original Sin. Oh no no no. What we plan do to is create sheer and utter ruinous damage. After all we are unpredictably vicious and cunningly disturbing.

Harlequin: So with that in mind riddle me this. Who is that locker room is going to step up and try to put an end to the hell we are going to create? Chris Kelson? My dear friend Hannibal will undoubtedly tear that poor “Rising Star” limb from limb. Next! The Fighting Irish? Old News. They have already suffered the consequences of crossing HavOc, and for some reason their drunken, inbred, Irish minds seem to think the second time will be different. The only difference is the amount of blood left in their body. Andrew is a little angsty to get going after having last week off. So enjoy the beer bottle in the throat Celty, I will.

Harlequin: Now let’s throw in a few more examples just to educate everyone. Clearly everyone in the back room is smart enough to stay the fuck away as no one has dared interrupt yet. By the end of tonight I have a predication. Nay! A personal guarantee. Tonight I become the embodiment of Anarchy. I become HavOc and HavOc becomes Ultraviolent!

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Harlequin: As we speak, two of my three compatriots are about to be on their way to a neat little pub, specifically picked out for not only it’s location, but it’s poetic history. Care to enlighten the miscreants?

Stepping out from the curtains and taking place beside Harlequin the rest of HavOc, Syanide and Mercutio, emerge. Grabbing the microphone from his teammate the recently masked Syanide begins to speak.

Syanide: Kehoe’s Pub. South Anne Street. We’ll be waiting for you Mick Fucks.

Syanide drops the mic onto the steel ramp, much to the applause of Harlequin and the chagrin of Mercutio who stoops to pick up the fallen mic.

Mercutio: Hey bigguns watch it, I needed this. Lepre-can’t, bring your little runt brother and your slut goddess. Bring whatever you can think of. Fuck bring the whole Irish nation, I’ll even wear a Union Jack, you’ll all be so busy killing yourselves I’ll just invade and occupy you for another couple of hundred years.

A chorus of boos ring out through the arena, the Irish crowd clearly not taking a liking to Mercutio making light of their chequered past.

Mercutio: I kid. But in all seriousness, I’m serious, bring whatever you can. Cuz I’m bringing the two greatest weapons in any arsenal. My trusty baseball bat, bloodstains and all. And this masked motherfucker right here, I bet you guys don’t have one of these!

Harlequin: You see “Fighting Irish” you’ve crossed us once and we had hoped to make examples out of you. But for some reason you’ve decided to come back for more, so we have a special present for you. John Kehoe lived in the bar until he died, so don’t you think it’s appropriate for us to continue the tradition of Irish-men dyeing in the building? Your demises will be pleasant. For us. Enjoy.

Syanide: This is only the beginning. After this, the tag belts are ours. It doesn’t matter who’s bodies we have to turn into corpses for that to happen, those belts will be firmly placed around our waists, once and for all. There shall be HavOC and there will be no quarter given.

Syanide and Mercutio turn to leave, once again making Harlequin the only member of HavOc left on the ramp. Slowly he begins to walk down the ramp arriving at the floor of the ring.

Harlequin: So let’s see. Talked about the Ultraviolent Championship...Check. Rant about Ruinous Damage...Check. Destroy the Fighting Irish...Murder...Death...Kill...Check. Get the Tag Title...Check-a-roo. AH! Last and most certainly not least, and its last only because it’s on the bottom of this list, is the precious C-4 Title. Now I know a lot of people on Alchemy are probably bitching and whining about how they want their title back. About how the C-4 belongs on Alchemy, but that’s where you are wrong. The C-4 Title belongs to HavOc regardless of who is keeping it warm for the time being. So with that in mind, let me introduce someone to all you.

With no further prompting Hannibal Frost emerges from backstage and begins walking down to the ring, set to accompany Harlequin, who smile is beaming with joy, a far cry from its typical malevolence.

Harlequin: Now the man you see before me is none other than Hannibal Frost. And while he was a very short lived C-4 Champion...for now...all that has changed. Tell em’ Hanny.

Hannibal: ‘Preciate it guv’. Harley here is right. It has all changed. My title run was embarrassing, at best. But that was then, this is the present. The old Hannibal didn’t stand a blokes chance in Hell, but I’m not the old Hannibal. HavOc approached me, offered me guidance. Above that they offered me a family, a family which will help me regain MY C-4 Title very soon.

Harlequin: Most certainly true. HavOc was proud to take such a devilishly clever man such as yourself and begin to bring him under our wing. It’s time to embrace the evil that flows through your brain and your very soul and redirect it into a simply mission. Chaos, Anarchy, HavOc!

Hannibal: I couldn’t agree more. Let the games begin guv’.

At the mention of the games beginning Harlequin stops dead in his tracks. A wry half smirk emerging on his face as a slight chuckle escapes his lips.

Harlequin: Brilliant idea Hanny. You haven’t been officially welcomed into HavOc yet. So what do you say we give these people a little excitement and...LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

The lights in the arena dim once more. The sounds of muffled struggling can be heard as well as the faint sound of construction. As the lights begin to fade back in it can be seen that there are three booths set up. One in the ring, one beside the announce table and a third on the opposite side of the ring. Each booth is covered by a crimson curtain. Harlequin, excitement coursing through his body grabs Hannibal by the arm and directs him to the booth outside the ring closest to the ramp. Pulling down the curtain reveal Chuckles, arms and legs outstretched and bound to the walls of the booth.

Hannibal: You’re not serious.

Harlequin: Like Mercutio’s ED. Now step right up. Our first game is easy. Grab a dart. You have 5 shots. Piercing the belly button is an automatic pass. A nipple is worth 5 points. An eyeball worth 10 and the Adam’s Apple is worth 15. Anything else is 2. You need 30 points to pass this portion of the initiation. GO!

The first dart flew through the air piercing the skin under a floating rib scoring Hannibal two points. Not wanting to run out of time and unsure if there was a time limit Hannibal launches the second dart into the right tricep of the strung up Chuckles bringing his score to 4. As the next two darts hit a nipple each Hannibal settles into a score of 14, 16 points off advancement. Unphased he closes his eyes launching the final dart, piercing the naval cavity of Chuckles who releases a deafening cry of pain.

Harlequin: Success, now quickly move into the ring for round 2!

Harlequin strides over and unties the bloody and wounded Chuckles and tosses him into the ring. Ducking in behind the curtain temporarily there is again the muffled sound of struggle before Harlequin re-emerges. Pulling back the curtain reveals a set of 5 golf balls, a driver and Chuckles, bound to the walls with his mouth pried open.

Harlequin: You’re objective here is simple, knock out 7 teeth. You have 5 shots.

Taking hold of the driver Hannibal checks the wind before settling down to take aim. As he pulls into his backswing a familiar voice interrupts the HavOc initiation.

Hostyle: Just stop. Please, for the sake of everyone here, and especially myself, just stop. These people paid to see one thing tonight. Innovation. We’re all tired of you. Your laugh, your smile, your little group of evil-doers. Hell if I hadn’t of come out here right now you would have kept going, thinking people actually enjoyed what you were doing. People are in these seats right here because they want to see one thing. Me defend MY title. My C-4 Title. If you remember correctly, and I’m sure your ankle does Frost, I took back what was rightfully mine from a certain no one. On top of that people want to see a champion defend their title successfully something which is going to always allude you Frost, no matter who you surround yourself with. So please, clear of my stage so the big boys can play. I’m sick of all the hot air that escapes your mouths. Make use of yourself and go find a rafter to hang yourselves from while I display what it is to be a champion for all of Anarchy to see.

Hannibal: I believe something is owed to me with regards to my shiny belt there. Wouldn’t you say so?

Hostyle: You mean your precious little rematch? A rematch which you will probably squander much like everything else you have ever done with your career. I’ll get around to that when I damn well feel like it. So maybe when I’m having a really boring day and I need a retarded sheep to fight I’ll give you your rematch, but until then I have better things to worry about than some never-was.

Harlequin: Quite clever Hostyle, I’ll give you that. But you’re forgetting something. You are out of your element. This isn’t Alchemy where you are safe and sound. This is Anarchy, this is my home. So you can try and manipulate HavOc all you want. Try until your little Puerto Rican heart is content but it will do you no good. The slate is wiped clean and now you are nothing . The new face of Alchemy becomes the shit on the shoes of Anarchy.

Hannibal: So when we deem your time is up, guess what? You’re done. So waste your time preciously because each second with that belt could be your last. It could also be the last breath you take without an iron lung so take that into consideration as well.

Harlequin: Nice reference.

Hannibal: Yeah that book you gave me really helped.

Harlequin: I thought it might.

Hannibal: Regardless of what control you think you have on Anarchy Hostyle the reality is this: You are nothing and HavOc is your demise. When we want our title match we will simply take it, and if anyone thinks there is a thing they can do about it, they will face the repercussions, and we will love every minute of it.

Harlequin: But we aren’t unfeeling men over here in HavOc. I’ll tell you what, I’m going to do you a favour. You see there’s a giant target on your back Hostyle, it’s big and red and white, but here’s what I’m going to do. What WE are going to do. What we are going to do is just take that target from your back and place it square on ours. This will save you some trouble, trust us, we have your best interest in mind after all. So you just go and sit down and let the big boys play okay Shit-Shoe?

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?: Oh can the fucking laugh Clown.

Appearing at the top of the stage to complete the quartet was Chris Austin, Hostyle’s soon to be adversary.

Austin: Has everyone just forgotten about the match that we have going on here? About how I am challenging for the C-4 Title? I am one of the fastest rising stars in this federation and tonight I am going to prove why by bringing down the Innovator himself. But wait, there’s more. I’ve brought chairs!

The three men in the room exchange quick, puzzled glances before looking back to Chris Austin who was beginning his descent down the ramp.

Austin: In mere moments I’m going to stop history from repeating itself. I am going to show I have learned from my mistakes in the Elimination Chamber and I am going to dissect you Hostyle in ways you have never imagined. When your body is lying limp in the middle of the ring I will be crowned the new C-4 Champion and Harlequin will be right about at least one thing. The C-4 title will stay right here at home with me.

Harlequin: Yeah yeah we get it, what’s with the chairs?

Austin: Oh these? These are presents. This way you and Hannibal over there can watch from ringside as I destroy not only Hostyle but any plans for carnage you may have had. With you at ringside I’ll be able to watch the hopes and dreams of three people crash and burn instead of one. Three is just more satisfying than one. And after I will and hoist that belt and you remain powerless to stop me, I’ll give you a match, anytime and anywhere against any member of HavOc, you just name it and I’ll be there.

Harlequin and Hannibal look at each other momentarily, sharing a tacit agreement before turning back to look at Chris Austin, both with large smiles on their face.

Harlequin: We accept. And we will hold you to it. HavOc is like an elephant, we never forget.

Harlequin and Hannibal slide out of the ring accepting the chairs from Chris Austin who mocks dusting them off after setting them up at ringside. Austin proceeds to slide into the ring while Hostyle is still yelling at the duo of Harlequin and Hannibal to move. The two men remain motionless, smiles plastered on their faces as they watch the scene in front of them unfolding.

Austin, seeing that Hostyle is still distracted by the duo at ringside takes advantage of the situation and charges at the Self-Proclaimed Innovator, blindsiding him and knocking him to the floor and the bell sounds beginning the match.

Larsen: And Austin wasting no time! But Hostyle is back up quick!

Morpheus: Hostyle waving a finger at Austin. Seems as if Hostyle knows that this match can't be won by Austin.

Larsen: I'd say it's a case of ego, Morph'. Austin jumps into a second tie up, but Hostyle slips away again; this time locking Austin into a full-nelson... but he let him go!

Morpheus: Hostyle's playin' with the kid. Our C-4 Champion is so wickedly talented.

Austin looks out into the crowd and smirks. The crowd pops as Austin bounces from foot to foot on the mat.

Larsen: Austin better be ready this time. There's the lock up, but Austin pulls away and slips behind Hostyle! He's trying for an armbar, but Hostyle holds out for dear life.

Morpheus: That armbar can easily flow into the Rated R.C.A.; which would be the worst thing possible at the moment.

Larsen: A couple of stiff right hands by Hostyle and the situation reverses. Hostyle with a lock on that arm and now he's flowing into a sleeper-

Morpheus: But Austin quickly breaks out of it with a sit-out chin breaker. Hostyle staggers back and Austin whips him into the ropes...

Larsen: Austin hooks for the hiptoss, but the momentum only carries Hostyle back onto his feet! Hostyle hooks for his own hip toss and executes a reverse DDT!

Hostyle quickly covers for the pin.

Larsen: He's going for it, but the referee only gets a one count. Austin might just have a chance!

Morpheus: Austin has a better chance of winning Rock of Love on VH1!

Larsen: Hostyle bringing Austin to his feet, but Austin quickly breaks out with a standing drop kick to the neck of Hostyle...

Morpheus: And now that bastard is running the ropes. A jump over Hostyle, a rebound, Hostyle is up... and Hostyle cuts his momentum with a back body neckbreaker drop!

Hostyle quickly covers Austin for his second pin attempt of the night.

Larsen: A pin, but Austin quickly kicks out before the two count. He's not giving up this early.

Morpheus: He should... Hostyle is getting pissed.

Larsen: Hostyle has Austin by the hair; a couple of knees to the midsection and there's the irish whip to the ropes.

Morpheus: Look, Hostyle is smart; the more energy he wears outta' the kid, the easier the final pin will be.

Larsen: Could be... and Hostyle takes to the air with a spinning forearm-

Morpheus: Austin ducks! He's rebounding off the ropes and delivers a sickening knee to the temple of Hostyle. I call unsportsman like conduct!

Austin bounces to his feet and throws up "L.A." to the crowd. They pop for the new Anarchist; the cheers overshadowing the sound of Hostyle sneaking up behind him.

Larsen: Oh no, Austin can't hear the snake in the grass. Hostyle leaps for his prey, but Austin catches him with a super kick to the sternum!

Austin, barely taking the time to down Hostyle, continues to showboat for the crowd.

Morpheus: You know, both of these guys are a little conceided... and that is totally okay.

Larsen: Austin covers Hostyle for the pin... but only gets a two count! Hostyle seems to be in pain, though; he's clutching his chest like something might be broken.

Morpheus: The innovator doesn't break; he innovates!

Larsen: Well he better do it fast; Austin just hit the top turnbuckle. He's off with a corkscrew backflip frogsplash!

Austin leaves the turnbuckle, but Hostyle sees it just in time.

Morpheus: The Innovator of Innovation dodged it!

Larsen: And there is no time wasted in locking on that Inverted Figure Four Toe Hold.

Morpheus:The impact from the fall and now from the hold is driving Austin towards tapping out!

Austin raises his hand up and brings it down; only to have it stop just an inch before the mat.

Larsen: But Austin holds on!

Morpheus: And now he's inching his way to the ropes. What an asshole!

Larsen: Austin is stretching out, but I don't think he's gonna' make it...

Wait! He's got a pinky on the bottom rope!

The referee jumps over and begins breaking up the hold.

Morpheus: Hostyle is enraged! Austin wasn't suppose to be putting up this much of a fight.

Hostyle gets up, but kneels back down to check on Austin. He looks worried.

Larsen: Is Austin hurt? Why is Hostyle even worried about it?

Morpheus: In any case, he's got the referee checking on it.

Hostyle slides out of the ring and goes under the apron.

Larsen: Hostyle has a chair!

Morpheus: Gonna' introduce a little innovative anarchy!

Back in the ring, Austin is visibly fine, but is getting pissed at the referee. Getting to his feet, Austin shoves the referee to the ground and knocks him for a loop.

Larsen: Austin taking out his frustration on the referee! He doesn't even see Hostyle!

Morpheus: That smart, naturally tan son of a bitch is ready with the chair. He's unfolding it... and setting it on the mat?

Larsen: Oh no, Hostyle is waiting for Austin to turn around.

Austin turns around and Hostyle grabs him from over the chair. Austin breaks free with an uppercut.

Larsen: Austin breaking away from the hold... and, using the chair as an elevator, Austin hits a heel kick!

The impact sends Hostyle through the second rope and to the outside. Austin, seeing that the referee is stirring, slides the chair out of the ring before collapsing to a knee.

Morpheus: Looks like Austin is a bit winded; the veteren might be a bit too much for him to handle.

Larsen: Your veteran is the one lying in a heap in front of us.

Morpheus: Not anymore, Hostyle is up and on the apron.

Larsen: Austin sees him and locks him in for a suplex over the ropes, but Hostyle lands back on his feet! Hostyle rebounds, but Austin catches him with an Inverted Flowing Powerslam!

Austin goes for the pin.

Morpheus: One, two... Yes! Hostyle gets the shoulder up!

Austin hits the mat in frustration, but immediately goes for an armbar on the downed Hostyle.

Larsen: Austin trying to lock in the Rated R.C.A., but Hostyle is refusing to let it happen!

Morpheus: The Innovator is struggling; I think Austin might actually lock it in.

Hostyle begins to battle to his feet, but Austin forces him back down.

Larsen: Austin is doing his damn best to lock in that hold, but Hostyle won't give in.

Morpheus: Of course not! It's not in the job description of a C-4 Champion to give up.

Hostyle flips over and bridges back to his feet, catching Austin off-guard with an arm drag.

Larsen: Whoa; tricky move there. Although, Austin is up immediately and sprinting towards Hostyle. This is going to be a collision for the ages!

Austin charges, but Hostyle slips behind him at the last second.

Morpheus: There it is! The Hostyle Hysteria!

Larsen: Hostyle is going for the pin! One, two, THREE!

Cherry: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND STILL C4 CHAMPION...HOSTYLE!
Hostyle (8.28 aps + 1.8 avs = 10.08 total)
Chris Austin (8.18 aps + 0.6 avs = 8.78 total)

Hostyle jumps up as "Renegade" hits the P.A. for the second time tonight. Anon hands Hostyle his title through the ropes.

Larsen: And Chris Austin came too close to an upset tonite.

Morpheus: But of course, the Innovator That Rises Like An Elevator pulled it off!

Larsen: Now you're just getting rediculous.

Through the music, a slow clapping can be heard. The music begins to fade, cutting off Hostyle's post match celebration.

Larsen: Who the- it's HavOc!

At the bottom of the ramp, Hannibal Frost and Harlequin stand with mics in hand.

Hannibal Frost: Bravo... bravo.

Frost and Harlequin climb into the ring, shifting their eyes between Hostyle and Austin, who is now on his feet.

Harlequin: Gentlemen, don't take this personally. It's simply business.

Hostyle readies himself for a fight, but HavOc jumps the already hurt Chris Austin. With fists and feet crashing down upon Austin, Havoc tears him down until he can't move. Then, with a nod from Harlequin, Frost grabs Austin and tosses him through the second rope.

Turning back to Hostyle, he now has a mic in his grasp.

Hostyle: You think your little punk antics scare me?

Hostyle stands toe to toe with Havoc, unflinching.

Larsen: Hostyle is insane. I'm sure Havoc won't take to kindly to this...

Morpheus: Insane? Hostyle is a man's man!

Harlequin and Frost look to each other with amusement.

Hostyle: I know I've got a little something that you want... and that is the only reason you're out here.

Havoc lose their grins and rush to grab Hostyle. Ever ready, Hostyle slides out of the ring and makes his way over to the announce table.

Hostyle: If you don't mind, I think I'm going to watch this next match from ringside.

Hostyle unfolds a chair and takes a seat behind the announcement table. Smiling, Hostyle nods to Larsen and Morpheus.

Hostyle: Decided I might just scout my competition. Besides, the C-4 division is about equal rights. Not the massively one sided gang bangs that Havoc seems to enjoy. So... I've found someone to even up the odds...

With a destructive decibel, "Click Click Boom" by Saliva hits the P.A.

Harlequin and Frost whip around as a golden waterfall of pyro rains over the ramp. Chris Kelson, energized and excited, bursts through the wall of pyro and recieves a generous pop from the crowd.

Hostyle: I present to you my protege, the TRUE rising star of Anarchy, CHRIS KELSON.

Larsen: It's Chris Kelson!

Morpheus: He looks way too happy to be here, I don't think that will continue after this commercial break when he meets that man, Hannibal Frost in the ring!

Kelson makes his way over to Hostyle and shakes hands with the C-4 Champion.

Meanwhile, Harlequin and Frost trade glances; seemingly unimpressed with the turn of events.

Larsen: Our next match is another Mt Vesuvius qualifying match. But this match also has some intriuge to it. Hannibal Frost shocked the World at Supremacy when he defeated Hostyle for the C4 Title, only for Hostyle to regain the title. But Hannibal now has the guidance and solidarity of HavOc, which makes him an even more dangerous competitor.

Morpheus: A win by Hannibal Frost will place him right back into the driver's seat for another shot at Hostyle and his C4 Title. But he will not have an easy task tonight.

Larsen: That is correct, Morpheus. Hannibal will have to get through Chris Kelson, a young up and comer who has recently become a protege of sorts to Hostyle. Kelson would like nothing more than to embarras Hannibal and get a shot at Mt Vesuvius. A win by Kelson will be a win for Hostyle and a crushing blow to both Hannibal Frost and HavOc.

As Hostyle leaves the ring after his victory and Kelson continues to strech, Hannibal Frost rushes in and nails Kelson with a running forearm shot from behind, knocking the young man down.


Larsen: And Frost is wasting no time in getting at the protege of Hostyle. He lays him in the corner. Open hand Chop to Kelson! And he follows with a knife edge chop!


Morpheus: Frost is going to make sure that he destroys Hostyle Lite to send Hostyle a message that he is coming back for his title! Frost knows that the C4 Belt should be his!


Larsen: Frost with another hard open hand chop to Kelson, already leaving red marks on the youngster's chest. Irish whip to the corner.


Frost follows Kelson to the corner as Kelson leap frogs over Frost, who crashes chest first into the turnbuckles. Kelson hits Frost with a High Knee Strike to the back of the head, which sends him crashing into the turnbuckle again. He throws an open hand chop to Frost.


Larsen: And Kelson with a brilliant escape and has effectively turned things around here. Another Open Hand chop to Frost. And now he nails him with a forearm shot. Irish Whip to the Corner. What is he going to do? HARD Running Forearm shot by Kelson! And he is going for the Facewash!


Morpheus: Hey, what kind of sportsmanship is that, rubbing your boots on someones face? What a dirty coward!


Larsen: One boot rake, two boot rakes, three boot rakes! And he is running to the opposite ropes!


Before Kelson can start toward Frost, Harlequin trips Kelson right leg, causing him to trip and fall. Kelson gets back up and tries to take a swipe at Harlequin, who moves out of the way and starts to cackle with glee. Kelson turns back around and eats a clothsline by Hannibal Frost, sending him flipping head over heels.


Morpheus: What a strike by Frost! He is not going to let this kid get another opportunity to mount a comeback!


Larsen: Frost lifts up Kelson and drapes him over the ring ropes. Hard Knife edge chop by Frost!


Morpheus: Frost is close to making Kelson's chest bleed! He is that close to busting a blood vessel!


Larsen: And another hard chop on Kelson! Irish Whip to the ropes. Frost with a clothsline attempt, duck under and Irish Whip counter by Kelson! Armdrag takedown by Kelson! And another! Frost gets up again and charges toward Kelson. Inverted Atomic Drop! And he holds on and nails a Northern Lights Suplex! Cover! 1...2..!


Morpheus: Kickout by Frost. Barely a two count! Kelson had to resort to kneeing a man in the groin to gain an advantage!


Larsen: Kelson Irish whips Frost to the ropes! Kelson goes for a jumping Toe Kick! He misses!


Kelson turns around and runs toward Frost. Frost with a nice tilt a whirl backbreaker! Kelson slowly gets up and tries to land a forearm shot to Frost, but Frost dodges and nails him with a Anderson esque Spinebuster! He spins Kelson around and locks him into a camel clutch, placing his knee right into the spine of Kelson.


Morpheus: What a sequence by Frost! And he has Kelson in a bad way with that Camel Clutch! He is going to bend this kid in half!


Larsen: Things are not looking good for Hostyle's young protege, as Frost is wrenching his back. Kelson gets close to the ropes and tries to reach for them!


As Kelson Reaches for the ropes, Harlequin grabs the ropes and pulls it back, the ref not noticing. Hostyle tries to run toward him, but Harlequin gets away and the ref tells Hostyle to get back to his corner. Kelson finally grabs the bottom rope, as Frost keeps the hold on until the ref reaches the four count.


Larsen: Frost is methodically taking Kelson apart piece by piece. Kick to the midsection by Frost! He runs to the ropes! Swinging Neckbreaker by Frost! Cover! 1...2...Kickout by Kelson!


Morpheus: The kid is showing some fire! He wants that spot at Mt. Vesuvius! Too bad that he is going to fail!


Larsen: Frost picks him up and lifts him up in a powerbomb! Kelson flips out of it! Enziguri to the face of Frost, sending him down to the mat. Kelson is back in this!


Kelson measures Frost up as he gets back on his feet. When Frost faces Kelson, Kelson nails Frost with a knee to the gut. Kelson then runs to the ropes and delivers a jumping knee drop to the face. Kelson goes to the apron and signals to the crowd, who roar in support of the young star. Kelson slingshots himself over the ropes and nails an elbow drop on Hannibal Frost! He covers him for the pin.


Larsen: Cover! 1...2...Kickout by Frost!


Morpheus: You are not going to pin a former C4 Champion by only doing that!


Larsen: Kelson picks Frost up and forearms him in the face. He props him in the corner and Irish whips him to the opposite corner. Kelson comes in looking for a running knee!


As Kelson runs to the corner, Frost runs toward him and hits him with a tilt a whirl sideslam. As Kelson slowly gets up from the shock of the move, Frost kicks him in the gut and nails Kelson with a sitout powerbomb. He hooks the legs and covers Kelson for the pin!


Morpheus: Cover! 1...2...Kickout by Kelson! How did he do that?


Larsen: The kid has got heart!


Morpheus: Or he is too stupid to kick out!


Larsen: And Frost had a moment of frustration in his eyes, but he is back to his methodical self. He drags Kelson close to the corner and bodyslams him hard. He goes to the second rope!


Morpheus: He is going to finish it with the Ice Pick!


Frost jumps up when Kelson stands on one knee, only for Kelson to nail Frost with a desperation Superkick. The shot sends Frost to the floor as both men are down.


Larsen: What a counter by Kelson! And he is starting to get up! Frost is sitting up but still on the ground! Kelson slaps his knee and motions to the crowd! He runs to the ropes! Oh! Harlequin trips him again! And Frost gets up slowly! Frost goes to the ropes! And he gets tripped up by Hostyle!


Morpheus: Cheater! The champ is demeaning himself and his title!


Larsen: Harlequin is grabbing the ref, trying to make him turn around, as Hostyle measures Frost up! Springboard Tornado Kick by the Innovative One! He drags Kelson on top of him and gets out of the ring. The ref with the cover! 1...2...KICKOUT By Frost!


Morpheus: The Blackheart of a Champion! Coldness and steel run through those veins!


Larsen: And Kelson is going up top! He is going for the frog splash! OH! Harlequin trips him up and Kelson is crotched on the turnbuckles!


Morpheus: And Frost slowly goes up the turnbuckles. Stalling Superplex! What strength!


Larsen: But Kelson is trying to fight out of it! He flips out! Going for the Toe Kick! Missed and his leg is caught in the corner! German Suplex by Frost! 1...2...Kickout by Kelson!


At this point, Chris Austin comes through the curtain and runs to the ring.


Morpheus: What the hell is he doing here?


Larsen: I assume he is wanting to gain a measure of revenge against Frost and Harlequin for what they did to him earlier! Austin is measuring up! He runs toward Frost! Enziguri...AND HE NAILED KELSON INSTEAD! Kelson is down and out!


Morpheus: And Frost off the second rope! Ice Pick to Austin, and Austin is knocked out of the ring! Frost covers Kelson! Cover! 1...2...3! It is over! HavOc wins!


Buster: Here is the winner of the match and is moving on to Mt Vesuvius! HANNIBAL FROST!
Hannibal Frost (8.13 aps + 1.9 avs = 10.03 total)
Chris Kelson (8.0 aps + 0.5 avs = 8.5 total)


Harlequin and Hannibal Frost are pleased with the result and walk up the ramp in triumph, as Hostyle goes into the ring to check on Chris Kelson.


Larsen: And HavOc slips by with a close victory, thanks in part to Chris Austin, who inadvertantly hit Chris Kelson! Frost is moving on to Mt Vesuvius, adding another member of HavOc into that match! He has also put himself inline for another shot against Hostyle for the C4 Championship belt. As for Chris Austin, I would like to think that he wanted to get at Frost, but that was a clean shot that took Kelson down.


Morpheus: He probably just wanted to send a message to Hostyle! Austin was going to take someone out, no matter if it was Frost or Kelson!


Austin climbs into the ring and goes to check on Kelson. Hostyle shoves him away, infuriated at what has happened. He asks Austin what he was thinking. Austin stands in the middle of the ring with a confused look. He looks toward the ramp toward HavOc and then gazes upon Hostyle and the downed Chris Kelson.



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 switches backstage to a shot of Anarchy GM, Celeste, and Anarchy’s backstage correspondent, Veronica Cherrywood.

Celeste: Hey Veronica, I just realized something just now.

Veronica: What’s that, Celeste?

Celeste: That we both started out in FMW as backstage reporters, at one point, yet I’ve managed moved onto bigger and better things - while you on the other hand…

Veronica shoots a glare at a smugly smiling Celeste, as she folds her arms together.

Veronica: Well, forgive me for not wanting to sleep my way to success!

That comment causes Celeste to return Veronica's glare, as the two young women begin to walk towards each other, seeming in the midst of converging for some potential physicality. T. Ekstreme then suddenly enters, and manages to distract the two before they could even escalate the situation.

T. Ekstreme: If there's going to be a catfight, can I referee?

Celeste: You should be preparing your troops for the Television Championship match with Jack Boice.

T. Ekstreme: My guys are all champions in their own right, and will have no problem adding more gold to Creative Control. They're all on the same page, so this match should be a walk in the park for either of them. No need to bring in David Arquette for training this time! We have it in the bag!

Celeste: The reason I booked such a match was, because I was very proud of the job that you did on Underground, and wanted to reward you.

T. Ekstreme: Thanks for the kind words, Celeste! I did do a terrifically, awesome job on Underground.

Veronica: That's why it still exists, right?

T. Ekstreme: Shut your fucking cockhole, skank!

Celeste: Oh, and by the way, I’m in the process of looking for an assistant - someone to help relieve me of some of my duties. And I think the two of you would make good candidates.

T. Ekstreme: (points at Veronica) Fuck her! You should just give the position to me. I am the one with the experience, after all. And besides, this bitch is an NPC, a fucking No Power Cunt!

Celeste and Veronica both take offense to the remark, as they simultaneously mean-mug T. Ekstreme. Celeste then replies to T. Ekstreme in a stern manner.

Veronica: You know what? FMW seems to have been missing something extremely crucial for a long time now, and you know what that “thing” is?

Celeste/T. Ekstreme: What?

Veronica: GIRL POWER! This industry has been dominated by male characters for too long, and it's time for the women to step up and take control! We’re NOT just eye candy anymore, and it’s time for us to be taken seriously, for a change!

As Celeste finishes her inspiring little speech, Jack Boice suddenly enters into the scene butt-ass nekkid.

Boice: Celeste, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Happy (points down to his massive erection) was thrilled to overhear the news that you’re in search of an assistant GM, so he’d like throw his name in the hat!

Boice then puts a little Uncle Sam hat on Mr. Happy, causing both women to stare at his stiffy, while T. Ekstreme walks away annoyed.

Boice: A vote Mr. Happy is a vote for a better tomorrow!

Celeste: (still staring at Mr. Happy) O-ok, Jack, it’s a three-party race then. And at Circus Maximus, the candidates will have a chance to tell the world why they think they should become the new assistant GM of Anarchy.

The scene fades out to a shot of a hat wearing Mr. Happy.

"March Of The Pigs" by Nine Inch Nails plays over the PA as Sean Jensen makes his way to the ring.

Cherry: The following contest is for one fall and is for a slot in Mt. Vesuvius, making this way tot the ring ... SEAN JENSEN!

Larsen: and a lot in stake for this match right here as one of the remaining Mt. Vesuvius slot are on the line. Jensen vs King Guiomar-

Morpheus: It's Guiomar the Barbaric you fucking dolt.

Larsen: My correction but still Guiomar no matter what you want to call him is a former C-4 champion and a hell of a competitor.

Sean Jensen gets in the ring and paces back and forth waiting for Guiomar to make his appearance.

Morpheus: And speaking of the the Barbaric one...

Cherry: And his opponent... GUIOMAR THE BARBARIC!

Judas Priest – "Decapitate" blast as Guiomar the Barbaric runs full speed down the ramp with his double headed war Axe. Guiomar. Guiomar seems to have branded him self with war paint prior to the match. Guiomar slides under the ropes and goes right after Jensen but the ref gets in the way and convinces Guiomar to hand over the axe.

Larsen: and we are off and Jensen seems to be giving up a little weight to Guiomar as the two lock up and do a test of power. Guiomar kicks Jensen in the gut and Jensen drops the grab to allow Guiomar to grab Jensen and Guiomar is head butting Jensen over and over... listen to the fans.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

Six...

Seven...

Eight...

Nine...

Ten!

Larsen: And Guiomar pulls in Jensen for a short arm clothesline. Man Jensen is bleeding already look at that as Guiomar busted him open with his head alone... by god i remember him as a pure tech wrestler-

Morpheus: Welcome to Anarchy Bitch!

Jensen lays on the ground and whips the blood from his face as Guiomar stands above him beating his arms across his chest roaring like a demon.

Larsen: Jensen kips up and Boom Guiomar drills him right back down with a clothesline, followed by a second and a third... damn every time Jensen gets up Guiomar is dropping him. one more and Guiomar leaps at the second rope and spring boards off into a shoulder tackle. Guiomar is on the assault with heavy stomps before picking up a groggy Jensen and plants him with a beautiful royal suplex. Guiomar rolls over and stays connected and hits a German suplex-

Morpheus: Nazi-plex, the late not so great James McDaygo renamed them and at least have some respect for the dead.

Larsen: fine i'll humer you this once... Nazi plex again... Chris Benoit eat your heart out. Jensen is getting destroyed out here and guimar picks him up for a running awesome bomb onto a turnbuckle and Jensen hts the gorund like a ton of bricks... look the barbaric is calling for the end here as Guiomar drags Jensen's body and places his foot on his chest.

One...

Two...

Three!

Cherry: Your winner and going on to Mt. Vesuvius... GUIOMAR THE BARBARIC!
Guiomar the Barbaric (8.12 aps + 2.6 avs = 10.72 total)
Sean Jensen (0.0 aps + 0.0 avs = 0.0 total)

Guiomar throws his hands in the air and rolls out of the ring to grab his axe. the crowd starts to go apeshit as Guimar slides back in and raises it above his head.

Larsen: No Guiomar this is not needed.

Morpheus: Shut the fuck up, this is Anarchy bring the blood and violence in buckets.

????: Whoa whoa whoa relax Conan.

The Great TO makes his way from behind the curtain and slowly starts to walk down the ramp.

TO: no one wants to see this, you slaughtering this chump like this. This is wrestling not a snuff flick...Unnecessary violence is not the answer here.

TO lets out a great big grin.

TO: But me... I has the answer.

Guiomar grabs the mic from Cherry.

Guiomar: What is the question?

TO: The question you Ultimate warrior want a be is simple... "Why I'm Better Than You?"

Guiomar smacks his head as TO grins again before addressing the fans and getting a close up if his face on a camera

TO: So don't turn that channel, because the return of Why I'm Better Than You is coming up later tonight, and I will tell the entire world why he's better than He-man over here...

The Great TO drops the mic as the broadcast cuts to the back...

Backstage, MASS Caesar is standing next to the monitor with Flavius Mercury. Caesar, who's shoulders are still taped up from being pierced by King Guiomar, is nodding his head in agreement over some of the comments made by The Great TO.

Mercury: What a pompous blow hard!

Caesar: Mercury, The Great TO is a fine competitor and deserves your respect! The man is simply stating fact. I look forward to hearing him further degrade the piece of human refuse that is King Guiomar! Much like The Great TO, MASS Caesar is a much better wrestler, ruler, person, and sex god than Guiomar!

Mercury: Sex God? What about the...nevermind! And didn't you get beat and stabbed by Guio...

Caesar: Don't you dare mention that cheap magicians tricks as a clean victory to me, you rebellous son of a bitch! Any man can gain a victory in battle! The War is far from over! Unlike the Great TO, Mercury, I am not going to simply TELL everyone why I am better! I am going to show everyone why I am better! Because of me, Guiomar unleashed from inside of him the true beast that he is! Because of me...

Boice: Excuse me, gentlemen!

Jack Boice interupts Caesar and Mercury's conversation. Caesar turns around and looks in horror as Boice is standing in front of him naked, with only a Uncle Sam hat covering his penis.

Boice: I finally have them! I have the OFFICAL Vote for Mr Happy Pins and I wanted to pass them out to as many people as I could, especially someone as regarded and connected as you, Caesar! Here, take one!

Boice takes a pin and places it nonchalantly on Caesar's shoulder, causing Caesar to yelp at the shot that Boice gave him and the fact that he stuck the pin to his still wounded shoulder. Caesar looks furious and goes right into Boice's face.

Caesar: YOU DAMNED KLUTZ! You stabbed me in the shoulder with that pin! And put some damned clothes on, you disgusting, uncivilized peasant!

Boice: Oh, right! Well, I would love to, but I seemed to have misplaced mine!

Caesar: Mercury, give him your toga, now!

Mercury: But I just got this thing from...

Caesar: NOW!

Mercury hands over the robe to Boice, who puts it on.

Boice: Thanks, Caesar! I needed this!

Caesar: Away with you, you foul peasant, AWAY!

Boice: Ok! Bye! Vote MR HAPPY!

Boice runs away, the toga only covering the top half of his body. Caesar has Mercury take the pin out, which causes Caesar to yelp in pain again. When Mercury gets it out, he hands it to Caesar, who smacks him over the head, throws the pin to the floor and starts to stomp on the pin in anger.

Larsen: Up next we have the Irish Pub Brawl, as the Fighting Irish get another shot at HavOc. This time it will be Mercutio and SYanide representing HavOc to take on the Celt and PX in their own backyard. Let’s go to the Kehoe Pub now.

Morpheus: Another beatdown by HavOc, I can’t wait!!!

We fade into a packed Kehoe Pub filled with rowdy Irishmen drinking while they watch the Anarchy 7.1 broadcast. As they realize that the next match will take place where they are, they burst into a roar of cheers, which turn to boos as Syanide, wearing a skull mask with street clothes walks into the bar closely trailed by a smiling Mercutio, also wearing street clothes and carrying ‘Louis’. Many men shout insults at the pair, while they just smile and confidently. A ref follows in soon after.

Morpheus: Going into hostile territory now, and HavOc couldn’t be more confident, that’s one reason why I, and many others mark for them.

Syandie and Mercutio watch the entrance as they are expecting the Fighting Irish’ arrival. However, the Fighting Irish are already there, and they ambush HavOc with pool cues to the adoration of the patrons.

Larsen: And we are under way!! Celt and PX gain an early advantage with pool cue shots!

The Celt and PX keep pounding away at the fallen Syanide and Mercutio, until the cues break. While the Irish search for more weapons, HavOc has risen and jump on the backs of the Irish, taking them to the ground.

Larsen: And HavOc is back up, and this one is obviously not gonna be pretty, as HavOc and the Irish go back and forth with punches!

Morpheus: Listen to the hometown crowd egg them on!

Larsen: PX throws Syanide off him, and Syanide is coming!

Morpheus: PX fires a pool ball at the face of Syanide, and down he goes!

Larsen: Celt is coming over to help PX, and Mercutio breaks a stool on Celt’s back!!

Patron #1: Get up Celt!!! Come on!!!!!

Larsen: Mercutio reaching over the bar, he has a frosty mug!! But PX clotheslines him over the bar!!

Morpheus: PX is standing on the bar now, as Celt and Syanide trade blows…..

PX: DOWN WITH HAVOC!!!!!

Patrons: YEAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Larsen: PX with an Elbow drop to Mercutio!!

Morpheus: HavOc has stumbled out of the blocks here……That fucking sucks.

Larsen: Celt backed into the wall, Syanide goes for a headbutt….Celt moves! SYANIDE’S HEAD JUST WENT INTO A WALL!!!! Celt has a dart board now, and he cracks Syanide with it! Blood is coming from that mask!

Morpheus: The Irish home pub advantage must really be important, The Irish, dare I say, look damn good.

Larsen: But PX goes flying back over the bar table courtesy of Mercutio! The action is everywhere!!

Morpheus: And I love it! Sadly, this should be HavOc’s type of match with so much chaos! Syanide is back up and he has a dart! Celt has his hands on Mercutio now….

Larsen: SYANIDE STABS CELT WITH THE DART!!!! It’s in his shoulder deep!

Morpheus: The patrons may have seen enough! One of them just blasted Mercutio with a beer bottle, and now he’s busted open!!

Larsen: PX is up now….and he fires a table at Syanide, who barely dodges it. Here he comes for PX, and PX POWERSLAMS HIM THROUGH A TABLE!! Payback from Lethal Injection right there!!

Morpheus: But Mercutio is back up, and he has Louis…and WHAT A SHOT TO PX!! I think PX is busted open, and it’s about time!

Larsen: But Celt is staggering back up, and a patron has taken the dart out of his shoulder, And Celt charges with a beer mug, and down goes Mercutio!!

Morpheus: Syanide is back! And he has snatched down a Hurley stick from the wall, and OH YOUR GOD WHAT A BLAST TO CELT’S SHOULDER!!

Larsen: But PX retaliates with a kendo stick shot, and Syanide is laid out on a bar table! The patrons are holding him in place!

Morpheus: The Irish fuckers are helping their own now, that’s not fair!!!

Larsen: PX is on a nearby table….Death from Above connects!!! And the bar is going wild!!!

Morpheus: But Mercutio is dragging Celt down the bar Old West style!! More HavOc!!!!

Larsen: PX pulls himself from the wreckage now, and he has an old steel diver’s helmet…..he puts it one and Battering rams Mercutio into a jukebox!!!

Patrons: LET’S GO IRISH!!! (clap clap clap-clap-clap), LET’S GO IRISH!!! (clap clap clap-clap-clap), LET’S GO IRISH!!! (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Larsen: Syanide is up now, and he’s pissed by the way he’s walking!

Morpheus: And he has a biker chain…..RIGHT ACROSS THE BACK OF PX!!! PX has been lacerated!

Larsen: But Celt has recovered and CRACKS Mercutio in the face with a beer mug! (Uppercut guy from Mortal Kombat voice) FROSTY!!!

Morpheus: Why, Larsen?

Larsen: Sounded cool in my head.

Morpheus: Next time you have a thought, keep it to yourself.

Larsen: (under his breath) Your wife said you tried to censor her too.

Morpheus: What?

Larsen: Celt measures Syanide, and a Celtic Cleaver takes him down!

Morpheus: But Mercutio with a crossbody taking out Celt! But PX is on him, Mercutio look out!!

Larsen: PX catches him with Irish Annihilation!

Morpheus: Syanide has PX now, and a powerbomb over the bar!! Syanide dragging PX to the kitchen now!

While PX and Syanide make their way to the kitchen, Celt and Mercutio are stil trading strikes. Celt gets the better of it, and takes a beer from a patron, swigs it, and spits in Mercutio’s face. A blinded Mercutio makes his way to the kitchen arean, as Celt and a few patrons give chase. The cameraman walks in to the kitchen to see PX and Syanide in a potentially deadly situation.

Larsen: Syanide and PX are hovering over that grill, trying to push each other’s faces into it!

Morpheus: With that mask on, Syanide will have the better of this one!

Patrons: Fight it PX!!!

Larsen: PX gets an elbow to the gut, and takes Syanide’s hand, and THROWS IT ON THE GRILL!!!

Morpheus: GOD DAMN!!!

Syanide: AHHHHHHHH!!!

Mercutio: That wasn’t nice.

Larsen: Mercutio has a frying pan, and strikes PX with it! PX is still standing, but a Tornado DDT lays him out!

Morpheus: But Celt has a plate, and right on Mercutio’s head it goes!!

Larsen: HavOc is bleeding even more!

Morpheus: Look at the blisters on Syanide’s hand, but he shakes it off, and destroys Celt with a fire extinguisher! And here’s our first pin!

One!

Two!

Kickout!

Larsen: PX is up now, and a patron has handed him a billy club…..down goes Mercutio!

Morpheus: And he’s continuously striking Mercutio, who can only cover up! The Irish will not go away!

Larsen: PX staggering, and gives out a Primal roar! But Syanide hits with a huge right! But Celt clubs Syanide down, and they seem to be heading back to the bar area!

Morpheus: Here comes Mercutio!

Larsen: He has another stool!

Mercutio strikes PX with the stool, breaking it in many pieces. Mercutio grabs a jagged leg of its remains, and taps Celt on the shoulder. When he turns around….

Morpheus: MERCUTIO STABS CELT IN THE EYE!!!

Larsen: That move may signify that Mercutio is a full-fledged member of HavOc.

Celt writhes on the ground uncontrollably and holds his eye, as a few drunken patrons tend to him. PX meanwhile has whipped Syanide into the jukebox, which just explodes on contact. PX drags him from the wreckage, and goes for a pin.

One

Two…

Th-kickout

Morpheus: That was fucking close!

Larsen: Looks like it’s gonna be PX and Mercutio for a while now!

Morpheus: I doubt it, because both Celt and Syanide are showing life!

Larsen: PX charges Mercutio, who attacks with a kick to the gut. He lifts him up and BRAINBUSTER THROUGH A TABLE!!!

Morpheus: Right when Mercutio gets up, Celt is there with a jagged piece of the table, and he SLICES ACROSS THE BACK OF MERCUTIO!! Mercutio is to a knee, and Celt strikes with a Castlebar Kiss!! Cover!

One

Two

Kickout!

Larsen: Syanide is up now though, and his burned hand is now bloody, but he pounds away at Celt still, and he has him up in a fireman’s carry!

Syanide has Celt up, but Celt grabs a shillelagh from a window frame. He cracks Syanide with it, but Syanide says on his feet long enough to deliver a Death Valley Driver onto the bar!!!

Morpheus: They’re both out after that!! This is fucking awesome!

Larsen: PX is stomping away at Mercutio now, who retaliates with a low blow. PX doubles over, and Mercutio lifts for a powerbomb, but PX reverses it into a Frankensteiner!

Morpheus: PX is back up though, and so is Syanide! PX has a dart board going for Mercutio and ARROWHEAD SHOT through the dart board!! Syanide can’t capitalize!

Celt pulls himself up, and looks at the carnage and the patrons who are cheering their heads off. He goes for Mercutio, and ROCKS him with the Kenpo Dragon Fist. He picks him up, and lifts Mercutio in a crucifix powerbomb hold.

Celt: HAVOC SHALL REIGN NO MORE!!

Patrons: KILL EM!!!

Larsen: IRISH WAKE 08 into the jukebox wreckage!! This may be it!

Morpheus: Get your ass up, Mercutio!!

Larsen: Celt crawls into a cover!!

Patrons and Referee: One!

Two!!

Thre-NO!!

Syanide makes it just in time with a pool cue to Celt’s head. Syanide measures Celt, and gives a home run swing to Celt’s temple, and he connects with the eye that was stabbed earlier by Mercutio! Celt falls like a ton of bricks, holding his eye which begins to bleed even more.

Morpheus: Syanide has knocked Celt the fuck out!

Larsen: But PX has flung Mercutio through the door and it has shattered in millions of pieces!! It’s gonna be PX ans Syanide now!

Morpheus: Syanide has PX, and look at the rapid fire Under-hook headbutts!! Both men are bleeding more and more with each strike!

Larsen: and Syanide throws PX over his head with a suplex into a bar stool!

Morpheus: But Syanide isn’t done, he has PX, and is now ramming his head into the wall over and over again!

Larsen: My God Syanide has just turned it on now!! PX is sluggish against the wall, and Syanide has another dart, and he fires!!!

Syanide throws the dart for PX’s eye but PX does dodge it barely. As Syanide rushes PX to attack, PX strikes with a low dropkick to the knee, and he bulldogs Syanide onto a glass littered floor to the roar of the patrons!

Morpheus: PX has a cover now!

One!

Two!!

T-Kickout!

Larsen: Celt is moving now, and Mercutio has staggered back in, and he has a hurley!

The Celt goes for Syanide, and drops him with a ‘Mind yer Step’ Legsweep DDT. But as he rises, Mercutio swings downward in chopping motion with the hurley stick turned on its side, SHATTERING it across the back of Celt’s head! Celt immediately falls down awkwardly as if he’s been knocked out!

Morpheus: HOLY SHIT MERCUTIO!!!!

Larsen: Celt has been obliterated with that hurley stick!

Morpheus: PX takes down Mercutio with a tabletop dropkick!!

Larsen: But he sees Celt down, and is checking on him.

As PX is bent down to look after Celt…Mercutio crawls toward him with ‘Louis’ in hand. He grips it with both hands, and when he gets within striking distance, he jabs upward, hitting PX in the chest with the bat. As PX goes backward, he goes into Syanide’s grasp who happens to be standing with his back facing a table. He lifts up PX in a Elevated Double Arm Chickenwing, and drops him backwards through the table with…

Morpheus: SYANIDE SERENADE THROUGH ANOTHER TABLE!!

Larsen: PX is out, but Celt is coming to as Mercutio tries to pull himself up! Syanide covers!

One!

Two!!

THREE!!

The ref hits three JUST before Celt can pounce on Syanide with his last bit of energy to make the save. The ref says it is too late, much to the unhappiness and anger of the patrons, who are now piss drunk, and the largely Irish crowd back on site of Anarchy’s broadcast.

Morpheus: HavOc has done it, Larsen!!!

Ref: The winners of the Irish Pub Brawl…………..HAAAAAVVVVVOOOOOCCCCC!!!
Syanide and Mercutio (8.32 aps + 8.05 aps + 1.6 avs = 17.97 total)
Pure Extremist and The Celt (8.2 aps - 0.1 penalty + 8.1 aps + 1.0 avs = 17.2 total)

Patrons: BULLSHIT!!!

Syanide helps Mercutio up, who pushes up with ‘Louis’, as the ref is harassed on his way out by the patrons. A bloody and bruised HavOc raise their hands in victory, as Celt and PX lie in a bloody heap.

Larsen: I can’t believe it! HavOc once again best the Fighting Irish, this time at their own game. The Irish were so close, a hell of an effort by both men!

Morpheus: Close, but no fucking cigar! I MARK FOR HAVOC!! THAT IS ALL!!

Syanide and Mercutio have beers now, and they toast….

HavOc: To The Tag Titles!

And pour the beer on the Fighting Irish, enraging the bar patrons.

Larsen: That was uncalled for by HavoC, and the patrons have armed and are forcing HavOc to leave, for once they don’t have the numbers game!

Morpheus: Dumb drunks are pissed because beer got wasted. They don’t even care about the Fighting Irish.

Larsen: How can you say that, HavOc was embarrassing the Irish post brawl, and the patrons stepped in.

The patrons chase HavOc from the pub. As HavOc gets outside, they begin to laugh, but actually leave peacefully.

Syanide: Anytime the Irish want HavOc to beat them down again, they know where to find us!

The patrons help the Irish to their feet as we fade to backstage at Anarchy from the pub.

[ana] Celeste is seen backstage, fiddling with her Blackberry. She twirls the stylus, and makes an entry. She then looks up, realizing the camera crew has started shooting.

Celeste: You boys should really tell your boss when we’re live. Anyway… The Celt and PX impressed the hell out of me. THEREFORE, At Circus Maximus, they will be given a chance to qualify for Mt. Vesuvius….Against each other.

She pauses, looking down as her PDA rings. She rolls her eyes and silences the call.

Celeste: One last note about Circus Maximu….

She’s cut off as the cameraman takes a hard fall, and an unseen figure grabs her by the wrist. The camera, off center on the tripod, catches a glimpse of Jason Krow as she pulls Celeste in close and pins her up against a wall. Celeste’s eyes go wide as her calls for security are silenced by Krow’s hand around her throat.

Krow: Are you surprised to see me? Are you surprised to learn I’m taking Jaro’s spot tonight? You shouldn’t be. I was hand chosen to represent him. I am his avatar. Jason Roy is a visionary. His eye for talent is so very keen, which is what makes it remarkable a fat whore cow bereft of talent like yourself stayed around so long.

Celeste struggles, and Krow tightens his grip.

Krow: I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready, you disgusting fucking whore. Try that again and I will snap your neck right now. The fact you are GM of Anarchy is a farce.

Celeste: What…what do you want?

Krow: Nothing your pathetic facade of ‘authority’ can provide. I took this job, because I, like my mentor, want to watch this world burn. And it starts with you… and those Neanderthals like Derrick and Michaels. They ravaged the greatest superstar we’ve ever known, rendering him unable to compete again. They think they’ve succeeded. They…have no idea. I will carry on Jason’s work. I will bring his vision to reality. The fulfillment of his destiny shall become my legacy. I will bleed each of his enemies dry, until there is nothing left. And then, after the nonbelievers have fallen… the deserters who left our would be savior to suffer for their cowardice…Smitten, Scorpio, all of them shall suffer as he did when they left him to pay for their Sins. This company will be awash in a river of anguish and bloodshed, AND I SHALL REIGN OVER IT. The quest for vengeance starts right now…with you.

Krow smashes her head through the nearest wall as the camera goes black with the shot of a limp Celeste embedded in the Sheetrock.

Stone: Oh my god, somebody needs to get some help for Celeste![/ana]

[ana]The camera pans to the locker room in the back, where Jay Obber, Karso Key, Jonah Saxon, and Frank Dylan James are all standing, looking slightly confused holding slips of paper in their hands. They are shortly joined by Sean Jensen, who walks in carrying a similar slip of paper.

Jensen: Ok, what's going on here? I'm where the note said, but it doesn't say anything about you idiots.

Obber: Man, I was doing some bad ass training, and a stage hand told me to be here, said something about the higher-ups needing a new star.

James: Nah, they was talkin' 'bout meh, boy.

Key: Ok, seriously, what's going on here?

Saxon: I wish i knew, but I'm leaving.

???: That would be a very, very bad idea.

The group of rookies turns to see Butters step out from behind a door. A sigh of disappointment is let out as they all look at the man that requested their presence.

Butters: I was the one that sent the notes. You'll have to forgive my slight embellishments on the truth, none of you would come here otherwise.

Jensen: Damn right we wouldn't have, Butters. Now make it quick.

Butters: No problem, my friend. I simply gathered you here to warn you about yourselves. Each and everyone of you is standing in the same exact point in this company that I once found myself. Each and everyone of you finds yourself as a relative unknown, being given only the smallest chances to prove yourself. Some of you, like Saxon, have taken a positive step and let your ringwork speak for you. Others, like Jay Obber, have decided that talking as often as possible is the way to success. I'm here to prevent your egos and your mouths from sinking your career, because none of you are strong enough to survive being in the hole I am.

Obber: Man, shut up. I don't talk that much, and I back everything up with tons of kick ass.

Butters: Jay... I mean Chris... listen to me. You've already lost the right to be called Chris here... and that came from your ego and your inability to shut your mouth. Trust me, I used to do the same, very often. All of you should listen to me, I was just like all of you. Tired of waiting for my chance to be big, and wanting to go out there and prove I was better, because deep down I believed I was better than everyone else. Well, I wasn't, and neither are any of you. You need to work hard to get where men like Christian G. Smitten and HavOc are. You need to let your actions speak louder than your words.

Jensen: Butters, now you listen to ME. None of us are going to take advice from a man with more losses than we have all had matches, combined. You may be clambering to grasp onto anything that will save your pathetic career, but none of us need a leech like you attached to them, and none of us need advice on how to be better than you, since we all already are.

Butters steps forward, trying to brush of Jensen's comments.

Butters: Sean, I'm doing this for you. It's not about my career, that's already dead and buried into the ground. I want to save you from becoming me... Trust me, you don't want to be me.

Jensen: You're right... I don't. I don't want to be you, and I don't want to listen to you. Let's leave this loser to himself, guys.

The crowd of rookies nods in agreement as they turn and begin to head towards the door. Suddenly, Butters charges forward and slams Sean Jensen face first into the steel door. He begins laying the boots to the downed rookie, seemingly having lost all control.

Butters: I'm doing this for you...

Butters voice is very low, and sounds almost as if he's holding back emotion as he grabs Jensen's leg and drags it into the doorway. He stomps on Jensen's face again as he takes a few steps back, looking at Sean laying on the ground.

Butters: ...doing this for you...

Butters charges forward, and kicks the door as hard as he can, causing it to slam shut on the ankle of Sean Jensen, who begins to yell and writhe in pain. Butters simply looks down at him as tears fill his eyes, then to the rest of the rookies as he slowly begins to exit the room, as everyone else looks on in shock.

Butters: I'm doing this for all of you...

Butters disappears down the hallway as the other rookies go to get help for Sean Jensen.[/ana]

Pretty Fly for a White Guy by the Offspring blasts through the speakers as the slightly-psychotic Jack Boice, FMW Television Champion, makes his way out to the ring to a huge pop. He begins tossing out “Mister Happy: 2008” buttons all over the place as the fans begin to chant-

Crowd: MISTER HAPPY! MISTER HAPPY!

Larsen: The crowd making it very clear who they support tonight, Morph!

Morpheus: Exactly, and like the puppets they are they choose to support someone who makes them giggle at bathroom humor than support real contenders!

As Boice enters the ring his music is cut off by Jet Black New Year by Thursday. The boos echo throughout the arena as T. Ekstreme walks out onto the entrance ramp followed closely by Steve-E, Slegnadamus, and Westley McGreggor, the members of Creative Control.

Larsen: And here come the terrible trio.

Morpheus: Hey, you call them by their official name. That’s Creative Control and they’re better than you could ever be. You’re not worthy to lick the sweat off their balls.

As Creative Control surround the ring on all four sides, the bell rings. Almost immediately fans begin pelting Ekstreme with “Mister Happy: 2008” buttons. He starts yelling at fans ringside as the three members all slide into the ring. Boice immediately goes to take out Slegnadamus, but is caught from behind by Steve-E and Westley.

Larsen: And clearly, this is a three on one. There’s not going to be any impartial actions from any of the Creative Control members.

Morpheus: Right, but if any of your precious fan favorites do something like it, its being smart, isn’t it? You’re king of the hypocrites if I ever saw one, Larsen!

Larsen: Hey now! Im just going by the rules of the match! This is supposed to be a free for all!

Morpheus: Exactly, and their taking out the biggest threat.

In the ring, Steve-E and Westley irish whip Boice off the ropes and catch him with a double dropkick that sends him off his feet. When he lands, Slegnadamus moonsaults off the second rope and crashes down on Boice’s chest. Steve-E then flips Westley in a moonsault of his own and all three men land Elbow drops to Boice’s chest.

Larsen: Boice is taking a vicious beating at the hands of these three men! LOOK! All of them are pinning him at the same time! One, TWO, NO!

Morpheus: They’re trying to recreate the Bryson/Jaro incident. All three of them could end up crowned as TV Champion. That’s smart business right there.

The trio immediately get up and go right at it again, stomping away on the fallen Boice at the direction of T. Ekstreme. They lift Boice and whip him into the corner. Steve-E whips Slegna into him followed by Westley whipping Steve-E into Boice then, finally, Westley charges himself and jumps up, landing a shining wizard to Boice’s face. Slegna and Steve-E charge and land double dropkicks to Boice’s legs, dropping him face first, and Westley lands a perfect springboard leg drop to the back of Boice’s head.

Larsen: Things are looking grim for the current TV champion.

Morpheus: If he walks out champion I will eat my own hat.

Larsen: The odds are stacked against him. In reality it’s a four on one because you never know what T. Ekstreme will have up his sleeve. The trio go to pin Boice again! ONE, TWO, THR-NO! HOW DID HE KICK OUT! BOICE IS A GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT AND WILL NOT STAY DOWN!

Morpheus: Everyone stays down eventually, Larsen.

The trio grow more visibly frustrated as they lift Boice again. Slegnadamus holds Boice as Westley and Steve-E charge the opposite ropes. As they shoot back Westley begins to throw a clothesline and Steve-E tries chop block Boice’s legs

Larsen: Here comes another triple team, NO! BOICE ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! STEVE-E MISSES! WESTLEY NAILS SLEGNA! STEVE-E IS UP! HE CHARGES BOICE, NO! BIG BOOT TO HIS FACE!

Morpheus: DAMMIT! DON’T FAIL ME NOW!

Larsen: Slegna is back up! He charges! BIG CLOTHESLINE! Ekstreme yells at Westley to do something! Westley springboards off the ropes! BOICE CATCHES HIM! HE TOSSES HIM UP IN A POWERBOMB POSITION! OH MY GOD!

Morpheus: HOLY CRAP!

Larsen: BOICE JUST POWERBOMBED WESTLEY TO THE FLOOR FROM THE RING!

The crowd erupts as Boice stumbles a little. He turns and is immediately attacked by Steve-E and Slegnadamus.

Larsen: Steve-E and Slegna are back to crash the party and- NO! BOICE ERUPTS! A RIGHT TO STEVE-E! A RIGHT TO SLEGNA! BOICE PUNCHES SLEGNA’S GUT! HE KICKS STEVE-E IN THE MIDSECTION! DOUBLE DDT!

The crowd erupts as Boice shoots back up, his fists clenched and a fire in his eyes. Steve-E is trying to pull himself up with the ropes, but Boice is over immediately. He lifts Steve-E, tosses him off the ropes and lands a vicious STO.

Larsen: STO from Boice! He is a fighting champion! He refuses to go down without a fight!

Morpheus: Enjoy it while you can, Larsen! This match is almost over!

Larsen: Exactly, Morph. Boice is going to pull it off!

Morpheus: Lies!

Larsen: Slegna is up but Boice charges him too! He spears Slegna into the corner! He lifts him up to the top rope, BOICE WITH A SPIDER SUPLEX! He repositions himself! 450 SPLASH! BOICE IS ON FIRE!

Morpheus: NO, DAMMIT, NO!

As Boice climbs the turnbuckles to chants of Mister Happy from the crowd. As two of the members of Creative Control lie in the ring, Westley begins to stir.

Larsen: Look, Westley is beginning to get up! Boice climbs down and is waiting for him center of the ring!

Morpheus: Don’t go, Westley!

Larsen: Look at Ekstreme!

T. Ekstreme slides into the ring and stares down the television champion for a few moments. As Westley climbs back into the ring, Ekstreme bounces off the nearest ropes.

Larsen: Ekstreme is in the ring! He looks like he’s setting up for some double team move with Westley!

Morpheus: Don’t forget, Ekstreme isn’t old, nor is he a stranger to the ring. This should be great!

Larsen: Ekstreme off the ropes! He slides under Boice’s Legs! What?

Morpheus: It must be, um… part of the plan?

Larsen: WHAT THE HELL! EKSTREME KICKS WESTLEY IN THE GUT! HE HOOKS HIS HEAD! CROSS ARMED DDT! THE AMERICAN BACKYARD MASSACRE! EKSTREME JUST TURNED ON WESTLEY!

Morpheus: Oh dear God, what the hell just happened!?

Larsen: Ekstreme just killed Westley, that’s what happened! Ekstreme rolls out of the ring, Steve-E and Slegnadamus following him! He grabs all three belts!

Morpheus: I don’t understand! My dreams are crushed!

Boice stares at Ekstreme for a moment. Ekstreme leads Steve-E and Slegnadamus up the ramp. He is livid as the fans stick him with Mister Happy: 2008 stickers. He looks back at the ring and yells, his face turning red.

Morpheus: I don’t get it, Larsen!

Larsen: Nobody does, but this match continues! Boice charges off the ropes, TEMPER TANTRUM! Boice hits his lionsault with both knees in the chest of the fallen McGreggor! Boice with the pin! ONE, TWO, THREE! THIS MATCH IS OVER!

Cherry: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner and STILL FMW Television Champion! JAAAAAAAAAAAACK BOOOOOOOOOICE!
Jack Boice (7.89 aps + 1.5 avs = 9.39 total)
Steve-E Taylor (7.82 aps + 0.5 avs = 8.32 total)
Slegnadamus (7.7 aps + 0.5 avs = 8.2 total)
Westley McGreggor (6.66 aps + 0.1 avs = 6.76 total

The crowd erupts as Boice grabs his belt and jumps into the crowd, celebrating his victory with them. He places Mister Happy: 2008 pins on Westley as he exits the ring and we cut to the back.

[ana]The camera fades backstage as Veronica Cherrywood stands in front of the large Anarchy logo backstage. She smiles as she brings the microphone to her face.

Cherrywood: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m backstage here with former Full Metal Champion Eric Scorpio! Now Eric-
Scorpio quickly cuts her off, grabbing the mic from her hand.

Scorpio: You all wanted it. Everyone sat around crying and hugging each other, praying for the end of the original sin and singing their koombyahs. Well, congratulations, you all got what you wanted… and I hope you see what you all have done. The state Anarchy is in is disgusting. People running around nude backstage? Penis jokes? Bears, Clowns, togas, its like a damn circus and it makes me sick.

I sincerely hope you all are satisfied with the state that YOU put FMW in, but I will let the purists know that tonight… not all hope is lost. I am about to go out to that ring and leave it covered in crimson. You see, I am going out tonight to prove to everyone that Anarchy isn’t the newest traveling circus, but the most VIOLENT show on television. You may think that I might be going out there to have some brief short match, but I will correct you right now. I will tell the world, like I told my brother, that I will not pull shots for anyone, and getting into Mount Vesuvius means eveything to me right now and if I must go through my own flesh and blood then so be it.
There will be a new chapter written in FMW and it begins tonight.

Scorpio glares at the camera before dropping the microphone and walking off screen. The camera focuses on a concerned Veronica Cherrywood as the shot cuts to the ring.[/ana]

Linkin Park’s “No More Sorrow” blares throughout the arena, as the light dims and the arena is filled with alternating blue and white lights. Under heavy boos, Eric Scorpio steps onto the stage and smiles arrogantly for the crowd. He slowly makes his way towards the ring, looking down on the fans and ignoring the jeers of the fans at ringside.

Larsen: What a match we have here. The two members Dark Brotherhood face each other with a spot in the Mount Vesuvius match on the line! A match Scorpio desperately wants to take part in.

Morpheus: Of course he does, once you taste gold you get addicted to the fame and glory that comes with that kind of power. And Mount Vesuvius is the quickest way to regain the FMW Championship Scorpio rightfully deserve!

Cherry: This contest is a Mount Vesuvius Qualifying match scheduled for one fall! Making his way to the ring, from Sudbury, Ontario, Canada…weighing 263 pounds, “The Cleanser of Sinners”, former FMW World Heavyweight Champion….ERIC SCOOOORRRRRRRPIO!!!!

Scorpio steps inside the ring and takes off his trench coat, still with the same superior look on his face. However, his expression changes to a more determined and focused one as “The Devil Made Me Do It” by Wednesday 13 hits the speaker system, announcing the arrival of the other half of the Dark Brotherhood, Crazy Ash Killa. The resolute warrior makes his way towards the ring as a blood-like substance falls from the rafters onto the crowd.

Larsen: Here comes the Titan of Ultraviolence and one has to wonder, with the loyal bond between these two individuals, is CAK going to make things easy for his brother?

Morpheus: I’m more worried about this rain of blood. Damnit Ash, this is a new outfit!

Cherry: His opponent, weighing 425 pounds…“Crazy Ash Killa”….ASH STRRIIIIFFE!!!!

Larsen: The two Brothers are finally in the ring and the intense look on their faces tells the whole story of this match. The referee rings the bell and both men charge immediately at each other, trying to take their opponent down with a clothesline.

Morpheus: Not a smart move by Eric, the difference in power and physique sends him crashing towards the ground. And the gigantic Ash is quick to kick him once he’s down.

Larsen: Eric rolls out of the way and tries to get up, but CAK grabs a hold of him and sets him up for a devastating Chokebomb! And Ash follows with a flurry of mounted punches!

Morpheus: Sadly this isn’t an Ultraviolent Match, so the referee orders CAK to quit using those closed fist attacks. And the referee intervention allows Eric to deliver a thumb to the eye of Ash. And look at Scorpio: he’s smiling, actually happy that his Brother isn’t holding anything back in this match!

Larsen: Ash backs away holding his face, letting his Brother take advantage with a Double Knee Backbreaker! Scorpio quickly follows with the Cloverleaf, trying to take the strength from the legs of the giant.

Morpheus: The problem with locking the submission on a guy with CAK’s height is that you have to pick the perfect place in the ring to lock the hold. Or else, he’ll just reach the ropes quickly like in this case. And Eric, staying true to himself, ignores the ref and applies more pressure to the hold, despite the five count.

Larsen: Scorpio releases the hold at four and continues the offensive with a Figure Four Leg Lock at the exact same spot! CAK reaches the ropes and Eric releases the hold as soon as the ref counts to four.

Morpheus: Eric’s strategy is clear here: he’s not trying to win this one by submission, he just wants to take CAK’s legs completely out of the equation. And he’s going for the cloverleaf again to do so.

Larsen: But CAK sits up and grabs him by the throat!! He’s chocking Eric as he gets to his feet and he must be thinking about the “Falling From Grace”!

Morpheus: This could be it for Eric Scorpio’s hopes of going to Mount Vesuvius!

Larsen: But Scorpio escapes the hold with several kicks to the gut! Eric with the rebound off the ropes… CAK counter with a bone crushing Scoop Powerslam!

Morpheus: And look at the power of Ash, getting to his feet still with Eric horizontal across his body and delivering a giant Fall Away Slam to his partner!!

Larsen: CAK drags his opponent to his feet while keeping him faded with some hard Headbutts. Ash lifts Eric to his shoulder with a Pumphandle only to slam him hard against the mat! CAK shoots the half…

One

Two

Kick-Out!

Morpheus: CAK couldn’t win this time, but at this rate it won’t be long before he upsets Scorpio! Wait, CAK seems to be growing tired of this match! He’s removing the cover from the turnbuckle!

Larsen: Ash has evil intentions here! He raises Eric to his feet and Irish Whips him towards the exposed turnbuckle, but Scorpio manages to stop right in front of the corner! Ash charges at him…

Morpheus: Eric with the drop toe hold, sending CAK head first into the exposed steel turnbuckle!! And here it is; we have first blood in this match!

Larsen: CAK seems to have busted open the area around his left eyebrow and the sight of his own blood isn’t making him happy at all! Scorpio tries to grab a hold of him, but CAK quickly picks him up and slams him spine first against the corner!!

Morpheus: Crazy Ash Killa is a man possessed!! He’s relentlessly nailing vicious lefts and rights to his fallen Brother!

Larsen: CAK finally picks his Brother up and rams him head repeatedly into the exposed turnbuckle! He’s busted up Eric’s lower lip but he isn’t stopping the attack despite the referee’s orders!

Morpheus: Oh shit, what the hell are you thinking ref?!

Larsen: The ref is merely doing his job, getting between CAK and Eric, but the giant definitely isn’t happy about the referee’s call! He’s trading heated words with the official, who doesn’t seem to share his point of view. And CAK pushes the ref into the canvas!

Morpheus: Come on ref, don’t be a pussy! You’re not going to disqualify CAK just for a little push, are you!?

Larsen: Apparently he is! Despite CAK’s protests, the referee is going to award the match to Eric Scorpio!

Just as the referee goes to motion CAK’s fate to the time keeper, Eric Scorpio gets to his feet and heatedly grabs him by the collar.

Morpheus: What the fuck is Eric doing here?! The ref was going to disqualify Ash, why did he stop him?!

Larsen: I think Eric doesn’t what his Brother to be disqualified. I think he wants to win this match by his own merit!

Morpheus: Or maybe he just wants to beat his own Brother to a bloody pulp. Either way, he was stupid!

Larsen: Nonetheless the referee is doing his will and allowing the mayhem to continue!

Morpheus: I am orgasmic at how much more violent this could get! Imagine if this was an Ultraviolent match!!!

Larsen shoots a quizzical look at his partner, as Ash has Eric and flings him into the corner. Ash fires off HARD rights to the body and head of Scorpio. Scorpio tries to cover up, but the power Ash brings behind each blow cause Scorpio to begin to slump down. Seemingly satisfied, Ash yanks up Scorpio and biel throws him across the ring.

Larsen: Ash is all over Scorpio now, and is looking flat out dominant!

Morpheus CAK has Eric in a nerve hold now, and I’ll admit, I did not expect Eric Scorpio to be pushed around like this given that he’s a former FMW World Champ. I know CAK is a god damn monster of a man, but still.

Larsen: Eric starting to fight up to his feet, and fights out of the hold with shots to the stomach. Ash comes back, and Eric just throws his foot into Ash’s face, and Ash goes into the corner! Eric is close behind, and he springboards off the near into a spinning body attack!

Morpheus: Ash is reeling, and Scorpio is just working him now with some Mudhole Stomps to the head and face! CAK’s wound is starting to flow again!

Larsen: Scorpio pulls Ash up now, and Ash fires off an uppercut to get some breathing room. Ash rebounds off the ropes and SCORPIO FLOORS HIM WITH AN STK!!!

Morpheus: How strong is Scorpio?!?!?!? Cover!

One

Two

Kickout by Ash!

CAK muscles Scorpio off of him. As Ash gets to a knee, and aggressive Scorpio charges only to get a Sidewalk slam. CAK pushes Scorpio out of the ring and follows him. He lifts up Scorpio and flapjacks him across the security barrier. CAK takes Scorpio by the head, only for Scorpio to shove him into the ring post. Scorpio runs toward the barrier and springboards off only for CAK to clothesline him down in mid air.

Larsen: Ash taken out Scorpio in mid air with that clothesline!

Morpheus: He knew what Scorpio was going for, like a tag partner should.

Larsen: CAK throws Scorpio back into the ring now, and is coming in quite confidently. But Scorpio is getting up and a low dropkick takes Ash to a knee. A quick springboard, and Eric retaliates with a huge clothesline!! He goes and slaps on the Dragon Clutch!

Morpheus: CAK might be in trouble here….but instead of trying for a rope break, he’s standing up with Scorpio on his back, and he’s shifting Eric onto his shoulder….Snake Eyes!

Larsen: CAK on the rebound, and a big flying shoulderblock floors Scorpio! Cover…

One

Two

Kickout by Scorpio!

Morpheus: Scorpio barely got out of that cover, and CAK is a bit frustrated now.

Larsen: He has Scorpio up now, he looking for the Abyss of Woe!

CAK lifts for his finisher, but Scorpio fights his way down. Scorpio then rams CAK into the exposed turnbuckle shoulder blade first. CAK roars in discomfort, as Scorpio musters up all the strength he has to peel off a picture perfect release Northern Lights Suplex.

Morpheus: Scorpio with that lethal Northern Lights suplex! Cover 1…2…..th kickout!! CAK won’t go down just yet! This shit is awesome, Robbie!

Larsen: Scorpio grabs the legs, looking for Sinful Repentance! CAK is fighting it!

Morpheus: Scorpio can’t lock that move in, CAK’s too strong!

Larsen: Scorpio is inching him over bit by bit, and the crowd is actually getting behind Scorpio!

Crowd: LOCK IT ON!! LOCK IT ON!! LOCK IT ON!!

Morpheus: Eric’s face is pissing blood, but it’s a face of determination He almost has him!

Larsen: Scorpio is bending at any angle imaginable, but he can’t muster the strength!

Morpheus: Wait, Scorpio JUMPS over…..He’s got him turned, if he can step on the hands, this one is done!!!

Scorpio tries to get his feet onto CAK’s hands but they are just out of reach. But as CAK braces himself to make an attempt to break the hold, Scorpio sees this and manages to barely step on one of the hands!

Larsen: Scorpio finally slaps on SINFUL REPENTANCE!! But he doesn’t have both hands restrained!

Morpheus: This bad ass hold? It may not need both hands!

Scorpio wrenches on the hold as Ash tries to free his trapped hand, and keep his free hand away from Scorpio’s other foot. CAK almost reaches the ropes due to his massive frame. Scorpio sees CAK near the ropes, but decides not to pull him away out of risking freedom to the trapped hand. CAK struggles and reaches for the ropes. He starts to touch them, but instead of following through, CAK braces himself uses his free hand to push himself up, and actually break the hold to a pop from the crowd!

Larsen: He broke ‘Sinful Repentance’! Ash has broken Scorpio’s finishing hold! I’ve never seen that before!

Morpheus: Keep in mind that only one hand was held down, and that one was held down barely! Either way, a fucking impressive piece of work there!!

Larsen: What’s amazing about this, is that Eric is for the most part unfazed! He’s pulling a weakened CAK from the ropes, he’s going for it again!

Morpheus: But, CAK is having none of that shit anymore! CAK bats Eric away! Eric comes back, and CAK has him in a Military press!

Larsen: How is he doing that with his injured hand! He shifts Scorpio on his shoulders for a powerbomb…he hoists him up….ABYSS OF WOE!

Morpheus: Damn! I’ve never seen it out of that position!

CAK has Scorpio down, but can’t cover as his recently tortured back begins to act up after that feat of strength. Scorpio has a far away look in his eye, as CAK makes it for a cover!

One!

Two!

Thr-no!

Larsen: Scorpio grabbed the ropes with his hand! And CAK is livid!

Morpheus: He needs to stay on Scorpio while he has him down!

Seemingly hearing Morpheus, CAK cans his argument, and gingerly goes to pick Scorpio off the ground.

Larsen: CAK has him up by the throat!

Morpheus: He’s going for Falling From Grace again! He lifts….

As CAK lifts, Scorpio manages to shift his weight and land behind CAK, he quickly slaps on an inverted facelock, and violently spins!

Larsen: Scorpio counters into SCORPIO’S SCOURGE!! Cover!

One!

Two!

Three!

Morpheus: It’s over! Scorpio is going to Mt. Vesuvius!!

Cherry: Here is your winner by pinfall, and advancing to Mount Vesuvius…..ERIICCC SCOOORRRRPPIO!!!!
Eric Scorpio (8.21 aps + 1.9 avs = 10.11 total)
CAK (7.86 aps + 0.4 avs = 8.26 total)

Scorpio has his hand raised as he looks down to a dazed CAK with a bloody smile on his face. Scorpio mouths the words ‘See you at Mt. Vesuvius, Brother’ and chuckles to himself as he slowly leaves.

Larsen: What a battle he have seen, bloodshed was plentiful, but Scorpio eventually triumphed over CAK, even though he’ll be feeling this one in the morning.

Morpheus: I was pleased with the violence myself. Ash and Scorpio went at it like arch-rivals tonight, wait CAK is getting up, and he has a mike.

CAK: BROTHERRR!!!!!!! GET BACK HERE, WE ARE NOT DONE!

Scorpio hears his and looks back with anger and a smile on his face. He walks back to the ring with purpose and enters the ring. The two men get in each others face as the crowd senses something is about to happen.

Larsen: I don’t know what they are saying, but….AND THEY TRADE BLOWS!!

Morpheus: These two are gonna tear each other limb from limb! And I LOVE IT!

Larsen: Scorpio with a knee to the gut, and he has Ash reeling!

Morpheus: But CAK fires back with a big boot, taking down Scorpio!

Larsen: Scorpio may be on dream street, as CAK now has him in the Military Press!

Morpheus: The Titan of Ultraviolence has bad intentions here!

Larsen: And CAK with the Military Press to the outside of the ring! Eric Scorpio’s body must have broken!

Morpheus: And Crazy Ash Killa is coming this way! Oh shit, move out the way Larsen!

As Larsen and Morpheus withdraw to a safe position, CAK angrily rips the cover of the announce table and removes all the clutter from the desk, before makes his way to his Brother’s fallen body. However, as he tries to lift Eric to a vertical base…

Larsen: Scorpio with a chair to the throat of Ash! He must have taken it from under the ring when CAK was distracted. CAK is shaken up by the blow and Scorpio is quick to connect with vicious chair shots!!

Morpheus: TIMBEEEEEEEEER!!

Larsen: The giant is down and out but that isn’t stopping his partner from delivering more chair shots to his fallen body! Eric Scorpio is a man possessed!

Morpheus: And he noticed the surprise CAK was preparing for him involving our announcer table. Just when I sat down again…

Larsen: Scorpio is dragging his partner’s limp body and placing him on the table. Scorpio’s intentions are clear here as slides into the ring and climbs the turnbuckle.

Morpheus: Hey, why is he hesitating?! Why is he getting out of the corner and walking away?! Is he feeling… remorse?

Larsen: Judging from the grin on his face when he picked up the steel chair I wouldn’t think so! He’s placing the chair under CAK’s head and not content with that, Scorpio grabs another chair from under the ring…

Morpheus: Oh, those hard shots with the metal chair sound even cooler when we’re this close to them!!

Larsen: Scorpio seems to be going for the coup de grâce, placing that bent chair on top of the Crazy Ash Killa and climbing inside the ring again.

Morpheus: Cup of what now?

Larsen: Scorpio is looking down on his partner from the top rope

The crowd boos, clearly disappointed for not seeing the carnage they expected from Scorpio. But, just as it seems Eric is about to exit the ring, he spies CAK starting to stir. Quickly Eric rebounds from the ropes and springboards his way out of the ring!

Larsen: SPRINGBOARD SHOOTING STAR PRESS!!!! OH MY GOD!!

Morpheus: Alright, call the morgue, they’re both fucking dead!

[/i]The crowd stands in silent awe for a few seconds, only to break into a “HOLY SHIT” chant! A replay is shown. As Eric makes his way to CAK, we see CAK attempt to get the chair up to shield himself. The chair ends up impacting Eric in the face, knockin him unconscious. The force of Eric’s attack knocks the back of Ash’s head into the chair also knocking him unconscious.[/i]

Larsen: There’s blood and broken bodies everywhere!! Neither man is moving! The EMTs are rushing towards us! Ladies and gentlemen the carnage at ringside is unbelievable!

Morpheus: And after this grueling match, I can’t tell you how thankful I am for not participating in Mount Vesuvius! Hell, I’m glad I don’t have to step into the ring with either of these guys!

Larsen: Indeed partner! If CAK and Eric are willing to put their own Brother through all this punishment and suffering, can you imagine what they’ll do to their enemies?!

Morpheus: The mere thought almost makes me shit my pants.

The camera closes in on the chaos at ringside, showing both men passed out as the EMTs tend to them and carry them out of the ring while The Great TO walks by with an "eat shit and die" grin on his face.

Larsen: Is it really time for this already?

Morpheus: Are you kidding? This is going to be the highlight of the night!

Entering the ring, The Great T.O. waves to the crowd with a boisterous smile plastered to his face. Pulling the microphone from his waistline, T.O. soaks in the boos.

The Great T.O: Why the boos? You should all be considering yourselves lucky. You're witnessing, first hand, the return of "Why I'm Better Than You!"

The crowd continues to boo; every word from T.O. like a ringing in their ears.

The Great T.O: Hey now, need I remind anyone as to why this segment exists?

Booing. Continuous, unstoppable booing.

The Great T.O: Too bad, I'm tellin' you anyway. It's a loooooong list too.

T.O. pulls a roll of paper from his sleeve and, upon unraveling it, the length of paper has stretched to the floor beside the ring.

The Great T.O: Let's see...

T.O. scans the list.

The Great T.O: I'm the longest reigning Western Heritage Champion in PWA............... ever. Oh, and does the name Paragon ring any bells?

The crowd boos once more, but it only brings another smile to T.O.'s face.

The Great T.O: Oh, here's a gem. I... single handedly... retired Austin's wrestling career. After that, the list goes on and on, but I've got a few certain points to hit.

T.O. tosses the list to the side as the crowd hates his every word.

The Great T.O: You know you don't bother me at all right? In fact, I love the boos! It fuels my fire. On my... lavishly expensive leer jet... I've got three I-Pods filled to the brim with audiences just like you.

T.O. shakes his head and waves for the crowd to shut up.

The Great T.O: But back to King Guiomar... do I even have to go on? I'm so much better than your "king" that it even boggles my mind. He claims he's a barbarian now. I'm sorry, but I'd still vote for Schwarzenegger. I mean, c'mon, his little maid-boy Servante is better than he is. I'd have to say I smell something fishy about those two. Anybody think about pressing charges anytime soon?

T.O laughs as the crowd jeers his ever move but suddenly those laughs turn into cheers as Guiomar hits the ring with speed.

Larsen: Finally we get some relief!

Morpheus: I was enjoying that...

Guiomar doesn't even take the time wave before he spears T.O. to the mat. Punch after punch, Guiomar brutally reconfigures the face of T.O. Guiomar then slides out the ring, goes under the apron, and comes back out with a battle axe.

Larsen: Oh my god, he can't be thinking about doing this!

Sliding back into the ring, Guiomar raises his axe over the body of T.O. and swings down with all his might.

Stopping the axe just shy of T.O.'s face, though, is another blade. Holding it is none other than Mass Caesar!

Both warriors jump back, their weapons held high, but yet another interruption stops the flow of action. Jack Boice, clad in a toga, makes his way down the ramp with a microphone in hand.

Morpheus: I hate to be a buzz kill, but I'm getting really sick of this guy.

Larsen: You don't hate it...

Morpheus: True.

Boice: This is great! I've already got the endorsement of one king, but two? Awesome!

Boice climbs into the ring, the only one wearing a smile.

Boice: Hey, Guiomar... have you met Mr. Happy?

Boice looks down to undo his robe and Caeser takes the chance to blind side Guiomar from behind. Then, raising his sword high, Caesar looks to plunge it into the heart of Guiomar.

Boice sees this, and with a warning yell, tackles Caesar to the ground.

Then, backing away, Boice tries to plead with Caesar.

Boice: Please, just calm down Caesar. You can't kill him just yet... I need his vote! I mean, how can he vote if he's dead?

Caesar: What is wrong with you!?

Boice: I'm just a nigga who loves his penis!

Caesar shakes his head and shoves Boice to the side. Caesar goes for the death blow one last time, but Boice gets another tackle in.

Caesar fights to get him off, but in the melee, Boice's robe gets ripped off.

Morpheus: NAKED!

Caesar pushes Boice away, but Boice continues his pursuit with Mr. Happy just flopping about.

Grabbing his sword, Caesar holds Boice at by.

Caesar: Don't mistake me for a liar. I will rid you of your Mr. Happy.

Boice, ever the risk taker, takes one step forward and recieves a slash from Caesar.

Blade swinging, Boice screams in fright, but the shot is blocked by Guiomar's battle axe. Outnumbered, Caesar quickly exits the ring; all the while pointing at Guiomar, mouthing "The end is near for you".

Boice and Guiomar just look on as T.O. still lays in the ring... oblivious to it all.

As "Voodoo" by Godsmack courses through the P.A. Harlequin finds his way onto the entrance ramp.

Larsen: And the main event is upon us.

Morpheus: Not too mention the rein of terror that HavOc has been inducing lately...

Harlequin, smiling sadistically, makes his way down the entrance ramp and towards the ring.

Cherry: This match is scheduled for one fall... and it is for the Ultra-Violent Championship! Making his way to the ring, the challenger; at 6'2 and weighing in at 200 lbs... Haaarlequuuiiinnnn!

Harlequin enters the ring and looks out at the crowd. His movements become jittery; filled with anticipation.

Suddenly, the music cuts out and "Scream" by Dale Oliver hits the P.A. Smoke billows up in front of the curtains and then we see Jason Krow bursting through it.

Cherry: And now, making his way to the ring... representing Jaro as the Ultra-Violent Champion; he stands at 6'4 and 244 lbs... Jasooon KRROOOWWW.

Jason, The UV title in hand, makes his way down the ramp amidst a chorus of boos. Entering the ring, Jason climbs a turnbuckle and lifts the title over his head.

Morpheus: Flaunt it like you got it, sister!

Larsen: I don't see any part of this match turning out well. Krow, a representative of the devil himself, and Harlequin... the most sadistic son of bitch to lay foot in an FMW ring.

Krow passes the title off to the ref as his music fades out. Harlequin and Krow begin to stare each other down with the crowd chanting behind them.

"U-V!" "U-V!" "U-V!"

Larsen: There's the bell and a lock up to the start the match! It's already a battle with each one fighting to get the upper hand.

Morpheus: Harlequin won't stand a chance at the power game. Krow has a massive advantage here.

Larsen: But Harlequin manages to take the big man down! What's he got in his hand?

Morpheus: It's a damn pocket taser!

Harlequin laughs as blue sparks light up the business end of the taser.

Larsen: Harlequin looks to be going for another shot, but Krow rolls under the bottom rope and to the floor.

Morpheus: From the looks of it, Krow's noticed that he severely underestimated Harlequin in the trickery department.

Harlequin rolls his eyes with a smile and tosses the taser out of the ring.

Larsen: Krow cautiously climbing back into the ring... and now they're locking up again. A struggle...

Morpheus: And Krow goes down again!

Larsen: Harlequin has a second taser!

Rubbing his side, Krow backs up to the ropes as Harlequin tosses the second taser to the outside of the ring.

Larsen: Harlequin is motioning for the lock up. Krow moves in for it, but takes Harlequin's head off instead!

Morpheus: As our great president once said, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice... well you ain't gonna' fool me again!"

Larsen: Is that we he said?

Morpheus: To tell you the truth, I have no clue.

Larsen: Krow has Harlequin by the hair; there's the irish whip... and another beheading courtesy of Jason Krow.

Krow jumps to his feet and yells out at the booing crowd.

Morpheus: Krow better forget about the crowd... Harley didn't stay down for long.

Larsen: Harlequin grabs the unsuspecting Krow... and there's a Russian legsweep!

Harlequin hits the move and immediately rolls to the outside of the ring.

Morpheus: Oh no... I think Harlequin's gettin' the Ultra-Violence started...

Smirking, Harlequin pulls a chair out from under the ring.

Larsen: Just a chair? You'd think it be a bit more rediculous.

Harlequin unfolds the chair and sets it next to the apron, revealing tacks glued to the seat.

Morpheus: And it is!

Harlequin turns from the chair, but doesn't see Krow in time.

Larsen: Krow with a kick to the mid-section. I think he's gonna' DDT Harlequin onto the chair...

Morpheus: But Harlequin raises him up... and hits an atomic drop right onto the tacks! Talk about a vasectomy!

Krow howls in pain, but can't seem to pull himself from the chair.

Larsen: And there's the boot to send Krow toppling over onto the floor.

Morpheus: No body part is off limits with Harlequin. I'd hate to see him in bed...

Larsen: And now Harlequin is bringing out every last thing from under the ring! Barbwire bats, a sheet of tack strips, a ladder, two tables... and a sheet of glass?

Morpheus: I think Harlequin is gettin' ready for arts and crafts...

Harlequin sets up the table and bridges the sheet of tack strips on it and the apron.

Larsen: Uh oh, Harlequin doesn't see it...

Morpheus: Now he does! Krow just split him open with that tacked out chair!

Harlequin hits the floor, blood pouring from the fresh holes in his forehead.

Larsen: Krow's not even done; he's got him up... and there's the spine buster through the tack strips!

Crawling back, Krow bumps into one of the barbwire bats. With a smirk, he grabs it.

Larsen: Krow has that bat... and now he's raising it over his head....

Krow swings the bat down and connects with Harlequin's chest.

Larsen: Jesus Christ! Harlequin's sternum could be crushed!

Krow turns around and begins arguing with the booing ringside crowd.

Morpheus: Wow, Harlequin doesn't seem to be too affected. Wait a minute... Harlequin just pulled a sheet of metal out from under his vest!

Larsen: Krow's turning around... and he gets that sheet of metal jabbed right between his eyes!

Krow loses his grip on the bat as he falls to the floor. Blood begins to drip down from the bridge of his nose.

Larsen: And now Harlequin's heading back into the ring... but not for long!

Morpheus: Suicide slide! Harlequin just pinned Krow's head in between that sheet of metal and the guard rail!

Harlequin throws the metal to the side and rolls Krow into the ring.

Larsen: Harlequin sets the table next to the ring... and now he's throwing the ladder into the ring.

Morpheus: Harley better watch it; Krow is starting to stir.

Harlequin climbs into the ring, but is met with a stiff right by Krow.

Larsen: And there's Krow on the offensive, but Harlequin drives one right back. Krow returns. Harlequin goes for another one...

Morpheus: Krow ducks! Reverse DDT to Harlequin!

Krow quickly goes for the pin.

Larsen: Finally the ref has something to do. One! Two! Harlequin gets the shoulder up!

Krow looks pissed, but garners a smile as he rolls to the outside of the ring.

Larsen: Uh oh, looks like we're gonna' see the sadistic side of Krow. He's setting that sheet of glass up against the apron and the ring steps.

Morpheus: But there's Harley through the second rope! Krow sidesteps the suicide dive!

Harlequin hits the floor hard and faulters as he tries to stand.

Larsen: Krow now has Harlequin by the hair. I think he's going to toss Harlequin face first through the glass.

Morpheus: The wind up... and the pitch; Harlequin flies straight through the sheet of glass! There's blood everywhere!

Krow grabs Harlequin by the shirt collar and rolls him under the bottom rope. Blood trails Harlequin as it oozes from the multiple cuts on his face.

Morpheus: Krow's in the ring too, now, and he's wasting no time. He's got that ladder from earlier set up against the turnbuckle...

Larsen: But Harlequin clubs him down onto it. Harlequin now wrapping Krow's leg under the ladder...

Morpheus: Oh my god, a feat of strength by Harley. He's struggling, but he's got the ladder almost over his head!

Larsen: With Krow on it! Harlequin pulls, the ladder comes free... and all that weight comes down onto Krow's ankle!

Harlequin collapses from exhaustion as Krow desperately grabs for his ankle.

Larsen: I'll be surprised if Krow can even walk after that.

Morpheus: It's a good thing he's got wings.

Larsen: You're an idiot...

Harlequin stumbles to his feet and begins pulling Krow up to a knee.

Larsen: Harlequin going for something, but what a burst of energy by Krow! It's gonna' be the Near Death Experience!

Morpheus: Krow dropped him! That ankle can't handle such a move right now.

Harlequin, after a few kicks to the temple for good measure, drags Krow over the ropes.

Larsen: Uh oh, Harlequin is staring at that table.

Morpheus: And I'm pretty sure he's not trying to flirt with it.

Larsen: Harlequin is lifting Krow to his feet, but Krow grabs him by surprise!

Morpheus: Belly to belly suplex; Harlequin goes straight over the ropes... and crashes through the table!

Krow collapses with his hands around his ankle as Harlequin lays lifeless in the wreckage on the floor.

Larsen: Krow needs to capitalize or he'll lose his chance.

Moments pass and Krow finally gets to his feet.

Morpheus: He might've already lost it; Harlequin is gone!

Krow pounds the ropes in frustration and begins searching all around the ring.

Larsen: Krow is stumped. He had the match won, but Harlequin is just too intelligent for anyone's own good.

Harlequin sneaks into the ring behind Krow; the tacked out chair in hand.

Morpheus: Harlequin like a damn predator stalking his prey. He's going for the shot, but Krow ducks just in time!

Larsen: Krow's got him; it's the Near Death Experience!

Morpheus: Harlequin still has that chair... and a shot to the back stops any forward progress on that move!

Krow and Harlequin fall to mat, but Harlequin gets moving quickly.

Larsen: Harlequin closing that chair around Krow's ankle... and now he's bridging for the pin!

Morpheus: The referee's down on the mat; one, two, three!

Larsen: Oh God! Harlequin is the new Ultraviolent Champion!

Harlequin (8.48 aps + 2.0 avs = 10.48 total)
Jason Krow (8.15 aps + 0.6 avs = 8.75 total)

Morpheus: An extremely impressive bout from Krow, but Harlequin just has too much experience on the kid.

"Voodoo" by Godsmack hits the P.A. one last time as Harlequin rolls away from the pain stricken Krow.

Cherry: Your winner.... and NEEEWWW FMW Ultra Violent Champion... HARRLLLEEEQUUUIIINNN!!

The referee hands Harlequin the belt and goes to raise his hand. Harlequin pulls away, though; a sick and twisted smile on his face.

Looking over at Krow, Harlequin motions for a microphone.

He gets one with speed as his music fades to silence.

Harlequin: Let this victory... usher in the age of Havoc!

Harlequin, newly won title dangling from his left hand, smiles at the crowd.

Harlequin: Oh, and don't forget... every member of Havoc has now qualified for Mount Vesuvius. Prophecy anyone?

Harlequin laughs to himself as he continues to pace the ring.

Harlequin: So, expect Havoc to stand tall at the top of that mountain. Then... it's on to Ultimatum...

And then?

Chaos, ruinous damage... and carnage; all across FMW. You have been warned.