Post by Ampersand on Aug 24, 2021 7:14:13 GMT
Darkness blankets the Colosseum as static emanates from the sound system. The music hits, percussion and vocals creating an insistent momentum matched by the flickering of colored lights across the arena.
On the screen we see a darkened figure hunched over a bathroom sink raising a fist. They smash it into the mirror before them, and as they look up in their fractured reflection we see splinters of the Pit and Bill Woods. As these pieces fall away, they reveal Brendan Logan seated on a divan, seemingly having a conversation with himself as his psychiatrist, Marina Gainor, looks on despairingly. The scene fades to show SKUP9 jogging along the Seattle Waterfront, sweat beaded on his brow, eyes determined, bathed in the neon and sodium lights of the establishments that line it.
Mara Lang, standing in a clinical, spartan white room with low light smiles sinisterly as she runs a hand over the curve of a sensory deprivation tank. The scene dissolves into Jimmy Allen executing a breathtaking shooting star fist drop onto an opponent in the ring, the image bursting into black as he connects. The complete darkness is suddenly disturbed as pairs of tiny eyes open. Overhead lights sputter on to show Silvio Leon and the Lab Rat King, the former perched on a railing of a wooden walkway grinning, the latter crouched low with malevolent intent in his posture, a small cadre of rats assembled around them.
The scene cuts to a midnight garden illuminated beneath a starlit sky by eerily glowing viewing globes as the figures of the Insensate and Roy Valentine move like predatory phantoms among the roses. The scene lightens to show Kyle Beckett and Davie O’Toole sitting side by side sipping from take-out coffee cups and chatting. As the camera zooms out, it shows the pair are, instead of sitting on a bench, seated on the edge of the pergola in Pioneer Square. Standing outside of the Central Saloon, Arthur Drake takes one last drag of a cigarette before flicking it away, striding toward the camera breathing smoke like a dragon contained within a human frame.
Sweeping across the Colosseum, the camera catches sight of a few signs held up among the Ascended Army.
The view swings back around to the announcer’s table where Del Ramos, Artemis Direction, and Hiro Suzuki are seated.
Artemis Direction: Welcome to Collision, Ascended Army! Joining me this evening on commentary are Hiro Suzuki…
Hiro gives a wave with a grin.
Artemis Direction: And Del Ramos!
Del Ramos: Think we’ll get another show like the other week’s? I got some high hopes considering the card.
Hiro shakes his head, face pale.
Hiro Suzuki: I know that kind of violence might be your thing, Del, but I was on the verge of going to a local seminar on vomit control.
Artemis Direction: Really? What kept you from going?
Hiro Suzuki: Well, unfortunately something came up!
Del Ramos: I wonder if it’s too late to switch you out for Fruckster in our first match. That ‘Pit’ guy looks fuckin’ gnarly and I bet he’d love to give you his honest thoughts on your stand-up routine.
Artemis Direction: I must say his mask is really quite something! Full points on presentation.
Hiro Suzuki: Our card has undergone a slight change and our second match of the evening will now be SKUP9 versus Brendan Logan!
Del Ramos: Must feel pretty conflicted on that one. You have your man of beardly aspirations up against the man who is to pro-wrestling what you are to comedy.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey! Brendan’s got...I’m sure he’s got a lot to give! He’s just...gotta get a handle on that crying in the ring thing…
Del Ramos: Like you gotta get a handle on not telling jokes that make people want to swallow a spool of barbed wire, shit out the other end and floss themselves to death?
Artemis Direction: It sounds like our strapping young lad from Colorado is keen on making up for his loss last Collision. Speaking of strapping young lads…
Hiro Suzuki: Jimmy Allen up against Mara Lang! I’m surprised she’s even able to walk considering her last encounter with the Lab Rat King.
Del laughs lowly, eyes glittering.
Del Ramos: She knows what she’s about - pain. Causing it and absorbing it. I can’t wait to see what she has in store for Allen. If he’s smart, he’ll take advantage of her injuries from our last show. That guy’s got experience under his belt and I’m sure he’s gonna use every bit of it to bring the brutality.
Artemis Direction: Speaking of, our next match will be Ascended’s first tag team match and features one of our very best purveyors of pain, the Lab Rat King. He and my darling child Silvio make up Hellbent, and they’ll be facing off against the Insensate and Roy Valentine.
Hiro Suzuki: I’m sure Silvio’s wanting to get a little payback after being attacked.
Del Ramos: I’ve wanted to see what happens when that guy gets pissed. The nice ones always go fucking ballistic when they’re pushed hard enough. Valentine and Lang feel like they’re different pages out of the same story, so I’m betting he and the Insensate will find a way to make this partnership work.
Artemis Direction: Which leads us to our final match of the night - Arthur Drake and Kyle Beckett! They both have such a fire in them!
Artemis fans herself.
Artemis Direction: It’s going to be positively explosive to see those two in the ring!
Hiro Suzuki: Say, did you hear about the explosion at Beecher’s the other day?
Artemis Direction: The cheese maker's? No, dear heart, I hadn’t!
Hiro Suzuki: Da bries was everywhere!
Del Ramos: You’re so fucking lucky I couldn’t get the scorpions through the IV and into your veins, Suzuki.
Artemis Direction: Oh, by the by, Ascended Army, our dear ring announcer, Kevin Kim, has made a full recovery after that vicious and unwarranted attack from Frater Perdurabo.
Del Ramos: Heh. You know what I’d like to see? Our next guy in the ring with Perdurabo in an Underworld rules match. That would be fucking ferocious.
Hiro Suzuki: Well, our first PPV is coming up. I’m sure Marcus is keeping an eye out for people he wants to try for the belts.
Artemis Direction: We have people with proven track records like Jimmy Allen, Lab Rat King, and Zephyr Quinn as well as up-and-comers who have shown some real spark like David O’Toole, Kyle Beckett, and Roy Valentine.
Hiro Suzuki: Guess we’re going to see what happens over these next few matches. Speaking of, looks like we’re about to get things underway!
Kevin Kim: The following match is a standard rules singles match set for one fall! Already in the ring with me is Buck Fruckster. And his opponent!
The lights go out in the arena as "Sail" by Jack Trammell begins playing over the PA system. A single strobe light shines down as Bill Woods is raised from a platform below the entrance stage to the entrance ramp. Bill stands at the top of the entrance ramp in his wrestling gear, his head lowered, a large towel covering his face. Bill's left hand fidgets and twitches nervously, and in his right hand he's holding a nightmarish mask. He appears to be talking to himself, and several times his left hand flashes upward and he hits himself in the face, nearly knocking the towel off each time.
Kevin Kim: From Houston, Texas, weighing in at 267 lbs, he is Bill Woods, THE PIT!
As "Sail" reaches the forty-second mark and the bass drops, Bill dramatically flings the towel off of his head and puts on his mask, screaming at the top of his lungs to herald the arrival of "The Pit". Bill runs to the ring maniacally, his movements becoming jerky and unpredictable before clambering inside to meet his opponent.
Artemis Direction: Well, he certainly knows how to make an entrance.
Del grins fiercely.
Del Ramos: Here we fuckin’ go.
Buck Fruckster tries starting the match with a friendly, hearty handshake. "The Pit" responds by nearly decapitating his opponent with a Clothesline! This act causes a chorus of boos to echo throughout the arena, but the strange man in the nightmare mask just laughs--and then the massacre begins.
Hiro Suzuki: The Pit setting the pace right out of the gate with that clothesline! You know, I once bet my friend all my laundry I could make him cry. You could say there was a lot on the line!
Del Ramos: If he had to listen to a stand-up set from you with laundry-based humor I’m pretty sure you’d be lucky if he didn’t shove you into an industrial strength dryer and rotation roast you like a 7-11 hotdog.
Hiro Suzuki: C’mon, Del! Laundry jokes are great! They just get a lot of bad press!
Using his impressive physique, Bill Woods tosses Buck Fruckster around the ring like a rag doll-- every time Bill slams his opponent to the mat, the entire ring shakes. Fruckster's attempts to regroup are brief and quickly overwhelmed. The chorus of boos eventually turns into shouts of alarm.
And Woods is... still laughing.
Artemis Direction: Oh, dear…
Del, meanwhile, is laughing right along with Woods.
Del Ramos: See?! This guy knows how to party!
Hiro Suzuki: Seems like he’s looking to end it!
Finally, mercifully, "The Pit" seemed to have had its fill. He hits Buck with one final maneuver, his "Embrace the Darkness" finisher, and the sound of Buck's skull and neck being spiked into the canvas is sickening.
Del cackles madly
Del Ramos: Oh, he’s not gettin’ up from that one! Helluva Steiner Screwdriver! Snapped that guy like a fuckin’ twig!
Artemis Direction: Are the EMTs on hand?! I think he might have broken Fruckster’s neck!
The thing known as "The Pit" then points at referee Jill Kincaid, who is gaping at the scene, and shouts for a count.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR...
The referee is forced to count Buck out!
NINE...
TEN!
After counting to ten, Jill immediately calls for the bell as medical personnel rush to the ring. As "Sail" by Jack Trammel began playing out across the PA system, the Ascended Wrestling fans shower Bill Woods in a sea of boos.
Kevin Kim: Your winner by count-out, Bill Woods, THE PIT!
Hiro looks a little queasy, shaking his head.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like we have another monster joining our ranks
He's still laughing. Bill Woods simply watches, laughing, squatting in a corner of the ring, as Buck is loaded onto a stretcher. "The Pit" waves goodbye to his first opponent as Buck is being stretchered up the entrance ramp. He then faces the crowd, hold his hands up, and roars at them.
The camera crew is forced to pan away to the commentary booth.
Del looks elated, Artemis disdainful, and Hiro unsettled.
Artemis Direction: Well! I think it’s safe to say that our Underworld title is going to catch more than a few peoples’ interests.
Del Ramos: Good. Y’know, hardcore wrestlers get a lot of shit from people. Told we’re not legit. Told that using weapons makes it a brawl, not a wrestling match. Told we take things too far. It’s bullshit, plain and simple. When you’re at war, you’re looking for absolute victory. That doesn’t mean letting your fucking opponent get up after you’re done with them. If they still have fight in ‘em, you still have work to do. And if that means suplexing them onto thumbtacks, cracking a bat over their head, or cocooning the motherfucker in barbed wire then you do that. We know what we’re getting ourselves into, and it’s not garbage wrestling. It’s the truest distillation of what it means to be a fucking warrior. You walk into battle and you don’t stop until you’re the only one left who can still walk out. When we play, it’s for keeps.
Hiro Suzuki: As it happens, just last night I spilled a box of thumbtacks. Couldn’t help but dance to the rhythm of them as they hit the floor!
Del Ramos: Don’t fucking--
Artemis Direction: Oh, really?
Del Ramos: I swear to Satan and all of his unholy works--
Hiro Suzuki: That’s right; I got down to brass tacks!
Del Ramos: AAAAAAAA--
Kevin Kim: Our next match is a standard singles rules match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!
The arena's lights snuff out as a distant voice proclaims:
Kevin Kim: Hailing from Grand Junction, Colorado weighing in at 369lbs, he is The Eliminator, SKUP9!
Bass and drums reverberate through the speakers, filling the arena. A spotlight kicks in on stage and reveals the hulking silhouette of a man standing before the entrance. The lights flare up and The Eliminator's hands fly into the air. He treads down to the ring with thundering steps, casting a hard gaze across the crowd. Most of the audience shy from his stare. At the ringside, one step takes SKUP9 to the apron, and another takes him over and inside, where he stretches in his corner with eyes locked on the entrance.
Del Ramos: After last week, I bet beardo here’s looking to make a statement that he isn’t one to be messed with. Seemed pretty insulted that he’s gotta fight Logan, though.
Hiro Suzuki: I just know that Brendan’s going to show us good things! He needs time, that’s all! And...practice! And hey! A little luck couldn’t hurt!
Del Ramos: I thought you had a crush on SKUP9’s glorious facial hair.
Hiro Suzuki: This match has me so torn!
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
Artemis Direction: Ohhh dear…
Kevin Kim: From Hoboken, New Jersey, weighing in at 172 lbs, he is, ‘The Good Loser,’ BRENDAN LOGAN!
'A Dangerous Man,' by Foxxy Shazam comes on over the sound system. The camera stays focused on the stage for a good long while. Brendan's nowhere to be seen and the music eventually cuts. The cameras search the arena and finally catch a shot of Brendan still getting his tights on with a burger in his mouth while he tries his best to run down the stairs through the crowd. His best isn't enough and he ends up tumbling down the stairs, clumsily slamming into the barricade, then standing with his tights finally all the way up. Brendan throws his arms up with a smile, then hops over the barricade and slides into the ring while his psychiatrist - Dr. Martina Gainor - heads down the ramp with her face buried in the palm of her hand and comes to a stop at Brendan's corner. The twosome have a quick conversation before Brendan prepares for action by curling up in his corner and taking a nice nap.
Del is chuckling to themself, rubbing their hands together.
Del Ramos: Oh this is gonna be a slaughter.
Before Martina can warn her client, SKUP9 has seized the young man by his hair and dragged him roughly to his feet. Startled, Brendan lets out a strangled yelp, hands flying to the one with a grip on his hair.
Hiro Suzuki: Did you know that Pavlov had gorgeous hair?
Del Ramos: All I want is to see a man dismembered on live television and you are ruining it, Suzuki.
Hiro Suzuki: He knew how to condition it well!
As he twists free, Brendan attempts a forearm smash, only to wind up tripping over his own feet and face-planting on the canvas. SKUP9 spares a glance at referee Godric Smith who signals for him to keep going. Lying in a whimpering heap on the mat, Logan flails in alarm as SKUP9 bends at the waist, picking him up and slamming him down to the mat again in a brutal deadlift powerbomb, eliciting, ‘Oooo’s’ of sympathy from the audience! Brendan flops like a fish out of water, SKUP9 shaking his head as he lifts him up and locks him into a bear hug!
Artemis Direction: It doesn’t look good for Brendan!
Hiro Suzuki: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that hold’s not going to be easy to get out of!
SKUP9 scowls as his opponent continues to struggle, legs kicking wildly. As he grips his opponent tighter, Brendan’s head suddenly swivels to one side as if he’s speaking to someone. It then swivels to the other side as if answering the question he just asked.
Del Ramos: ...Is that fool talking to himself?
Hiro Suzuki: Maybe… it’s just his way of… you know, working out strategy! In the ring! During the match! In the middle of a hold!
Nodding authoritatively to himself, Brendan Logan delivers a headbutt, only to fall backwards onto the mat with a wail, holding his own forehead as SKUP9 releases him!
Artemis Direction: Logan looking to turn things around!
Del Ramos: At least he found a use for that melon of his other than growing hair.
Hiro Suzuki: See?!
Logan scrambles back to his feet, the Eliminator looking perturbed, and scuttles away from him to the far side of the ring. Trying to seize the moment while he can, Brendan backs up and takes a running slide at SKUP9, executing a drop toe-hold that sends the big man down!
Del Ramos: Holy shit, this fucker might actually put up a fight.
Hiro Suzuki: That’s it, Brendan! You can do it!
Not seeming to believe his luck, Brendan gets to his feet, beaming, and promptly climbs up the nearest top turnbuckle! As he prepares for a diving crossbody, SKUP9 begins to climb to his feet, looking annoyed. He turns just in time for Logan to come flying off the top turnbuckle--
Hiro Suzuki: HERE IT COMES!
--and right into the Eliminator’s waiting arms.
Hiro Suzuki: ...Ohhhhh no.
Artemis Direction: Logan going for the crossbody but denied by a man who...good heavens, now that I think of it, is more than twice his weight!
Del grins broadly.
Del Ramos: BREAK HIM IN HALF, ELIMINATOR! BATHE IN THE MEAT!
Hardly one to need encouragement to commit acts of violence, SKUP9 lifts a squirming Brendan up into a military press, and promptly drops him for a brutal knee strike!
Artemis Direction: SKUP9 with his signature Expulsion! Oh, my stars and garters, the power of this man!
A dazed Logan is defenseless as the Eliminator winds his arm under his opponent’s armpit and across the chest, letting out a bellow as he locks in his Eradication finisher! Squeaking and thrashing ineffectually, Logan signals his submission!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by submission, The Eliminator, SKUP9!
Artemis Direction: Well, I think it’s safe to say that our bold young giant has shown us he isn’t one to be taken lightly!
Hiro Suzuki: How could he? He’s almost 400 lbs!
Del sighs, rummaging around beneath the commentary desk for a moment before bringing out a black candle, which they set down and light with a zippo, along with what appears to be a book bound in ragged leather, an athame, and a goblet.
Del Ramos: Hey, Hiro, what’s your full, legal name?
Hiro Suzuki: Hiroaki Suzuki. Why?
Del lifts the athame and their free hand, beginning to press the blade to her palm above the goblet.
Del Ramos: No reason.
Artemis Direction: Del, sweetness, you know what Jodie said about working black magic on company time.
Del groans tremendously, pinching out the candle flame with their thumb and forefinger.
Del Ramos: You try to liven up one company picnic and suddenly there’s a whole new chapter in the employee code of conduct.
Artemis Direction: I’m just saying that I have no interest in going through another four weeks of seminars on how Afsah Properties Inc. isn’t paying us to summon the forces of darkness and join them on their Hellish crusade. That kind of thing is for the weekends, dear heart.
Hiro seems distracted, touching his earpiece.
Hiro Suzuki: I’m hearing from Kevin Kim that there may be an altercation occurring in the backstage area--No, I am not going to call you Kev. Can we get a camera back there?
The scene cuts to the backstage of the Colosseum where we see Kyle Beckett walking with purpose, gaze focused, seeming to be psyching himself up for the main event of the evening.
??: Kyle. Hey Kyle!
‘The Sidewinder’ Davie O’Toole yells to try and grab the attention of the ‘Culture Clash’ Kyle Beckett as he wanders the hallways of the Colosseum. The Boy from Aus is too focused, lost in his own thoughts to notice at first. Davie rushes up and taps Kyle on the shoulder.
Kyle Beckett: Oi, Piss off Cu-
The Aussie snaps around, fist raised and ready.
Kyle Beckett: Oh Davie. Soz mate, I didn’t see you there.
David O'Toole: Everything alright?”
Kyle Beckett: Fair dinkum mate, I can’t really stay and chat. I gotta bolt. Got my match against Artie coming up and after all the bull dust coming out of his gob. I’m as mad as a cut snake.
Kyle turns to leave.
David O'Toole: Wait, tad. I just wanted to apol-
??: Well, well. If it isn’t the boy who desperately wants to become a man.
‘The King of Catch’ sidles into the scene, a derisive sneer all too clear on his face. He looks down on Davie and Kyle as an insult to his favoured sport.
David O'Toole: Kyle–
The Sidewinder could read the vibe for what it was, a powder keg about to explode, but Kyle only had eyes for Drake.
Kyle Beckett: No cap Artie. I’m finna beat the ever living shit out of you. Why wait, let’s go the knuckle right bloody now!
David O'Toole: Kyle.
Davie's voice is a warning, teeth grit and staring daggers at Drake.
Arthur Drake: Typical. You call yourself a wrestler but barely know any of the basics and now you’d rather have at it here, devoid of any respect for the art form. Save me the trouble of revealing to the world, the fake you really are, run back home little boy and be a disappointment where you belong. At least they’d be used to it.
Kyle is beyond triggered. With an almost feral yell he charges at the King of Catch. Arthur is expecting it and meets the Aussie’s charge. He drops his shoulder low, barging into Kyle to take the air out of the Aussie, surprising for a costly moment. Next thing the Culture Clash knows, Arthur has him locked into a cravat, wrenching the neck and dragging the inexperienced young man down to the floor. His voice comes out in a hiss.
Arthur Drake: Just give up boy.
Kyle struggles. The more he fights, the tighter Arthur applies his vice-like grip. He could end up doing some serious harm.
Recovering from his own shock and surprise, Davie rushes in to break up the clinch. Arthur holds on like a bulldog though eventually Davie pries him off and knocks him back a step. Kyle seethes while Davie holds him back.
David O'Toole: Cool it, Kyle. This doesn't do you any good.
Kyle Beckett: Let me fuck him up.
David O'Toole: Save it.
Arthur Drake: Yes. At least go down with some dignity. I’ll be waiting.
Smirking, the King of Catch turns and leaves the others behind him. Kyle would have gone in for round two, if not for Davie and the approach of backstage staffers coming to investigate.
David O'Toole: Don’t let him up in your head, tad. You got this.
Kyle Beckett: Fucking A I got this.
Kyle mutters in reply, his gaze not once wavering to where Arthur had once been. Their match was going to get bloody hectic.
The camera cuts back to the commentary table, Del looking elated, Artemis looking intrigued, and Hiro looking apprehensive.
Hiro Suzuki: Drake had some pretty inflammatory things to say about Beckett in his latest promo. I don’t blame him for getting a little hot under the collar.
Del Ramos: Good! Drake’s a powerhouse and Beckett’s a firecracker. I can’t fucking wait to see what they do to each other in the ring. Ascended is going to be Beckett’s savage rite of passage and it’s gonna be exciting seeing what this company and every bit of bloodshed it encourages makes of him.
Artemis Direction: Drake seems determined to show the roster why his style of fighting is superior to any others. Considering his performance on the last Collision, he does make a compelling argument. If Kyle keeps letting people get to him like that, though, it could get him in trouble.
Del Ramos: Drake’s smart. You start your fight in your opponent’s head long before you step into the ring. Before he even throws a punch, he’s got Beckett off his stride.
Hiro Suzuki: We’ll see the resolution to this little spat in our main evening tonight! Until then, we have Mara Lang and Jimmy Allen going at it!
Artemis shakes her head with a sniff.
Artemis Direction: The nerve of that woman to show her face - bruised though it may deservedly be - after what she did on our last show! Bringing King’s family and health into this! Having her lackey attack my dear Silvio when he was only trying to prevent further damage!
Del Ramos: I know, right? How’s she going to top that chaos?
Hiro starts to open his mouth to protest, but Artemis merely lays a hand on his arm and shakes her head.
Hiro Suzuki: Well, this week she’s got Jimmy Allen, and she certainly didn’t ease off the personal attacks.
Del smirks.
Del Ramos: Bringing up his famous dad, Mac, and his equally famous lady friend? Bet that’s a sore spot when you’re trying to strike out on your own.
Artemis Direction: If anyone should be motivated to earn a title here at Ascended, it’s going to be Allen. What better way to make a name for yourself than to forge it in gold? You know, I’m really surprised at myself for not getting more involved in wrestling sooner.
Hiro Suzuki: Oh yeah? Why’s that?
Artemis Direction: Well, sweetness, it’s right up my alley! Outrageous costuming on some of the most incredible bodily specimens available, drama bursting from every seam, pyrotechnics, smoke machines, music, strutting, swaggering, throwing shade, and duking it out over enormously gaudy gold belts? Sweetheart, if anything, I should be asking where the other drag queens are, because this is an absolute feast.
Hiro Suzuki: Huh! I never thought of it like that. Speaking of drag and warriors, did you know Achilles was a drag artist?
Artemis Direction: Was he now?
Hiro Suzuki: Yeah, but he had to stop because the heels were killing him!
Kevin Kim: The following contest is set for one fall! Now entering the ring, weighing in at 185 pounds, from Bellevue, Washington, she is MARA LANG!
The Titan-tron screen comes to life with what looks like a network of nerves branching out in silvery spikes, electrical impulses crackling through them along to the strains of, ‘Twisted Nerve,’ by Bernard Herrmann. Those impulses form the name, ‘Mara Lang,’ in shivering silver letters before they burst into brilliant sparks. The lights on either side of the entrance rotate, flashing white beams in an almost hypnotic pattern as Mara steps through to the top of the ramp. As the sharp whistling sound of Mara’s entrance music cuts through the air, the crowd is quieter than would be expected. There is something unwholesome about the way she strides to the ring, not a motion wasted. The only thing that would suggest any distraction from her destination is the motion of her eyes; casting back and forth among the assembled as if assessing them. The bruises from her match with Lab Rat King, though healing, are still visible as sick yellow splotches across her skin.
Hiro Suzuki: Later tonight we’ll be seeing Mara’s experiment or… protege or… something fighting in Ascended’s first tag match with Roy Valentine. What… what do you think she did to him?
Artemis Direction: Darling, it doesn’t bear dwelling on. Who knows what her sick little mind concocted?
Del Ramos: I just know this kid’s in for it. Lang’s got a mean streak and she’s always looking to deal out a little more pain.
Kevin Kim: And her opponent, weighing in at 246 pounds, all the way from Dallas, Texas, he is “The Catalyst” - JIMMY ALLEN!
“The Catalyst” enters the arena to the slow, melancholy tune of “Pretender” by Seattle’s own Foo Fighters. No pyro or special effects pop as he poses for the audience, arms extended, hands balled into a fist over his head. He looks out over the crowd and smiles as he crosses them into an “X”, the crowd pops as he rushes toward the ring. At the last possible moment, he leaps up and deftly baseball slides under the bottom rope towards the center of the ring. He pops back to his feet and goes to the nearest turnbuckle, where he repeats his pose from the ramp before leaping off into a backward flip back towards the center of the ring.
Mara and Jimmy waste no time and lock up as soon as the bell is struck. Despite her injuries, Mara is in full control of her strength, and proves it as she forces Jimmy back into his corner. Pressing him into the turnbuckle, she begins to pelt her opponent with a series of vicious right-arm elbow strikes to his shoulder and head. Yet her face is calm despite the storm she’s raining down on Jimmy--observing his every wince with a steady curiosity.
Hiro shudders visibly.
Hiro Suzuki: Why does she have to be so creepy?!
Artemis Direction: It’s really just disturbing.
All Jimmy can do to weather the storm is wrench himself back and forth in Mara’s grasp, trying desperately to get a hand free to retaliate, until referee Godric Smith arrives and gives Mara a warning count. At four, she draws away with lowered hands, eyes still following Jimmy’s--but leans forward at the last second to deliver a resounding backhand chop into the Catalyst’s chest!
Del laughs.
Del Ramos: Ooh that’s gotta sting!
While Jimmy pulls himself from the turnbuckle, Mara slides back to center stage, taking deep and measured breaths. The Catalyst shakes himself out and rises to meet her. There’s lightning in his eyes, and as the two wrestlers circle around the ring, he unleashes that bottled energy, flying at Mara! Faster than she can react, Jimmy plants a fist into her chest and a reverse elbow strike into her face. Mara seems more stunned than battered, but her expression changes as Jimmy pulls her face down to meet his rising knee. She reels, bent in half--giving the Catalyst enough time to spring against the far rope, rush back to lock Mara’s head in his arm, and spin her to the canvas in a neckbreaker! Jimmy scrambles to pin!
ONE!
NO! Mara kicks out!
Hiro Suzuki: Allen bounces back and quickly takes control! He may be young, but you can’t deny his experience. It’s serving him well here!
Jimmy flips back to his feet, while Mara rises in a graceful spin that leaves her glaring at her opponent across her shoulder. Her arm is raised, palm flat to Jimmy, as if she’s judging her distance between them. The Catalyst laughs at her laissez-faire stance. He rebounds off the ropes again, rushing toward Lang--who steps away from his kick last-second, retorting with a discus lariat to the back of Jimmy’s head! Mara steps up to Jimmy, now on his knees, and rakes her nails across his back! The Catalyst screams in agony!
Artemis cries out in shock, hands fluttering to her face, Hiro hisses in pain, cringing, and Del lets out a howl of delight.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, Artemis, how do two cats end a fight?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, darling, how?
Hiro Suzuki: They hiss and make up!
A delighted smile fills Mara’s face. Wrenching Jimmy’s arm backwards, she pulls him back to his feet, bent double; seemingly savouring his grunts of pain. Sweat drips from Jimmy’s face. Mara is in complete control as she forces her opponent upright again and intertwines their legs, ready for the russian leg sweep. But the Catalyst whips an elbow into Mara’s face--he clearly has other plans! In Mara’s momentary surprise, Jimmy frees his leg and delivers a mighty calf kick to the back of her knee! Lang stumbles forward in a daze.
Artemis Direction: Thatta boy!
Hiro Suzuki: Allen saved himself from some serious punishment there!
The stands go mad when Jimmy clambers to the top of the nearest turnbuckle. Exhausted as he is, hurting like hell as he is, the Catalyst doesn’t miss the chance to woo a crowd, and crosses his arms above him while looking out at the Ascended Army. Mara isn’t yet on her feet when Jimmy stands tall above the crowd, takes one breath, and takes a stunning backflip off the top ropes--driving his fists down onto her back as he falls! Jimmy rolls Mara up in a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by pinfall, “The Catalyst”, JIMMY ALLEN!
The audience roars as Allen’s hand is lifted in victory!
Artemis Direction: We certainly had a few close calls there!
Del Ramos: I don’t think Lang considers herself the loser here. She’s just in it for the brutality and I can fuckin’ respect that even if she is fuckin’ weird about it.
Hiro looks nervous, tugging at his collar.
Hiro Suzuki: That Insensate guy of hers really makes me uncomfortable. He’s got this penchant for causing pain for its own sake.
Artemis Direction: I just want to know what on Earth that little gremlin has against my dear child. Whatever it was couldn’t have been worth a steel chair to the back of the head!
Del Ramos: It all comes with the territory, Artemis. No matter what you do, no matter who you are, somebody out there in the wrestling world is gonna find a reason to hate you. And sometimes you express your displeasure with steel chairs. This all feels really personal, though. Like, this masked guy knew Leon from before.
Hiro Suzuki: Not just him - Zephyr Quinn and Lab Rat King, too.
Artemis sighs, rubbing her temples.
Artemis Direction: That little idiot, the Insensate, was foolish enough to follow in his mistress’ footsteps. He threatened to make the Rat a new subject for the good doctor, and did his best to evoke some traumatic memories, it would seem.
Del laughs darkly.
Del Ramos: Ohhhohoho yes. That’s sure to get him riled again.
Hiro Suzuki: Yeah, but that’s why Afsah booked LRK with Silvio. Typically, King is completely unhinged in the ring, but for some reason, Leon has a calming effect on him. It lets them work effectively as a tag team.
Artemis Direction: Valentine pointed that out. He’s going to be teaming with the Insensate, and it sounds like their plan for victory is divide and conquer.
Del Ramos: And LRK’s not the only one who’s got reason to be heated. The Insensate has been prodding and taunting Silvio since our very first show. I think pretty boy’s patience has just about run out.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, the following contest is Ascended’s first tag team match and is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!
Bathed in darkness, for a long moment there’s silence in the arena. There’s a crackle of static as the Titan-tron flickers to life along with the first note of, ‘Hellbent,’ by the Mystery Skulls vibrating electric throughout the arena, crescendoing in volume and pitch. An image begins to emerge from the static, becoming clear as the music falls into driving electronic beats - Lab Rat King’s logo with a Ouija board style planchette emblazoned upon it, point down. Black lights illuminate the entrance as smoke rolls out along the ramp.
His enormous silhouette emerges from the smoke first. Cloaked in the dark, the mutant’s frightening musculature is highlighted in smears of reactive paint. The muzzle that guards his mouth is painted with monster teeth in the same fluid. His collar is on--but the chains are in his own hands, wrapped around his fists like steel knuckles.
From behind The Lab Rat King, Silvio emerges, pivoting around on one heel as if he were separating from the mutant’s shadow; a Halloween Daydream come to life. He grins, white teeth luminous in the black light, as he swings his hands up, palms out, in front of his eyes. His hands, wrapped in white tape, have Illuminati-style seeing eyes scribbled on them in black ink. As he drops them hard to his sides, a pair of white pyros burst to life on either side of the entrance, nearly blinding in their brightness. As the house lights begin to rise, Kevin Kim’s voice rises above the music.
Kevin Kim: At a combined weight of 480 pounds, hailing from Seattle, Washington and Portland, Oregon-- “The Oracle” Silvio Leon and The Lab Rat King” -- HELLBENT!
As Silvio Leon takes to revving up the crowd, shooting finger guns and handing out high-fives, King rips the collar from his own neck, leaving it discarded behind him in a pile of steel chain. Silvio uses King’s bulk as a boost to hop onto the apron, followed by the beast of a man crawling in after him, standing to his full height with a terrifying stillness that can only be described as unsettling.
Kevin Kim: And their opponents! Now coming to the ring accompanied by Mara Lang, he is from parts unknown, THE INSENSATE!
The eerie piano opening of “The Experiment” plays as a massive tank is wheeled out onto the entrance ramp. As the lyrics begin, Mara Lang steps out from behind the tank, her face covered by a blank, white mask. The tank hisses as Mara steps in front, the first thing the Insensate sees and the last before his senses are assaulted by the sudden stimulation from the noise of the crowd. With one last look at Mara, The Insensate moves to the ring and climbs in.
Silvio and King both glower at the Insensate from their corner of the ring, the fortune teller’s shoulders tensing. It looks like they’re both having difficulty restraining themselves. The Insensate is smirking cruelly, pacing lazily in his corner, not taking his eyes from the pair across from him.
Kevin Kim: And his partner! Now coming to the ring from Cape Elizabeth, Maine weighing in at 219 pounds, he is ROY VALENTINE!
The Titan-tron comes to life with a kaleidoscopic vision of roses, irises, and peonies, a metal cover of Four Seasons (L'inverno, Winter), by Vivaldi filling the arena as the lights flash in shades of red, pink, white, and blue. A shower of petals sweeps across the entrance, carpeting the ramp in a fragrant layer of roses and jasmine. Roy crosses the threshold of the entrance, carrying a signature "Valentine Velvet" rose next to his heart. He takes a deep breath of the flower, tosses it into the crowd, and enters the ring, blowing a kiss to the audience with each hand.
Silvio and the Insensate begin in the ring, the pair circling one another. Silvio’s body language is purposeful, ready, coiled like a serpent. The Insensate, on the other hand, is loping, almost swaggering, smiling like the cat that got the cream. As Silvio steps in to tie up with him, the Insensate skips back, tagging in Valentine and ducking onto the apron. The Oracle looks annoyed, and his momentary lapse in attention costs him a forearm strike from Valentine.
Del Ramos: Oof. Looks like Leon’s already off his game with the gimp. If he doesn’t keep his mind where the match is at, he’s going to be in trouble.
Valentine is looking at Leon with an almost pitying expression, shaking his head a little as he circles him. Silvio steps up again, locking up with Valentine and trading holds. Valentine pivots with his hips, whipping the Oracle into the ropes. Leon bounces off of them, coming flying back at Valentine only to find himself on the receiving end of a back body drop. He arches off the canvas, crying out in pain.
Artemis Direction: Come on, darling! You can do this!
Hiro Suzuki: This might be over before it gets started if the Oracle can’t focus up.
Valentine stalks toward Leon, but as he gets close, the prone high-flyer snaps back up, hooking his foot around Valentine’s ankle and yanking as hard as he can! Valentine falls over, chest hitting the top rope as Silvio spins back up to his feet. Reaching down, he catches hold of Valentine’s ankles, lifting them and sending the botanical baron spilling out onto the mats outside the ring!
Hiro Suzuki: Here I thought Roy’s favorite season would be Spring, but it looks like it’s Fall!
Del Ramos: I will cut you.
As Valentine begins to climb to his feet, Silvio backs up in the ring, holds up a fist with one pinkie raised in the air yelling, ‘PINKIES UP!’ before charging forward, vaulting over the top rope, and hitting Valentine with a tope con hilo!
Artemis Direction: Aw, look at my boy making it fancy!
The pair start to stir, Silvio getting to his feet first and grabbing Roy by the scruff of his neck, having no regard for preserving the man’s dignity. Hauling him back into the ring, he walks him over to his corner where he tags in his partner.
Del Ramos: And now we let the monster out to play!
Artemis Direction: I’m sure all those ‘dessicated tree’ remarks aren’t going to go unanswered.
Del Ramos: God Valentine has a weird way of shit talking people.
The Lab Rat King surges into the ring like a hunting dog being released, and he’s on top of Roy instantly, reaching to grab him around the torso--still somewhat stunned but not completely out of it, Valentine lashes out almost with a self-preservation instinct, striking the Lab Rat in the eyes! The monster roars in fury, swiping at Roy blindly while he takes a step back to regain his composure. With considerable ring awareness he stays close to the ropes, knowing the mutant man’s reputation for brutal submission holds. He reels back, bouncing off the ropes behind him to gain momentum, rushing King with an uppercut! His fist connects with the leather of King’s muzzle, but the best recovers almost instantly with a snarl, and as Roy’s momentum carries him past the beast sweeps him up into a brutal sidewalk slam!
Artemis Direction: TIMBER, DARLINGS!
Hiro Suzuki: Did you hear about the man who went to Canada to cut down the magic tree?
Artemis Direction: No, dearest, what happened?
Hiro Suzuki: Well, the guy raised his axe and the tree cried out, ‘Wait, wait, I’m a talking tree!’ Do you know what the man said in return?
Artemis Direction: What’s that?
Hiro Suzuki: “Then I guess you’ll dialogue!”
Del Ramos: If you don’t shut your fucking food door you’re going to die a lot.
Roy attempts to roll back toward his corner, starting to feel his bumps and longing for the sweet release of a tag-out. He makes some headway as King is still rubbing at his eyes, and with a grimace of frustration, tags out to The Insensate!
The moment the Insensate’s boots are in the ring, the Lab Rat King rushes him, roaring so close to his face that it makes the much smaller man recoil in reflex. It’s not enough distance, though, as King grabs his masked opponent, hauling him effortlessly into the air in a delayed vertical suplex! The Insensate is forced to hang, blood rushing to his head as the mutant’s voice thunders through the arena.
Lab Rat King: TIME TO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!!
Artemis Direction: Ooh...looks like daddy’s putting that naughty boy into a time out!
SLAM!! The Insensate crashes to the mat on King’s other side, hissing through clenched teeth against the lance of pain through his back. He opens his eyes to see Leon looking down at him, though, and it spurs some kind of rage in him that has him returning to his feet.
Silvio tags back in, eyes alight with the same eagerness that glows in the Insensate’s. As the Oracle steps into the ring, he's almost immediately met with a roundhouse kick which he ducks! As he pops back up, he tries for a super kick only for the Insensate to catch hold of his leg and twist him around in a dragon screw, sending him to the mat! The pair both spring back to their feet, albeit Silvio a bit less spryly, and fall toward each other again. After trading a few holds, Silvio manages a quick hip toss, sending the Insensate to the canvas, and he swiftly folds their legs together, falling to the mat in a figure four leglock! However, as he puts the pressure on, his opponent doesn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact, he just looks at Silvio, shakes his head and laughs.
Del Ramos: Ohhh so this is what Lang was talking about!
Hiro Suzuki: Good God! His pain tolerance is so high it’s like he doesn’t even feel it!
Artemis Direction: They’re not going to win by making him submit!
Silvio seems to realize this the moment Artemis says it, but before he can release the Insensate, he finds himself being turned over, the hold reversing! He grits his teeth and cries out, his opponent still laughing merrily.
Del Ramos: Ohhh this is that good shit…
Hiro Suzuki: This is obscene is what it is!
Jill Kincaid checks in with Silvio to see if he wants to submit. He resolutely shakes his head, setting his teeth and crawling for the nearest rope. With effort, he makes it, and the ref breaks up the submission. The pair get to their feet again, Silvio glaring daggers at the masked man, the Insensate still grinning with mocking gleefulness. His lip curling, the fortune teller lets out a cry and falls forward, delivering forearm strike after forearm strike to the Insensate! Forcing his opponent back into the turnbuckle, he can be seen mouthing the word, ‘WHY?’ all the while, the Insensate just laughs. Frustrated, Silvio shoves the Insensate away, mounts the turnbuckle, and takes him down with his Starry Wisdom Tornado DDT!
The pair of them sprawled on the mat, Silvio goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Kevin Kim: Your winners by pinfall, HELLBENT!
Artemis Direction: And what a spectacular first tag team match this has been! Truly one for the--
In the ring, Kevin Kim is raising Silvio and LRK’s hands in victory. However, just behind them, getting to his feet, the Insensate reaches up and begins to unlace the back of his mask. Sensing movement, Silvio snaps around, ready for an attack, but he freezes as he watches the Insensate loosen the covering around his head. Still tense for an attack, Silvio’s expression dissolves into one of cold unsullied horror as the mask is tossed aside, and the person behind it is revealed. His eyes might be a bit hollow, and he might have a smile to match, but the profusion of curls is unmistakable.
For a moment, the Oracle can’t move; can’t speak. When he finally does, his voice is so small and broken one can only make out the name he mouths.
Silvio Leon: ...Seb?
The man who was the Insensate motions for a mic from Kevin Kim.
Sebastian Hawke: Surprised? I am. I figured you would have forgotten my name at this point. I guess I should be flattered, huh, Mr. Hero?
Silvio doesn’t seem to know what to say, what to do.
Sebastian Hawke: Oh, no witty rejoinder, snide remark, or smart ass comment? C’mon, Sil, don’t disappoint the folks at home.
Silvio shakes his head, taking a step toward him starting to open his mouth to say something when Sebastian steps forward swiftly and delivers a stiff right cross to his jaw. Silvio’s head snaps backward and he staggers a few steps.
Sebastian Hawke: On second thought, save your material. We’ve got plenty to discuss and all the time in the world to do it.
The crowd is a jumbled reaction of jeers and confusion as Sebastian Hawke and Roy Valentine turn and leave the ring.
The scene back at the commentary table is one of shock for Hiro and Artemis, delight for Del.
Del Ramos: What did I tell you? This fight’s just getting started.
Silvio’s footsteps are heavy as he makes his way back to the locker room. A few people backstage glance up and part for him, staring after his back as he passes. Shoulders slumped, he comes to his locker at last and pulls it open.
Unexpectedly, there is an envelope resting on top of Silvio’s bag--unmarked, but deep red in colour, sealed with a featureless circular gold sticker.
The Oracle hesitates, brow furrowed. He glances around briefly before picking the letter up and unsealing it, pulling out the contents. Inside is a single piece of letter paper, folded; the message is typed, not handwritten, and bears no signature or letterhead.
Hey there, kiddo!
This is gonna be your first, last and only warning, ok? I’m getting real tired of you and your stupid friends playing lifeguard for my pet project. I’m gonna take back what belongs to me, whether you like it or not, so this is your chance to get your pretty little ass the hell out of my way. I’m more than happy to go through you to get to him. Hell, maybe I’ll make it a twofer--don’t think I haven’t noticed your little lion-taming act. What’s that about? How are you pulling that off? Sure would like to find out. I’ve definitely got the equipment.
The rat goes back in the cage. You can either step aside, or climb in with him, kiddo. Your choice.
The color drains from Silvio’s face and he swallows visibly.
Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against the locker, closing his eyes, letter held loosely in one hand, the other hanging at his side. For a long, deafeningly quiet moment, he doesn’t move; doesn’t even seem to breathe. Then, all at once as if animated by a sudden bolt of fire from within, he arches backward, letting out a cry from some hollow place where his sense of self and safety once was. Reeling back with a speed and force that seems borderline inhuman, he slams a fist into the locker beside him, the squealing cry of crumpling metal joining his voice as the scene cuts abruptly to black.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army this is your main event of the evening set for one fall! Introducing first!
The house lights dim as harsh, stark pulses of white light strobe from the entrance at the top of the ramp. As the beat of London Calling drops, Arthur Drake marches out onto the stage, wearing a leather jacket adorned with various 70's and 80's Punk band logos.
Kevin Kim: Coming to us from Tower Hamlets, London, England weighing in at 234 lbs, he is ‘The King of Catch,’ ARTHUR DRAKE!
He continues his march down the ramp and to the steel steps, walks up and wipes his feet on the apron, before entering the ring.
Artemis Direction: Earlier this evening we saw Drake and Beckett mixing it up in the back! These boys simply can’t contain themselves.
Del Ramos: I can hardly blame them. They both left everything behind to be here; left entire continents to come chase this violent vision. That’s fucking metal. You don’t do that without the most brutal of dedications to the fight.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
'Stick To Your Guns,' by the Sick Puppies comes on over the sound system and Kyle stands at the top of the entrance ramp, bent slightly forward and arms crossed. He drops the hood of his jacket and throws his arms out wide, letting out an excited roar to the crowd. He looks around to take in the arena before striding down the ramp.
Kevin Kim: From Brisbane, Australia weighing in at 201 pounds, he is the ‘Culture Clash,’ KYLE BECKETT!
Kyle ascends on to the ring apron, looking out to the arena again with a sly grin on his face and climbs to the top of the turnbuckle where he cries out ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!,’ to which the crowd responds, ‘Oi, Oi, Oi!’ before leaping down to the ring and preparing himself for the match.
Hiro Suzuki: You know, I was thinking about it, and kangaroos! They’re an animal from Australia that’s not horrible! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!
Del Ramos: You’re kidding, right?
Hiro Suzuki: What? No! Why would I be? Kangaroos just hop around and they have little pouches where they keep their babies! They’re adorable!
Del Ramos: You’ve never seen one of those things close up, have you?
Del takes out their phone and appears to scroll through a few things before handing it to Hiro.
Hiro Suzuki: IT HAS ABS?! WHY DOES IT HAVE ABS?!
Del Ramos: Yeah that ain’t all.
Hiro Suzuki: WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ITS ARMS?! Oh my GOD those CLAWS!
Del Ramos: Let’s look up kangaroo attacks…
Hiro turns distinctly green and ducks to the side of the commentary table, groping for a waste basket.
The two fighters in the ring begin to circle each other. Kyle is notably more nervy, anger making his motions severe whereas Arthur is the picture of calm, smiling in an almost avuncular manner to the younger man; as if he finds this cute on Kyle’s part. Smirking, Drake gives Kyle a wink, and the younger man’s eyes flash with anger before he tries for a spinning heel kick! Drake catches his leg, and Kyle attempts to transition into an enzuigiri, but Arthur denies him, taking him down to the mat and locking him into a knee bar! Beckett grunts in pain, writhing in the hold.
Del Ramos: The youngster’s coming in hot; letting it get the better of him.
Artemis Direction: Arthur’s smart; keeping Kyle on the mat in his territory. Drake might not think much of it, but Beckett’s style is still plenty dangerous if he gets some momentum going.
Arthur seems perfectly content to keep the pressure on, and at first Kyle just thrashes without much thought into how he’s going to get free. As he centers himself though, he grits his teeth, focuses, and begins to shift the point of leverage, shoving his foot against Drake’s leg and forcing his knee up, giving himself enough time and space to break free. He climbs to his feet, faltering for a moment, and soon Arthur’s vertical as well. Thinking fast, Beckett runs toward one of the turnbuckles, Drake close behind him. As Arthur’s about to grab hold of the back of Kyle’s neck, the younger man hops up on the second rope, does a quick flip over his opponent, who catches himself on the ropes with his hands. Before he can turn, however, Beckett’s delivered a calf kick, sending Drake slamming into the turnbuckle!
Hiro Suzuki: That’s the momentum right there! Drake better nip this in the bud!
Arthur turns around, and the playfulness in his expression from before is gone, replaced by a grim sort of determination as if to say, ‘Okay, kid, you’ve had your fun, but playtime’s over.’ As he stalks toward Beckett, the high flyer seizes hold of the top rope and goes for a springboard crossbody, only to be caught by Drake, who turns it into a German suplex! Kyle seems out of sorts, blinking dazedly, though he comes right back to attention with a wail of pain as Arthur drags him to his feet and punishes him in a brutal abdominal stretch!
Artemis Direction: Ooh, darlings, no amount of crunches can prepare you for that!
Hiro Suzuki: Oof, yeah, I just couldn’t stomach that!
Del Ramos: I swear I’m going to pull your pancreas out through your fucking ear one day.
Hiro Suzuki: How would that work? Could you exspleen it to me?
Artemis Direction: Beckett’s not in good shape.
Hiro Suzuki: I’ll say! Drake really rectum!
Kyle struggles, trying to figure a way out of the hold. Godric Smith checks in to see if he wants to submit, but Beckett emphatically shakes his head no! The Australian lets out a howl of effort as he pushes forward with the arm locked in the hold while he shoves with the other hand against the leg Drake is using to stabilize himself! As he throws his weight, Arthur goes down, face slamming into the mat and allowing Beckett to struggle free. Drake climbs to his feet, dazed, and Beckett is ready for him. Blow by blow, he fights Drake back into one of the turnbuckles, hanging him up on the top rope. He even mounts the second rope, getting a few headshots as a bit of an insurance policy for what he’s going to do next. Then, breathing ragged, he backs himself up into the opposite turnbuckle and goes bolting right toward Drake! As he launches himself upward, catching hold of the top ropes, Arthur grabs his thighs, and it almost looks like he’s going to deny Beckett, when Kyle swings back down and around, taking Drake with him, and slamming him into the canvas head first!
Artemis Direction: Beckett hits the Culture Shock!
Kyle goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, your winner by pinfall, the ‘Culture Clash,’ KYLE BECKETT!
As Beckett’s arm is raised in victory, Drake climbs to his feet, something dangerous burning in his eyes.
Del Ramos: Heh...I don’t think Drake liked being pinned by one of our resident acrobats…
Artemis Direction: They both offer so much with this match. It’s fascinating to see two people who exemplify such wildly different approaches!
Hiro Suzuki: I think it’s safe to say they’re going to Clash again! Get it? Because of Drake’s entrance music and Beckett’s--
Del Ramos: Where the fuck did I put that athame?
Artemis Direction: Join us again in two weeks for our next edition of Collision! Goodnight, Ascended Army!
Credits
‘The Pit’ Bill Woods vs. Buck Fruckster - Oli
Catch Some Culture - Kyle Beckett, Arthur Drake, Davie O’Toole
Jimmy Allen vs. Mara Lang - Aedan
Hellbent vs. Roy Valentine & The Insensate - Ampersand and Zen
Letter from Rose - Zen
Everything Else - Ampersand
Fight
Anywhere
Anytime
Anyplace
Like a moth into a flame
I consecrate the pain
On the screen we see a darkened figure hunched over a bathroom sink raising a fist. They smash it into the mirror before them, and as they look up in their fractured reflection we see splinters of the Pit and Bill Woods. As these pieces fall away, they reveal Brendan Logan seated on a divan, seemingly having a conversation with himself as his psychiatrist, Marina Gainor, looks on despairingly. The scene fades to show SKUP9 jogging along the Seattle Waterfront, sweat beaded on his brow, eyes determined, bathed in the neon and sodium lights of the establishments that line it.
Move
With glory through my veins
A gambler tempting fate
'Til nothing's in my way
I'll put them in their grave
Mara Lang, standing in a clinical, spartan white room with low light smiles sinisterly as she runs a hand over the curve of a sensory deprivation tank. The scene dissolves into Jimmy Allen executing a breathtaking shooting star fist drop onto an opponent in the ring, the image bursting into black as he connects. The complete darkness is suddenly disturbed as pairs of tiny eyes open. Overhead lights sputter on to show Silvio Leon and the Lab Rat King, the former perched on a railing of a wooden walkway grinning, the latter crouched low with malevolent intent in his posture, a small cadre of rats assembled around them.
Let me lace up my boots
'Cause I'mma slay some giants
Giants
I'mma slay some giants
Let me lace up my boots
'Cause I'mma slay some giants
Giants
I'mma slay some giants
Let me lace up my boots
'Cause I'mma slay some giants!
Sweeping across the Colosseum, the camera catches sight of a few signs held up among the Ascended Army.
PUNK’S NOT DEAD!
FALL INTO THE PIT
BE MINE, VALENTINE!
ELIMINATOR NATION!
The view swings back around to the announcer’s table where Del Ramos, Artemis Direction, and Hiro Suzuki are seated.
Artemis Direction: Welcome to Collision, Ascended Army! Joining me this evening on commentary are Hiro Suzuki…
Hiro gives a wave with a grin.
Artemis Direction: And Del Ramos!
Del Ramos: Think we’ll get another show like the other week’s? I got some high hopes considering the card.
Hiro shakes his head, face pale.
Hiro Suzuki: I know that kind of violence might be your thing, Del, but I was on the verge of going to a local seminar on vomit control.
Artemis Direction: Really? What kept you from going?
Hiro Suzuki: Well, unfortunately something came up!
Del Ramos: I wonder if it’s too late to switch you out for Fruckster in our first match. That ‘Pit’ guy looks fuckin’ gnarly and I bet he’d love to give you his honest thoughts on your stand-up routine.
Artemis Direction: I must say his mask is really quite something! Full points on presentation.
Hiro Suzuki: Our card has undergone a slight change and our second match of the evening will now be SKUP9 versus Brendan Logan!
Del Ramos: Must feel pretty conflicted on that one. You have your man of beardly aspirations up against the man who is to pro-wrestling what you are to comedy.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey! Brendan’s got...I’m sure he’s got a lot to give! He’s just...gotta get a handle on that crying in the ring thing…
Del Ramos: Like you gotta get a handle on not telling jokes that make people want to swallow a spool of barbed wire, shit out the other end and floss themselves to death?
Artemis Direction: It sounds like our strapping young lad from Colorado is keen on making up for his loss last Collision. Speaking of strapping young lads…
Hiro Suzuki: Jimmy Allen up against Mara Lang! I’m surprised she’s even able to walk considering her last encounter with the Lab Rat King.
Del laughs lowly, eyes glittering.
Del Ramos: She knows what she’s about - pain. Causing it and absorbing it. I can’t wait to see what she has in store for Allen. If he’s smart, he’ll take advantage of her injuries from our last show. That guy’s got experience under his belt and I’m sure he’s gonna use every bit of it to bring the brutality.
Artemis Direction: Speaking of, our next match will be Ascended’s first tag team match and features one of our very best purveyors of pain, the Lab Rat King. He and my darling child Silvio make up Hellbent, and they’ll be facing off against the Insensate and Roy Valentine.
Hiro Suzuki: I’m sure Silvio’s wanting to get a little payback after being attacked.
Del Ramos: I’ve wanted to see what happens when that guy gets pissed. The nice ones always go fucking ballistic when they’re pushed hard enough. Valentine and Lang feel like they’re different pages out of the same story, so I’m betting he and the Insensate will find a way to make this partnership work.
Artemis Direction: Which leads us to our final match of the night - Arthur Drake and Kyle Beckett! They both have such a fire in them!
Artemis fans herself.
Artemis Direction: It’s going to be positively explosive to see those two in the ring!
Hiro Suzuki: Say, did you hear about the explosion at Beecher’s the other day?
Artemis Direction: The cheese maker's? No, dear heart, I hadn’t!
Hiro Suzuki: Da bries was everywhere!
Del Ramos: You’re so fucking lucky I couldn’t get the scorpions through the IV and into your veins, Suzuki.
Artemis Direction: Oh, by the by, Ascended Army, our dear ring announcer, Kevin Kim, has made a full recovery after that vicious and unwarranted attack from Frater Perdurabo.
Del Ramos: Heh. You know what I’d like to see? Our next guy in the ring with Perdurabo in an Underworld rules match. That would be fucking ferocious.
Hiro Suzuki: Well, our first PPV is coming up. I’m sure Marcus is keeping an eye out for people he wants to try for the belts.
Artemis Direction: We have people with proven track records like Jimmy Allen, Lab Rat King, and Zephyr Quinn as well as up-and-comers who have shown some real spark like David O’Toole, Kyle Beckett, and Roy Valentine.
Hiro Suzuki: Guess we’re going to see what happens over these next few matches. Speaking of, looks like we’re about to get things underway!
Kevin Kim: The following match is a standard rules singles match set for one fall! Already in the ring with me is Buck Fruckster. And his opponent!
The lights go out in the arena as "Sail" by Jack Trammell begins playing over the PA system. A single strobe light shines down as Bill Woods is raised from a platform below the entrance stage to the entrance ramp. Bill stands at the top of the entrance ramp in his wrestling gear, his head lowered, a large towel covering his face. Bill's left hand fidgets and twitches nervously, and in his right hand he's holding a nightmarish mask. He appears to be talking to himself, and several times his left hand flashes upward and he hits himself in the face, nearly knocking the towel off each time.
Kevin Kim: From Houston, Texas, weighing in at 267 lbs, he is Bill Woods, THE PIT!
As "Sail" reaches the forty-second mark and the bass drops, Bill dramatically flings the towel off of his head and puts on his mask, screaming at the top of his lungs to herald the arrival of "The Pit". Bill runs to the ring maniacally, his movements becoming jerky and unpredictable before clambering inside to meet his opponent.
Artemis Direction: Well, he certainly knows how to make an entrance.
Del grins fiercely.
Del Ramos: Here we fuckin’ go.
DING DING!
Buck Fruckster tries starting the match with a friendly, hearty handshake. "The Pit" responds by nearly decapitating his opponent with a Clothesline! This act causes a chorus of boos to echo throughout the arena, but the strange man in the nightmare mask just laughs--and then the massacre begins.
Hiro Suzuki: The Pit setting the pace right out of the gate with that clothesline! You know, I once bet my friend all my laundry I could make him cry. You could say there was a lot on the line!
Del Ramos: If he had to listen to a stand-up set from you with laundry-based humor I’m pretty sure you’d be lucky if he didn’t shove you into an industrial strength dryer and rotation roast you like a 7-11 hotdog.
Hiro Suzuki: C’mon, Del! Laundry jokes are great! They just get a lot of bad press!
Using his impressive physique, Bill Woods tosses Buck Fruckster around the ring like a rag doll-- every time Bill slams his opponent to the mat, the entire ring shakes. Fruckster's attempts to regroup are brief and quickly overwhelmed. The chorus of boos eventually turns into shouts of alarm.
And Woods is... still laughing.
Artemis Direction: Oh, dear…
Del, meanwhile, is laughing right along with Woods.
Del Ramos: See?! This guy knows how to party!
Hiro Suzuki: Seems like he’s looking to end it!
Finally, mercifully, "The Pit" seemed to have had its fill. He hits Buck with one final maneuver, his "Embrace the Darkness" finisher, and the sound of Buck's skull and neck being spiked into the canvas is sickening.
Del cackles madly
Del Ramos: Oh, he’s not gettin’ up from that one! Helluva Steiner Screwdriver! Snapped that guy like a fuckin’ twig!
Artemis Direction: Are the EMTs on hand?! I think he might have broken Fruckster’s neck!
The thing known as "The Pit" then points at referee Jill Kincaid, who is gaping at the scene, and shouts for a count.
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
FOUR...
The referee is forced to count Buck out!
NINE...
TEN!
After counting to ten, Jill immediately calls for the bell as medical personnel rush to the ring. As "Sail" by Jack Trammel began playing out across the PA system, the Ascended Wrestling fans shower Bill Woods in a sea of boos.
Kevin Kim: Your winner by count-out, Bill Woods, THE PIT!
Hiro looks a little queasy, shaking his head.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like we have another monster joining our ranks
He's still laughing. Bill Woods simply watches, laughing, squatting in a corner of the ring, as Buck is loaded onto a stretcher. "The Pit" waves goodbye to his first opponent as Buck is being stretchered up the entrance ramp. He then faces the crowd, hold his hands up, and roars at them.
The camera crew is forced to pan away to the commentary booth.
Del looks elated, Artemis disdainful, and Hiro unsettled.
Artemis Direction: Well! I think it’s safe to say that our Underworld title is going to catch more than a few peoples’ interests.
Del Ramos: Good. Y’know, hardcore wrestlers get a lot of shit from people. Told we’re not legit. Told that using weapons makes it a brawl, not a wrestling match. Told we take things too far. It’s bullshit, plain and simple. When you’re at war, you’re looking for absolute victory. That doesn’t mean letting your fucking opponent get up after you’re done with them. If they still have fight in ‘em, you still have work to do. And if that means suplexing them onto thumbtacks, cracking a bat over their head, or cocooning the motherfucker in barbed wire then you do that. We know what we’re getting ourselves into, and it’s not garbage wrestling. It’s the truest distillation of what it means to be a fucking warrior. You walk into battle and you don’t stop until you’re the only one left who can still walk out. When we play, it’s for keeps.
Hiro Suzuki: As it happens, just last night I spilled a box of thumbtacks. Couldn’t help but dance to the rhythm of them as they hit the floor!
Del Ramos: Don’t fucking--
Artemis Direction: Oh, really?
Del Ramos: I swear to Satan and all of his unholy works--
Hiro Suzuki: That’s right; I got down to brass tacks!
Del Ramos: AAAAAAAA--
Kevin Kim: Our next match is a standard singles rules match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!
The arena's lights snuff out as a distant voice proclaims:
A chorus of violins and organs rise in the darkness, and the voice speaks again.
It's been a long time, been a long time comin'
It's life or death for me now
But you know, there's no turning back now
This is what makes me, this is what I am
Feel me, let's go
Kevin Kim: Hailing from Grand Junction, Colorado weighing in at 369lbs, he is The Eliminator, SKUP9!
Bass and drums reverberate through the speakers, filling the arena. A spotlight kicks in on stage and reveals the hulking silhouette of a man standing before the entrance. The lights flare up and The Eliminator's hands fly into the air. He treads down to the ring with thundering steps, casting a hard gaze across the crowd. Most of the audience shy from his stare. At the ringside, one step takes SKUP9 to the apron, and another takes him over and inside, where he stretches in his corner with eyes locked on the entrance.
Del Ramos: After last week, I bet beardo here’s looking to make a statement that he isn’t one to be messed with. Seemed pretty insulted that he’s gotta fight Logan, though.
Hiro Suzuki: I just know that Brendan’s going to show us good things! He needs time, that’s all! And...practice! And hey! A little luck couldn’t hurt!
Del Ramos: I thought you had a crush on SKUP9’s glorious facial hair.
Hiro Suzuki: This match has me so torn!
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
Artemis Direction: Ohhh dear…
Kevin Kim: From Hoboken, New Jersey, weighing in at 172 lbs, he is, ‘The Good Loser,’ BRENDAN LOGAN!
'A Dangerous Man,' by Foxxy Shazam comes on over the sound system. The camera stays focused on the stage for a good long while. Brendan's nowhere to be seen and the music eventually cuts. The cameras search the arena and finally catch a shot of Brendan still getting his tights on with a burger in his mouth while he tries his best to run down the stairs through the crowd. His best isn't enough and he ends up tumbling down the stairs, clumsily slamming into the barricade, then standing with his tights finally all the way up. Brendan throws his arms up with a smile, then hops over the barricade and slides into the ring while his psychiatrist - Dr. Martina Gainor - heads down the ramp with her face buried in the palm of her hand and comes to a stop at Brendan's corner. The twosome have a quick conversation before Brendan prepares for action by curling up in his corner and taking a nice nap.
Del is chuckling to themself, rubbing their hands together.
Del Ramos: Oh this is gonna be a slaughter.
DING DING!
Before Martina can warn her client, SKUP9 has seized the young man by his hair and dragged him roughly to his feet. Startled, Brendan lets out a strangled yelp, hands flying to the one with a grip on his hair.
Hiro Suzuki: Did you know that Pavlov had gorgeous hair?
Del Ramos: All I want is to see a man dismembered on live television and you are ruining it, Suzuki.
Hiro Suzuki: He knew how to condition it well!
As he twists free, Brendan attempts a forearm smash, only to wind up tripping over his own feet and face-planting on the canvas. SKUP9 spares a glance at referee Godric Smith who signals for him to keep going. Lying in a whimpering heap on the mat, Logan flails in alarm as SKUP9 bends at the waist, picking him up and slamming him down to the mat again in a brutal deadlift powerbomb, eliciting, ‘Oooo’s’ of sympathy from the audience! Brendan flops like a fish out of water, SKUP9 shaking his head as he lifts him up and locks him into a bear hug!
Artemis Direction: It doesn’t look good for Brendan!
Hiro Suzuki: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that hold’s not going to be easy to get out of!
SKUP9 scowls as his opponent continues to struggle, legs kicking wildly. As he grips his opponent tighter, Brendan’s head suddenly swivels to one side as if he’s speaking to someone. It then swivels to the other side as if answering the question he just asked.
Del Ramos: ...Is that fool talking to himself?
Hiro Suzuki: Maybe… it’s just his way of… you know, working out strategy! In the ring! During the match! In the middle of a hold!
Nodding authoritatively to himself, Brendan Logan delivers a headbutt, only to fall backwards onto the mat with a wail, holding his own forehead as SKUP9 releases him!
Artemis Direction: Logan looking to turn things around!
Del Ramos: At least he found a use for that melon of his other than growing hair.
Hiro Suzuki: See?!
Logan scrambles back to his feet, the Eliminator looking perturbed, and scuttles away from him to the far side of the ring. Trying to seize the moment while he can, Brendan backs up and takes a running slide at SKUP9, executing a drop toe-hold that sends the big man down!
Del Ramos: Holy shit, this fucker might actually put up a fight.
Hiro Suzuki: That’s it, Brendan! You can do it!
Not seeming to believe his luck, Brendan gets to his feet, beaming, and promptly climbs up the nearest top turnbuckle! As he prepares for a diving crossbody, SKUP9 begins to climb to his feet, looking annoyed. He turns just in time for Logan to come flying off the top turnbuckle--
Hiro Suzuki: HERE IT COMES!
--and right into the Eliminator’s waiting arms.
Hiro Suzuki: ...Ohhhhh no.
Artemis Direction: Logan going for the crossbody but denied by a man who...good heavens, now that I think of it, is more than twice his weight!
Del grins broadly.
Del Ramos: BREAK HIM IN HALF, ELIMINATOR! BATHE IN THE MEAT!
Hardly one to need encouragement to commit acts of violence, SKUP9 lifts a squirming Brendan up into a military press, and promptly drops him for a brutal knee strike!
Artemis Direction: SKUP9 with his signature Expulsion! Oh, my stars and garters, the power of this man!
A dazed Logan is defenseless as the Eliminator winds his arm under his opponent’s armpit and across the chest, letting out a bellow as he locks in his Eradication finisher! Squeaking and thrashing ineffectually, Logan signals his submission!
DING DING DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by submission, The Eliminator, SKUP9!
Artemis Direction: Well, I think it’s safe to say that our bold young giant has shown us he isn’t one to be taken lightly!
Hiro Suzuki: How could he? He’s almost 400 lbs!
Del sighs, rummaging around beneath the commentary desk for a moment before bringing out a black candle, which they set down and light with a zippo, along with what appears to be a book bound in ragged leather, an athame, and a goblet.
Del Ramos: Hey, Hiro, what’s your full, legal name?
Hiro Suzuki: Hiroaki Suzuki. Why?
Del lifts the athame and their free hand, beginning to press the blade to her palm above the goblet.
Del Ramos: No reason.
Artemis Direction: Del, sweetness, you know what Jodie said about working black magic on company time.
Del groans tremendously, pinching out the candle flame with their thumb and forefinger.
Del Ramos: You try to liven up one company picnic and suddenly there’s a whole new chapter in the employee code of conduct.
Artemis Direction: I’m just saying that I have no interest in going through another four weeks of seminars on how Afsah Properties Inc. isn’t paying us to summon the forces of darkness and join them on their Hellish crusade. That kind of thing is for the weekends, dear heart.
Hiro seems distracted, touching his earpiece.
Hiro Suzuki: I’m hearing from Kevin Kim that there may be an altercation occurring in the backstage area--No, I am not going to call you Kev. Can we get a camera back there?
The scene cuts to the backstage of the Colosseum where we see Kyle Beckett walking with purpose, gaze focused, seeming to be psyching himself up for the main event of the evening.
??: Kyle. Hey Kyle!
‘The Sidewinder’ Davie O’Toole yells to try and grab the attention of the ‘Culture Clash’ Kyle Beckett as he wanders the hallways of the Colosseum. The Boy from Aus is too focused, lost in his own thoughts to notice at first. Davie rushes up and taps Kyle on the shoulder.
Kyle Beckett: Oi, Piss off Cu-
The Aussie snaps around, fist raised and ready.
Kyle Beckett: Oh Davie. Soz mate, I didn’t see you there.
David O'Toole: Everything alright?”
Kyle Beckett: Fair dinkum mate, I can’t really stay and chat. I gotta bolt. Got my match against Artie coming up and after all the bull dust coming out of his gob. I’m as mad as a cut snake.
Kyle turns to leave.
David O'Toole: Wait, tad. I just wanted to apol-
??: Well, well. If it isn’t the boy who desperately wants to become a man.
‘The King of Catch’ sidles into the scene, a derisive sneer all too clear on his face. He looks down on Davie and Kyle as an insult to his favoured sport.
David O'Toole: Kyle–
The Sidewinder could read the vibe for what it was, a powder keg about to explode, but Kyle only had eyes for Drake.
Kyle Beckett: No cap Artie. I’m finna beat the ever living shit out of you. Why wait, let’s go the knuckle right bloody now!
David O'Toole: Kyle.
Davie's voice is a warning, teeth grit and staring daggers at Drake.
Arthur Drake: Typical. You call yourself a wrestler but barely know any of the basics and now you’d rather have at it here, devoid of any respect for the art form. Save me the trouble of revealing to the world, the fake you really are, run back home little boy and be a disappointment where you belong. At least they’d be used to it.
Kyle is beyond triggered. With an almost feral yell he charges at the King of Catch. Arthur is expecting it and meets the Aussie’s charge. He drops his shoulder low, barging into Kyle to take the air out of the Aussie, surprising for a costly moment. Next thing the Culture Clash knows, Arthur has him locked into a cravat, wrenching the neck and dragging the inexperienced young man down to the floor. His voice comes out in a hiss.
Arthur Drake: Just give up boy.
Kyle struggles. The more he fights, the tighter Arthur applies his vice-like grip. He could end up doing some serious harm.
Recovering from his own shock and surprise, Davie rushes in to break up the clinch. Arthur holds on like a bulldog though eventually Davie pries him off and knocks him back a step. Kyle seethes while Davie holds him back.
David O'Toole: Cool it, Kyle. This doesn't do you any good.
Kyle Beckett: Let me fuck him up.
David O'Toole: Save it.
Arthur Drake: Yes. At least go down with some dignity. I’ll be waiting.
Smirking, the King of Catch turns and leaves the others behind him. Kyle would have gone in for round two, if not for Davie and the approach of backstage staffers coming to investigate.
David O'Toole: Don’t let him up in your head, tad. You got this.
Kyle Beckett: Fucking A I got this.
Kyle mutters in reply, his gaze not once wavering to where Arthur had once been. Their match was going to get bloody hectic.
The camera cuts back to the commentary table, Del looking elated, Artemis looking intrigued, and Hiro looking apprehensive.
Hiro Suzuki: Drake had some pretty inflammatory things to say about Beckett in his latest promo. I don’t blame him for getting a little hot under the collar.
Del Ramos: Good! Drake’s a powerhouse and Beckett’s a firecracker. I can’t fucking wait to see what they do to each other in the ring. Ascended is going to be Beckett’s savage rite of passage and it’s gonna be exciting seeing what this company and every bit of bloodshed it encourages makes of him.
Artemis Direction: Drake seems determined to show the roster why his style of fighting is superior to any others. Considering his performance on the last Collision, he does make a compelling argument. If Kyle keeps letting people get to him like that, though, it could get him in trouble.
Del Ramos: Drake’s smart. You start your fight in your opponent’s head long before you step into the ring. Before he even throws a punch, he’s got Beckett off his stride.
Hiro Suzuki: We’ll see the resolution to this little spat in our main evening tonight! Until then, we have Mara Lang and Jimmy Allen going at it!
Artemis shakes her head with a sniff.
Artemis Direction: The nerve of that woman to show her face - bruised though it may deservedly be - after what she did on our last show! Bringing King’s family and health into this! Having her lackey attack my dear Silvio when he was only trying to prevent further damage!
Del Ramos: I know, right? How’s she going to top that chaos?
Hiro starts to open his mouth to protest, but Artemis merely lays a hand on his arm and shakes her head.
Hiro Suzuki: Well, this week she’s got Jimmy Allen, and she certainly didn’t ease off the personal attacks.
Del smirks.
Del Ramos: Bringing up his famous dad, Mac, and his equally famous lady friend? Bet that’s a sore spot when you’re trying to strike out on your own.
Artemis Direction: If anyone should be motivated to earn a title here at Ascended, it’s going to be Allen. What better way to make a name for yourself than to forge it in gold? You know, I’m really surprised at myself for not getting more involved in wrestling sooner.
Hiro Suzuki: Oh yeah? Why’s that?
Artemis Direction: Well, sweetness, it’s right up my alley! Outrageous costuming on some of the most incredible bodily specimens available, drama bursting from every seam, pyrotechnics, smoke machines, music, strutting, swaggering, throwing shade, and duking it out over enormously gaudy gold belts? Sweetheart, if anything, I should be asking where the other drag queens are, because this is an absolute feast.
Hiro Suzuki: Huh! I never thought of it like that. Speaking of drag and warriors, did you know Achilles was a drag artist?
Artemis Direction: Was he now?
Hiro Suzuki: Yeah, but he had to stop because the heels were killing him!
Kevin Kim: The following contest is set for one fall! Now entering the ring, weighing in at 185 pounds, from Bellevue, Washington, she is MARA LANG!
The Titan-tron screen comes to life with what looks like a network of nerves branching out in silvery spikes, electrical impulses crackling through them along to the strains of, ‘Twisted Nerve,’ by Bernard Herrmann. Those impulses form the name, ‘Mara Lang,’ in shivering silver letters before they burst into brilliant sparks. The lights on either side of the entrance rotate, flashing white beams in an almost hypnotic pattern as Mara steps through to the top of the ramp. As the sharp whistling sound of Mara’s entrance music cuts through the air, the crowd is quieter than would be expected. There is something unwholesome about the way she strides to the ring, not a motion wasted. The only thing that would suggest any distraction from her destination is the motion of her eyes; casting back and forth among the assembled as if assessing them. The bruises from her match with Lab Rat King, though healing, are still visible as sick yellow splotches across her skin.
Hiro Suzuki: Later tonight we’ll be seeing Mara’s experiment or… protege or… something fighting in Ascended’s first tag match with Roy Valentine. What… what do you think she did to him?
Artemis Direction: Darling, it doesn’t bear dwelling on. Who knows what her sick little mind concocted?
Del Ramos: I just know this kid’s in for it. Lang’s got a mean streak and she’s always looking to deal out a little more pain.
Kevin Kim: And her opponent, weighing in at 246 pounds, all the way from Dallas, Texas, he is “The Catalyst” - JIMMY ALLEN!
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
Keep you in the dark
And so it all began…
“The Catalyst” enters the arena to the slow, melancholy tune of “Pretender” by Seattle’s own Foo Fighters. No pyro or special effects pop as he poses for the audience, arms extended, hands balled into a fist over his head. He looks out over the crowd and smiles as he crosses them into an “X”, the crowd pops as he rushes toward the ring. At the last possible moment, he leaps up and deftly baseball slides under the bottom rope towards the center of the ring. He pops back to his feet and goes to the nearest turnbuckle, where he repeats his pose from the ramp before leaping off into a backward flip back towards the center of the ring.
DING DING!
Mara and Jimmy waste no time and lock up as soon as the bell is struck. Despite her injuries, Mara is in full control of her strength, and proves it as she forces Jimmy back into his corner. Pressing him into the turnbuckle, she begins to pelt her opponent with a series of vicious right-arm elbow strikes to his shoulder and head. Yet her face is calm despite the storm she’s raining down on Jimmy--observing his every wince with a steady curiosity.
Hiro shudders visibly.
Hiro Suzuki: Why does she have to be so creepy?!
Artemis Direction: It’s really just disturbing.
All Jimmy can do to weather the storm is wrench himself back and forth in Mara’s grasp, trying desperately to get a hand free to retaliate, until referee Godric Smith arrives and gives Mara a warning count. At four, she draws away with lowered hands, eyes still following Jimmy’s--but leans forward at the last second to deliver a resounding backhand chop into the Catalyst’s chest!
Del laughs.
Del Ramos: Ooh that’s gotta sting!
While Jimmy pulls himself from the turnbuckle, Mara slides back to center stage, taking deep and measured breaths. The Catalyst shakes himself out and rises to meet her. There’s lightning in his eyes, and as the two wrestlers circle around the ring, he unleashes that bottled energy, flying at Mara! Faster than she can react, Jimmy plants a fist into her chest and a reverse elbow strike into her face. Mara seems more stunned than battered, but her expression changes as Jimmy pulls her face down to meet his rising knee. She reels, bent in half--giving the Catalyst enough time to spring against the far rope, rush back to lock Mara’s head in his arm, and spin her to the canvas in a neckbreaker! Jimmy scrambles to pin!
ONE!
NO! Mara kicks out!
Hiro Suzuki: Allen bounces back and quickly takes control! He may be young, but you can’t deny his experience. It’s serving him well here!
Jimmy flips back to his feet, while Mara rises in a graceful spin that leaves her glaring at her opponent across her shoulder. Her arm is raised, palm flat to Jimmy, as if she’s judging her distance between them. The Catalyst laughs at her laissez-faire stance. He rebounds off the ropes again, rushing toward Lang--who steps away from his kick last-second, retorting with a discus lariat to the back of Jimmy’s head! Mara steps up to Jimmy, now on his knees, and rakes her nails across his back! The Catalyst screams in agony!
Artemis cries out in shock, hands fluttering to her face, Hiro hisses in pain, cringing, and Del lets out a howl of delight.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, Artemis, how do two cats end a fight?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, darling, how?
Hiro Suzuki: They hiss and make up!
A delighted smile fills Mara’s face. Wrenching Jimmy’s arm backwards, she pulls him back to his feet, bent double; seemingly savouring his grunts of pain. Sweat drips from Jimmy’s face. Mara is in complete control as she forces her opponent upright again and intertwines their legs, ready for the russian leg sweep. But the Catalyst whips an elbow into Mara’s face--he clearly has other plans! In Mara’s momentary surprise, Jimmy frees his leg and delivers a mighty calf kick to the back of her knee! Lang stumbles forward in a daze.
Artemis Direction: Thatta boy!
Hiro Suzuki: Allen saved himself from some serious punishment there!
The stands go mad when Jimmy clambers to the top of the nearest turnbuckle. Exhausted as he is, hurting like hell as he is, the Catalyst doesn’t miss the chance to woo a crowd, and crosses his arms above him while looking out at the Ascended Army. Mara isn’t yet on her feet when Jimmy stands tall above the crowd, takes one breath, and takes a stunning backflip off the top ropes--driving his fists down onto her back as he falls! Jimmy rolls Mara up in a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
The audience roars as Allen’s hand is lifted in victory!
Artemis Direction: We certainly had a few close calls there!
Del Ramos: I don’t think Lang considers herself the loser here. She’s just in it for the brutality and I can fuckin’ respect that even if she is fuckin’ weird about it.
Hiro looks nervous, tugging at his collar.
Hiro Suzuki: That Insensate guy of hers really makes me uncomfortable. He’s got this penchant for causing pain for its own sake.
Artemis Direction: I just want to know what on Earth that little gremlin has against my dear child. Whatever it was couldn’t have been worth a steel chair to the back of the head!
Del Ramos: It all comes with the territory, Artemis. No matter what you do, no matter who you are, somebody out there in the wrestling world is gonna find a reason to hate you. And sometimes you express your displeasure with steel chairs. This all feels really personal, though. Like, this masked guy knew Leon from before.
Hiro Suzuki: Not just him - Zephyr Quinn and Lab Rat King, too.
Artemis sighs, rubbing her temples.
Artemis Direction: That little idiot, the Insensate, was foolish enough to follow in his mistress’ footsteps. He threatened to make the Rat a new subject for the good doctor, and did his best to evoke some traumatic memories, it would seem.
Del laughs darkly.
Del Ramos: Ohhhohoho yes. That’s sure to get him riled again.
Hiro Suzuki: Yeah, but that’s why Afsah booked LRK with Silvio. Typically, King is completely unhinged in the ring, but for some reason, Leon has a calming effect on him. It lets them work effectively as a tag team.
Artemis Direction: Valentine pointed that out. He’s going to be teaming with the Insensate, and it sounds like their plan for victory is divide and conquer.
Del Ramos: And LRK’s not the only one who’s got reason to be heated. The Insensate has been prodding and taunting Silvio since our very first show. I think pretty boy’s patience has just about run out.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, the following contest is Ascended’s first tag team match and is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!
Bathed in darkness, for a long moment there’s silence in the arena. There’s a crackle of static as the Titan-tron flickers to life along with the first note of, ‘Hellbent,’ by the Mystery Skulls vibrating electric throughout the arena, crescendoing in volume and pitch. An image begins to emerge from the static, becoming clear as the music falls into driving electronic beats - Lab Rat King’s logo with a Ouija board style planchette emblazoned upon it, point down. Black lights illuminate the entrance as smoke rolls out along the ramp.
His enormous silhouette emerges from the smoke first. Cloaked in the dark, the mutant’s frightening musculature is highlighted in smears of reactive paint. The muzzle that guards his mouth is painted with monster teeth in the same fluid. His collar is on--but the chains are in his own hands, wrapped around his fists like steel knuckles.
From behind The Lab Rat King, Silvio emerges, pivoting around on one heel as if he were separating from the mutant’s shadow; a Halloween Daydream come to life. He grins, white teeth luminous in the black light, as he swings his hands up, palms out, in front of his eyes. His hands, wrapped in white tape, have Illuminati-style seeing eyes scribbled on them in black ink. As he drops them hard to his sides, a pair of white pyros burst to life on either side of the entrance, nearly blinding in their brightness. As the house lights begin to rise, Kevin Kim’s voice rises above the music.
Kevin Kim: At a combined weight of 480 pounds, hailing from Seattle, Washington and Portland, Oregon-- “The Oracle” Silvio Leon and The Lab Rat King” -- HELLBENT!
As Silvio Leon takes to revving up the crowd, shooting finger guns and handing out high-fives, King rips the collar from his own neck, leaving it discarded behind him in a pile of steel chain. Silvio uses King’s bulk as a boost to hop onto the apron, followed by the beast of a man crawling in after him, standing to his full height with a terrifying stillness that can only be described as unsettling.
Kevin Kim: And their opponents! Now coming to the ring accompanied by Mara Lang, he is from parts unknown, THE INSENSATE!
The eerie piano opening of “The Experiment” plays as a massive tank is wheeled out onto the entrance ramp. As the lyrics begin, Mara Lang steps out from behind the tank, her face covered by a blank, white mask. The tank hisses as Mara steps in front, the first thing the Insensate sees and the last before his senses are assaulted by the sudden stimulation from the noise of the crowd. With one last look at Mara, The Insensate moves to the ring and climbs in.
Silvio and King both glower at the Insensate from their corner of the ring, the fortune teller’s shoulders tensing. It looks like they’re both having difficulty restraining themselves. The Insensate is smirking cruelly, pacing lazily in his corner, not taking his eyes from the pair across from him.
Kevin Kim: And his partner! Now coming to the ring from Cape Elizabeth, Maine weighing in at 219 pounds, he is ROY VALENTINE!
The Titan-tron comes to life with a kaleidoscopic vision of roses, irises, and peonies, a metal cover of Four Seasons (L'inverno, Winter), by Vivaldi filling the arena as the lights flash in shades of red, pink, white, and blue. A shower of petals sweeps across the entrance, carpeting the ramp in a fragrant layer of roses and jasmine. Roy crosses the threshold of the entrance, carrying a signature "Valentine Velvet" rose next to his heart. He takes a deep breath of the flower, tosses it into the crowd, and enters the ring, blowing a kiss to the audience with each hand.
DING DING!
Silvio and the Insensate begin in the ring, the pair circling one another. Silvio’s body language is purposeful, ready, coiled like a serpent. The Insensate, on the other hand, is loping, almost swaggering, smiling like the cat that got the cream. As Silvio steps in to tie up with him, the Insensate skips back, tagging in Valentine and ducking onto the apron. The Oracle looks annoyed, and his momentary lapse in attention costs him a forearm strike from Valentine.
Del Ramos: Oof. Looks like Leon’s already off his game with the gimp. If he doesn’t keep his mind where the match is at, he’s going to be in trouble.
Valentine is looking at Leon with an almost pitying expression, shaking his head a little as he circles him. Silvio steps up again, locking up with Valentine and trading holds. Valentine pivots with his hips, whipping the Oracle into the ropes. Leon bounces off of them, coming flying back at Valentine only to find himself on the receiving end of a back body drop. He arches off the canvas, crying out in pain.
Artemis Direction: Come on, darling! You can do this!
Hiro Suzuki: This might be over before it gets started if the Oracle can’t focus up.
Valentine stalks toward Leon, but as he gets close, the prone high-flyer snaps back up, hooking his foot around Valentine’s ankle and yanking as hard as he can! Valentine falls over, chest hitting the top rope as Silvio spins back up to his feet. Reaching down, he catches hold of Valentine’s ankles, lifting them and sending the botanical baron spilling out onto the mats outside the ring!
Hiro Suzuki: Here I thought Roy’s favorite season would be Spring, but it looks like it’s Fall!
Del Ramos: I will cut you.
As Valentine begins to climb to his feet, Silvio backs up in the ring, holds up a fist with one pinkie raised in the air yelling, ‘PINKIES UP!’ before charging forward, vaulting over the top rope, and hitting Valentine with a tope con hilo!
Artemis Direction: Aw, look at my boy making it fancy!
The pair start to stir, Silvio getting to his feet first and grabbing Roy by the scruff of his neck, having no regard for preserving the man’s dignity. Hauling him back into the ring, he walks him over to his corner where he tags in his partner.
Del Ramos: And now we let the monster out to play!
Artemis Direction: I’m sure all those ‘dessicated tree’ remarks aren’t going to go unanswered.
Del Ramos: God Valentine has a weird way of shit talking people.
The Lab Rat King surges into the ring like a hunting dog being released, and he’s on top of Roy instantly, reaching to grab him around the torso--still somewhat stunned but not completely out of it, Valentine lashes out almost with a self-preservation instinct, striking the Lab Rat in the eyes! The monster roars in fury, swiping at Roy blindly while he takes a step back to regain his composure. With considerable ring awareness he stays close to the ropes, knowing the mutant man’s reputation for brutal submission holds. He reels back, bouncing off the ropes behind him to gain momentum, rushing King with an uppercut! His fist connects with the leather of King’s muzzle, but the best recovers almost instantly with a snarl, and as Roy’s momentum carries him past the beast sweeps him up into a brutal sidewalk slam!
Artemis Direction: TIMBER, DARLINGS!
Hiro Suzuki: Did you hear about the man who went to Canada to cut down the magic tree?
Artemis Direction: No, dearest, what happened?
Hiro Suzuki: Well, the guy raised his axe and the tree cried out, ‘Wait, wait, I’m a talking tree!’ Do you know what the man said in return?
Artemis Direction: What’s that?
Hiro Suzuki: “Then I guess you’ll dialogue!”
Del Ramos: If you don’t shut your fucking food door you’re going to die a lot.
Roy attempts to roll back toward his corner, starting to feel his bumps and longing for the sweet release of a tag-out. He makes some headway as King is still rubbing at his eyes, and with a grimace of frustration, tags out to The Insensate!
The moment the Insensate’s boots are in the ring, the Lab Rat King rushes him, roaring so close to his face that it makes the much smaller man recoil in reflex. It’s not enough distance, though, as King grabs his masked opponent, hauling him effortlessly into the air in a delayed vertical suplex! The Insensate is forced to hang, blood rushing to his head as the mutant’s voice thunders through the arena.
Lab Rat King: TIME TO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!!
Artemis Direction: Ooh...looks like daddy’s putting that naughty boy into a time out!
SLAM!! The Insensate crashes to the mat on King’s other side, hissing through clenched teeth against the lance of pain through his back. He opens his eyes to see Leon looking down at him, though, and it spurs some kind of rage in him that has him returning to his feet.
Silvio tags back in, eyes alight with the same eagerness that glows in the Insensate’s. As the Oracle steps into the ring, he's almost immediately met with a roundhouse kick which he ducks! As he pops back up, he tries for a super kick only for the Insensate to catch hold of his leg and twist him around in a dragon screw, sending him to the mat! The pair both spring back to their feet, albeit Silvio a bit less spryly, and fall toward each other again. After trading a few holds, Silvio manages a quick hip toss, sending the Insensate to the canvas, and he swiftly folds their legs together, falling to the mat in a figure four leglock! However, as he puts the pressure on, his opponent doesn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact, he just looks at Silvio, shakes his head and laughs.
Del Ramos: Ohhh so this is what Lang was talking about!
Hiro Suzuki: Good God! His pain tolerance is so high it’s like he doesn’t even feel it!
Artemis Direction: They’re not going to win by making him submit!
Silvio seems to realize this the moment Artemis says it, but before he can release the Insensate, he finds himself being turned over, the hold reversing! He grits his teeth and cries out, his opponent still laughing merrily.
Del Ramos: Ohhh this is that good shit…
Hiro Suzuki: This is obscene is what it is!
Jill Kincaid checks in with Silvio to see if he wants to submit. He resolutely shakes his head, setting his teeth and crawling for the nearest rope. With effort, he makes it, and the ref breaks up the submission. The pair get to their feet again, Silvio glaring daggers at the masked man, the Insensate still grinning with mocking gleefulness. His lip curling, the fortune teller lets out a cry and falls forward, delivering forearm strike after forearm strike to the Insensate! Forcing his opponent back into the turnbuckle, he can be seen mouthing the word, ‘WHY?’ all the while, the Insensate just laughs. Frustrated, Silvio shoves the Insensate away, mounts the turnbuckle, and takes him down with his Starry Wisdom Tornado DDT!
The pair of them sprawled on the mat, Silvio goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winners by pinfall, HELLBENT!
Artemis Direction: And what a spectacular first tag team match this has been! Truly one for the--
In the ring, Kevin Kim is raising Silvio and LRK’s hands in victory. However, just behind them, getting to his feet, the Insensate reaches up and begins to unlace the back of his mask. Sensing movement, Silvio snaps around, ready for an attack, but he freezes as he watches the Insensate loosen the covering around his head. Still tense for an attack, Silvio’s expression dissolves into one of cold unsullied horror as the mask is tossed aside, and the person behind it is revealed. His eyes might be a bit hollow, and he might have a smile to match, but the profusion of curls is unmistakable.
For a moment, the Oracle can’t move; can’t speak. When he finally does, his voice is so small and broken one can only make out the name he mouths.
Silvio Leon: ...Seb?
The man who was the Insensate motions for a mic from Kevin Kim.
Sebastian Hawke: Surprised? I am. I figured you would have forgotten my name at this point. I guess I should be flattered, huh, Mr. Hero?
Silvio doesn’t seem to know what to say, what to do.
Sebastian Hawke: Oh, no witty rejoinder, snide remark, or smart ass comment? C’mon, Sil, don’t disappoint the folks at home.
Silvio shakes his head, taking a step toward him starting to open his mouth to say something when Sebastian steps forward swiftly and delivers a stiff right cross to his jaw. Silvio’s head snaps backward and he staggers a few steps.
Sebastian Hawke: On second thought, save your material. We’ve got plenty to discuss and all the time in the world to do it.
The crowd is a jumbled reaction of jeers and confusion as Sebastian Hawke and Roy Valentine turn and leave the ring.
The scene back at the commentary table is one of shock for Hiro and Artemis, delight for Del.
Del Ramos: What did I tell you? This fight’s just getting started.
Silvio’s footsteps are heavy as he makes his way back to the locker room. A few people backstage glance up and part for him, staring after his back as he passes. Shoulders slumped, he comes to his locker at last and pulls it open.
Unexpectedly, there is an envelope resting on top of Silvio’s bag--unmarked, but deep red in colour, sealed with a featureless circular gold sticker.
The Oracle hesitates, brow furrowed. He glances around briefly before picking the letter up and unsealing it, pulling out the contents. Inside is a single piece of letter paper, folded; the message is typed, not handwritten, and bears no signature or letterhead.
Hey there, kiddo!
This is gonna be your first, last and only warning, ok? I’m getting real tired of you and your stupid friends playing lifeguard for my pet project. I’m gonna take back what belongs to me, whether you like it or not, so this is your chance to get your pretty little ass the hell out of my way. I’m more than happy to go through you to get to him. Hell, maybe I’ll make it a twofer--don’t think I haven’t noticed your little lion-taming act. What’s that about? How are you pulling that off? Sure would like to find out. I’ve definitely got the equipment.
The rat goes back in the cage. You can either step aside, or climb in with him, kiddo. Your choice.
The color drains from Silvio’s face and he swallows visibly.
Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against the locker, closing his eyes, letter held loosely in one hand, the other hanging at his side. For a long, deafeningly quiet moment, he doesn’t move; doesn’t even seem to breathe. Then, all at once as if animated by a sudden bolt of fire from within, he arches backward, letting out a cry from some hollow place where his sense of self and safety once was. Reeling back with a speed and force that seems borderline inhuman, he slams a fist into the locker beside him, the squealing cry of crumpling metal joining his voice as the scene cuts abruptly to black.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army this is your main event of the evening set for one fall! Introducing first!
The house lights dim as harsh, stark pulses of white light strobe from the entrance at the top of the ramp. As the beat of London Calling drops, Arthur Drake marches out onto the stage, wearing a leather jacket adorned with various 70's and 80's Punk band logos.
Kevin Kim: Coming to us from Tower Hamlets, London, England weighing in at 234 lbs, he is ‘The King of Catch,’ ARTHUR DRAKE!
He continues his march down the ramp and to the steel steps, walks up and wipes his feet on the apron, before entering the ring.
Artemis Direction: Earlier this evening we saw Drake and Beckett mixing it up in the back! These boys simply can’t contain themselves.
Del Ramos: I can hardly blame them. They both left everything behind to be here; left entire continents to come chase this violent vision. That’s fucking metal. You don’t do that without the most brutal of dedications to the fight.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
'Stick To Your Guns,' by the Sick Puppies comes on over the sound system and Kyle stands at the top of the entrance ramp, bent slightly forward and arms crossed. He drops the hood of his jacket and throws his arms out wide, letting out an excited roar to the crowd. He looks around to take in the arena before striding down the ramp.
Kevin Kim: From Brisbane, Australia weighing in at 201 pounds, he is the ‘Culture Clash,’ KYLE BECKETT!
Kyle ascends on to the ring apron, looking out to the arena again with a sly grin on his face and climbs to the top of the turnbuckle where he cries out ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!,’ to which the crowd responds, ‘Oi, Oi, Oi!’ before leaping down to the ring and preparing himself for the match.
Hiro Suzuki: You know, I was thinking about it, and kangaroos! They’re an animal from Australia that’s not horrible! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!
Del Ramos: You’re kidding, right?
Hiro Suzuki: What? No! Why would I be? Kangaroos just hop around and they have little pouches where they keep their babies! They’re adorable!
Del Ramos: You’ve never seen one of those things close up, have you?
Del takes out their phone and appears to scroll through a few things before handing it to Hiro.
Hiro Suzuki: IT HAS ABS?! WHY DOES IT HAVE ABS?!
Del Ramos: Yeah that ain’t all.
Hiro Suzuki: WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ITS ARMS?! Oh my GOD those CLAWS!
Del Ramos: Let’s look up kangaroo attacks…
Hiro turns distinctly green and ducks to the side of the commentary table, groping for a waste basket.
DING DING!
The two fighters in the ring begin to circle each other. Kyle is notably more nervy, anger making his motions severe whereas Arthur is the picture of calm, smiling in an almost avuncular manner to the younger man; as if he finds this cute on Kyle’s part. Smirking, Drake gives Kyle a wink, and the younger man’s eyes flash with anger before he tries for a spinning heel kick! Drake catches his leg, and Kyle attempts to transition into an enzuigiri, but Arthur denies him, taking him down to the mat and locking him into a knee bar! Beckett grunts in pain, writhing in the hold.
Del Ramos: The youngster’s coming in hot; letting it get the better of him.
Artemis Direction: Arthur’s smart; keeping Kyle on the mat in his territory. Drake might not think much of it, but Beckett’s style is still plenty dangerous if he gets some momentum going.
Arthur seems perfectly content to keep the pressure on, and at first Kyle just thrashes without much thought into how he’s going to get free. As he centers himself though, he grits his teeth, focuses, and begins to shift the point of leverage, shoving his foot against Drake’s leg and forcing his knee up, giving himself enough time and space to break free. He climbs to his feet, faltering for a moment, and soon Arthur’s vertical as well. Thinking fast, Beckett runs toward one of the turnbuckles, Drake close behind him. As Arthur’s about to grab hold of the back of Kyle’s neck, the younger man hops up on the second rope, does a quick flip over his opponent, who catches himself on the ropes with his hands. Before he can turn, however, Beckett’s delivered a calf kick, sending Drake slamming into the turnbuckle!
Hiro Suzuki: That’s the momentum right there! Drake better nip this in the bud!
Arthur turns around, and the playfulness in his expression from before is gone, replaced by a grim sort of determination as if to say, ‘Okay, kid, you’ve had your fun, but playtime’s over.’ As he stalks toward Beckett, the high flyer seizes hold of the top rope and goes for a springboard crossbody, only to be caught by Drake, who turns it into a German suplex! Kyle seems out of sorts, blinking dazedly, though he comes right back to attention with a wail of pain as Arthur drags him to his feet and punishes him in a brutal abdominal stretch!
Artemis Direction: Ooh, darlings, no amount of crunches can prepare you for that!
Hiro Suzuki: Oof, yeah, I just couldn’t stomach that!
Del Ramos: I swear I’m going to pull your pancreas out through your fucking ear one day.
Hiro Suzuki: How would that work? Could you exspleen it to me?
Artemis Direction: Beckett’s not in good shape.
Hiro Suzuki: I’ll say! Drake really rectum!
Kyle struggles, trying to figure a way out of the hold. Godric Smith checks in to see if he wants to submit, but Beckett emphatically shakes his head no! The Australian lets out a howl of effort as he pushes forward with the arm locked in the hold while he shoves with the other hand against the leg Drake is using to stabilize himself! As he throws his weight, Arthur goes down, face slamming into the mat and allowing Beckett to struggle free. Drake climbs to his feet, dazed, and Beckett is ready for him. Blow by blow, he fights Drake back into one of the turnbuckles, hanging him up on the top rope. He even mounts the second rope, getting a few headshots as a bit of an insurance policy for what he’s going to do next. Then, breathing ragged, he backs himself up into the opposite turnbuckle and goes bolting right toward Drake! As he launches himself upward, catching hold of the top ropes, Arthur grabs his thighs, and it almost looks like he’s going to deny Beckett, when Kyle swings back down and around, taking Drake with him, and slamming him into the canvas head first!
Artemis Direction: Beckett hits the Culture Shock!
Kyle goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
As Beckett’s arm is raised in victory, Drake climbs to his feet, something dangerous burning in his eyes.
Del Ramos: Heh...I don’t think Drake liked being pinned by one of our resident acrobats…
Artemis Direction: They both offer so much with this match. It’s fascinating to see two people who exemplify such wildly different approaches!
Hiro Suzuki: I think it’s safe to say they’re going to Clash again! Get it? Because of Drake’s entrance music and Beckett’s--
Del Ramos: Where the fuck did I put that athame?
Artemis Direction: Join us again in two weeks for our next edition of Collision! Goodnight, Ascended Army!
Credits
‘The Pit’ Bill Woods vs. Buck Fruckster - Oli
Catch Some Culture - Kyle Beckett, Arthur Drake, Davie O’Toole
Jimmy Allen vs. Mara Lang - Aedan
Hellbent vs. Roy Valentine & The Insensate - Ampersand and Zen
Letter from Rose - Zen
Everything Else - Ampersand