Post by Ampersand on Jan 28, 2022 9:05:50 GMT
A rapid, repetitive chant crackles through the arena, lights strobing to match.
The big screen lights up to show Alex Kincaid standing in the middle of the Ascended ring. He smiles, cracking his knuckles, breathing it in and readying to dive once again into the breach. He wouldn’t have it any other way. The image then cuts to Kyle Beckett standing in the entranceway to the stage. His eyes are still irritated from whatever it was Fruckster attacked him with, and he turns to walk to the backstage with purpose. As he does, he passes by Thorne, another new signee, strategizing with her manager, Ivy. The pair quiet as Kyle goes by, though once he’s out of earshot, Ivy’s expression changes and she takes out a little sketch book that has a peculiarly patterned circle in dots and slashes drawn across one page.
As we continue moving back stage, we see Frater Perdurabo emerging from the shadows. He looks over a poster to promo the upcoming card and smirks at the fighters featured in the main event. His lurking doesn’t go unnoticed by David O’Toole, the spry young man seated in the rafters, observing those moving below. He stiffens a bit as he watches Viola stalking toward the gym. Usually surefooted on precarious terrain, when Valentine comes into view, stops, and looks up to see exactly where Davie huddles in the dim, the young man holds his breath. As the view swings back down, another person can be seen watching Valentine. Taping up his hands for his upcoming fight, the Oracle’s eyes follow the floral magnate as he moves through the backstage area. It’s only when another shadow falls across him that he looks up. Grinning, he extends a hand for Kang King, the Lab Rat King, to shake in a show of good sportsmanship. LRK takes his hand, then proceeds to pull Silvio in as if he’s about to put him into a hold. The pair exchanges a few maneuvers before parting, both of them grinning with anticipation.
The camera swings around to the commentary table where Hiro Suzuki, dressed in a navy suit, is seated between Artemis Direction and Del Ramos. Artemis wears a form-fitting black turtleneck that shimmers beneath the house lights, her hair a sleek golden curtain. Del is dressed in shredded jeans and an equally demolished forest green sweater over a black t-shirt.
Hiro Suzuki: Welcome to Collision, Ascended Army! I’m Hiro Suzuki and joining me tonight on commentary are Artemis Direction…
Artemis blows the camera a kiss.
Artemis Direction: Hello, darlings!
Hiro Suzuki: …And Del Ramos!
Del Ramos: I hope you all did your homework and made the necessary blood sacrifices I requested. I’m gonna need a lot of demonic energy to erase Suzuki from this plane of existence, and goat entrails only stay fresh for so long. If I have to freeze them and thaw them out again later, I can’t guarantee the results.
Hiro Suzuki: What?
Del Ramos: What?
Hiro Suzuki: Er… anyway, folks! We have a great show for you tonight!
Del Ramos: Maybe after the first match. Who the Hell let Fruckster and Squat Thrust out of their cages?
Artemis Direction: Fruckster seems to be feeling a bit saucy after what he did to Kyle Beckett on our last Collision.
Hiro Suzuki: He fought alongside Big McLargeHuge in a tag match against the team of Beckett and Williams. Beckett and Williams had some cooperation issues, but things really came to a head when Fruckster threw something into Kyle’s eyes that blinded him! Ultimately, Williams and Beckett prevailed, but apparently whatever Fruckster used was no joke.
Del Ramos: Sounds like you got a lot in common with it, Suzuki.
Artemis Direction: Whatever that nasty business Fruckster used was, it seems to have sidelined our dear Culture Clash for this show.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, that reminds me! What did the far-sighted owl say to its near-sighted trainer?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, sweetling, what?
Hiro Suzuki: ”Who?”
Del growls lowly, hands slowly balling into fists.
Artemis Direction: We have quite the treat for our next bout! A positively delicious piece of eye candy just joined the roster and I, for one, am eager to see him in action!
Del Ramos: Alex Kincaid. I just want to see him wreck shop. Guy’s built like a brick shit house, and he’s got the chops to fuck shit up in the ring. Give me brutality, new blood!
Hiro Suzuki: We have another debut following Kincaid’s! ‘The Sidewinder’ David O’Toole facing off against another new signee, Thorne!
Del Ramos: That Thorne chick seems alright. She reminds me of Logan; another powerful bitch for the roster. Keep ‘em coming.
Artemis Direction: O’Toole has shown himself to be resilient and never one to shy away from a fight no matter who the opponent is. If Thorne wants to win, she’s going to have to be either more clever or more resilient than David, and that’s not going to be easy!
Hiro Suzuki: So far O’Toole’s the only one to get a win over the Lab Rat King! He might have had to have a ceiling collapse on him, but… still counts!
Del Ramos: He’s shown he can take an ass kickin’ and keep on tickin’. I respect that shit.
Artemis sniffs disdainfully.
Artemis Direction: After that we’ll be seeing Frater Perdurabo again. I don’t know why they keep letting that monster onto the premises!
Del Ramos: He ain’t gettin’ off easy. Rayne’s on his dance card tonight, and that carnivorous queen ain’t lettin’ a chance at revenge pass her by.
Artemis Direction: Certainly not, sweetheart! I suspect she’ll be looking to get even not only on behalf of her sister, but herself! Let us not forget the outcome of the Rumble at our Jingle Bell Bash PPV!
Hiro Suzuki: Frater eliminated Rayne from the Rumble, which took her out of contention for an Underworld Championship title shot!
Del Ramos: I don’t give a shit if there’s gold on the line. I need to see Rayne vs. King and soon. Same with King vs. Frater.
Artemis Direction: Perdurabo does seem intent on making that last one happen, darling.
Del Ramos: In the meantime, I’ll settle for this spiteful little bout between Williams and Valentine.
They smirk.
Del Ramos: They both got it in for each other, and it’s gonna be nasty; I can tell.
Artemis Direction: My personal feelings about his conduct aside, I must say that Valentine’s promo was quite the production!
Del Ramos: I don’t think I’ve ever met a more dramatic fucker, and I’ve been in wrestling and heavy metal, so that’s saying something.
Hiro Suzuki: I’d think your quilting circle would have the worst of the drama.
Del Ramos: Nice try, Suzuki. You’re not catching me that easy.
Hiro Suzuki: Just let me be part of your world! I still don’t know if you’re messing with me about the arts and crafts!
Del Ramos: Then I’m doing it right.
Artemis Direction: And then we have our main event of the evening! World Champion versus Underworld Champion!
Del Ramos: This was gonna happen sooner or later. How big of a smear do you think Leon’ll leave on the canvas?
Artemis Direction: Now, don’t be so hasty, Del-icious! My child might not hold a candle to King as far as sheer mass goes, but he knows how to handle larger opponents!
Del Ramos: If you’re talking about his defense against SKUP, he barely squeaked a win out there. That was as much luck as it was skill.
Hiro Suzuki: Even if that’s the case, Leon’s proven he’s capable in the ring, and O’Toole has shown us that King’s not invincible.
Artemis Direction: A thrilling little note to end on, sweetness! But if we’re going to get there, we need to strike up the band!
Del Ramos: Ugh. Let’s get this shit over with so we can get to the good stuff.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army your opening contest is set for one fall! Already in the ring with me is Beef Squat Thrust!
Nature’s foulest beef-based mistake stalks around the ring, cracking his knuckles.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
The cameras go backstage, Buck Fruckster walking through the hallways of the Colosseum preparing himself for his match against Beef Squat Thrust. Buck rounds a corner, straight into the flat, unyielding surface of a steel chair, slamming him right in the face! The Fruckster drops to the floor as The Culture Clash Kyle Beckett stands above him, weapon in hand. The Boy from Aus uses his free hand to grab a handful of Buck’s hair and lifts his head up to look at Kyle as he speaks.
Kyle Beckett: Eye for an Eye you Bloody Wanker. You kept me from competing this week ‘cause of that cheugy shit you threw in my eye. So now I’ll stop you from competing.
A slow deliberate clapping grabs Kyle’s attention. He releases Buck, turning to see Mara Lang watching and smiling appreciatively.
Kyle Beckett: We gonna come a gutser? Cause I’m in the mood for a real blue?
Mara gives a little smile, spreading her hands placatingly.
Mara Lang: Why would I want to do that? I’m merely observing and appreciating your handiwork.
Kyle Beckett: Drongo had it coming.
Mara Lang: Clearly. Taking the initiative, consequences be damned… I imagine there are those who would write it off to the fiery impulses of youth and an overabundance of testosterone, but we know better, don’t we, Kyle?
She takes a few gliding steps toward him.
Mara Lang: This is desperation. You want so badly to be noticed. To be recognised.
Kyle Beckett: Struth. What do you bloody want, besides throwing shade?
Mara shrugs delicately.
Mara Lang: I recognise your struggle and you have my sympathy.
Kyle Beckett: Soz Sheila, but you don’t know me from a bar of soap, so don’t you go trying to read me for filth.
Mara only smiles, green eyes flicking briefly to the side before meeting Kyle’s again.
Mara Lang: You’d best be off before the officials catch you in the act. But a bit of advice. You cannot wait for opportunities. No one will give them to you. Not even those you may consider friends. If you want something, you must be willing to seize it for yourself.
She glances down at the prone form of Fruckster, raising a brow, her lip curling briefly before she looks at Kyle again with a conspiratorial little smile.
Mara Lang: And don’t worry. I won’t tattle.
With that, Mara disappears down a nearby corridor at the sound of approaching footsteps. Kyle takes one look at where the woman was previously standing then back down to Buck. He drops the steel chair then with a scoff, making his own exit from the scene.
Back at the commentary table, Artemis and Hiro are looking disconcerted while Del is cackling happily.
Del Ramos: I take it back - that was a great opening bout!
Artemis Direction: I must say, regardless of Fruckster’s behavior, I didn’t expect Kyle to stoop to that kind of retaliation…
Del scoffs, rolling their eyes.
Del Ramos: Stoop. Fruckster fucked around an found out.
Hiro Suzuki: I think you mean frucked arou– ow! Del! Hey! That’s my foot you’re stomping on!
Del Ramos: Oops. Let me just make sure I know where it is so it doesn’t happen again.
Artemis Direction: I don’t like the idea of Lang getting her hooks into another person. After what she did to Sebastian Hawke…
Del Ramos: Say what you will, but Hawke is holding a title right now, thanks at least partially to that fashy cunt’s bullshit.
Hiro Suzuki: Lang’s ‘treatments’ apparently granted Hawke a greatly increased pain tolerance. It almost certainly came into play during his defense at the Jingle Bell Bash where he took Roy Valentine to Ascended’s first time-out in a thirty minute long match!
Del Ramos: So if Beckett’s looking for a way to get an edge…
Del chuckles, smiling malevolently.
Del Ramos: Maybe Lang’s already got a regimen waiting just for him.
Hiro gives a little shudder, brow knit.
Hiro Suzuki: Can we talk about literally anything else? Like our next match, maybe?
Artemis gives an excited little shimmy of her shoulders.
Artemis Direction: Oooh yes, let’s do Mr. Kincaid is new to Ascended, but not to wrestling! He’s got quite the resume to back up that spectacular... well, darlings let’s face it, everything on him!
Del Ramos: Satan’s horns, you’re thirsty.
Artemis Direction: Sweetness, you simply cannot expect human specimens of this physical quality and presentation to go uncommented upon by mother!
Hiro Suzuki: Say, that reminds me! What do you give someone who hasn’t moved a muscle in a year?
Artemis Direction: What’s that, darling?
Hiro Suzuki: A trophy!
Del Ramos: Did you know it takes 462 muscles to dig a hole deep enough so the cops can never find out what you did?
Hiro Suzuki: Huh! Really?
Del Ramos: Yeah, I can show you after we’re done here tonight.
Kevin Kim: The following match is set for one fall with a thirty minute time limit!
“Delirium" by The Dead South rings out as “Infinite” Alex Kincaid makes his way out onto the stage accompanied by Alyssa Kincaid on his left and Amelia Terrance on his right. He bounces around slightly, getting himself psyched as his eyes lock in on the ring, never straying from Hot Dropkick. Alyssa and Amelia take turns whispering in either ear and he nods before bouncing a few more times and heads down to the ring.
Artemis Direction: The women in Alex Kincaid’s life have reportedly been his stalwart supports and inspirations through the years.
Del Ramos: Looks like he’s not abandoning their good advice any time soon. Smart guy.
With uncertain confidence, Kincaid gets into the ring, shaking out his arms to get rid of any nerves, he takes a deep breath and steadies himself before his gaze narrows at Hot Dropkick. Referee Godric Smith calls for the bell and “Infinite” Alex Kincaid and Hot Dropkick instantly meet in the middle of the ring and tie up! Hot Dropkick gets the advantage first as he floats around Kincaid and slaps him in the back of the head in a complete show of disrespect! The Ascended Army, jeers in response!
Artemis Direction: Hmm. Is Mr. Kincaid still shaking off the ring rust?
Del Ramos: Looks like his opponent is counting on it. I don’t think Kincaid’s gonna take it lying down, though.
Kincaid’s face turns red and he whips around, slapping Hot Dropkick across the chest with a knife-edge chop! Hot Dropkick stumbles back to the closest corner, which happens to be the one Alyssa Kincaid is standing behind. He looks from Alex to Alyssa and a devious smile crosses his lips as he winks down at Alyssa and whistles at her!
Artemis Direction: Oooh not a wise move on Dropkick’s part…
Alex has seen enough and charges in, hitting Hot Dropkick with a hard clothesline! His face red, Alex isn’t done laying out the punishment as he trades from hard jabs to the chin and more knife-edge chops!
Del lets out a delighted roar.
Del Ramos: SHOW US YOUR BRUTALITY, KINCAID! I WANT TO SEE THE KILLER IN YOU COME OUT TO PLAY!
Alex backs up and gets a running start, looking for a high knee lift, but at the last moment, Dropkick moves out of the way, sending Alex knee first into the corner! This time it’s Hot Dropkick getting a running start and he charges “Infinite” Alex Kincaid. Amelia runs over and yells “clothesline!” at the last possible moment and Alex responds, throwing himself from the corner with an elbow strike that sends Hot Dropkick reeling!
Hiro Suzuki: Kincaid’s crew coming through for him!
“Infinite” Kincaid isn’t done there as he quickly grabs Dropkick by the waistband and pulls him in, setting up a ripcord and delivering a massive ripcord clothesline that turns Hot Dropkick inside out, a move dubbed “The Revolver Lariat!”
Artemis fans herself, shaking her head.
Artemis Direction: Kincaid simply dominating, darlings! I think I might need a divan to faint on!
“Infinite” Alex Kincaid gets himself pumped as The Ascended Army comes to life. Hot Dropkick begins to recover and manages to get to shaky footing before Kincaid grabs him and hoists him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before throwing him off, grabbing Dropkick by the head and delivering a massive cutter, a move deemed The Finishing Touch! Kincaid drops and makes the cover as Smith slides in to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by pinfall, ‘Infinite’ ALEX KINCAID!
The Ascended Army is on its feet, roaring in approval of the newcomer!
Artemis Direction: What a debut from our new signee!
Hiro Suzuki: The guy’s got some chops and he’s not afraid to throw a few, that’s for sure!
Del Ramos: To quote a wise man, ‘Nothing is more badass than treating women with respect.’ If this guy brings that badass attitude with him to the ring, he’s gonna go far. Heh. And speaking of women and badasses…
Artemis Direction: We have another debut in our next match! And what an explosive attitude she has!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, did you hear about the explosion at the clothing store?
Artemis Direction: That sounds like an absolute tragedy, dear heart!
Hiro Suzuki: Oh, yeah. There were many casual tees!
Del is muttering quietly to themself.
Del Ramos: ...Not on company time… not on company time… just wait until you’re off your shift before the homicide happens… nobody wants another sensitivity training course about exsanguination…
Artemis Direction: Thorne showed some real spark in her promo! It’ll be interesting to see her facing off against David O’Toole.
Hiro Suzuki: There’s been something… different lately about O’Toole.
Del Ramos: You mean better? He finally showed his truly vicious side in that fight with King. He might not have walked away with gold, but he did achieve undying, gore-spattered glory with that fucking fight.
Artemis Direction: Indeed he did! Though I do agree with Hiro - Davie has certainly taken on a bit of a different attitude lately.
Hiro Suzuki: I guess it must be from Valentine’s training. Looks like he’s not just teaching him technique.
Artemis Direction: It should be interesting to see how it meshes with our new talent!
Kevin Kim: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, accompanied by Ivy Thistledown—hailing from Astoria, South Dakota, weighing 130 pounds: She. Is. THORNE!
The wild and unmistakable guitar riff of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” thunders through the arena as Tessa Thorne flies out of the entry tunnel and on stage. Her energy is contagious—she bounces on stage, waving to the fans, riffing air guitar, apparently hungry to get to the action. When Ivy Thistledown finally catches up to her, Thorne bumps fists with her manager, both of them exploding their hands backwards, and she rushes down the ramp, clapping hands with as much of the screaming audience as she can in a complete circuit around the ring. After she hops up to the apron and rolls under the ropes, Thorne paces in her corner with a wry smile, eyes pinned to the stage.
Artemis Direction: Well! Isn’t she a bundle of energy!
Hiro Suzuki: Did I ever tell you about the time I had to take the hyperactive camera I bought back to the store?
Artemis Direction: No, sweetness, what was the matter with it?
Hiro Suzuki: It just wouldn’t focus!
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
The dramatic sting of “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” kicks in, the lights around the big screen pulse green and gold in time with the beat. The screen shows an overhead view of an industrial district, hanging in mid-air for a moment before diving down to the alleys below to show gritty images of hands being taped up, quick footwork of fighters wearing work boots instead of ring boots, and blood spattering against brick walls.
Kevin Kim: From Astoria, Oregon, weighing in at 190 pounds, the Sidewinder, DAVID O’TOOLE!
Dressed in plain black ring pants without design or decor, black ring boots, and an army green hoodie with a glint of gold on its pocket, David O’Toole steps out of the entrance, pausing for a moment at the top of the ramp to survey the crowd before making his way down, his steps purposeful. He slips between the ropes, pulls off his hoodie to toss it aside, and keeps light on his feet in his corner of the ring.
Del Ramos: I wouldn’t hate it if O’Toole brought some of that hardcore energy to the fight. I get the feeling this Thorne broad can dish it out and be able to take it.
David and Thorne lock eyes. Before the bell, Thorne steps forward and offers her fist to O’Toole. A playful smile creeps across his face and he approaches her to accept.
Artemis Direction: What a fine show of sportsmanship between our competitors!
Just as they touch, the speakers screech with symphonic metal
Del Ramos: I fucking swear to the ninth level if that prick takes this meal off my plate…
All eyes turn to the top of the ramp as Roy Valentine, in a black silk dressing gown and accompanied by his assistant Keller, resolves out of the misty darkness backstage—to a chorus of jeers and booing. Thorne narrows then rolls her eyes, hopping from foot to foot to fill her boredom. Ivy, befuddled, calls over referee Godric Smith, nodding toward Valentine, and Godric can only offer shrugs. David just stares, stoic and perplexed.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like this is a surprise to everybody except Valentine.
Artemis Direction: What on Earth could this be about?
Making his way to the announcement desk, Valentine responds to the disgusted audience with waved hands and blown kisses before plucking away Hiro’s microphone. He claps and, looking to the announcers, points to the house speakers. A perplexed Hiro double-takes between the sound crew and Valentine. Someone shoots him a thumbs-up and he slowly nods to Valentine.
Roy Valentine: Please, excuse my interruption. Ms. Direction, Mx. Ramos—you are both handsome as ever. And, if I may say, Ms. Thorne! You certainly know how to make an entrance. I understand tonight is your introduction to Mr. Afsah’s hallowed halls; far be it from me to overshadow such a monumental occasion, but your debut comes at a most auspicious time. You see, your opponent—my pupil, David O’Toole—and I are currently engaged in… well, one might call it a bet, of sorts. As the star pupil of the Valentine Estate, David has been tasked with a series of in-ring challenges our audience may recognize in hindsight. Tonight, with the blessing of dear Marcus himself, I come to announce an alteration to the following match in the spirit of these challenges.
Artemis Direction: …Oh, dear…
The lights on either side of the stage entrance rotate, flashing white beams in a familiar hypnotic pattern. A sharp whistling sound echoes around the arena.
Hiro’s sharp intake of breath can be heard over his fellow commentator’s mics.
Hiro Suzuki: Oh no...
Roy Valentine: May I present, eager to avenge her unjust removal from the Christmas Rumble at the hands of one slippery Sidewinder: from Bellevue, Washington, weighing 189 pounds, the lovely, the deadly, MARA LANG!
Mara steps through to the top of the ramp. The crowd murmurs in confusion. Thorne, baffled and fired up, loudly joins in her manager’s discussion with Godric, but he seems as lost as the rest of the arena. Panic overcomes the referee as he tries to simultaneously respond to the two people talking at him at once and confirm this unscheduled change with someone—anyone— backstage.
Del looks interested.
Del Ramos: Gotta say the chaos so far is promising.
Meanwhile, Mara has made her graceful, uncanny way to the ring and steps up onto the apron, her gaze leveled at O’Toole as he looks between her, Thorne, and Valentine. He tries to remain stoic, but a complex swirl of emotions runs across the Sidewinder’s face—not quite resignation, not quite panic, not quite fury.
Roy Valentine: Ms. Lang will be assisting Ms. Thorne in Ascended Wrestling’s premiere handicap match. A pinfall achieved by either Ms. Lang or her partner shall count as a victory against the Sidewinder, though he must face—and fell—both foes concurrently.
Artemis scoffs.
Artemis Direction: Now this is just absurd!
Eventually, Godric confirms the match with a resigned nod to Thorne. She rolls her head back, exasperated, and immediately she hops up onto the first turnbuckle to meet Lang—their faces mere inches apart as she glares with all the intensity of an oncoming freight train. Lang merely looks Thorne up and down, sizing her up, and ducks between the ropes to come into the ring, returning her attention to O’Toole. Fuming, Thorne hops down to join her.
Del Ramos: Heh! No love lost between them!
Roy Valentine: Light on your feet, David; your performance reflects on the whole of the Estate tonight.
With a devilish grin, he returns Hiro’s microphone to the announcer’s lap before taking a seat beside the announcement table in a chair apparently procured from nowhere by Keller.
Both Thorne and O’Toole hesitate, but Lang is immediately on the move, circling to David’s left—Thorne tries to follow, but Mara immediately changes direction to circle to his right. O’Toole sidesteps to try and keep both in view for as long as possible, but his usual sidewinding is a little duller than normal around the edges, and Mara easily keeps just behind his shoulder, just in his blindspot.
Del Ramos: Lang taking full advantage of O’Toole’s unpreparedness for this.
She takes a few cursory swipes, just out of reach to land them—but she's not trying to land them; she’s testing O’Toole’s reactions, extracting momentary distraction. At first Thorne still looks conflicted, but she steels herself and takes one of those moments to throw herself forward and catch him in the side with a superkick! He stumbles, and Lang shoves him into the ropes, and as he rebounds she floors him with a clothesline across his throat!
Artemis lets out a hiss of sympathy.
Artemis Direction: I don’t know that our new recruit is comfortable with this arrangement…
Del Ramos: She better get over it or this handicap is gonna turn into a one-on-one again right quick.
Winded, the Sidewinder has just enough wits to roll out of the way of an elbow drop, but immediately Thorne is on his shoulders. She hauls O’Toole just barely to his feet as she stands, then flips him forward in a snapmare! He hangs onto her arms for dear life to drag her down with him—but the effort to defend against Thorne leaves him open to a staggering chop from Mara! Purely on reflex he lashes out to strike back, but Mara drags him up and hurls him into the ropes for Thorne to lay him back out with a lariat. O’Toole does his damndest to keep quick, landing some harsh jabs here and there, just barely holding his own as Lang and Thorne pinball him around the ring, until Mara wrenches him up and over in a vicious snapmare! Lang twists him to one side on the way down, then another to land him hard on his knees—trapping his arms, with her own knee dug into his back, she stretches the Sidewinder painfully upright, leaving him wide open to Thorne.
Hiro Suzuki: This is too much!
Del Ramos: You kidding, Suzuki? This kind of brutality is what makes life worth living.
Godric tries to check in, but O’Toole won’t tap, and Mara won’t let go. Thorne hesitates, but just as she’s coming in for a strike something out of the ring catches her eye—Mara tries to follow, but as she turns she sees Viola Williams vault into the ring, and the two collide! Williams knocks Mara to the side, Lang’s grip loosens just enough for David to throw himself out of the way as Lang and Legacy go rolling out of the ring and land hard on the floor!
Artemis Direction: ‘Legacy’ Viola Williams coming in to even up the odds for her friend, David O’Toole!
Both Thorne and O’Toole look on, astonished, just for a moment before they look to each other. Thorne nods and gestures between them, waving for O’Toole to come at her. He looks relieved, and the two lock up in a furious chain-wrestling tussle. The Ascended Army roars in approval, on its feet as the pair vye for dominance!
Mara lands hard on the floor under Legacy, and she quickly kicks themselves apart, but as she sits up Legacy finds enough speed to pounce on her in a low impressive Lou Thesz press! Williams winds up with several strikes, until Mara snatches her by the wrists and sits them up. Her grip tightens, their eyes locked—Lang curious, Legacy determined but brittle—before she can crack Viola grits her teeth and shoves herself forward to headbutt Lang in the chest, and launches herself to keep up the tussle with Mara.
Artemis Direction: Williams is unwilling to let Lang interfere any longer, Valentine’s challenge be damned!
Del Ramos: Maybe, but Valentine’s the vindictive type. He’s gonna be pissed about this. And if Williams takes out Lang, that’s going to keep O’Toole from meeting Valentine’s challenge.
In the ring proper, Thorne and O’Toole have dug into a proper scrap, trading rather similar dodges and strikes. Davie has the height advantage, but Thorne is far fresher—and when O’Toole’s balance starts to wobble, she vaults off the top rope with a flip, momentarily lands sitting on his shoulders, and hurls herself back to flip him over herself and flat onto his back!
Hiro Suzuki: O’Toole downed with the Night Fury’s Revenge!
She goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, your winner—THORNE!
Thorne is grinning ear to ear as Godric raises her arm in victory. David manages to sit up, just in time to see Williams skirt the edge of the ring and make her exit through the crowd—she turns back to first flash another quick signal to him, then to cast a single-finger salute to Valentine. O’Toole watches her go, but then gets a tap on the shoulder from Thorne, who extends her hand. He looks mildly surprised, but he takes it and she hauls him to his feet. They exchange another fist bump, and Thorne takes another moment to bask in victory.
Artemis Direction: Thorne is certainly conducting herself with admirable sportsmanship!
As O’Toole heads back up the ramp, Valentine quickly follows at his shoulder, already chattering in his ear—the mics they pass catch Valentine wondering, “I thought you didn't need outside interference,” before they disappear backstage.
Hiro Suzuki: Is it just me or is Valentine really sticking close to O’Toole lately?
Del Ramos: Gotta protect his investment, right?
Hiro shudders.
Hiro Suzuki: Jeez, that’s a creepy way to think about it!
Del Ramos: Not as creepy as our next two opponents. And we got Underworld rules for their match, so this is gonna be the highlight of my night.
Artemis Direction: Frater Perdurabo and Mia Rayne had bad blood between each other before Rayne even signed on with the company! Frater’s match against Zephyr Quinn, Mia’s sister, definitely put him on her radar. Then at the Jingle Bell Bash, Perdurabo eliminated Rayne from the Rumble to determine the contender for the Underworld Championship!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, Del, what did the King of the Underworld say when Zeus gave him a gift he didn’t want?
Del Ramos: If you besmirch my dark lords–
Hiro Suzuki: I Hades!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army the following contest is an Underworld Rules match! Introducing first!
The unrelenting introduction of The Heaviest Matter of the Universe” is accompanied by strobes flashing in time with the drums as Frater Perdurabo emerges onto the stage.
Kevin Kim: From Cefalù, Sicily weighing in at 336 pounds, he is Necesse Malum, FRATER PERDURABO!
He wastes no time heading down the ramp and stops once he reaches ringside. He reaches up, takes hold of the rope, and is quickly distracted by the roar of the crowd as Mia Rayne charges down the ramp, her trusty cast-iron skillet in one hand and a fork in the other! With no hesitation she gets a running start and leaps, stabbing Frater’s hand with the fork with all of her might!
Del lets out a cry of glee!
Del Ramos: THAT’S IT! DON’T WASTE A FUCKING SECOND!
Frater lets out a howl of pain as Mia lands and pulls him off the apron, clocking him right under the chin with the cast-iron! Fater stumbles back and Mia hops up on the apron, with a running shot she leaps off at Frater, holding the cast-iron in front of her before punching it with a Superman punch, right into the face of Frater! He goes down to a knee but still isn’t out as Mia rolls to her feet, gets another running start and charges in at Frater!
Hiro Suzuki: What’s it got to take to keep Frater down?!
Artemis Direction: The last we saw, it took the focused efforts of two people! Rayne had better make good use of those weapons and quickly!
Frater catches her by the neck and turns her around quickly before shoving her face first into the closest ring post! This time it’s Mia that takes a knee as Frater picks up the discarded cast-iron. He takes a big swing with it but Mia falls to the ground laughing, and all Frater hits is the ring post! Mia launches herself at the big guys knees colliding with them and taking them both down in a mess of tangled limbs!
Del is laughing with unfettered, gory delight.
Del Ramos: TREAT EACH OTHER LIKE PULL-APART BREAD!
Frater throws Mia off of him and grabs a bag from under the ring. He turns to face Mia with it only for her to dropkick the bag into his face! The contents of the bag cuts Frater’s face deeply and he begins dripping blood as Mia catches her breath. Frater straightens up and again turns to Mia only for her to charge him again! He waits until the last possible second and brings the bag down hard onto the back of Mia’s head forcing her to drop to the ground as the back of her head splits open in a scene of bloody ichor! The Ascended Army is on its feet!
Del is cackling with glee, pounding their fists on the commentary table top.
Del Ramos: KEEP IT FLOWING!
Artemis Direction: Don’t worry about that, darling! I’d say these two are even more thrilled about the color they’ve spilled than you are!
Mia rolls to her back and tries to get her senses about her, but her gaze quickly fills with Frater standing over her emptying the contents of the bag, gusset plates and kenzans, all over Mia! He gets a running start with no hesitation and drops his entire body weight in a senton on top of Mia and the gusset plates and kenzans! Mia’s half screams and half laughs echo throughout the arena as Frater gets up and picks her up with him.
Hiro Suzuki: Rayne in trouble here!
Artemis Direction: I don’t think she’s the only one, darling!
Hiro Suzuki: Anybody else kinda… not okay with the look Frater’s giving our table right now?
Blood is freely pouring from both competitors as Frater picks Mia up and drops her with a chokeslam! He doesn’t let go of her neck though and picks her up again spinning around and driving her through the announce table with a spinning spinebuster, the commentary team diving out of the way at the last moment!
Artemis and Hiro both look frazzled, the pair gaping at the shattered scene before them while Del is all but dancing in the splintered table, roaring their approval. They fish a mic out of the wreckage.
Del Ramos: THIS IS MATCH OF THE YEAR SHIT RIGHT HERE! DON’T FUCKING STOP NOW, YOU BEAUTIFUL MANIACS!
Mia’s laughter is the first noise heard after the shock of going through the table wears off. She looks down at two kenzan that are implanted deep in her chest. With a yelling giggle she yanks them out and quickly imbeds them into the front of Frater’s head! He quickly gets off of Mia and she painfully rolls to her side spitting up blood in the process.
Hiro Suzuki: Are we sure that booking this match was a good idea?! There’s going to be nothing left of the ring if this keeps up!
Del Ramos: THEN WE FIGHT IN THE SMOKING CRATER LEFT BEHIND!
As Frater recovers Mia’s giggles become high pitched and feverish and her movements become jerky as she half crawls, half walks over to the side of the ring. She licks the blood from around her mouth and laughs again as she takes one last look at Frater and then plunges herself under the ring, headfirst! She rolls out with a spool of barbed wire that she’s busy wrapping her fist and arm in.
Del is practically frothing at the mouth in rabid ecstasy, their laughter tearing a jagged rent in the air. Her colleagues glance at one another, then move slightly to the side to afford their bloodthirsty co-worker more room.
With a mighty war cry Mia charges at Frater but he’s ready for her and picks her up in a bear hug and slams her against the ringpost! He quickly grabs the excess barbed wire with one hand and with his other arm pins Mia throat first against the post. With a sick smile he wraps Mia to the post using the barbed wire! Mia can only struggle to free herself as Frater backs up to admire his work before charging in with a massive big boot to the side of her head, The Dark Depths! He isn’t done there as he backs up and does it again, again, and again!
Artemis Direction: Oh now this is just obscene!
Del Ramos: FUCK YEAH IT IS!
He stops and gets close to a motionless Mia and is mildly surprised when she opens her eyes and snickers. The snickers turn into a giggle, which turn to full manic laughter much to the chagrin of Frater! He gets close and is only met with Mia spitting a mixture of blood and phelgm on his cheek!
Hiro Suzuki: Reminds me of a fire spitting onion I met once!
Del Ramos: I SWEAR I WILL BURN YOU ON A PYRE SO HOT NO ASHES WILL BE LEFT!
Hiro Suzuki: It was a rap scallion!
Del’s roar of rage mingles with Frater’s as he locks Mia Rayne in the Mouth of Madness drilling his fists into the sides of the Forsaken Psychotic’s head! Her laughter only gets louder as she locks eyes with him and spits in his face again! In frustration, Frater changes positioning and uses the ring post as half his vice, driving Mia’s forehead into the corner of it with both hands now. Mia’s laughter rings in everyone’s ears and then ever so slowly fades to nothing as her body goes motionless. The ref slides out and yells for Frater to drop the hold as a crew of medical personnel swarm the two to try and cut Mia free from the barbed wire. The bell sounds and Mia’s eyes fly open at the end, her laughter picking back up as she is put on a gurney and strapped down, yelling out.
Mia Rayne: You can’t break the broken Frater! I’ll see you again soon!
Her laughter echoes throughout the arena.
Kevin Kim: Your… ah… winner by submission, Necesse Malum, FRATER PERDURABO!
Del Ramos: MORE BRUISES FOR THE GORE GOD! MORE MEAT FOR THE MEAT FEAST!
Artemis Direction: Now I thought we’d seen some bloody affairs in our ring before, but that was a special kind of savage spectacle!
Hiro Suzuki: We’re going to need another table…
Artemis Direction: Well, while we’re waiting for the replacement and a little… clean up in the ring, I just want to say our next match might not be as bloody as this one has been, but it may very well be a good deal more cruel!
Hiro Suzuki: Thistle definitely be one for the Ascended history books! Roy Valentine and Viola Williams!
Artemis Direction: I think Williams takes issue with what Roy’s been doing to Davie.
Del Ramos: Well, he did make her best friend into an indentured servant, so, y’know, that’s definitely grounds for tearing out his throat with her teeth.
Artemis Direction: It is something that Davie signed up for, but the circumstances were questionable at best, sweetlings. All the same… in his promo… Roy did seem to insinuate that young Mr. O’Toole let slip some of Viola’s weaknesses.
Del Ramos: Betrayal’s the most brutal sin of all. And when it comes from your best friend? There’s literally a special place in Hell for that and it’s at the bottom layer.
Artemis Direction: I must say that the little production Roy put together was quite something! Honestly, though, that kind of thing just makes a girl almost feel straight in comparison! I’m queer as folk, honey bunnies, but am I, ‘Make a shadow play of my enemies being laid low that I narrate while being dramatically lit in my outrageous, maximalist estate’ queer? Keeping up with the Joneses is absolutely exhausting these days, hunties!
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like we’re getting our table back, and it seems like things are set in the ring, Ascended Army!
As the commentary team settles in again, Kevin strides to the center of the ring.
Kevin Kim:The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first!
Rather than the expected quiet introduction of Centuries, a steady bass beat reverberates through the arena as
“Spider in the Roses” pumps through the speakers, and Viola Williams steps out onto the ramp. Gone is the usual wide-eyed wonder of the new-comer, replaced by a smug satisfaction and an assured sense of belonging as she makes her way down to the ring, nodding along to the beat.
Del Ramos: Oh ho ho… my good bitch means business tonight!
Kevin Kim: From Baltimore, Maryland, weighing in at 160 pounds, she is Viola Williams, LEGACY!
She still takes a moment to send a message to her dad as she passes by one of the cameras—a simple ‘I love you’ sign—before she jogs the rest of the way to the ring and rolls under the ropes. She hops to her feet and gives one last appreciative glance at the crowd before leaning into her corner, eyes trained on the ramp.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like Legacy really be-leafs in her ability to prune this rose!
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
Symphonic guitar screeches through the stadium. The screen follows a trail of twisting, thorny vines as they wind over a pitch-black floor to the foot of a marble throne. As the thorns begin to engulf the stone, the camera rises to reveal Roy Valentine lying sideways across the marble seat, legs pitched over its arm. The plants trace a deferential space around Valentine, but utterly consume every inch of bare throne. When the vines finally stop twisting, Valentine snaps his fingers, and the all-encompassing wall of green bursts into bloom, red and gold roses spelling out the name, “ROY VALENTINE”.
Kevin Kim: Hailing from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, weighing in at 219 pounds, he is ROY VALENTINE!
Hiro Suzuki: It’s hard to say who’s going to come out on top in this fight. On the one hand, Viola won the bet she made with Valentine at our last PPV and pinned him in the ring! On the other hand, Valentine was the one to eliminate Williams from the Rumble and take her out of contention for a title shot.
Valentine then makes his entrance in the flesh, strutting on stage under a shower of crimson petals. Alongside him stalk his steel wall of an assistant, Anastasia Keller, metal clipboard in hand, and pupil David O’Toole, hands in his hoodie pockets. Valentine holds a scarlet “Valentine Velvet” rose at his heart which he tosses into the crowd on his way down the ramp, all the while blowing kisses to the disgusted Ascended Army.
Hiro Suzuki: It’s hard to know how O’Toole feels about this arrangement anymore. At first he was adamantly against it, but if he’s been spilling secrets about his friends about their vulnerabilities in the ring…
But instead of stepping into the ring, Valentine flips up the apron to retrieve a chair. He sets it ringside, then, staring at O’Toole, snaps his fingers and points to the seat. O’Toole hesitates, eyes locked with his mentor’s, then begrudgingly sits down. Valentine leans down and curls his fingers around Davie’s shoulder as he whispers into the Sidewinder’s ear.
Artemis Direction: Now what is this nonsense?
Viola doesn’t move from her place against the ring post as she watches, but there’s a shift in her posture: her gaze darkens, her lines harden, her edges sharpen. She lets out a sharp whistle to grab Valentine’s attention and taps her wrist, mouthing ‘I’m waiting.’ Valentine, sneering, waves her off and leans back to Davie. Viola’s lips twitch into a snarl and she reaches into her boot.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey now!
Suddenly a dark, lightning-fast object cracks Valentine in the side of the head. He turns to the ring just in time to meet Viola flying at him with a Tope Suicida! Valentine spills over the barricade! The crowd roars!
Del Ramos: Ha! I told you my bitch meant business tonight!
As Viola dusts herself off, she and Davie share a quick glance. She flashes him an esoteric hand gesture, to which he responds, conflicted, in kind. Viola nods—but something seems to catch Davie’s eye as they turn away from each other. He leans down from his seat to fumble with something on the floor. Meanwhile, Viola steps over the barricade to meet Valentine as he staggers to his feet. Legacy pulls Valentine up by the neck and smashes his face into the barricade: One! Two! Three! Four! The crowd chants along with each strike!
Artemis Direction: This is… a bit excessive on Viola’s part.
Del Ramos: Fuck that! I thought I was done with extreme matches tonight, but it looks like I just got served up another portion of slaughter!
Referee Jill Kincaid calls threats of disqualification at Viola if she and Valentine don’t enter the ring immediately. Viola turns, considers this for a moment, and—cracking Valentine’s face once more for good luck—she tosses Valentine out of the stands, rolls him into the ring, and leaps after him. Valentine wipes blood from his forehead as he tries to find his footing and Viola saunters to her corner.
Artemis Direction: And with that the match has finally started!
Viola bursts into a sprint straight towards her opponent. A heavy lariat catches Valentine in the throat and locks him in the turnbuckle. Viola takes the opportunity to lay into him with a European Uppercut, then pelts Valentine’s chest with repeated right fists, forcing him down to the mat! Kincaid is at Viola’s shoulder instantly to warn her off and threaten disqualification. Legacy backs off at the four count but keeps her eyes leveled at Valentine. Finally given space, he stands and hugs the side ropes, eyes glittering at Viola with icy rage.
Del Ramos: Williams doesn’t give a single fuck! I love it.
Viola rushes Valentine again. At the last second, he dips in a low bridge, and Viola falls over the top rope—but manages to hold on and lands upright on the apron! Viola dodges the rising uppercut from Valentine and retaliates with a headbutt square on Valentine’s nose! He staggers to center ring, woozy from Viola’s vicious offense. She leaps over the ring and drops for the chop block—but misses! Valentine whisks his leg away, then falls on Viola’s back with a powerful elbow drop! He leans over to lock in a crossface before she can escape!
Artemis Direction: Roy Valentine has Viola locked into a submission!
Hiro Suzuki: That’s just a pollen!
But through the haze of pain, Valentine's grip is unsteady. Viola exercises her greater strength and tears Valentine’s grip apart! Using the leverage from Viola’s hands on his wrists, Valentine leans forward, hoists his legs into the air, and drives his knees down into Viola’s ribs! Her grip breaks as the wind goes out of her. Valentine huffs as he kneels and, snarling, drops back down with a double axe handle on Viola’s left shoulder! She grunts in pain!
Artemis lets out a hiss of sympathetic pain.
Artemis Direction: Roy making good on that threat to punish Wiliams’ shoulder!
Locking Viola’s left arm behind her back, Valentine drags his opponent to her feet. A push sends Viola into the ropes, where she spins to face Valentine and, while he steadies himself to catch her, rockets back faster than Valentine can prepare! Valentine barely ducks her incoming lariat and flicks Viola into a hip toss—but her momentum surprises Valentine. He loses footing mid-move, sending Viola hurtling into the referee! Legacy collides into Kincaid and they slam into the turnbuckle together! Both collapse, stunned!
Hiro Suzuki: Oh my God, Jill!
Del Ramos: I’m all for brutality, but you don’t fucking get the ref involved like that.
A satisfied sneer grows on Valentine’s face—and his eyes flit outside of the ring. With Viola and Kincaid out of commission, Valentine rolls under the ropes, flicks up the apron, and pulls another chair from under the ring. Instantly hawk-eyed O'Toole bolts out of his seat to glare at Valentine.
Artemis Direction: It seems Davie is unwilling to let Valentine just do what he wishes with that chair!
Del Ramos: Maybe he’s got some spine left after all.
Mentor and mentee share a tense silence. Valentine snaps his fingers and points Davie back to the seat. Davie, brow furrowed, only stares.
Roy Valentine: One chance, David. Back to your post.
But Davie doesn’t budge an inch.
Furious, Valentine thunders over to his pupil, chair scraping the ringside rubber. He puffs out his chest and scowls venomously—then yelps as he's hoisted into the air! Viola is suddenly back on her feet and spinning Valentine off her shoulders, landing the Hulk Smash on the floor!
Del Ramos: Stupid asshole let himself get distracted! FUCK HIM UP, WILLIAMS!
Viola has gone red with palpable rage. She leaps onto Valentine and traps him in a Bulldog Choke! Valentine gasps for air, clawing at his opponent’s forearms, nails drawing beads of blood, but Viola remains unconcerned! In a last burst of strength, Valentine fights to stand, pulling Viola up and ramming them both against the apron! Viola's left arm takes the brunt of damage and her hold crumbles as she nurses the injury, panic flashing in her wild eyes; Valentine stumbles around the ring clutching his ribs. Davie uses the lull in action to stash away the excess chair.
Del scoffs.
Del Ramos: Playing hero after selling his friend out, huh? Whatever salves his conscience.
As soon as Viola composes herself, she locates Valentine and stomps after him. Coming up behind Valentine, Viola raises her boot to kick him back down—but nobody’s home! Valentine spins around as if expecting Viola, plants a hand on her back, and runs her shoulder-first into the ringpost! Legacy goes down!
Artemis Direction: That shoulder must be in absolute agony at this point!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, what did the cannibal get when he showed up late to the party?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, darling, what?
Hiro Suzuki: A cold shoulder!
There’s a flash across the mat—Keller has slid her thick steel clipboard to Valentine through the ring! Davie notices and rushes to stop the interference, but he’s too late. Valentine has snapped up the clipboard and drives its short edge into Viola’s injured shoulder. Her screams of pain are drowned by the crowd’s show of distaste. Even the crumpled paper signs and drinks thrown at Valentine aren’t enough to stop his vengeful assault!
Artemis Direction: This is too much! Someone needs to get those foreign objects out of the ring!
Not until Davie rounds the corner and yanks the clipboard from Valentine is the floral magnate satisfied. Gazing back at Davie under a face caked with his own blood, Valentine's sadistic grin is nothing less than triumphant.
Del Ramos: Things are looking bad for Legacy.
Though unsteady, Valentine drags Viola to her feet and rolls her into the ring. After pushing her to center mat, Valentine crawls to the slowly recovering referee, shaking her awake. Kincaid brushes him off and rolls upright while Valentine goes for the pin!
ONE! TWO! THR-
Viola transitions to a roll up!
ONE! TWO! THRE-
NO! Valentine kicks out!
Artemis Direction: What an explosive show of determination from both opponents! Neither is willing to go down just yet!
Viola sits clutching her injured shoulder, every vein and muscle in her face clenched in agony and rage. She turns to Valentine, still recovering as his chest heaves, and clocks him square in the jaw with her good hand. Valentine rolls onto his back; Viola clambers over him. Her first fist meets his jaw again, and Valentine’s flailing arms provide no defense from the second as Viola strikes his chin, then his nose, then his forehead, then his nose, then his nose, then blood sprays out and Valentine’s arms go limp—
Del Ramos: Hot damn I never thought I’d get to be part of a broadcast involving a live murder! 2022’s off to a great start.
Kincaid tries to pull Viola off to no avail. Legacy throws the ref aside and continues pummeling Valentine. Kincaid's threats of disqualification find no one home fall on deaf ears; out of options, the ref signals the timekeeper’s table!
Kevin Kim:Ascended Army, as the result of a disqualification, the winner of this match is ROY VALENTINE!
Security arrives in the ring—but even they can’t stop Viola from battering Valentine into a bloody mess! The first officer to grab her receives an elbow in his gut that sends him sprawling to the canvas, and the second flies across the ring with a dislocated shoulder!
Viola raises her hand to strike again. This time, it’s caught. She whirls to throw off whoever’s restraining her—and stops dead when she sees Davie holding her arm.
David O’Toole: Ms. Vi.
Viola wrenches her arm back from him but her assault on the unmoving Valentine ends. Slowly she rises to her feet, all her ire now directed at a new target: David O’Toole.
Viola Williams: Fuck you.
Without so much as a glance at the carnage she’s left behind Viola ducks through the ropes, cradling her left arm and stalking right past Kyle Beckett cresting the security barrier to approach the ring.
Hiro Suzuki: Beckett? What’s he got to do with this?
Kyle takes a detour to grab a microphone then slowly and purposefully climbs into the ring, looming over a bloody Valentine with a smirk.
Kyle Beckett: Damn Gina. You right mate?
He turns to regard Davie and Viola in turn—Viola leans against a wall at the top of the ramp with a curious look, and Davie starts to move between Kyle and Valentine. But just before he can reach out to him Kyle stops him with a raised hand.
Kyle Beckett: Soz, not Soz, cobbers. I’m done taking a back seat to my own future. I’m out here for me, making my own bloody choices and doing what I want to do. And fuck me I want a blue. So for all our sakes Davie mate. Don’t.
Kyle rounds back on Valentine as he rolls onto his side. Valentine manages to prop himself on an elbow, and clarity washes over him when a stoic Kyle kneels down so the two are eye-to-eye.
Kyle Beckett: Out the back your name is spoken with near bloody deference, saying Roy Valentine is so fire. Like you some top shit. Don’t know if anyone told you mate, but regardless of where it is on the totem pole, shit still stinks. And now, now that I’m up, close and personal with you. I ain’t seeing it. So I’ll get straight to the bizzo. No cap I’m gonna take you down a peg. It’s about time someone did, and if you’re half the bloke all these wankers say you are, you’ll meet me in this ring next week. Bye Felicia.
Mic drop. Kyle leaves the ring never once letting his gaze leave the figure of Roy Valentine. He walks straight past a conflicted Davie and laughing Viola without pausing to look at them. Not even once.
Artemis Direction: Talk about chutzpah! Our dear and deadly Culture Clash has laid down the gauntlet! We’ll see if Valentine is willing to pick it up! And now we’re coming up on our main event of the evening!
Del Ramos: Good to get to see King in action again. I’ve missed the big fucker and his special brand of brutality. Shame he’s going to have to look for a new tag partner after he demolishes Leon.
Artemis Direction: Don’t be so sure, dearie. King may be brutal, but Silvio seems to have done the impossible and actually befriended the man.
Hiro Suzuki: You know, a few people have pointed out that LRK behaves differently in the ring when he’s around Leon, and now that they mention it, the change is pretty remarkable.
Artemis Direction: Silvio was the first person to approach King as a person, not an animal. Perhaps that made a deep impression on him.
Del Ramos: Not as deep an impression as Leon is gonna leave on the mat.
Hiro Suzuki: They each seem to think this fight will be an opportunity to get to know each other better. Apparently even though Silvio knows plenty about King’s background, King can’t say the same about Silvio.
Del Ramos: You’re his drag mom, Direction. What gives? Does the goodiest of two shoes have some skeletons in his closet?
Artemis sighs, shaking her head.
Artemis Direction: Nothing so sinister, dear heart. Silvio’s background is simply… well, it isn’t my story to tell, darling, but it’s nothing tawdry or worthy of shame.
Artemis arches a brow.
Artemis Direction: In fact, Silvio may have refrained from telling LRK anything to keep him from killing some people on his behalf.
Hiro Suzuki: It’s good this is going to be a bonding experience, because it sounds like Perdurabo has designs on both of them. I don’t know about you, but the last thing I’d want is Frater after me.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army this is your main event of the evening set for one fall! Introducing first!
The screens display a flickering, static-struck screen with the crowned rat logo, bone-white over a black and red spattered background as the first riffs of "Hail to the King" begin playing; when the first heavy thrums of rhythm guitar in the music strike, the logo shudders and glitches, electricity running through it from left to right like a broken heartbeat. Below the screens the entrance is flooded with rolling fog cast in blood-red light and white strobe lights that match the beat of the song and of the electric shock waves on the screen.
Kevin Kim: From Portland, Oregon, weighing in at 285lbs, he is your Ascended Underworld Champion, the LAB RAT KING!
Where once the Lab Rat King would enter in chains, he now walks freely, his slow and deliberate steps taking him down toward the ring. There's something bestial about the way he moves, like an animated gargoyle; he's accompanied by his wife and valet, Grace King, who seems to keep him from lunging at the jeering crowd with nothing but a hand on his arm and a smirk of her own.
Del Ramos: Sweet Satan’s hooves that’s a big mother fucker.
Once he reaches the ropes, Grace cranes up to give him a kiss on the muzzle, and he moves almost animalistically onto the mat, standing up slowly.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
The lights in the Colosseum go out, the big screen displaying a black and white image of a Ouija board lit by candles and surrounded by scattered tarot cards and raw crystals. A planchette's point moves of its own volition across the name, ‘Silvio Leon’ written in the classic Ouija font as the opening solo of ‘Superstition,’ by Kyle Primus goes careening around the arena. The entrance is bathed in blacklight, a figure moving through it to stand at the top of the ramp, lifting their hands in front of their face to create the shape of a planchette.
Kevin Kim: Now entering the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at 200 pounds, he is your Ascended Wrestling World Champion, the 'Mystifying Oracle,' SILVIO LEON!
At the top of the ramp, Silvio throws down his hands, a pair of white pyros going off on either side of him as the house lights come back up. Making his way to the ring, he interacts heavily with the fans, giving them high fives, fist bumps, and taking selfies as he progresses. He even gives Grace King a fist bump before he does an acrobatic flip over the top rope, landing on the canvas.
Silvio gives LRK a little salute, the big man rumbling darkly with laughter in return.
Silvio and LRK begin to circle each other, Kane’s steps methodical, clearing more space with every stride than Leon’s, causing the Oracle to have to hasten his pace a little. Instead of just letting King gain on him, however, Leon takes advantage of the motion he’s already making, using that speed to baseball slide between King’s legs, popping up behind him! As King starts to turn, Silvio swings up one leg in a spinning heel kick that his opponent catches! Leon swiftly turns it into an enzuigiri, but while Kane rocks backward, he isn’t felled. Scrambling up to his feet again, Leon ascends the nearest turnbuckle before launching himself at King with his Starry Wisdom Tornado DDT that sends his opponent to the mat! Before he can even attempt a cover, however, King is climbing back to his feet, snarling with laughter!
Hiro Suzuki: Uh oh…
Del Ramos: Leon’s bringing out the big guns early, but I don’t think it’s gonna matter much here.
This is something that appears to be occurring to the Oracle, as well, and he barely somersaults out of the way to avoid King seizing hold of him. Springing up again, he uses the middle rope to hurl himself at LRK once more, this time with a springboard crossbody, but the big man manages to catch Silvio!
Artemis Direction: The sheer strength of King!
Del Ramos: Something Leon’s gettin’ real familiar with being on the receiving end right now!
Silvio thrashes using whatever residual momentum he has to throw King off balance, but LRK will not be denied, bringing him down in a brutal rib breaker! Leon lets out a yelp of pain, writhing on the canvas! He sets his teeth and rolls out of the way as the bigger man tries to grab him again.
Artemis Direction: Silvio had better make sure he stays slippery in this match!
Hiro Suzuki: Speaking of slippery, what kind of environment do electric eels prefer?
Del Ramos: Your colon if there was any justice in the world.
Hiro Suzuki: Fresh Watt-er!
Having avoided Kane’s clutches, Silvio tries for a standing moonsault, but as he descends, King seizes one of his legs! Crashing to the canvas, Leon can’t squirm free before LRK has hooked their legs together and locked in the Tranquilizer!
Artemis Direction: Come on, darling! Don’t give up!
Silvio is grimacing in agony, writhing beneath the weight of his opponent who is rumbling lowly at him.
Lab Rat King: Shhhhh… quiet…
Del Ramos: I think we might be seeing the beginning of the end here.
Silvio is doing everything he can not to pass out, the Ascended Army clapping rhythmically as he begins, slowly, agonizingly, to crawl toward the ropes!
Del Ramos: Well would you look at this determined little fucker.
With tremendous effort, Silvio manages to grab the bottom rope, Godric Smith instructing King to break up the hold! Even as he does, however, Silvio is clearly still trying to shake the effects of the Tranquilizer. LRK wastes no time, grabbing his opponent by the throat and hauling him off his feet as he rises. With one tremendous arc, he drives Leon into the canvas with a chokeslam! The Oracle spasms once before LRK makes the pin and Smith slides in for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
TH–
Kick out from Leon!
Artemis Direction: Impressive resilience on Silvio!
Del Ramos: Yeah, but can it match the strength of LRK?
King seems intent on finding out as he rises first, taking Silvio with him. He hurls the World Champ into the turnbuckle then proceeds to lay in with the Rat Cage!
Del cackles happily.
Del Ramos: TENDERIZE HIM, KING!
Silvio slumps against the turnbuckle, arms draped over the top holding him up as he blinks dazedly. King stops his assault, leaving Silvio hung up on the turnbuckle as he backs up a few steps toward the center of the ring. As LRK looks to go in for a Stinger Splash, Silvio sets his teeth, grips the top ropes, and uses them for support as he swings both legs upward to nail King in the chest! Kane lets out a strangled gasp before he collapses onto the canvas. Reaching down deep, Silvio climbs the turnbuckle, the Ascended Army on its feet as he takes to the skies and comes back down with his Color Out of Space finisher!
Smith slides in for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
The crowd has come unglued, and Silvio seems to share their shock!
Hiro Suzuki: Ascended Army, Lab Rat King has just become the first person to kick out of our World Champ’s finishing move!
The Oracle looks at Godric, bewildered, holding up two fingers. Smith only nods and signals to keep going. Silvio doesn’t need encouragement as LRK has begun to stir, starting to climb to his feet again with a low growl. Scrambling upright, Silvio quickly gets some momentum going, bouncing off the ropes and coming back at Kane before he’s completely recovered, taking the big man down with his Miskatonic Twist! King roars as he hits the mat again, and exhibiting the kind of speed wolves inspire in deer, Silvio scrambles up to the top turnbuckle, hurling himself at King in a second Color Out of Space!
Artemis Direction: This has to be it!
Leon connects and goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
Del Ramos: HA! Try all you want, Leon! This ain’t happening!
The Ascended Army has come undone, chants of, ‘FIGHT FOREVER!’ rippling through the arena. Silvio Leon is sitting up again, his eyes wide, breathing ragged, shaking his head in wordless disbelief! LRK is slowly getting to his feet, wobbling a little, but radiating danger. Leon, tired, beaten, and bruised, gets up again, a bit less fluidly now, and attempts a back elbow at the risen Lab Rat King! Sluggish, but undeterred, King grabs that elbow and uses it to yank Silvio in close. The Oracle tries to break free, but soon finds himself slamming into the canvas courtesy of an overhead belly-to-belly suplex! He groans, dazed as he tries to regain his bearings. King is taking a moment himself, evening out his breathing before he slowly begins to get to his feet. Grabbing Silvio by the throat, he hauls him upright off the canvas. The Oracle’s hands immediately go to Kane’s wrist as his feet begin to lift off the ground. Instead of just letting them dangle, however, he lets out a growl of effort, curling himself upward and using Kane’s body like a wall, ‘climbing’ the big man’s torso! Thrown off balance, Kane’s grip loosens enough on Silvio’s throat that he’s able to do a backflip off of the big man’s chest, shoving him to the mat while the Oracle lands on his feet!
Hiro Suzuki: He might have gotten free, but what else can he do at this point?
Hoping the third time’s a charm, Leon makes the climb up the turnbuckles once more, his movements notably more labored than the first two times. Gathering himself, and briefly glancing upward as if to plead for some heavenly intervention, Silvio launches himself at King for a third Color Out of Space!
Exhausted as he connects one more time, Leon goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
Hiro Suzuki: Can nothing keep this guy down?!
Del Ramos: I dunno, you got a spare ceiling to drop on him?
The roof practically comes off the arena as the Ascended Army screams in disbelief! Silvio has dragged himself backward, using the ropes to haul himself upright and gaping at Kane as if he’s a nightmare made flesh. He shakes his head, clearly mouthing, ’What the fuck?’ with a delirious little laugh. Kane starts to surge to his feet with a mighty roar, but falters, taking a knee, swaying dangerously. Silvio actually almost takes a step forward, concern for his tag partner on his face, but Kane shoots him a look that very clearly says, ’Don’t you dare.’ Swaying more precariously, King tries to rise again, but his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses onto the canvas.
Godric Smith kneels beside King and lifts his wrist once…
…twice…
…thrice…
After his hand falls for a third time, Smith calls for the bell, Silvio gaping, jaw hanging open.
Kevin Kim: Your winner by submission, your World Champion and ‘Mystifying Oracle,’ SILVIO LEON!
Silvio allows his hand to be raised, but soon is kneeling beside Kane as the EMTs and medical staff come out to attend to the fallen giant.
Del Ramos: HOLY SHIT I DIDN’T THINK SPARKY HAD IT IN HIM!
Hiro Suzuki: It took three of Silvio’s finishers to put Kane down!
Del Ramos: BUT LRK STILL COULDN’T BE PINNED! That’s my fuckin’ champ. If you want to take him out, you pretty much gotta take his head off.
Hiro Suzuki: Well if you need to do some beheading, you know what they say about the guillotine - decent in theory and amazing in execution!
Del lets out a little snort of laughter, then freezes, looking utterly haunted as Hiro lights up.
Artemis Direction: Well, darlings, it looks like one of my colleagues is about to have an existential crisis! Excuse mother while she takes care of that! See you all on the next edition of Collision!
Credits
Kyle Beckett/Buck Fruckster/Mara Lang segment - Kyle Beckett and Ampersand
Alex Kincaid vs. Hot Dropkick - Mia
Thorne vs. David O’Toole - grace, Aedan, and Legacy
Frater Perdurabo vs. Mia Ryane - Mia
Viola vs Valentine - Legacy and Aedan
Kyle Beckett segment - Kyle Beckett
Everything else - Ampersand
[/font]
Been travelin' in packs that I can't carry anymore
Been waitin' for somebody else to carry me
There's nothin' that's there for me at my door
All the people I know aren't who they used to be
And if I try to change my life one more day
There would be nobody else to save
And I can't change into a person I don't wanna be, so
Been waitin' for somebody else to carry me
There's nothin' that's there for me at my door
All the people I know aren't who they used to be
And if I try to change my life one more day
There would be nobody else to save
And I can't change into a person I don't wanna be, so
The big screen lights up to show Alex Kincaid standing in the middle of the Ascended ring. He smiles, cracking his knuckles, breathing it in and readying to dive once again into the breach. He wouldn’t have it any other way. The image then cuts to Kyle Beckett standing in the entranceway to the stage. His eyes are still irritated from whatever it was Fruckster attacked him with, and he turns to walk to the backstage with purpose. As he does, he passes by Thorne, another new signee, strategizing with her manager, Ivy. The pair quiet as Kyle goes by, though once he’s out of earshot, Ivy’s expression changes and she takes out a little sketch book that has a peculiarly patterned circle in dots and slashes drawn across one page.
Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah
As we continue moving back stage, we see Frater Perdurabo emerging from the shadows. He looks over a poster to promo the upcoming card and smirks at the fighters featured in the main event. His lurking doesn’t go unnoticed by David O’Toole, the spry young man seated in the rafters, observing those moving below. He stiffens a bit as he watches Viola stalking toward the gym. Usually surefooted on precarious terrain, when Valentine comes into view, stops, and looks up to see exactly where Davie huddles in the dim, the young man holds his breath. As the view swings back down, another person can be seen watching Valentine. Taping up his hands for his upcoming fight, the Oracle’s eyes follow the floral magnate as he moves through the backstage area. It’s only when another shadow falls across him that he looks up. Grinning, he extends a hand for Kang King, the Lab Rat King, to shake in a show of good sportsmanship. LRK takes his hand, then proceeds to pull Silvio in as if he’s about to put him into a hold. The pair exchanges a few maneuvers before parting, both of them grinning with anticipation.
I pray for the wicked on the weekend
Mama, can I get another amen?
Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah
Swear to God, I ain't ever gonna repent
Mama, can I get another amen?
Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah!
A few signs stand out among the crowd as we go back to the arena.Mama, can I get another amen?
Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah
Swear to God, I ain't ever gonna repent
Mama, can I get another amen?
Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah!
O’TOOLE TITLE SHOT WHEN?
REBEL GIRL THORNE QUEEN OF MY WORLD
DROWN ME, FRATER!
SAVE THE OZONE! STEAL VALENTINE’S AQUANET!
REBEL GIRL THORNE QUEEN OF MY WORLD
DROWN ME, FRATER!
SAVE THE OZONE! STEAL VALENTINE’S AQUANET!
The camera swings around to the commentary table where Hiro Suzuki, dressed in a navy suit, is seated between Artemis Direction and Del Ramos. Artemis wears a form-fitting black turtleneck that shimmers beneath the house lights, her hair a sleek golden curtain. Del is dressed in shredded jeans and an equally demolished forest green sweater over a black t-shirt.
Hiro Suzuki: Welcome to Collision, Ascended Army! I’m Hiro Suzuki and joining me tonight on commentary are Artemis Direction…
Artemis blows the camera a kiss.
Artemis Direction: Hello, darlings!
Hiro Suzuki: …And Del Ramos!
Del Ramos: I hope you all did your homework and made the necessary blood sacrifices I requested. I’m gonna need a lot of demonic energy to erase Suzuki from this plane of existence, and goat entrails only stay fresh for so long. If I have to freeze them and thaw them out again later, I can’t guarantee the results.
Hiro Suzuki: What?
Del Ramos: What?
Hiro Suzuki: Er… anyway, folks! We have a great show for you tonight!
Del Ramos: Maybe after the first match. Who the Hell let Fruckster and Squat Thrust out of their cages?
Artemis Direction: Fruckster seems to be feeling a bit saucy after what he did to Kyle Beckett on our last Collision.
Hiro Suzuki: He fought alongside Big McLargeHuge in a tag match against the team of Beckett and Williams. Beckett and Williams had some cooperation issues, but things really came to a head when Fruckster threw something into Kyle’s eyes that blinded him! Ultimately, Williams and Beckett prevailed, but apparently whatever Fruckster used was no joke.
Del Ramos: Sounds like you got a lot in common with it, Suzuki.
Artemis Direction: Whatever that nasty business Fruckster used was, it seems to have sidelined our dear Culture Clash for this show.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, that reminds me! What did the far-sighted owl say to its near-sighted trainer?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, sweetling, what?
Hiro Suzuki: ”Who?”
Del growls lowly, hands slowly balling into fists.
Artemis Direction: We have quite the treat for our next bout! A positively delicious piece of eye candy just joined the roster and I, for one, am eager to see him in action!
Del Ramos: Alex Kincaid. I just want to see him wreck shop. Guy’s built like a brick shit house, and he’s got the chops to fuck shit up in the ring. Give me brutality, new blood!
Hiro Suzuki: We have another debut following Kincaid’s! ‘The Sidewinder’ David O’Toole facing off against another new signee, Thorne!
Del Ramos: That Thorne chick seems alright. She reminds me of Logan; another powerful bitch for the roster. Keep ‘em coming.
Artemis Direction: O’Toole has shown himself to be resilient and never one to shy away from a fight no matter who the opponent is. If Thorne wants to win, she’s going to have to be either more clever or more resilient than David, and that’s not going to be easy!
Hiro Suzuki: So far O’Toole’s the only one to get a win over the Lab Rat King! He might have had to have a ceiling collapse on him, but… still counts!
Del Ramos: He’s shown he can take an ass kickin’ and keep on tickin’. I respect that shit.
Artemis sniffs disdainfully.
Artemis Direction: After that we’ll be seeing Frater Perdurabo again. I don’t know why they keep letting that monster onto the premises!
Del Ramos: He ain’t gettin’ off easy. Rayne’s on his dance card tonight, and that carnivorous queen ain’t lettin’ a chance at revenge pass her by.
Artemis Direction: Certainly not, sweetheart! I suspect she’ll be looking to get even not only on behalf of her sister, but herself! Let us not forget the outcome of the Rumble at our Jingle Bell Bash PPV!
Hiro Suzuki: Frater eliminated Rayne from the Rumble, which took her out of contention for an Underworld Championship title shot!
Del Ramos: I don’t give a shit if there’s gold on the line. I need to see Rayne vs. King and soon. Same with King vs. Frater.
Artemis Direction: Perdurabo does seem intent on making that last one happen, darling.
Del Ramos: In the meantime, I’ll settle for this spiteful little bout between Williams and Valentine.
They smirk.
Del Ramos: They both got it in for each other, and it’s gonna be nasty; I can tell.
Artemis Direction: My personal feelings about his conduct aside, I must say that Valentine’s promo was quite the production!
Del Ramos: I don’t think I’ve ever met a more dramatic fucker, and I’ve been in wrestling and heavy metal, so that’s saying something.
Hiro Suzuki: I’d think your quilting circle would have the worst of the drama.
Del Ramos: Nice try, Suzuki. You’re not catching me that easy.
Hiro Suzuki: Just let me be part of your world! I still don’t know if you’re messing with me about the arts and crafts!
Del Ramos: Then I’m doing it right.
Artemis Direction: And then we have our main event of the evening! World Champion versus Underworld Champion!
Del Ramos: This was gonna happen sooner or later. How big of a smear do you think Leon’ll leave on the canvas?
Artemis Direction: Now, don’t be so hasty, Del-icious! My child might not hold a candle to King as far as sheer mass goes, but he knows how to handle larger opponents!
Del Ramos: If you’re talking about his defense against SKUP, he barely squeaked a win out there. That was as much luck as it was skill.
Hiro Suzuki: Even if that’s the case, Leon’s proven he’s capable in the ring, and O’Toole has shown us that King’s not invincible.
Artemis Direction: A thrilling little note to end on, sweetness! But if we’re going to get there, we need to strike up the band!
Del Ramos: Ugh. Let’s get this shit over with so we can get to the good stuff.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army your opening contest is set for one fall! Already in the ring with me is Beef Squat Thrust!
Nature’s foulest beef-based mistake stalks around the ring, cracking his knuckles.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
The cameras go backstage, Buck Fruckster walking through the hallways of the Colosseum preparing himself for his match against Beef Squat Thrust. Buck rounds a corner, straight into the flat, unyielding surface of a steel chair, slamming him right in the face! The Fruckster drops to the floor as The Culture Clash Kyle Beckett stands above him, weapon in hand. The Boy from Aus uses his free hand to grab a handful of Buck’s hair and lifts his head up to look at Kyle as he speaks.
Kyle Beckett: Eye for an Eye you Bloody Wanker. You kept me from competing this week ‘cause of that cheugy shit you threw in my eye. So now I’ll stop you from competing.
A slow deliberate clapping grabs Kyle’s attention. He releases Buck, turning to see Mara Lang watching and smiling appreciatively.
Kyle Beckett: We gonna come a gutser? Cause I’m in the mood for a real blue?
Mara gives a little smile, spreading her hands placatingly.
Mara Lang: Why would I want to do that? I’m merely observing and appreciating your handiwork.
Kyle Beckett: Drongo had it coming.
Mara Lang: Clearly. Taking the initiative, consequences be damned… I imagine there are those who would write it off to the fiery impulses of youth and an overabundance of testosterone, but we know better, don’t we, Kyle?
She takes a few gliding steps toward him.
Mara Lang: This is desperation. You want so badly to be noticed. To be recognised.
Kyle Beckett: Struth. What do you bloody want, besides throwing shade?
Mara shrugs delicately.
Mara Lang: I recognise your struggle and you have my sympathy.
Kyle Beckett: Soz Sheila, but you don’t know me from a bar of soap, so don’t you go trying to read me for filth.
Mara only smiles, green eyes flicking briefly to the side before meeting Kyle’s again.
Mara Lang: You’d best be off before the officials catch you in the act. But a bit of advice. You cannot wait for opportunities. No one will give them to you. Not even those you may consider friends. If you want something, you must be willing to seize it for yourself.
She glances down at the prone form of Fruckster, raising a brow, her lip curling briefly before she looks at Kyle again with a conspiratorial little smile.
Mara Lang: And don’t worry. I won’t tattle.
With that, Mara disappears down a nearby corridor at the sound of approaching footsteps. Kyle takes one look at where the woman was previously standing then back down to Buck. He drops the steel chair then with a scoff, making his own exit from the scene.
Back at the commentary table, Artemis and Hiro are looking disconcerted while Del is cackling happily.
Del Ramos: I take it back - that was a great opening bout!
Artemis Direction: I must say, regardless of Fruckster’s behavior, I didn’t expect Kyle to stoop to that kind of retaliation…
Del scoffs, rolling their eyes.
Del Ramos: Stoop. Fruckster fucked around an found out.
Hiro Suzuki: I think you mean frucked arou– ow! Del! Hey! That’s my foot you’re stomping on!
Del Ramos: Oops. Let me just make sure I know where it is so it doesn’t happen again.
Artemis Direction: I don’t like the idea of Lang getting her hooks into another person. After what she did to Sebastian Hawke…
Del Ramos: Say what you will, but Hawke is holding a title right now, thanks at least partially to that fashy cunt’s bullshit.
Hiro Suzuki: Lang’s ‘treatments’ apparently granted Hawke a greatly increased pain tolerance. It almost certainly came into play during his defense at the Jingle Bell Bash where he took Roy Valentine to Ascended’s first time-out in a thirty minute long match!
Del Ramos: So if Beckett’s looking for a way to get an edge…
Del chuckles, smiling malevolently.
Del Ramos: Maybe Lang’s already got a regimen waiting just for him.
Hiro gives a little shudder, brow knit.
Hiro Suzuki: Can we talk about literally anything else? Like our next match, maybe?
Artemis gives an excited little shimmy of her shoulders.
Artemis Direction: Oooh yes, let’s do Mr. Kincaid is new to Ascended, but not to wrestling! He’s got quite the resume to back up that spectacular... well, darlings let’s face it, everything on him!
Del Ramos: Satan’s horns, you’re thirsty.
Artemis Direction: Sweetness, you simply cannot expect human specimens of this physical quality and presentation to go uncommented upon by mother!
Hiro Suzuki: Say, that reminds me! What do you give someone who hasn’t moved a muscle in a year?
Artemis Direction: What’s that, darling?
Hiro Suzuki: A trophy!
Del Ramos: Did you know it takes 462 muscles to dig a hole deep enough so the cops can never find out what you did?
Hiro Suzuki: Huh! Really?
Del Ramos: Yeah, I can show you after we’re done here tonight.
Kevin Kim: The following match is set for one fall with a thirty minute time limit!
“Delirium" by The Dead South rings out as “Infinite” Alex Kincaid makes his way out onto the stage accompanied by Alyssa Kincaid on his left and Amelia Terrance on his right. He bounces around slightly, getting himself psyched as his eyes lock in on the ring, never straying from Hot Dropkick. Alyssa and Amelia take turns whispering in either ear and he nods before bouncing a few more times and heads down to the ring.
Artemis Direction: The women in Alex Kincaid’s life have reportedly been his stalwart supports and inspirations through the years.
Del Ramos: Looks like he’s not abandoning their good advice any time soon. Smart guy.
DING! DING!
With uncertain confidence, Kincaid gets into the ring, shaking out his arms to get rid of any nerves, he takes a deep breath and steadies himself before his gaze narrows at Hot Dropkick. Referee Godric Smith calls for the bell and “Infinite” Alex Kincaid and Hot Dropkick instantly meet in the middle of the ring and tie up! Hot Dropkick gets the advantage first as he floats around Kincaid and slaps him in the back of the head in a complete show of disrespect! The Ascended Army, jeers in response!
Artemis Direction: Hmm. Is Mr. Kincaid still shaking off the ring rust?
Del Ramos: Looks like his opponent is counting on it. I don’t think Kincaid’s gonna take it lying down, though.
Kincaid’s face turns red and he whips around, slapping Hot Dropkick across the chest with a knife-edge chop! Hot Dropkick stumbles back to the closest corner, which happens to be the one Alyssa Kincaid is standing behind. He looks from Alex to Alyssa and a devious smile crosses his lips as he winks down at Alyssa and whistles at her!
Artemis Direction: Oooh not a wise move on Dropkick’s part…
Alex has seen enough and charges in, hitting Hot Dropkick with a hard clothesline! His face red, Alex isn’t done laying out the punishment as he trades from hard jabs to the chin and more knife-edge chops!
Del lets out a delighted roar.
Del Ramos: SHOW US YOUR BRUTALITY, KINCAID! I WANT TO SEE THE KILLER IN YOU COME OUT TO PLAY!
Alex backs up and gets a running start, looking for a high knee lift, but at the last moment, Dropkick moves out of the way, sending Alex knee first into the corner! This time it’s Hot Dropkick getting a running start and he charges “Infinite” Alex Kincaid. Amelia runs over and yells “clothesline!” at the last possible moment and Alex responds, throwing himself from the corner with an elbow strike that sends Hot Dropkick reeling!
Hiro Suzuki: Kincaid’s crew coming through for him!
“Infinite” Kincaid isn’t done there as he quickly grabs Dropkick by the waistband and pulls him in, setting up a ripcord and delivering a massive ripcord clothesline that turns Hot Dropkick inside out, a move dubbed “The Revolver Lariat!”
Artemis fans herself, shaking her head.
Artemis Direction: Kincaid simply dominating, darlings! I think I might need a divan to faint on!
“Infinite” Alex Kincaid gets himself pumped as The Ascended Army comes to life. Hot Dropkick begins to recover and manages to get to shaky footing before Kincaid grabs him and hoists him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before throwing him off, grabbing Dropkick by the head and delivering a massive cutter, a move deemed The Finishing Touch! Kincaid drops and makes the cover as Smith slides in to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by pinfall, ‘Infinite’ ALEX KINCAID!
The Ascended Army is on its feet, roaring in approval of the newcomer!
Artemis Direction: What a debut from our new signee!
Hiro Suzuki: The guy’s got some chops and he’s not afraid to throw a few, that’s for sure!
Del Ramos: To quote a wise man, ‘Nothing is more badass than treating women with respect.’ If this guy brings that badass attitude with him to the ring, he’s gonna go far. Heh. And speaking of women and badasses…
Artemis Direction: We have another debut in our next match! And what an explosive attitude she has!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, did you hear about the explosion at the clothing store?
Artemis Direction: That sounds like an absolute tragedy, dear heart!
Hiro Suzuki: Oh, yeah. There were many casual tees!
Del is muttering quietly to themself.
Del Ramos: ...Not on company time… not on company time… just wait until you’re off your shift before the homicide happens… nobody wants another sensitivity training course about exsanguination…
Artemis Direction: Thorne showed some real spark in her promo! It’ll be interesting to see her facing off against David O’Toole.
Hiro Suzuki: There’s been something… different lately about O’Toole.
Del Ramos: You mean better? He finally showed his truly vicious side in that fight with King. He might not have walked away with gold, but he did achieve undying, gore-spattered glory with that fucking fight.
Artemis Direction: Indeed he did! Though I do agree with Hiro - Davie has certainly taken on a bit of a different attitude lately.
Hiro Suzuki: I guess it must be from Valentine’s training. Looks like he’s not just teaching him technique.
Artemis Direction: It should be interesting to see how it meshes with our new talent!
Kevin Kim: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, accompanied by Ivy Thistledown—hailing from Astoria, South Dakota, weighing 130 pounds: She. Is. THORNE!
The wild and unmistakable guitar riff of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” thunders through the arena as Tessa Thorne flies out of the entry tunnel and on stage. Her energy is contagious—she bounces on stage, waving to the fans, riffing air guitar, apparently hungry to get to the action. When Ivy Thistledown finally catches up to her, Thorne bumps fists with her manager, both of them exploding their hands backwards, and she rushes down the ramp, clapping hands with as much of the screaming audience as she can in a complete circuit around the ring. After she hops up to the apron and rolls under the ropes, Thorne paces in her corner with a wry smile, eyes pinned to the stage.
Artemis Direction: Well! Isn’t she a bundle of energy!
Hiro Suzuki: Did I ever tell you about the time I had to take the hyperactive camera I bought back to the store?
Artemis Direction: No, sweetness, what was the matter with it?
Hiro Suzuki: It just wouldn’t focus!
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
The dramatic sting of “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” kicks in, the lights around the big screen pulse green and gold in time with the beat. The screen shows an overhead view of an industrial district, hanging in mid-air for a moment before diving down to the alleys below to show gritty images of hands being taped up, quick footwork of fighters wearing work boots instead of ring boots, and blood spattering against brick walls.
Kevin Kim: From Astoria, Oregon, weighing in at 190 pounds, the Sidewinder, DAVID O’TOOLE!
Dressed in plain black ring pants without design or decor, black ring boots, and an army green hoodie with a glint of gold on its pocket, David O’Toole steps out of the entrance, pausing for a moment at the top of the ramp to survey the crowd before making his way down, his steps purposeful. He slips between the ropes, pulls off his hoodie to toss it aside, and keeps light on his feet in his corner of the ring.
Del Ramos: I wouldn’t hate it if O’Toole brought some of that hardcore energy to the fight. I get the feeling this Thorne broad can dish it out and be able to take it.
David and Thorne lock eyes. Before the bell, Thorne steps forward and offers her fist to O’Toole. A playful smile creeps across his face and he approaches her to accept.
Artemis Direction: What a fine show of sportsmanship between our competitors!
Just as they touch, the speakers screech with symphonic metal
Del Ramos: I fucking swear to the ninth level if that prick takes this meal off my plate…
All eyes turn to the top of the ramp as Roy Valentine, in a black silk dressing gown and accompanied by his assistant Keller, resolves out of the misty darkness backstage—to a chorus of jeers and booing. Thorne narrows then rolls her eyes, hopping from foot to foot to fill her boredom. Ivy, befuddled, calls over referee Godric Smith, nodding toward Valentine, and Godric can only offer shrugs. David just stares, stoic and perplexed.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like this is a surprise to everybody except Valentine.
Artemis Direction: What on Earth could this be about?
Making his way to the announcement desk, Valentine responds to the disgusted audience with waved hands and blown kisses before plucking away Hiro’s microphone. He claps and, looking to the announcers, points to the house speakers. A perplexed Hiro double-takes between the sound crew and Valentine. Someone shoots him a thumbs-up and he slowly nods to Valentine.
Roy Valentine: Please, excuse my interruption. Ms. Direction, Mx. Ramos—you are both handsome as ever. And, if I may say, Ms. Thorne! You certainly know how to make an entrance. I understand tonight is your introduction to Mr. Afsah’s hallowed halls; far be it from me to overshadow such a monumental occasion, but your debut comes at a most auspicious time. You see, your opponent—my pupil, David O’Toole—and I are currently engaged in… well, one might call it a bet, of sorts. As the star pupil of the Valentine Estate, David has been tasked with a series of in-ring challenges our audience may recognize in hindsight. Tonight, with the blessing of dear Marcus himself, I come to announce an alteration to the following match in the spirit of these challenges.
Artemis Direction: …Oh, dear…
The lights on either side of the stage entrance rotate, flashing white beams in a familiar hypnotic pattern. A sharp whistling sound echoes around the arena.
Hiro’s sharp intake of breath can be heard over his fellow commentator’s mics.
Hiro Suzuki: Oh no...
Roy Valentine: May I present, eager to avenge her unjust removal from the Christmas Rumble at the hands of one slippery Sidewinder: from Bellevue, Washington, weighing 189 pounds, the lovely, the deadly, MARA LANG!
Mara steps through to the top of the ramp. The crowd murmurs in confusion. Thorne, baffled and fired up, loudly joins in her manager’s discussion with Godric, but he seems as lost as the rest of the arena. Panic overcomes the referee as he tries to simultaneously respond to the two people talking at him at once and confirm this unscheduled change with someone—anyone— backstage.
Del looks interested.
Del Ramos: Gotta say the chaos so far is promising.
Meanwhile, Mara has made her graceful, uncanny way to the ring and steps up onto the apron, her gaze leveled at O’Toole as he looks between her, Thorne, and Valentine. He tries to remain stoic, but a complex swirl of emotions runs across the Sidewinder’s face—not quite resignation, not quite panic, not quite fury.
Roy Valentine: Ms. Lang will be assisting Ms. Thorne in Ascended Wrestling’s premiere handicap match. A pinfall achieved by either Ms. Lang or her partner shall count as a victory against the Sidewinder, though he must face—and fell—both foes concurrently.
Artemis scoffs.
Artemis Direction: Now this is just absurd!
Eventually, Godric confirms the match with a resigned nod to Thorne. She rolls her head back, exasperated, and immediately she hops up onto the first turnbuckle to meet Lang—their faces mere inches apart as she glares with all the intensity of an oncoming freight train. Lang merely looks Thorne up and down, sizing her up, and ducks between the ropes to come into the ring, returning her attention to O’Toole. Fuming, Thorne hops down to join her.
Del Ramos: Heh! No love lost between them!
Roy Valentine: Light on your feet, David; your performance reflects on the whole of the Estate tonight.
With a devilish grin, he returns Hiro’s microphone to the announcer’s lap before taking a seat beside the announcement table in a chair apparently procured from nowhere by Keller.
DING! DING!
Both Thorne and O’Toole hesitate, but Lang is immediately on the move, circling to David’s left—Thorne tries to follow, but Mara immediately changes direction to circle to his right. O’Toole sidesteps to try and keep both in view for as long as possible, but his usual sidewinding is a little duller than normal around the edges, and Mara easily keeps just behind his shoulder, just in his blindspot.
Del Ramos: Lang taking full advantage of O’Toole’s unpreparedness for this.
She takes a few cursory swipes, just out of reach to land them—but she's not trying to land them; she’s testing O’Toole’s reactions, extracting momentary distraction. At first Thorne still looks conflicted, but she steels herself and takes one of those moments to throw herself forward and catch him in the side with a superkick! He stumbles, and Lang shoves him into the ropes, and as he rebounds she floors him with a clothesline across his throat!
Artemis lets out a hiss of sympathy.
Artemis Direction: I don’t know that our new recruit is comfortable with this arrangement…
Del Ramos: She better get over it or this handicap is gonna turn into a one-on-one again right quick.
Winded, the Sidewinder has just enough wits to roll out of the way of an elbow drop, but immediately Thorne is on his shoulders. She hauls O’Toole just barely to his feet as she stands, then flips him forward in a snapmare! He hangs onto her arms for dear life to drag her down with him—but the effort to defend against Thorne leaves him open to a staggering chop from Mara! Purely on reflex he lashes out to strike back, but Mara drags him up and hurls him into the ropes for Thorne to lay him back out with a lariat. O’Toole does his damndest to keep quick, landing some harsh jabs here and there, just barely holding his own as Lang and Thorne pinball him around the ring, until Mara wrenches him up and over in a vicious snapmare! Lang twists him to one side on the way down, then another to land him hard on his knees—trapping his arms, with her own knee dug into his back, she stretches the Sidewinder painfully upright, leaving him wide open to Thorne.
Hiro Suzuki: This is too much!
Del Ramos: You kidding, Suzuki? This kind of brutality is what makes life worth living.
Godric tries to check in, but O’Toole won’t tap, and Mara won’t let go. Thorne hesitates, but just as she’s coming in for a strike something out of the ring catches her eye—Mara tries to follow, but as she turns she sees Viola Williams vault into the ring, and the two collide! Williams knocks Mara to the side, Lang’s grip loosens just enough for David to throw himself out of the way as Lang and Legacy go rolling out of the ring and land hard on the floor!
Artemis Direction: ‘Legacy’ Viola Williams coming in to even up the odds for her friend, David O’Toole!
Both Thorne and O’Toole look on, astonished, just for a moment before they look to each other. Thorne nods and gestures between them, waving for O’Toole to come at her. He looks relieved, and the two lock up in a furious chain-wrestling tussle. The Ascended Army roars in approval, on its feet as the pair vye for dominance!
Mara lands hard on the floor under Legacy, and she quickly kicks themselves apart, but as she sits up Legacy finds enough speed to pounce on her in a low impressive Lou Thesz press! Williams winds up with several strikes, until Mara snatches her by the wrists and sits them up. Her grip tightens, their eyes locked—Lang curious, Legacy determined but brittle—before she can crack Viola grits her teeth and shoves herself forward to headbutt Lang in the chest, and launches herself to keep up the tussle with Mara.
Artemis Direction: Williams is unwilling to let Lang interfere any longer, Valentine’s challenge be damned!
Del Ramos: Maybe, but Valentine’s the vindictive type. He’s gonna be pissed about this. And if Williams takes out Lang, that’s going to keep O’Toole from meeting Valentine’s challenge.
In the ring proper, Thorne and O’Toole have dug into a proper scrap, trading rather similar dodges and strikes. Davie has the height advantage, but Thorne is far fresher—and when O’Toole’s balance starts to wobble, she vaults off the top rope with a flip, momentarily lands sitting on his shoulders, and hurls herself back to flip him over herself and flat onto his back!
Hiro Suzuki: O’Toole downed with the Night Fury’s Revenge!
She goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army, your winner—THORNE!
Thorne is grinning ear to ear as Godric raises her arm in victory. David manages to sit up, just in time to see Williams skirt the edge of the ring and make her exit through the crowd—she turns back to first flash another quick signal to him, then to cast a single-finger salute to Valentine. O’Toole watches her go, but then gets a tap on the shoulder from Thorne, who extends her hand. He looks mildly surprised, but he takes it and she hauls him to his feet. They exchange another fist bump, and Thorne takes another moment to bask in victory.
Artemis Direction: Thorne is certainly conducting herself with admirable sportsmanship!
As O’Toole heads back up the ramp, Valentine quickly follows at his shoulder, already chattering in his ear—the mics they pass catch Valentine wondering, “I thought you didn't need outside interference,” before they disappear backstage.
Hiro Suzuki: Is it just me or is Valentine really sticking close to O’Toole lately?
Del Ramos: Gotta protect his investment, right?
Hiro shudders.
Hiro Suzuki: Jeez, that’s a creepy way to think about it!
Del Ramos: Not as creepy as our next two opponents. And we got Underworld rules for their match, so this is gonna be the highlight of my night.
Artemis Direction: Frater Perdurabo and Mia Rayne had bad blood between each other before Rayne even signed on with the company! Frater’s match against Zephyr Quinn, Mia’s sister, definitely put him on her radar. Then at the Jingle Bell Bash, Perdurabo eliminated Rayne from the Rumble to determine the contender for the Underworld Championship!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, Del, what did the King of the Underworld say when Zeus gave him a gift he didn’t want?
Del Ramos: If you besmirch my dark lords–
Hiro Suzuki: I Hades!
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army the following contest is an Underworld Rules match! Introducing first!
The unrelenting introduction of The Heaviest Matter of the Universe” is accompanied by strobes flashing in time with the drums as Frater Perdurabo emerges onto the stage.
Kevin Kim: From Cefalù, Sicily weighing in at 336 pounds, he is Necesse Malum, FRATER PERDURABO!
He wastes no time heading down the ramp and stops once he reaches ringside. He reaches up, takes hold of the rope, and is quickly distracted by the roar of the crowd as Mia Rayne charges down the ramp, her trusty cast-iron skillet in one hand and a fork in the other! With no hesitation she gets a running start and leaps, stabbing Frater’s hand with the fork with all of her might!
Del lets out a cry of glee!
Del Ramos: THAT’S IT! DON’T WASTE A FUCKING SECOND!
Frater lets out a howl of pain as Mia lands and pulls him off the apron, clocking him right under the chin with the cast-iron! Fater stumbles back and Mia hops up on the apron, with a running shot she leaps off at Frater, holding the cast-iron in front of her before punching it with a Superman punch, right into the face of Frater! He goes down to a knee but still isn’t out as Mia rolls to her feet, gets another running start and charges in at Frater!
Hiro Suzuki: What’s it got to take to keep Frater down?!
Artemis Direction: The last we saw, it took the focused efforts of two people! Rayne had better make good use of those weapons and quickly!
Frater catches her by the neck and turns her around quickly before shoving her face first into the closest ring post! This time it’s Mia that takes a knee as Frater picks up the discarded cast-iron. He takes a big swing with it but Mia falls to the ground laughing, and all Frater hits is the ring post! Mia launches herself at the big guys knees colliding with them and taking them both down in a mess of tangled limbs!
Del is laughing with unfettered, gory delight.
Del Ramos: TREAT EACH OTHER LIKE PULL-APART BREAD!
Frater throws Mia off of him and grabs a bag from under the ring. He turns to face Mia with it only for her to dropkick the bag into his face! The contents of the bag cuts Frater’s face deeply and he begins dripping blood as Mia catches her breath. Frater straightens up and again turns to Mia only for her to charge him again! He waits until the last possible second and brings the bag down hard onto the back of Mia’s head forcing her to drop to the ground as the back of her head splits open in a scene of bloody ichor! The Ascended Army is on its feet!
Del is cackling with glee, pounding their fists on the commentary table top.
Del Ramos: KEEP IT FLOWING!
Artemis Direction: Don’t worry about that, darling! I’d say these two are even more thrilled about the color they’ve spilled than you are!
Mia rolls to her back and tries to get her senses about her, but her gaze quickly fills with Frater standing over her emptying the contents of the bag, gusset plates and kenzans, all over Mia! He gets a running start with no hesitation and drops his entire body weight in a senton on top of Mia and the gusset plates and kenzans! Mia’s half screams and half laughs echo throughout the arena as Frater gets up and picks her up with him.
Hiro Suzuki: Rayne in trouble here!
Artemis Direction: I don’t think she’s the only one, darling!
Hiro Suzuki: Anybody else kinda… not okay with the look Frater’s giving our table right now?
Blood is freely pouring from both competitors as Frater picks Mia up and drops her with a chokeslam! He doesn’t let go of her neck though and picks her up again spinning around and driving her through the announce table with a spinning spinebuster, the commentary team diving out of the way at the last moment!
Artemis and Hiro both look frazzled, the pair gaping at the shattered scene before them while Del is all but dancing in the splintered table, roaring their approval. They fish a mic out of the wreckage.
Del Ramos: THIS IS MATCH OF THE YEAR SHIT RIGHT HERE! DON’T FUCKING STOP NOW, YOU BEAUTIFUL MANIACS!
Mia’s laughter is the first noise heard after the shock of going through the table wears off. She looks down at two kenzan that are implanted deep in her chest. With a yelling giggle she yanks them out and quickly imbeds them into the front of Frater’s head! He quickly gets off of Mia and she painfully rolls to her side spitting up blood in the process.
Hiro Suzuki: Are we sure that booking this match was a good idea?! There’s going to be nothing left of the ring if this keeps up!
Del Ramos: THEN WE FIGHT IN THE SMOKING CRATER LEFT BEHIND!
As Frater recovers Mia’s giggles become high pitched and feverish and her movements become jerky as she half crawls, half walks over to the side of the ring. She licks the blood from around her mouth and laughs again as she takes one last look at Frater and then plunges herself under the ring, headfirst! She rolls out with a spool of barbed wire that she’s busy wrapping her fist and arm in.
Del is practically frothing at the mouth in rabid ecstasy, their laughter tearing a jagged rent in the air. Her colleagues glance at one another, then move slightly to the side to afford their bloodthirsty co-worker more room.
With a mighty war cry Mia charges at Frater but he’s ready for her and picks her up in a bear hug and slams her against the ringpost! He quickly grabs the excess barbed wire with one hand and with his other arm pins Mia throat first against the post. With a sick smile he wraps Mia to the post using the barbed wire! Mia can only struggle to free herself as Frater backs up to admire his work before charging in with a massive big boot to the side of her head, The Dark Depths! He isn’t done there as he backs up and does it again, again, and again!
Artemis Direction: Oh now this is just obscene!
Del Ramos: FUCK YEAH IT IS!
He stops and gets close to a motionless Mia and is mildly surprised when she opens her eyes and snickers. The snickers turn into a giggle, which turn to full manic laughter much to the chagrin of Frater! He gets close and is only met with Mia spitting a mixture of blood and phelgm on his cheek!
Hiro Suzuki: Reminds me of a fire spitting onion I met once!
Del Ramos: I SWEAR I WILL BURN YOU ON A PYRE SO HOT NO ASHES WILL BE LEFT!
Hiro Suzuki: It was a rap scallion!
Del’s roar of rage mingles with Frater’s as he locks Mia Rayne in the Mouth of Madness drilling his fists into the sides of the Forsaken Psychotic’s head! Her laughter only gets louder as she locks eyes with him and spits in his face again! In frustration, Frater changes positioning and uses the ring post as half his vice, driving Mia’s forehead into the corner of it with both hands now. Mia’s laughter rings in everyone’s ears and then ever so slowly fades to nothing as her body goes motionless. The ref slides out and yells for Frater to drop the hold as a crew of medical personnel swarm the two to try and cut Mia free from the barbed wire. The bell sounds and Mia’s eyes fly open at the end, her laughter picking back up as she is put on a gurney and strapped down, yelling out.
Mia Rayne: You can’t break the broken Frater! I’ll see you again soon!
Her laughter echoes throughout the arena.
Kevin Kim: Your… ah… winner by submission, Necesse Malum, FRATER PERDURABO!
Del Ramos: MORE BRUISES FOR THE GORE GOD! MORE MEAT FOR THE MEAT FEAST!
Artemis Direction: Now I thought we’d seen some bloody affairs in our ring before, but that was a special kind of savage spectacle!
Hiro Suzuki: We’re going to need another table…
Artemis Direction: Well, while we’re waiting for the replacement and a little… clean up in the ring, I just want to say our next match might not be as bloody as this one has been, but it may very well be a good deal more cruel!
Hiro Suzuki: Thistle definitely be one for the Ascended history books! Roy Valentine and Viola Williams!
Artemis Direction: I think Williams takes issue with what Roy’s been doing to Davie.
Del Ramos: Well, he did make her best friend into an indentured servant, so, y’know, that’s definitely grounds for tearing out his throat with her teeth.
Artemis Direction: It is something that Davie signed up for, but the circumstances were questionable at best, sweetlings. All the same… in his promo… Roy did seem to insinuate that young Mr. O’Toole let slip some of Viola’s weaknesses.
Del Ramos: Betrayal’s the most brutal sin of all. And when it comes from your best friend? There’s literally a special place in Hell for that and it’s at the bottom layer.
Artemis Direction: I must say that the little production Roy put together was quite something! Honestly, though, that kind of thing just makes a girl almost feel straight in comparison! I’m queer as folk, honey bunnies, but am I, ‘Make a shadow play of my enemies being laid low that I narrate while being dramatically lit in my outrageous, maximalist estate’ queer? Keeping up with the Joneses is absolutely exhausting these days, hunties!
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like we’re getting our table back, and it seems like things are set in the ring, Ascended Army!
As the commentary team settles in again, Kevin strides to the center of the ring.
Kevin Kim:The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first!
Rather than the expected quiet introduction of Centuries, a steady bass beat reverberates through the arena as
“Spider in the Roses” pumps through the speakers, and Viola Williams steps out onto the ramp. Gone is the usual wide-eyed wonder of the new-comer, replaced by a smug satisfaction and an assured sense of belonging as she makes her way down to the ring, nodding along to the beat.
Del Ramos: Oh ho ho… my good bitch means business tonight!
Kevin Kim: From Baltimore, Maryland, weighing in at 160 pounds, she is Viola Williams, LEGACY!
She still takes a moment to send a message to her dad as she passes by one of the cameras—a simple ‘I love you’ sign—before she jogs the rest of the way to the ring and rolls under the ropes. She hops to her feet and gives one last appreciative glance at the crowd before leaning into her corner, eyes trained on the ramp.
Hiro Suzuki: Looks like Legacy really be-leafs in her ability to prune this rose!
Kevin Kim: And her opponent!
Symphonic guitar screeches through the stadium. The screen follows a trail of twisting, thorny vines as they wind over a pitch-black floor to the foot of a marble throne. As the thorns begin to engulf the stone, the camera rises to reveal Roy Valentine lying sideways across the marble seat, legs pitched over its arm. The plants trace a deferential space around Valentine, but utterly consume every inch of bare throne. When the vines finally stop twisting, Valentine snaps his fingers, and the all-encompassing wall of green bursts into bloom, red and gold roses spelling out the name, “ROY VALENTINE”.
Kevin Kim: Hailing from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, weighing in at 219 pounds, he is ROY VALENTINE!
Hiro Suzuki: It’s hard to say who’s going to come out on top in this fight. On the one hand, Viola won the bet she made with Valentine at our last PPV and pinned him in the ring! On the other hand, Valentine was the one to eliminate Williams from the Rumble and take her out of contention for a title shot.
Valentine then makes his entrance in the flesh, strutting on stage under a shower of crimson petals. Alongside him stalk his steel wall of an assistant, Anastasia Keller, metal clipboard in hand, and pupil David O’Toole, hands in his hoodie pockets. Valentine holds a scarlet “Valentine Velvet” rose at his heart which he tosses into the crowd on his way down the ramp, all the while blowing kisses to the disgusted Ascended Army.
Hiro Suzuki: It’s hard to know how O’Toole feels about this arrangement anymore. At first he was adamantly against it, but if he’s been spilling secrets about his friends about their vulnerabilities in the ring…
But instead of stepping into the ring, Valentine flips up the apron to retrieve a chair. He sets it ringside, then, staring at O’Toole, snaps his fingers and points to the seat. O’Toole hesitates, eyes locked with his mentor’s, then begrudgingly sits down. Valentine leans down and curls his fingers around Davie’s shoulder as he whispers into the Sidewinder’s ear.
Artemis Direction: Now what is this nonsense?
Viola doesn’t move from her place against the ring post as she watches, but there’s a shift in her posture: her gaze darkens, her lines harden, her edges sharpen. She lets out a sharp whistle to grab Valentine’s attention and taps her wrist, mouthing ‘I’m waiting.’ Valentine, sneering, waves her off and leans back to Davie. Viola’s lips twitch into a snarl and she reaches into her boot.
Hiro Suzuki: Hey now!
Suddenly a dark, lightning-fast object cracks Valentine in the side of the head. He turns to the ring just in time to meet Viola flying at him with a Tope Suicida! Valentine spills over the barricade! The crowd roars!
Del Ramos: Ha! I told you my bitch meant business tonight!
As Viola dusts herself off, she and Davie share a quick glance. She flashes him an esoteric hand gesture, to which he responds, conflicted, in kind. Viola nods—but something seems to catch Davie’s eye as they turn away from each other. He leans down from his seat to fumble with something on the floor. Meanwhile, Viola steps over the barricade to meet Valentine as he staggers to his feet. Legacy pulls Valentine up by the neck and smashes his face into the barricade: One! Two! Three! Four! The crowd chants along with each strike!
Artemis Direction: This is… a bit excessive on Viola’s part.
Del Ramos: Fuck that! I thought I was done with extreme matches tonight, but it looks like I just got served up another portion of slaughter!
Referee Jill Kincaid calls threats of disqualification at Viola if she and Valentine don’t enter the ring immediately. Viola turns, considers this for a moment, and—cracking Valentine’s face once more for good luck—she tosses Valentine out of the stands, rolls him into the ring, and leaps after him. Valentine wipes blood from his forehead as he tries to find his footing and Viola saunters to her corner.
DING DING!
Artemis Direction: And with that the match has finally started!
Viola bursts into a sprint straight towards her opponent. A heavy lariat catches Valentine in the throat and locks him in the turnbuckle. Viola takes the opportunity to lay into him with a European Uppercut, then pelts Valentine’s chest with repeated right fists, forcing him down to the mat! Kincaid is at Viola’s shoulder instantly to warn her off and threaten disqualification. Legacy backs off at the four count but keeps her eyes leveled at Valentine. Finally given space, he stands and hugs the side ropes, eyes glittering at Viola with icy rage.
Del Ramos: Williams doesn’t give a single fuck! I love it.
Viola rushes Valentine again. At the last second, he dips in a low bridge, and Viola falls over the top rope—but manages to hold on and lands upright on the apron! Viola dodges the rising uppercut from Valentine and retaliates with a headbutt square on Valentine’s nose! He staggers to center ring, woozy from Viola’s vicious offense. She leaps over the ring and drops for the chop block—but misses! Valentine whisks his leg away, then falls on Viola’s back with a powerful elbow drop! He leans over to lock in a crossface before she can escape!
Artemis Direction: Roy Valentine has Viola locked into a submission!
Hiro Suzuki: That’s just a pollen!
But through the haze of pain, Valentine's grip is unsteady. Viola exercises her greater strength and tears Valentine’s grip apart! Using the leverage from Viola’s hands on his wrists, Valentine leans forward, hoists his legs into the air, and drives his knees down into Viola’s ribs! Her grip breaks as the wind goes out of her. Valentine huffs as he kneels and, snarling, drops back down with a double axe handle on Viola’s left shoulder! She grunts in pain!
Artemis lets out a hiss of sympathetic pain.
Artemis Direction: Roy making good on that threat to punish Wiliams’ shoulder!
Locking Viola’s left arm behind her back, Valentine drags his opponent to her feet. A push sends Viola into the ropes, where she spins to face Valentine and, while he steadies himself to catch her, rockets back faster than Valentine can prepare! Valentine barely ducks her incoming lariat and flicks Viola into a hip toss—but her momentum surprises Valentine. He loses footing mid-move, sending Viola hurtling into the referee! Legacy collides into Kincaid and they slam into the turnbuckle together! Both collapse, stunned!
Hiro Suzuki: Oh my God, Jill!
Del Ramos: I’m all for brutality, but you don’t fucking get the ref involved like that.
A satisfied sneer grows on Valentine’s face—and his eyes flit outside of the ring. With Viola and Kincaid out of commission, Valentine rolls under the ropes, flicks up the apron, and pulls another chair from under the ring. Instantly hawk-eyed O'Toole bolts out of his seat to glare at Valentine.
Artemis Direction: It seems Davie is unwilling to let Valentine just do what he wishes with that chair!
Del Ramos: Maybe he’s got some spine left after all.
Mentor and mentee share a tense silence. Valentine snaps his fingers and points Davie back to the seat. Davie, brow furrowed, only stares.
Roy Valentine: One chance, David. Back to your post.
But Davie doesn’t budge an inch.
Furious, Valentine thunders over to his pupil, chair scraping the ringside rubber. He puffs out his chest and scowls venomously—then yelps as he's hoisted into the air! Viola is suddenly back on her feet and spinning Valentine off her shoulders, landing the Hulk Smash on the floor!
Del Ramos: Stupid asshole let himself get distracted! FUCK HIM UP, WILLIAMS!
Viola has gone red with palpable rage. She leaps onto Valentine and traps him in a Bulldog Choke! Valentine gasps for air, clawing at his opponent’s forearms, nails drawing beads of blood, but Viola remains unconcerned! In a last burst of strength, Valentine fights to stand, pulling Viola up and ramming them both against the apron! Viola's left arm takes the brunt of damage and her hold crumbles as she nurses the injury, panic flashing in her wild eyes; Valentine stumbles around the ring clutching his ribs. Davie uses the lull in action to stash away the excess chair.
Del scoffs.
Del Ramos: Playing hero after selling his friend out, huh? Whatever salves his conscience.
As soon as Viola composes herself, she locates Valentine and stomps after him. Coming up behind Valentine, Viola raises her boot to kick him back down—but nobody’s home! Valentine spins around as if expecting Viola, plants a hand on her back, and runs her shoulder-first into the ringpost! Legacy goes down!
Artemis Direction: That shoulder must be in absolute agony at this point!
Hiro Suzuki: Hey, what did the cannibal get when he showed up late to the party?
Artemis Direction: I don’t know, darling, what?
Hiro Suzuki: A cold shoulder!
There’s a flash across the mat—Keller has slid her thick steel clipboard to Valentine through the ring! Davie notices and rushes to stop the interference, but he’s too late. Valentine has snapped up the clipboard and drives its short edge into Viola’s injured shoulder. Her screams of pain are drowned by the crowd’s show of distaste. Even the crumpled paper signs and drinks thrown at Valentine aren’t enough to stop his vengeful assault!
Artemis Direction: This is too much! Someone needs to get those foreign objects out of the ring!
Not until Davie rounds the corner and yanks the clipboard from Valentine is the floral magnate satisfied. Gazing back at Davie under a face caked with his own blood, Valentine's sadistic grin is nothing less than triumphant.
Del Ramos: Things are looking bad for Legacy.
Though unsteady, Valentine drags Viola to her feet and rolls her into the ring. After pushing her to center mat, Valentine crawls to the slowly recovering referee, shaking her awake. Kincaid brushes him off and rolls upright while Valentine goes for the pin!
ONE! TWO! THR-
Viola transitions to a roll up!
ONE! TWO! THRE-
NO! Valentine kicks out!
Artemis Direction: What an explosive show of determination from both opponents! Neither is willing to go down just yet!
Viola sits clutching her injured shoulder, every vein and muscle in her face clenched in agony and rage. She turns to Valentine, still recovering as his chest heaves, and clocks him square in the jaw with her good hand. Valentine rolls onto his back; Viola clambers over him. Her first fist meets his jaw again, and Valentine’s flailing arms provide no defense from the second as Viola strikes his chin, then his nose, then his forehead, then his nose, then his nose, then blood sprays out and Valentine’s arms go limp—
Del Ramos: Hot damn I never thought I’d get to be part of a broadcast involving a live murder! 2022’s off to a great start.
Kincaid tries to pull Viola off to no avail. Legacy throws the ref aside and continues pummeling Valentine. Kincaid's threats of disqualification find no one home fall on deaf ears; out of options, the ref signals the timekeeper’s table!
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim:Ascended Army, as the result of a disqualification, the winner of this match is ROY VALENTINE!
Security arrives in the ring—but even they can’t stop Viola from battering Valentine into a bloody mess! The first officer to grab her receives an elbow in his gut that sends him sprawling to the canvas, and the second flies across the ring with a dislocated shoulder!
DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING!
Viola raises her hand to strike again. This time, it’s caught. She whirls to throw off whoever’s restraining her—and stops dead when she sees Davie holding her arm.
David O’Toole: Ms. Vi.
Viola wrenches her arm back from him but her assault on the unmoving Valentine ends. Slowly she rises to her feet, all her ire now directed at a new target: David O’Toole.
Viola Williams: Fuck you.
Without so much as a glance at the carnage she’s left behind Viola ducks through the ropes, cradling her left arm and stalking right past Kyle Beckett cresting the security barrier to approach the ring.
Hiro Suzuki: Beckett? What’s he got to do with this?
Kyle takes a detour to grab a microphone then slowly and purposefully climbs into the ring, looming over a bloody Valentine with a smirk.
Kyle Beckett: Damn Gina. You right mate?
He turns to regard Davie and Viola in turn—Viola leans against a wall at the top of the ramp with a curious look, and Davie starts to move between Kyle and Valentine. But just before he can reach out to him Kyle stops him with a raised hand.
Kyle Beckett: Soz, not Soz, cobbers. I’m done taking a back seat to my own future. I’m out here for me, making my own bloody choices and doing what I want to do. And fuck me I want a blue. So for all our sakes Davie mate. Don’t.
Kyle rounds back on Valentine as he rolls onto his side. Valentine manages to prop himself on an elbow, and clarity washes over him when a stoic Kyle kneels down so the two are eye-to-eye.
Kyle Beckett: Out the back your name is spoken with near bloody deference, saying Roy Valentine is so fire. Like you some top shit. Don’t know if anyone told you mate, but regardless of where it is on the totem pole, shit still stinks. And now, now that I’m up, close and personal with you. I ain’t seeing it. So I’ll get straight to the bizzo. No cap I’m gonna take you down a peg. It’s about time someone did, and if you’re half the bloke all these wankers say you are, you’ll meet me in this ring next week. Bye Felicia.
Mic drop. Kyle leaves the ring never once letting his gaze leave the figure of Roy Valentine. He walks straight past a conflicted Davie and laughing Viola without pausing to look at them. Not even once.
Artemis Direction: Talk about chutzpah! Our dear and deadly Culture Clash has laid down the gauntlet! We’ll see if Valentine is willing to pick it up! And now we’re coming up on our main event of the evening!
Del Ramos: Good to get to see King in action again. I’ve missed the big fucker and his special brand of brutality. Shame he’s going to have to look for a new tag partner after he demolishes Leon.
Artemis Direction: Don’t be so sure, dearie. King may be brutal, but Silvio seems to have done the impossible and actually befriended the man.
Hiro Suzuki: You know, a few people have pointed out that LRK behaves differently in the ring when he’s around Leon, and now that they mention it, the change is pretty remarkable.
Artemis Direction: Silvio was the first person to approach King as a person, not an animal. Perhaps that made a deep impression on him.
Del Ramos: Not as deep an impression as Leon is gonna leave on the mat.
Hiro Suzuki: They each seem to think this fight will be an opportunity to get to know each other better. Apparently even though Silvio knows plenty about King’s background, King can’t say the same about Silvio.
Del Ramos: You’re his drag mom, Direction. What gives? Does the goodiest of two shoes have some skeletons in his closet?
Artemis sighs, shaking her head.
Artemis Direction: Nothing so sinister, dear heart. Silvio’s background is simply… well, it isn’t my story to tell, darling, but it’s nothing tawdry or worthy of shame.
Artemis arches a brow.
Artemis Direction: In fact, Silvio may have refrained from telling LRK anything to keep him from killing some people on his behalf.
Hiro Suzuki: It’s good this is going to be a bonding experience, because it sounds like Perdurabo has designs on both of them. I don’t know about you, but the last thing I’d want is Frater after me.
Kevin Kim: Ascended Army this is your main event of the evening set for one fall! Introducing first!
The screens display a flickering, static-struck screen with the crowned rat logo, bone-white over a black and red spattered background as the first riffs of "Hail to the King" begin playing; when the first heavy thrums of rhythm guitar in the music strike, the logo shudders and glitches, electricity running through it from left to right like a broken heartbeat. Below the screens the entrance is flooded with rolling fog cast in blood-red light and white strobe lights that match the beat of the song and of the electric shock waves on the screen.
Kevin Kim: From Portland, Oregon, weighing in at 285lbs, he is your Ascended Underworld Champion, the LAB RAT KING!
Where once the Lab Rat King would enter in chains, he now walks freely, his slow and deliberate steps taking him down toward the ring. There's something bestial about the way he moves, like an animated gargoyle; he's accompanied by his wife and valet, Grace King, who seems to keep him from lunging at the jeering crowd with nothing but a hand on his arm and a smirk of her own.
Del Ramos: Sweet Satan’s hooves that’s a big mother fucker.
Once he reaches the ropes, Grace cranes up to give him a kiss on the muzzle, and he moves almost animalistically onto the mat, standing up slowly.
Kevin Kim: And his opponent!
The lights in the Colosseum go out, the big screen displaying a black and white image of a Ouija board lit by candles and surrounded by scattered tarot cards and raw crystals. A planchette's point moves of its own volition across the name, ‘Silvio Leon’ written in the classic Ouija font as the opening solo of ‘Superstition,’ by Kyle Primus goes careening around the arena. The entrance is bathed in blacklight, a figure moving through it to stand at the top of the ramp, lifting their hands in front of their face to create the shape of a planchette.
Kevin Kim: Now entering the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at 200 pounds, he is your Ascended Wrestling World Champion, the 'Mystifying Oracle,' SILVIO LEON!
At the top of the ramp, Silvio throws down his hands, a pair of white pyros going off on either side of him as the house lights come back up. Making his way to the ring, he interacts heavily with the fans, giving them high fives, fist bumps, and taking selfies as he progresses. He even gives Grace King a fist bump before he does an acrobatic flip over the top rope, landing on the canvas.
Silvio gives LRK a little salute, the big man rumbling darkly with laughter in return.
DING! DING!
Silvio and LRK begin to circle each other, Kane’s steps methodical, clearing more space with every stride than Leon’s, causing the Oracle to have to hasten his pace a little. Instead of just letting King gain on him, however, Leon takes advantage of the motion he’s already making, using that speed to baseball slide between King’s legs, popping up behind him! As King starts to turn, Silvio swings up one leg in a spinning heel kick that his opponent catches! Leon swiftly turns it into an enzuigiri, but while Kane rocks backward, he isn’t felled. Scrambling up to his feet again, Leon ascends the nearest turnbuckle before launching himself at King with his Starry Wisdom Tornado DDT that sends his opponent to the mat! Before he can even attempt a cover, however, King is climbing back to his feet, snarling with laughter!
Hiro Suzuki: Uh oh…
Del Ramos: Leon’s bringing out the big guns early, but I don’t think it’s gonna matter much here.
This is something that appears to be occurring to the Oracle, as well, and he barely somersaults out of the way to avoid King seizing hold of him. Springing up again, he uses the middle rope to hurl himself at LRK once more, this time with a springboard crossbody, but the big man manages to catch Silvio!
Artemis Direction: The sheer strength of King!
Del Ramos: Something Leon’s gettin’ real familiar with being on the receiving end right now!
Silvio thrashes using whatever residual momentum he has to throw King off balance, but LRK will not be denied, bringing him down in a brutal rib breaker! Leon lets out a yelp of pain, writhing on the canvas! He sets his teeth and rolls out of the way as the bigger man tries to grab him again.
Artemis Direction: Silvio had better make sure he stays slippery in this match!
Hiro Suzuki: Speaking of slippery, what kind of environment do electric eels prefer?
Del Ramos: Your colon if there was any justice in the world.
Hiro Suzuki: Fresh Watt-er!
Having avoided Kane’s clutches, Silvio tries for a standing moonsault, but as he descends, King seizes one of his legs! Crashing to the canvas, Leon can’t squirm free before LRK has hooked their legs together and locked in the Tranquilizer!
Artemis Direction: Come on, darling! Don’t give up!
Silvio is grimacing in agony, writhing beneath the weight of his opponent who is rumbling lowly at him.
Lab Rat King: Shhhhh… quiet…
Del Ramos: I think we might be seeing the beginning of the end here.
Silvio is doing everything he can not to pass out, the Ascended Army clapping rhythmically as he begins, slowly, agonizingly, to crawl toward the ropes!
Del Ramos: Well would you look at this determined little fucker.
With tremendous effort, Silvio manages to grab the bottom rope, Godric Smith instructing King to break up the hold! Even as he does, however, Silvio is clearly still trying to shake the effects of the Tranquilizer. LRK wastes no time, grabbing his opponent by the throat and hauling him off his feet as he rises. With one tremendous arc, he drives Leon into the canvas with a chokeslam! The Oracle spasms once before LRK makes the pin and Smith slides in for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
TH–
Kick out from Leon!
Artemis Direction: Impressive resilience on Silvio!
Del Ramos: Yeah, but can it match the strength of LRK?
King seems intent on finding out as he rises first, taking Silvio with him. He hurls the World Champ into the turnbuckle then proceeds to lay in with the Rat Cage!
Del cackles happily.
Del Ramos: TENDERIZE HIM, KING!
Silvio slumps against the turnbuckle, arms draped over the top holding him up as he blinks dazedly. King stops his assault, leaving Silvio hung up on the turnbuckle as he backs up a few steps toward the center of the ring. As LRK looks to go in for a Stinger Splash, Silvio sets his teeth, grips the top ropes, and uses them for support as he swings both legs upward to nail King in the chest! Kane lets out a strangled gasp before he collapses onto the canvas. Reaching down deep, Silvio climbs the turnbuckle, the Ascended Army on its feet as he takes to the skies and comes back down with his Color Out of Space finisher!
Smith slides in for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
The crowd has come unglued, and Silvio seems to share their shock!
Hiro Suzuki: Ascended Army, Lab Rat King has just become the first person to kick out of our World Champ’s finishing move!
The Oracle looks at Godric, bewildered, holding up two fingers. Smith only nods and signals to keep going. Silvio doesn’t need encouragement as LRK has begun to stir, starting to climb to his feet again with a low growl. Scrambling upright, Silvio quickly gets some momentum going, bouncing off the ropes and coming back at Kane before he’s completely recovered, taking the big man down with his Miskatonic Twist! King roars as he hits the mat again, and exhibiting the kind of speed wolves inspire in deer, Silvio scrambles up to the top turnbuckle, hurling himself at King in a second Color Out of Space!
Artemis Direction: This has to be it!
Leon connects and goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
Del Ramos: HA! Try all you want, Leon! This ain’t happening!
The Ascended Army has come undone, chants of, ‘FIGHT FOREVER!’ rippling through the arena. Silvio Leon is sitting up again, his eyes wide, breathing ragged, shaking his head in wordless disbelief! LRK is slowly getting to his feet, wobbling a little, but radiating danger. Leon, tired, beaten, and bruised, gets up again, a bit less fluidly now, and attempts a back elbow at the risen Lab Rat King! Sluggish, but undeterred, King grabs that elbow and uses it to yank Silvio in close. The Oracle tries to break free, but soon finds himself slamming into the canvas courtesy of an overhead belly-to-belly suplex! He groans, dazed as he tries to regain his bearings. King is taking a moment himself, evening out his breathing before he slowly begins to get to his feet. Grabbing Silvio by the throat, he hauls him upright off the canvas. The Oracle’s hands immediately go to Kane’s wrist as his feet begin to lift off the ground. Instead of just letting them dangle, however, he lets out a growl of effort, curling himself upward and using Kane’s body like a wall, ‘climbing’ the big man’s torso! Thrown off balance, Kane’s grip loosens enough on Silvio’s throat that he’s able to do a backflip off of the big man’s chest, shoving him to the mat while the Oracle lands on his feet!
Hiro Suzuki: He might have gotten free, but what else can he do at this point?
Hoping the third time’s a charm, Leon makes the climb up the turnbuckles once more, his movements notably more labored than the first two times. Gathering himself, and briefly glancing upward as if to plead for some heavenly intervention, Silvio launches himself at King for a third Color Out of Space!
Exhausted as he connects one more time, Leon goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Kick out from King!
Hiro Suzuki: Can nothing keep this guy down?!
Del Ramos: I dunno, you got a spare ceiling to drop on him?
The roof practically comes off the arena as the Ascended Army screams in disbelief! Silvio has dragged himself backward, using the ropes to haul himself upright and gaping at Kane as if he’s a nightmare made flesh. He shakes his head, clearly mouthing, ’What the fuck?’ with a delirious little laugh. Kane starts to surge to his feet with a mighty roar, but falters, taking a knee, swaying dangerously. Silvio actually almost takes a step forward, concern for his tag partner on his face, but Kane shoots him a look that very clearly says, ’Don’t you dare.’ Swaying more precariously, King tries to rise again, but his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses onto the canvas.
Godric Smith kneels beside King and lifts his wrist once…
…twice…
…thrice…
After his hand falls for a third time, Smith calls for the bell, Silvio gaping, jaw hanging open.
DING! DING! DING!
Kevin Kim: Your winner by submission, your World Champion and ‘Mystifying Oracle,’ SILVIO LEON!
Silvio allows his hand to be raised, but soon is kneeling beside Kane as the EMTs and medical staff come out to attend to the fallen giant.
Del Ramos: HOLY SHIT I DIDN’T THINK SPARKY HAD IT IN HIM!
Hiro Suzuki: It took three of Silvio’s finishers to put Kane down!
Del Ramos: BUT LRK STILL COULDN’T BE PINNED! That’s my fuckin’ champ. If you want to take him out, you pretty much gotta take his head off.
Hiro Suzuki: Well if you need to do some beheading, you know what they say about the guillotine - decent in theory and amazing in execution!
Del lets out a little snort of laughter, then freezes, looking utterly haunted as Hiro lights up.
Artemis Direction: Well, darlings, it looks like one of my colleagues is about to have an existential crisis! Excuse mother while she takes care of that! See you all on the next edition of Collision!
Credits
Kyle Beckett/Buck Fruckster/Mara Lang segment - Kyle Beckett and Ampersand
Alex Kincaid vs. Hot Dropkick - Mia
Thorne vs. David O’Toole - grace, Aedan, and Legacy
Frater Perdurabo vs. Mia Ryane - Mia
Viola vs Valentine - Legacy and Aedan
Kyle Beckett segment - Kyle Beckett
Everything else - Ampersand
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