PWW Outburst 2008 (July 27, 2008) [Partial Results only; posted as originally written]

[Dean]

Pro Wrestling Warriors presents:

Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Venue: Daskalakis Athletic Center
Attendance: 2,300 (sellout)
Date: July 27, 2008

A dazzling pyrotechnic display opens the show… because, why the f*ck not? We’re going out of business anyway, right? Might as well waste a few thousand dollars on the explosions. The song “The Day That Never Comes” by Metallica plays, which is fitting since many thought the day that Outburst would be posted would never come. The fans in the arena are a bit quieter than normal, as everybody knows this is the next to last PWW show EVAR. So after the pyros open the show up, we go to the ringside for the usual commentary duo, Scott “The Scoop” and “Slick” Rick Avalio.

Scott the Scoop:
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to level with you. This isn’t the usual PWW wrestling show. I don’t know, deep down inside… I just can’t believe it’s almost over. We had a hell of a run – over two years. There were good times, and bad times, but there was always great wrestling. But I just… I don’t know… Rick… I’m going to really miss this place, and all these fans, and the wrestling… It will never be the same.

Slick Rick:
Hey… buck up, Scott. Big guy… How you doin’? Holdin’ up alright? You want a soooda?

Scott doesn’t pay Rick any mind, and Avalio gets frustrated.

Slick Rick:
Oh screw it, I tried! Anyway, folks, we are nearing the curtain call for PWW. Tonight, we are putting forth several great matches. From top to bottom, it’s quite a show. We’re going out with a bang, and while I know I didn’t always see eye to eye with my colleagues, with the office, with the fans, with my girlfriend, with my neighbors, or with just about anybody… because everybody sucks compared to me… I just want you all to know… That… I totally called this two years ago and made like, $400,000 betting on when PWW would die.

Scott the Scoop:
Well… that was unexpected. Anyway, fans, I’m going to try to cheer up here. We really do have quite the show, and I know these 2,000 fans didn’t show up expecting anything less than the finest wrestling we can give them, and that’s what we plan to deliver. The first match on the card is going to kick start things right – It’s the culmination of two men’s desire for pain and vengeance. It’s Clockwork Orange House of Fun, but let me tell you folks… this will be the farthest thing from fun.

Slick Rick:
I don’t know, Scott. With all these fans lusting for violence, they’ll probably be on the edge of their seats, whipping out their members and just jerking it in one big violence-induced orgy.

Scott the Scoop:
…Thank you for that stunning visual.

Tommy Riggs vs. Kahn
A Clockwork Orange House of Fun Match
Written by Joe

Both men enter the cage full of weapons, hanging from the cage or laying around, and appear to be truly at home in this environment. They want to end their rivalry once and for all and I, personally, can think of few better settings to do so than what we have here before us. Riggs and Kahn storm the center of the ring as the bell sounds and they lock horns. Kahn and Riggs start to struggle around the ring now, each man being very powerful but Kahn obviously more so. Kahn sends Riggs into the corner and begins to chop him in excess of three times! He then switches up and begins to ram his shoulder into the ribs of Riggs. Kahn pulls Riggs out of corner and folds him down. He's looking for a powerbomb! But Riggs is holding on and won't let himself be pulled upward. Kahn unloads a series of stiff clubbing forearms to the back of Riggs and tries once more, but Riggs still will not allow himself to be powerbombed. Finally Kahn just gives it up and runs off the ropes.

Kahn comes back and nails a big boot right to the face of "The Devil's Reject"! Riggs, though, just stumbles back and off the ropes and comes back with a Lariat right under the jaw of Kahn! Kahn is wobbled by that and Riggs follows it up with a series of knife edged chops! Kahn is backed into the corner now. Riggs goes over and grabs a steel chair from the cage wall and then jams the top of it into the ribs of Kahn very harshly. Kahn holds himself up on the ropes from falling in pain and sends a kick to the gut of Riggs. Riggs stumbles around but comes right back with another chair shot, this one to the spine! Riggs throws the chair onto the ground and goes to a different cage wall and grabs a trashcan! Riggs jogs over and attempts to smash the trashcan over Kahn's head, but Kahn does another overhead chop and smashes the trashcan right onto of Riggs head! Riggs stumbles around, still holding the trash can, and Kahn big boots the trashcan and sends Riggs falling backwards onto the chair on the ground! Kahn goes for the cover, but only a two count!

Kahn picks up Riggs off the mat and scoops him up to the side and drops him on the trash can with a sidewalk slam! He attempts to cover him again, but still only a two count. Kahn picks up Riggs and clubs him to the back with a forearm, but to his surprise, Riggs answers back with three crisp elbows to the jaw and then a kick to the gut. Riggs delivers a DDT right onto the chair in the middle of the ring! Riggs attempts to cover Kahn, but barely a two count follows. Riggs goes over to the cage wall and grabs a spool of barbed wire! Riggs climbs up to the top rope and wraps the barbed wire around his right arm and then flies off the top rope, connecting with a flying clothesline! That got the fans all riled up! Riggs attempts to get the pinfall once more, but only a two count. Riggs drops a couple of barbed wire wrapped elbows onto Kahn before unwrapping his arm, which looks to be in quite a bit of pain, and then he attempts to cover Kahn again, but still only a two count from the referee. He has to think up something more.

Riggs stomps and taunts Kahn until he gets up and then runs off the ropes, looking to Yakuza kick Kahn, but Kahn catches his boot! Kahn then pulls him in and flattens him with a big clothesline! Riggs is hurt after that, but manages to get himself back up to his feet. Kahn sends a right boot into the gut of Riggs and then pulls him in once more, doubled over, looking for the powerbomb. Riggs puts up a fight, but Kahn gets him up! Kahn sheer drops him hard with the Sit-out Powerbomb and hangs on! Yes, he's got it! Kahn wins the match! He finds a way to put this monster down!

Winner via Pinfall: Kahn

Several of the fans in the front rows appear to be covered with blood from these two beasts. Like Behemoth versus Leviathan, this unholy war has wrought havoc and caused destruction, leaving debris that several ring attendants must scramble to clean up.

Scott the Scoop:
What a way to kick off the show! Weapons and bodies have been broken! Rick… I was wrong to be depressed during this show. This is going to be a great way to write the final chapter.

Slick Rick:
I told you, Scotty. You were over there, “Wah! Wah! We have to leave!” Buck up, you fruitcake. Tonight’s going to be one big party, and fortunately for you, there’s no VIP list. Everybody gets in… Otherwise, how do you explain that fat toothless bastard in the crowd behind us?

Scott the Scoop:
I’d be careful, Rick. He’s bulging with what could be muscle!

Slick Rick:
It’s okay. I hear Jimbo the Janitor is in charge of security tonight.

Scott the Scoop:
I feel safer already. Well fans, we got kicked off with some extreme action between two of the juggernauts of PWW, but up next, we have a high flying, technical affair with three of the top Freestyle competitors. What do you get when you cross a drunken Irishman, Militant Muslim, and Cocky Sumbitch?

Slick Rick:
Hold on… I think I know this one. Rusty Trombone?

Scott the Scoop:
…What? That-That’s not even a drink; that’s a—Oh, god… anyway, no, you get a spectacular match. Dirty mind.

Rohan Malhotra versus Tristan Novak versus Johnny Reed
Three Way Dance
Written by Dave

This one starts off with all three men in their respective corners, each one trying to decide what a good game plan is. They come to the center of the ring and feel each other out a bit, before Reed and Malhotra look at each other and nod, then rush Novak and start trying to put the beatdown on him. Novak is able to fight of the two at first, but eventually the numbers game is too much as Novak is beaten into the corner, where Reed and Malhotra take turns putting the boots to him. The duo lifts up Novak, and gives him a double suplex. Rohan picks up Novak and holds him in place for Reed to give him a few punches and a very disrespectful slap to the face. The duo shoots Novak into the ropes and look to give him a double clothesline, but Novak ducks the move, and is able to use his momentum to give Reed and Malhotra a clothesline of his own, sending both men up and over the top rope to the floor.

Novak takes a moment to think, before running off the ropes, and executes a picture perfect swan dive on both Reed and Rohan! Novak grabs The Minority Militant and tosses him in the ring. Novak wastes no time as he gets in the ring and almost breaks Rohan’s back with a nasty looking snap backbreaker. Novak picks up Rohan and sends him in to the far corner and then backs up to the opposite corner and yells out “Irish Airborne!” as the fans yell along with him, before charging the corner and giving Rohan a Monkey Flip which sends him flying almost all the way across the ring!

Novak grabs Malhotra by the head and gives him a few hard punches to the jaw, then sends Rohan into the ropes, but Rohan somehow has the presence of mind to stop himself, and when Novak charges, Rohan makes Tristan eat some boot. Novak staggers back to the center of the ring, and Rohan seizes the moment and levels Novak with a clothesline. Rohan picks him up and almost breaks Novak’s damn jaw with a flapjack into a stiff shin kick, a move he calls The Alarm Clock.

Rohan goes for the cover….1….2….NO! Johnny Reed made his way back into the ring and broke up the count. Rohan can’t believe what just happened.

“What the hell white boy, I thought we we’re working together?”

“We were. But I’m going to be the one to pin this drunk Irish bastard!”

“Oh is that right?!”

Rohan shoves Reed

“Yeah, that’s right!”

Reed shoves Rohan in return, and the two start exchanging fists. Johnny gets the better of the exchange and sends Rohan bouncing off the ropes, and stops him with a hurricanrana. Reed follows through with the Rana and locks on a dragon sleeper. Rohan is trying to find a way to escape and he does as he somehow is able to kick Reed in the head, forcing him to break the hold. Rohan makes his way to his feet first and makes sure that Reed doesn’t as he gives him a Shining Wizard and then violently stomps him in the chest and head.

Rohan mocks Reed and slaps him a few times in the head before turning Reed on his stomach and mounting him…not like that! Rohan gives a throat slash and then hits Reed with some brutal Crossface Strikes. Malhotra gives Reed some space, and when he gets to his feet hits him with the GamenFURY, which lays Reed out! Rohan goes for the cover…

One….two….Thre….NO!!!

This time it’s Novak interrupting the pin with the Shadows over Hell. Novak wants Reed, or Malhotra, probably both. Novak takes Rohan over to the corner and chops him hard in the chest. Reed, who has just now recovered runs over and pulls Novak off of Rohan as Reed chops Rohan’s chest. Novak, not to be outdone gives Rohan another chop, one that echo’s throughout the arena. Reed smirks at Novak as Reed gives Rohan another chop, probably the hardest one so far. Rohan’s chest is bright red now as Reed pulls Rohan out of the corner and shoots him off the rope and gives him a drop toe hold as Rohan lands on the middle rope. Novak runs the ropes and connects with The Irish Ale-ment. Rohan is thrown back to the middle of the ring and is on his back. Novak is waiting for Rohan to get up so the he can hit the Veni, Vidi, Vici, but before Rohan can get up, Reed takes advantage of it and hits the News Maker on Rohan.

Rohan Malhotra has been eliminated.

Novak stands on the apron in bewilderment, as Reed just stole the elimination from him. Reed rolls Rohan out of the ring and is taunting him as he makes his way to the back, when Novak comes up behind him and attempts a backdrop. Reed, however is able to land on his feet, and as soon as he does he hooks Novak’s arms and puts him in position for The Press Release!

Reed goes for the cover….one….two….NOPE, NOT TODAY!!!

Novak somehow was able to kick out, and it pissed Reed off. Reed picks up Novak and carries him to the corner, and then Reed sits on the top turnbuckle.

“I’m going to break your f*cking neck!”

Reed attempts a Powerbomb from the top rope, but Novak is able to counter into the Heinekenrana. Novak goes for the win, but is only able to get a two count, because somehow Reed was able to kick out.

Both men are starting to show some signs of wearing down as neither man is able to get up at first. Reed makes it up first, and he sees that Novak is down. Reed picks up Novak and then springboards off the ropes hitting an Asai DDT which he calls “Stop the Presses” Reed could have had the win there, but he decides that he’s not done yet. Reed throws Novak into the corner and hits a clothesline on Novak. He then sits Novak on the top rope, and then climbs onto the second rope as he looks to deliver a Superplex, but Novak is able to block the move and eventually pushes Reed off the second rope.

Reed landed awkwardly on his leg when he came off the rope, and he’s bent over to examine the knee, which turns out to be a costly mistake. Novak jumps off the second rope, lands with Reed’s head between his legs, and connects with The Dublin Destroyer. It’s all academic from here as Tristan Novak has won this hard fought contest.

Winner via Pinfall: Tristan Novak.

Novak is celebrating after the match for a few minuets as Reed lays there. Reed slowly makes his way to his feet and sees Novak standing over him. Novak smirks at Reed and extends a hand to “The Big F’n Story”. Reed looks a little confused at first, but eventually accepts the sign of goodwill. Novak pats Reed on the face a few times and then walks out, however Reed lets Novak know that he’s number one. But of course, Novak didn’t see that, Reed’s not that dumb.

Slick Rick:
Johnny Reed was destined for bigger things, Scott. I hope to see his career flourish elsewhere.

Scott the Scoop:
Yeah, it’s a real shame that so many of these young talented wrestlers are going to be out of work.

Slick Rick:
Of course, it seems like a lot of these guys are used to it. We got a couple tag teams up next who’ve been everywhere, vying for the tag team championships.

Scott the Scoop:
R-Squared and The Lindens have had a legitimate, personal hatred for one another for many years. Tonight will be the final chapter in the book of their rivalry. Who will get the last laugh, and the icing on the cake: The PWW World Tag Team Championships?

R-Squared (Razor & Red X) © versus The Lindens (Bradley & Eric)
Tag Team Titles
Written by Joe

The Lindens and R-Squared are in the ring and this is for the titles, folks! The fans in the arena are psyched up for this match and we get underway with Bradley and Red X starting things off. Bradley comes forward hard and catches Red with a knee to the gut and then grabs him into a Gutwrench Throw! Bradley is all fired up tonight! Red is back up and runs off the ropes, ducking under an attempted clothesline by Bradley, and then jumps and springboards off the middle rope and attempts a crossbody, but Bradley catches him! Bradley throws Red up into the Gorilla Press and then brings him down hard with a Powerslam! Bradley attempts the cover, but Razor jumps on in and drops an elbow to break it up.

Eric tries to jump in and get involved, but the referee rushes over and puts a shoulder into him and holds him back... oh, not for long! Eric shoves the referee out of the way and rushes over and catches Razor in his corner with a Big Boot! Bradley and Eric then grab Red by his arms and whip him off the ropes... they throw him up, looking for a huge double flapjack, but Red reverses it by nailing a HUGE Double Dropkick! Both Bradley and Eric fall down on that one. Razor slides in and he and Red whip Bradley off the ropes and deliver a big Double Wheel Kick! Red attempts to cover, but Bradley powers out.

Bradley gets up to his feet and Red attempts to hit him with a Superkick, but Bradley bats it away and grabs him by the throat with both hands, delivering the Lit Fuse! Bradley attempts to cover, but Red manages to kick out. Bradley goes and tags in Eric. Eric comes in and whips Red X off the ropes and delivers a big Belly-to-Belly suplex. Eric picks up Red and Spinning Sidewalk Slam and attempts to cover, but once again only a two count. Red is running out of steam here, as he's been brutalized by these damn Lindens.

Eric picks up Red once again and grabs him into the Powerbomb position, but as he lifts him, Red floats over Eric's head and drops behind him, grabbing him into a shocking Sunset Flip! The referee counts to two before Eric kicks out. Red crawls and leaps forward and makes the hot tag to Razor, who springboards in and catches Eric with an amazing FLATLINE variation! The fans are going wild! Razor attempts to cover, but Bradley rushes in and stomps the back of his head to break it up.

Red X gets in and starts to punch Bradley rapidly and Razor joins in and they pull him into the center of the ring. They do roundhouse kicks to his front and back and then deliver a big time Total Elimination! Eric is back up, though, and he catches both men with double Midwestern Lariats! Eric picks up Red X and tosses him over the top rope and then kicks Razor in the gut. Dark Star Driver! Eric hangs on and gets the pinfall victory!

Winners via Pinfall and NEW PWW World Tag Team Champions: The Lindens

What a shock! The Lindens have defeated R2​ to get the last laugh over their longtime rivals. The fans are booing angrily as Eric and Brad rejoice in the middle of the ring. Chris Linden must be happy as well, but he’s not seen, obviously preparing for his Freestyle Title bout tonight.

Scott the Scoop:
The Lindens have gained the ultimate revenge over R-Squared! Not only did they pin their shoulders to the canvas – one, two, three – but they wrested the titles away from them.

Slick Rick:
You sound a bit surprised, Scott. Everybody knows that R-Squared have been running scared of the Lindens for years!

Scott the Scoop:
Well, speaking of running scared, Dante Priest has been in AJ Cross’ head for the last few months. Tonight, we’re going to see the two men battle in a fight without honor. There are no rules, and the winner will be declared by pinfall or submission.

Slick Rick:
I hear AJ Cross already picked out his tombstone… Is it too late to get in his will?

Dante Priest versus AJ Cross
Fight Without Honor
Written by Jay

As the bell rings, the referee smartly clears the ring with great haste and allows these two competitors to stare each other down. AJ Cross is going to have to dig down into the depths of himself in order to bring out a sadistic streak capable of matching Dante Priest's. However, before he does that, he tries to take Priest out of his game by shooting a sly smirk at him. Dante sneers in disapproval before rushing forward at Cross and forcing him into the corner with quick shots. Priest removes his long coat before wrapping it around AJ's neck and choking him. He drags Cross out of the corner and goes for a big lariat, but AJ ducks under it. He takes Priest's coat and throws it in his face before leaping up and nailing him with a big enziguri. Priest falls backward through the ropes and lands on the outside of the ring. Cross now perches himself across the ring and waits for Priest to get up. Unbeknownst to Cross, Priest has his hand under the ring apron and is searching for something. AJ bounces off the ropes and sprints towards Priest. He goes for a suicide dive... but gets caught with a shot from a lead pipe! Priest smiles evilly as Cross is draped across the middle rope and holding his head in pain.

Dante quickly jumps up to the ring apron before hopping back down to the mat, bringing the pipe down against the back of AJ's head. Cross falls back into the ring as Priest crawls back in after him. Cross tries to get to his feet, but Priest stays on him and begins choking him out with the pipe. Dante soon tosses the weapon away before lifting Cross up and sending him to the ropes. Priest nails AJ with a tilt-a-whirl slam on the way back and goes for the cover... but pulls him up before the referee even begins the count. The Dark Cleric is looking to do damage. Priest pulls AJ to his feet and nonchalantly tosses him through the ropes to the outside. AJ crawls over to the barricade and tries to pull himself up as Priest slides out of the ring. Dante measures his opponent and rushes forward for a yakuza kick, but AJ dodges out of the way just in time. Priest gets crotched on the barricade and struggles to get off, but AJ isn't looking to let up. He climbs the apron... then climbs to the top rope. Cross flies off and crashes into Priest, sending both men into the crowd!

"HOLY SH*T!" is what the crowd has to say about that one as both men attempt to recover. AJ is up first and lays the stomps to the Dark Cleric. He lifts him up and tries to whip him into the barricade, but Priest reverses. AJ charges forward... but leaps up onto the barricade and jumps backwards, catching Priest with a big back elbow! Priest gets tossed deeper into the mob of PWW fans as Cross crawls for the barricade yet again. Cross gets to the barricade again and climbs onto it. He balances himself and waits for Priest to get to his feet. Dante does so and staggers forward as Cross leaps off for a vertical crossbody... but Priest catches him! Dante rushes forward and shoves Cross off... AJ gets guillotined on the barricade! AJ falls back into the ring area and frantically grabs at his throat... but now he's coughing up blood. Priest just smiles as he follows his opponent. Dante lays the stomps to Cross, specifically on the throat area, looking to put him away for good. He lifts Cross to his feet and brings him over to the announce table, smacking his head off of it and dropping him back to the ground.

Priest now reaches under the ring again and pulls out a good ol' fashioned table. Cross tries to get up again, but Priest smashes the edge of the table into his forehead. AJ's bleeding now, and Priest is all smiles. The Dark Cleric sets the table up on the outside before grabbing AJ and rolling him into the ring. Priest follows him in and lays a few more stomps before pulling AJ to his feet. He sets him up in a standing headscissors before lifting him into the air for a powerbomb. Oh no... Dante rushes forward, looking to powerbomb AJ out of the ring... but Cross reverses it into a hurricanrana! Priest gets sent through the table on the outside! AJ manages to land on the ring apron and rolls off onto his feet on the outside. He grabs a steel chair from the announce area and climbs back into the apron as Priest tries to recover. Cross now goes up to the top rope with the chair... he's looking for more high risk action. AJ jumps, pulling the chair under his ass and looking for a big chair-assisted butt stomp... but Priest rolls out of the way! AJ lands right on his ass!

AJ writes in pain as Priest grabs at the apron to get himself back on his feet. He shakes out the cobwebs and grabs the chair just used by Cross. He puts it in a sitting position before grabbing AJ and placing him in it. Priest takes a few steps back and runs forward... yakuza kick to the face of Cross! AJ rolls backwards into a heap as Priest gets up, planning his next move. He walks over to AJ, gives the camera a sick smile... rear naked choke! Priest wants to suck the life out of AJ Cross! Cross is stuck on the outside being choked out with no place to go, and things aren't looking good for the fan favorite. AJ waves his arms, trying to find something to grab... and he reaches under the ring. He's feeling around, but Priest doesn't let up, still trying to choke Cross out. AJ finally has his hand on something... he jabs the object into Priest's head. Dante immediately gets off of Cross and rolls around on the ground, holding his head. Cross pulls himself up... he's got a railway spike! Priest gets up, but now he's the one bleeding. He turns around... another spike to the face from Cross! Dante rolls into the ring to avoid further damage and continues to wipe the blood away from his face. Cross gets onto the ring apron, slowly but surely, and climbs up top yet AGAIN. Priest gets to his feet as AJ leaps off... flying jab to the face from the spike! Priest gets FLOORED!

AJ Cross lets out a roar, showing his violent side before tossing the spike to the outside. He hangs onto the ropes and waves at Priest, waiting for him to get up. Dante slowly gets up, grabbing at his lacerated head and turns around... superkick! No! Dante drops to a knee and punches Cross right in the groin! AJ is stopped right in his tracks, Dante lifts him up into the air... THE CULLING IS HIT! Priest goes for the pin and gets one... two... thr- KICKOUT! AJ LIVES! Priest doesn't look too happy so he pulls AJ back up again. He lifts him onto his shoulders for another Culling... but AJ slips out. Priest turns around... SUPERKICK FROM CROSS! Priest gets dropped, but AJ is down as well. This is a Fight Without Honor so somebody's going to have to make a cover. AJ crawls towards Priest... but Dante wisely rolls out of the ring. Cross slams his fist on the mat and begins crawling for the outside. He slips his head under the bottom rope to look for Priest... railway spike to the face! AJ gets a taste of his own medicine as Dante rises on the outside, looking more angry than ever. He tosses the spike away but goes under the ring... and pulls out a table. He goes under again... and pulls out another table. Dante sets both tables up now, stacking them one on top of each other on the outside. He rolls back into the ring and goes over to the fallen AJ Cross... who rolls him into a small package! One! Two! Priest escapes! Dante gets up, but AJ has gotten his second wind. He unleashes a flurry of rights and lefts on Priest before hitting the ropes and coming back with a big spinning heel kick. Priest gets up again... European uppercut sends him down! He gets to his feet quickly and throws a clothesline, but AJ ducks under... HUGE German suplex!

Priest rolls to the outside yet again, looking to escape Cross's flurry. AJ rolls out after him and reaches under the ring... kendo stick! Cross now goes to town on Priest, attacking him with the stick as he tries to escape. Priest rolls back into the ring as AJ follows in hot pursuit. Cross grabs Priest by the hair and pulls him up, but Priest throws a thumb to the eye. As AJ drops his stick and grabs at his face, Priest reaches down and pulls something out of his boot. Cross recovers and goes to attack, but Priest spins around and catches Cross with a HUGE haymaker. Cross falls down, seemingly knocked out... and Priest pulls the brass knuckles off of his hand. Priest drops down for the cover... but only gets two! He can't believe it! The Dark Cleric is obviously pissed now, and he rolls out of the ring once more. Dante goes under the ring... it's ladder time. He wipes some blood away from his face and slides the ladder into the ring. He goes in after it and begins setting it up as Cross pulls himself up slowly. Priest sets the ladder up next to the side of the ring closest to the two tables on the outside. Dante turns around to go after Cross... but gets met with a big boot to the face. Priest stumbles backwards onto the ropes and bounces back... surprise Disgracer! AJ goes for the cover... Dante kicks out right before the three!

Cross has turned the tables on Priest and now grabs him by the hair. He begins climbing the ladder, pulling Dante's body up with him. The two reach the top... and AJ sets Dante up for what looks like a suplex. Uh oh. He tries to lift him, but Priest begins battling back with elbows. The two men begin exchanging strikes on top of the ladder, and AJ capitalizes with a headbutt. He goes to grab Dante again... but Priest breaks free and spits in AJ's face! Cross is blinded, and now Priest headbutts him right in the nose! Cross is about to fall, but he hangs on. However, Priest wraps a hand around his throat... oh no. Priest shoves Cross off the ladder... and he falls through the two tables below! The fans can't believe it as AJ Cross lies in a bloody heap on the floor below. Priest falls backwards off the ladder back into the center of the ring. Both men are down for a few more moments, but of course, Priest is the first to recover. He rolls over to the outside and slowly grabs Cross, shoving him back into the ring. Priest follows him in and makes the cover... one... two...

NO! CROSS WILL NOT DIE!

AJ shoots an arm up in defiance, stunning his adversary. Priest slams the mat in frustration, but hastily pulls AJ back up to his feet. Before Cross even has time to react, Dante has the adrenaline pumping... and hits another Culling! AJ is now out cold, and Dante is damn near out as well. However, the Dark Cleric manages to drape an arm over Cross... and this time, he can't escape the three count.

Winner via Pinfall: Dante Priest

Scott the Scoop:
What a war of attrition. Dante Priest proves why he is a legend by finally putting away his friend-turned-foe, AJ Cross. An incredible war…

Slick Rick:
I’m… practically speechless here, Scott.

Scott the Scoop:
There’s a first time for everything, I guess. Well, folks, we’re going from one extreme to another. From extremely bloody brawls to extreme high flying, it’s time for Capital Crimes! For those unfamiliar with how this match works, there is a large steel cage set up around the ring. At the top of the steel cage are two wires that cross; hanging from the wires are multiple weapons that can be used in the bout. The winner is the first man to grab the prize – in this case, the PWW World Freestyle Championship – from the middle, where the wires cross.

Darius Falcon © versus Damon Black versus Chris Linden versus Rob Cavallo
Capital Crimes; PWW Freestyle Title

The crowd begins to roar as the cage to the Capital Crimes match slowly lowers from the ceiling. The wires across the cage contain many weapons – four steel chairs, two trash cans, one Singapore cane, one street sign, one night stick, one baseball bat, and a table, to be precise. The fans know this one is going to be high octane violence. Damon Black is the first man to make his way to the ring, getting a huge ovation. He enters through the cage door and takes a look-see at the weapons before stretching a bit. Rob Cavallo is out next, and likewise, he gets a positive response. A few boos can be heard as well, as some just can’t stand his arrogance. Chris Linden is out next-to-last, and he gets nothing but boos and hate from this rabid Philly crowd. The arrogant nEXt Generation Superstar sneers at his two opponents as they stand in the ring. Finally Darius Falcon makes his way to the ring. After the words he had for his opponents earlier tonight, I’m sure all three will want a piece of the reigning champion.

The bell rings, and all four men begin slugging it out immediately, not wanting to waste a second to unleash their rage on Darius Falcon! Falcon takes a barrage of fists, but eventually it breaks into chaos, with Linden clawing Cavallo’s eyes, and Black taking a few shots at Linden. Falcon uses the moment to recover in the corner, before he slowly slinks up the turnbuckles and grabs a steel chair. Black turns around in time to take a brutal chair shot to the head, sending him to the mat! Falcon rams the end of the chair in Linden’s stomach and then opens it up and places it on the mat. He whips Chris to the ropes and delivers a hip toss onto the chair, nearly flattening it with the force! Meanwhile, Cavallo takes the chance to grab his own steel chair off the cable. These gentlemen are going right for the goods, not wanting to waste a second before they grab the weapons. Cavallo swings and misses Falcon’s head by an inch, and Darius is able to connect with a leg sweep. He runs to the ropes and returns with a snapping leg drop. Falcon is pretty proud of himself, taking time to postulate and such. However, he forgot that Damon Black is behind him and now has a steel chair. Falcon turns around and gets drilled in the face with the chair, payback for the shot just a moment ago.

Black drops the chair and tries to climb to grab the belt; however, all those pesky weapons get in the way, and Linden is able to pull him down. Chris and Damon exchange some punches, and Cavallo dropkicks Chris in the back, sending him into The Icon. Both men are stuck, and Cavallo grabs a chair, setting it up. He runs to the other side of the ring and returns, jumping off the chair with a big leg lariat that sandwiches both men in the corner. Falcon charges in, but Rob drop toeholds him onto the open steel chair, a move that Darius has used throughout his whole career! Falcon doesn’t like the taste of his own medicine, falling to the mat and clutching his forehead in pain. Rob takes the moment to climb up the ropes and tries to climb across the cables. He gets the farthest of anybody yet, but Black pulls him down into an inverted atomic drop. Linden kicks Damon in the back of the leg, causing him to fall to a knee. Chris follows it up by jumping off Black’s back and connecting with a sick enzuigiri that knocks Cavallo to the mat!

Linden goes to grab Black, but instead takes a jawbreaker. Falcon returns to his feet and connects with an enzuigiri on Black, taking him down. Cavallo returns to his feet and nails a spinning heel kick that takes Falcon out. Linden returns to his feet as well and connects with a dropsault, kicking Cavallo in the face and moonsaulting onto Falcon! He gets up, ready to pose, but Black connects with the Superkick out of nowhere! Linden falls to the mat in pain, and Black decides it’s time to grab another weapon. He retrieves the street sign, which reads “One Way Road”. There’s only one way to win this match, and that’s by grabbing the title – but inflicting extra punishment may be the best way to secure that opportunity! Black swings with the sign and hits a rising Falcon in the head with it, sending him down. He begins to choke Darius with the end of the sign, but Cavallo swiftly kicks Black between the legs from behind. Everybody underestimates the kick in the groin.

Cavallo grabs the street sign and places it on his shoulders. He starts spinning wildly, connecting with the edge of the sign in Linden’s head, busting him open! He continues to spin, catching Falcon as he gets up. Black manages to get to his feet, duck under a potential street sign shot, and tackle Cavallo to the mat to end his crazed street sign airplane spin of doom~! Black nails a few shots on Cavallo before grabbing his legs and applying a Boston Crab! A submission hold in THIS match? Who’da thunk? Black eventually relinquishes the hold, realizing it can’t possibly win the match for him. He kicks the street sign away and climbs the turnbuckles, this time to grab the Singapore Cane. He jumps off and misses a shot on Cavallo, before getting taken down to the mat with a leg sweep. Cavallo knocks the weapon out of Black’s hands and the two men start fighting it out on the mat. Linden grabs the Singapore Cane and hits Black over the back with it! He goes to hit Cavallo, but Rob rolls out of the way in the nick of time.

Linden throws the cane down and begins throttling Rob with his bare hands. Cavallo kicks him in the nads and delivers an Ace Crusher to drop his foe. Cavallo grabs a steel chair and slams it into Linden’s chest. He climbs up the ropes again, grabbing another steel chair and stands poised on the top rope. Cavallo tries to deliver a steel chair shot on the downed Linden, who has a chair on him already, but Chris barely moves, and Rob crashes and burns. Meanwhile, Falcon has recuperated after a brief break in the corner and is climbing up the ropes. He detaches the large, wooden table from the cable and lets it slam onto the mat. Falcon doesn’t seem content, as he grabs the trashcan off the cable as well and throws it down. He continues to move across the cable, finally getting to the title, but he gets powerbombed off the cable by Black before he has a chance to nab his title.

Damon grabs Falcon and Irish whips him into the corner. He picks up the trashcan and places it over Falcon’s head in the stereotypical comedy fashion, delivering a few punches to the metal trash containment unit. Black delivers a superkick into the trashcan that sends Falcon to the mat, unconscious. But that isn’t enough for Damon – oh, no – He lifts his body in the corner and comes down hard on the trashcan with a leg drop – He showboatin’! Black clutches his ass in pain, realizing the move was probably a bad one for his own safety, but at the very least he dished out some major pain on Falcon. Damon hobbles over toward the ropes, but before he can react, he gets dropped with a dropkick from Linden. Chris proceeds to stomp Damon near the ropes, and Cavallo seizes the advantage, trying to grab the title. Chris spots his nemesis and grabs his feet, trying to pull him down. Cavallo kicks at Linden a few times, but eventually drops down to the mat. He swings for a clothesline, but Linden ducks and grabs Cavallo, setting up a Russian Leg Sweep. Black returns to his feet and grabs Linden, wanting to deliver the same move to him! Finally, Falcon gets to his feet and grabs the Singapore Cane, wraps it around Damon’s throat, and delivers a White Russian Leg Sweep (make it a virgin!), driving all four men into the mat with synchronized leg sweeps!

The fans applaud the action, as all four men in the match are forced to take a breather. Falcon is first to his feet, naturally, but even he has taken a lot of punishment in this bout. As champion, he has no advantage over the challengers, as all four men have the same goal – grab the belt from the cables. Falcon grabs Black by his head and slams his head into the steel cage wall. He then begins to scrape Black’s face into the cage, using it like a cheese grater, while calling him “dirty” and using racially charged words. The fans begin to boo and throw garbage, until Black nails an elbow to the groin and slams Falcon’s face into the cage as well! Cavallo grabs Black and rakes his eyes, a rather cheap move. Cavallo begins to climb the cables and gets above the ring, but Linden cuts him off. He and Falcon grab Rob off the cables and charge, ramming his head hard into the steel cage wall! Cavallo flips backwards and lands on the mat, battered. Linden and Falcon go to shake hands, but Linden turns on Falcon with a punch. Falcon returns the favor, and the least popular men in the match are going at it, much to the fans’ delight. Black recovers and slams the two nincompoops’ heads together. He focuses on Falcon, delivering a few chops in the corner. Linden grabs the street sign from earlier and charges in, but Black has eyes in the back of his head and connects with a Pele Kick that sends the sign right into Linden’s face! Chris falls to the mat and looks to be having a seizure… oh wait, he’s just in EXTREME PAIN~!

Cavallo grabs a bat and grabs Black from behind and connects with a unique version of the lung blower! Black is the one suffering unimaginable agony now, and Cavallo reaps the rewards, climbing the cage this time to try to get a better grip on the cables and get the belt. Falcon still has gas left in the tank, though, and climbs up as well. The two men are hanging from the cables, and they start exchanging blows. Cavallo kicks Falcon in the balls (I believe that’s his 23rd cheap shot of the night) and grabs the trashcan from the cable. In an awkward, yet effective move, he wings the trashcan and hits Falcon in the head, sending him to the mat! Cavallo is just INCHES from the belt, but with a burst of energy, Black springs off the ropes and nails a shot that knocks Cavallo off, sending him flying halfway across the ring and crashing hard on the mat. All four men have been through complete hell, but they know what lies at stake: the most valuable belt they could win.

Black struggles back to his feet and begins to climb the cage… He gets all the way to the top! Black is standing on the cage, but Falcon returns to his feet and delivers a charging shoulderblock that sends Black off the cage! He manages to grab the top of the cage, preventing himself from falling all the way to the floor to utter devastation. Falcon delivers another charging shoulderblock, and another, sending Black careening off the cage wall and onto the floor! He’s outside of the ring! Black’s risky attempt to get to the belt quickly didn’t pay off at all, and now only three competitors are in the ring. Falcon turns around and gets a mouthful of fist from Cavallo. They duke it out, and Linden grabs a steel chair, smacking Cavallo from behind. He tosses it to Falcon, and then grabs another. They stand on either side of Cavallo, ready to obliterate him with the Conchairto. Cavallo stands… but he ducks out of the way in the nick of time! Linden and Falcon smash their fingers, and Cavallo doubles Darius over with a kick to the gut. He grabs him into a neckbreaker, then doubles Linden over with another kick to the gut and delivers a simultaneous DDT/Neckbreaker combo on Linden and Falcon!

Cavallo slowly pulls himself to his feet, trying to recover. Black is still down on the outside, so he has a clear shot to get to the belt. Cavallo sees that only a nightstick remains in the weapons hanging from the cables. He snatches it and puts it in his teeth as he climbs across the cables, thinking he has a better shot at fending off any of his opponents that way. Linden and Falcon get back to their feet and grab Cavallo by either leg, pulling him down into a very painful split! Cavallo couldn’t fight them off with his nightstick… Linden and Falcon grab Cavallo and try to figure out just what the hell to do with him, but before they can, Damon Black has perched himself atop the steel cage and dives off, hitting a corkscrew Plancha on all three men out of nowhere! The fans go absolutely bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

Black gets to his feet and grabs a steel chair, opening it and placing it on the mat. It looks like he wants to dish out some punishment to Falcon. He lifts Falcon above his head into a powerbomb position… and drives his face onto the chair with an alley oop! Black can’t see Linden, who’s grabbed another chair, and delivers a shot to his back. He drives Black’s throat onto the top of the chair with a chair guillotine, slamming the end of the object off the mat. Cavallo hits a Van Daminator on Linden when he’s least expecting it, taking him out! Falcon slowly gets on his hands and knees, and Cavallo kicks him in the head. He slams his head onto the steel chair and climbs the ropes. Instead of grabbing the cable, he tries to deliver a leg drop onto the chair, but Falcon moves and lets Cavallo crotch himself on the steel object! Darius places Cavallo in the seated chair and slaps him across the face. He springs off the middle rope and hits a twisting leg lariat that sends Cavallo and the chair toppling onto the mat.

Falcon has a moment to recover before he begins climbing, trying to get the belt. Falcon, knowing the other wrestlers are going to try to stop him, begins to climb across the cable like a sloth – he wraps his legs around the cable and moves toward the belt feet-first, wanting to ward off his enemies. Damon Black begins climbing the same corner that Falcon did, wanting to go after him. Falcon stares at him, and knowing he can’t fend him off, takes a barrage of kicks from Black. Linden climbs the same corner as Black and Falcon and delivers a missile dropkick that sends Black flying off the cable. Falcon nearly falls off the cables and is hanging by just his legs now, unable to grab the cables. Cavallo climbs up the same corner everyone else used and faces Falcon. He leaps off… and connects with a sick variation of the Time Splitter, his patented cutter! Falcon falls and lands on top of Linden, crushing him with an ugly looking splash-like maneuver!

Black and Cavallo get back up and go to opposite corners. They begin to climb across the cables, meeting in the middle. They start kicking each other, and the punishment is too much, causing both to fall to the mat in pain. This match has taken its toll on all four men, but they will do anything to become Freestyle Champion! Damon Black is first to his feet, climbing the cage yet again. His courage knows no boundaries. He gets on top of the cage, ready to jump across the cables to try to grab them in an epic maneuver, but Linden and Cavallo – now working together to prevent Black from winning, slam into the sides of the cage, causing Black to fall yet again. This time he catches himself on the top of the cage and lies there, trying to recover. Linden and Cavallo climb up the cage and grab Black on either side… Oh no… they can’t possibly… IT IS! SPANISH FLY OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE ON DAMON BLACK! ALL THREE MEN GO DOWN! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T!

Falcon sees an opportunity and grabs the wooden table, about the only weapon that hasn’t been destroyed in this hellacious match. He places the table in the middle of the ring, and in an epic bitch move attempt, climbs onto the table and jumps up, grabbing the cables! What an ingenious/cowardly maneuver, depending on how you look at it. Falcon is trying to get the belt off the cables, but Cavallo miraculously reaches his feet and grabs Falcon by the leg. Darius kicks him a few times in the head, and Cavallo staggers back, lying on the table. Chris Linden climbs the ropes behind Falcon, and Black climbs in front of Falcon. Darius is sandwiched between two of his foes, feverishly trying to grab the Freestyle Title with no avail. Linden delivers a few kicks to the back of Falcon’s legs, and Darius again tries to get the belt. Black delivers a huge kick to Darius’ face that sends him flying off the cables, crashing on Cavallo, through the table! The fans erupt! Linden and Black are kicking at each other now, trying to become the Freestyle Champion. Linden tries to kick Black in the balls, but Damon checks his kick and fires a boot to his face, sending Linden off, crashing down on top of Cavallo and Falcon with an ugly looking flip! Black is all alone on the cables… he grabs the belt and drops down!

Winner via Belt Retrieval and NEW PWW World Freestyle Champion: Damon Black

The fans are ecstatic! “The Icon” Damon Black has won his first major singles championship, the PWW World Freestyle Title, a feat many claimed would never happen! Black holds the belt up proudly, though he’s obviously nursing some wear and tear from the incredible match. The other three combatants lie in a heap of blood, sweat, and tears, and Black acknowledges them with a curt nod and grin. He poses on each corner as referees help the three losers out of the ring. Black gets some time alone in the squared circle as the Capital Crimes structure is raised to the ceiling again in preparation for the main event.

Scott the Scoop:
Damon Black has finally realized his dream, accomplishing everything he sought to in this sport of professional wrestling.

Slick Rick:
I really thought Falcon had this one in the bag, but he made a costly error, and Black was able to capitalize. I have to give the kid his due.

Scott the Scoop:
He’s not a kid. Not anymore, Rick. War has made him into… A MAN.

Slick Rick:
…Okay, quit riding his jock and get on with the program.

Scott the Scoop:
Well, fans, it’s been a very memorable night here at Outburst, and up next, we’re going out with a bang. It’s the main event of the evening – for the PWW World Heavyweight Championship – Malice is set to defend the title against Drake Vinaldi. These two men have been at odds with one another for several months, and—

Scott’s words are interrupted by the arena’s lights suddenly darkening and spotlights hitting the entryway. There is a moment of silence, before we can hear the intro to Def Leppard’s “Gods of War”, and the entire crowd erupts with cheers! They immediately recognize the entrance music of GOD’S FINEST GRAPPLERS! Shine and Martinez jump out from behind the entrance curtain and cup their ears to embrace the deafening ovation. Both men are wearing PWW t-shirts and fanny packs and they head to the ring, striding with confidence (because they aren’t wrestling tonight). The most popular tag team to never win the world tag team championships enters the ring and parades about, posing on the ropes and such, before Shine gets on the stick.

Daniel Shine:
Thank you. That really means a lot to me. Thank you. Yes, I’ll meet you at the hotel later.

Shine winks and blows a kiss to a well endowed woman in the third row, who catches the kiss and places it on her ample bosom.

Daniel Shine:
Fans, it’s been a long time… and I don’t like the road no more. I wanna go home. I wanna go home, home, home, home, home, home, home, home—

Martinez slaps the mic out of Shine’s hands, who looks kind of stunned but eventually regains his composure while his longtime friend speaks.

Terry Martinez:
It’s been a long and hard road, and I have to say, there were nights when I left this ring absolutely throbbing with agony, and I could hardly contain myself. I had to hit the showers and just… just… RELEASE. That’s what I’m going to do here. I’m going to release, to share what is inside of me with all of you. It’s all right here…

Martinez conspicuously goes to place a hand over his crotch, but Shine quickly grabs his arm and raises it, helping him pound himself in the chest. Maritnez nods and mouths “thank you.”

Terry Martinez:
Sorry about that. I uh… I’m a little drunk. What the hell, right? We don’t have a match tonight. But, ladies, gentlemen, hermaphrodites… Danny and I have been in this business a long time. I remember in nineteen ought seventy three, when we ventured to the Orient for our ninety-third tour of All New Genome Japan Noah Federation, and we conquered the greatest grapplers in the sport’s history, Itchiharu Tetsuocles and Kung Fu Panda Mask for the International Grand Prix of Globally Honored Wrestling Dynasty Force Championships and cement our legacy as the greatest tag team that ever was. Then me, Dan, and the Genie flew back to the United States, but due to the Bermuda Triangle, we entered a time warp taking us 35 years in the future and destroying all footage of the incredible event. Fortunately, we managed to recreate the event using some stand-ins, and quite possibly – nay, quite honestly – the greatest moment in wrestling history has been captured on video tape for YOUR viewing pleasure and is available on our site – sandm.net for twelve easy payments of $59.99. This footage is out of print, folks, and supplies are limited to 250 million copies so act fast, act now! Included on the DVD is the video footage of yours truly and Daniel Shine sparring in the Octagon for twenty-six one-second rounds, pushing the limits of what man can endure.

Shine grabs the stick back from Terry and shakes his head with shame, but he decides to just move onto his own words.

Daniel Shine:
You know, it may be hard to believe for our legions of fans out there – And a special hello to legion #347 – thanks for the bran muffins; they were delish. Anyway, it might be hard to buy this, but Terry and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. No, like any tag team, no matter how great, we’ve had our share of spats. We’ve fought over money, over booze, over the last French fry, over women… But the truth is, none of those things could come between us.

Terry Martinez:
Except women. They came between us pretty oft-

Daniel Shine:
The point is, that like the fans of PWW, we’ve had our up and downs with this promotion. Like a tale of two t*tties, It was the breast of times, it was the worst of times. But PWW wasn’t just a wrestling promotion for Terry and me. It was a World of Wrestling Entertainment. When we set foot into the ring to enter battle, we weren’t just entertainers; we were Pro Wrestling Guerrillas, and in this Combat Zone of Wrestling, this was a Ring of Honor, and we were willing to take it To The Extreme. But most of all, I’ll never forget the Total Nonstop Action we got from the ring rats. Thank you again, Chesty Larue. You were my fave. Again, that’s the Holiday Inn. Breath mints are complimentary and recommended.

Terry Martinez:
And now, in an overwhelming display of generosity and goodwill – tis the season, after all – we will now give out free gifts.

The fans roar with approval as another large breasted woman hands Shine and Martinez two machine gun looking launchers, and the crowd gets PUMPED~!

Daniel Shine:
I think these fans are really going to enjoy the God’s Finest Grapplers t-shirts, Terry.

Terry Martinez:
I don’t have any t-shirts, Danny. I spared no expense, because even in this poor economy, I can afford to spread some goodwill.

All of a sudden, Terry Martinez grabs a black army bandana and wraps it around his hair as ”Ride of the Valkyries” begins playing for no obvious reason. Martinez grabs the gun, and like any action sequence, we enter slow motion. Martinez begins to unload the gun rapidly – OH MY GOD… PRE-OWNED URANIUM MOUTHGUARDS FOR ALL! THEY’RE GOING ALL OVER THE PLACE! HOLY SPIT! HOLY SPIT! HOLY SPIT! DUN DUN, DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN, DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN, DUN DUN DUN DUUUNNN! Martinez eventually blows his load and passes out on the mat, breathing heavily. In a raspy voice, he whispers into the mic…

Terry Martinez:
Was it as good for you… as it was… for me?

The cameraman looks around ringside as several fans are laid out and EMTs are on the scene. We hear screams of ”Oh, my eye!” and ”He’s a goddamn madman!” Martinez breathes heavily as Shine stares in disbelief, jaw gaped open, hand still on his unit… erm… t-shirt gun.

Scott the Scoop:
Fans, I hate to take you away from the ring like this, but there is a breaking event taking place backstage and – okay, we have a cameraman in position. We’re going back there now…

The scene is a locker room, labeled: “Darius Falcon.” The door is ajar, and from inside, we can hear groans of agony. Suddenly, a shadow emerges and enters through the door. Falcon, seated on the floor, heavily bandaged, rises to his feet to greet the intruder, who we see is Rohan Malhotra.

“You thought it was over? Your world has just begun to unravel.”

Before Falcon can react, Rohan has slammed a sledgehammer into his ribs, winding him. He collapses onto a bench, but the Minority Militant doesn’t pursue him yet.

“You might have lost your title tonight, Darius. Your cronies may have proven to be inept and impotent. Your bigoted doctrine may have failed a major test tonight, but I have declared war with you. War does not rest after one battle. I cannot be satisfied with one measly benchmark and a victory over Ryan Starr, or else my people will never get redemption. Too much is at stake.”

Rohan proceeds to bend over, so that he’s within inches of Falcon’s face. But there’s only a furious scowl on his face, as he continues to talk.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I lacked the common sense to figure out your devilish games? Your heightened sense of racial supremacy is ridiculous.

Yes, I know that hatred that’s festering within you. The one that causes you to distrust all of us wholly. The one that makes the Awakening nothing more than a little skinhead operation, employing only Caucasian stiffs in your legion. The one that caused you to thrust me out of PWW.”

Falcon looks like he’s almost amused by this outburst of anger, and smirks slightly despite the pain that he’s in. Rohan doesn’t approve, and violently shoves Falcon onto the floor.

“Quit playing games, Falcon. I’ve grown immune to them now. When I first got notification of my dismissal, I quickly blamed it on the management as part of its ongoing crusade to snub the minorities of the company. I mean, if they really wanted to enforce their wellness policy, they had Drake Vinaldi going from a slim X Division fighter in the MDW to a buff heavyweight contender. They had Sean Walker admitting to steroids, among other confessions. They had Tristan Novak, Johnny Reed, and Roderick Brookes screaming out for suspension, bottles in hand.

But it became blatantly obvious that there was no management involved. Simpson and Komodo had disappeared, Kahn had taken over the commissioner’s office, and your deranged new world order had started to win championships. And that’s when it hit me. The Awakening had suddenly started to win titles. There you were, grinning from ear to ear, as each week you and your posse beat down on a new victim and stood triumphantly, clutching prizes in your hand. You had overthrown the management of PWW, and installed yourself as head of a new regime.”

Rohan now stands on the bench that Falcon had been sitting on, and he looks down at the Awakening chief in revulsion and disgust. The sledgehammer remains clutched tightly in his right fist.

“To the common Caucasian fool that watches PWW, you’re waging a campaign against immorality and organized religions. You’re the Anti-Christ trying to punish those who’ve sinned in your eyes. You’re the judge, jury, and executioner of all that goes against the laws of humanity.

But this is nothing more than an elaborate farce. It conceals what’s really the basis of your campaign. This is more than just a battle of religious ideology to you; this is your chance to create a feeling of racial supremacy in this company. You want only the strongest and most loyal Caucasian men to lead the world.

Isn’t it obvious? You’ve been weeding out those who violate your codes, in order to strengthen your base of support. You’ve allowed and even encouraged the sellouts of the minority community—the Damon Blacks of the business—to move into the spotlight and face you with the odds stacked against them, so that you can impress upon the world this belief that Caucasians are greater than everybody else.”

Falcon looks like he’s had enough, and is starting to stir and rise to his feet. However, Rohan leaps off the bench and knocks him back down to the ground with a vicious Ghetto Stomp into the ribs. Falcon looks knocked out cold, but Rohan seems oblivious to this fact, as he remains mounted on the former Freestyle Champion, continuing his rant.

“You’re nothing more than a modern-day Adolph Hitler, and I was destined to be your Jesse Owens. The minute you saw me emerge from out of the ashes of oppression, you feared what I stood for. You made it your mission to exile me from this sport, to have your tool Damon Black strip me of my honor in the ring, and then bring me the humiliation of the pink slip in the center of the ring.

You will not escape my fury, Darius Falcon. That filthy piece of white trash, Chris Linden, may have stolen your title, but the worst has yet to come. On Unfinished Business, I’m gonna take your pride. I’m gonna take your reputation. And I’m gonna leave you crumpled in a pool of your own blood, like a pathetic carcass who tried to bite off more than he could chew. You’ve sown the seeds of discontent, and now you’re gonna reap the final products, and face the damn consequences of it all, and you will not walk away from it.”

Malhotra finally finishes the rant, and stares fixatedly at the unconscious face of Falcon for a couple of seconds. He finally spits into the face of the Eye of Epiphany and gets to his feet, choosing to leave as we go back to ringside.

Scott the Scoop:
What a… an absolutely disturbing scene we just witnessed, Richard.

Slick Rick:
Yeah, the spit flying, the classical music. I was getting a headache and feeling a little—

Scott the Scoop:
I’m talking about the BRUTAL ATTACK on Darius Falcon! Rohan Malhotra just laid the former champion out cold.

 

[Dean]

Well… at any rate, up next, as promised, is our World Heavyweight Championship bout, the main event of the evening. Let’s look at the tale of the tape:

As you can see, Malice will enter the bout with the height and weight advantage. Also keep in mind that the match is an ambulance match – it will start in the ring, go through the arena, and end when one man is placed inside the ambulance that is located in the parking lot. Malice is more adept to brawling, but do not underestimate the versatility of Drake Vinaldi, and given his state of mind and intense focus, one could argue that these men are evenly matched.

Slick Rick:
Well, Scott, I don’t think we can narrow it down to one thing – There are going to be a number of variables here. Both of these men have a lot of gas in the tank; they’re both well-conditioned athletes who keep themselves in great shape. Malice has more experience in brawling, but Drake Vinaldi has picked up a lot of techniques by wrestling around the world. While on the surface, the technical style of puroresu or Muay Thai kickboxing, and the high flying skills that Vinaldi has gained throughout his career may not seem useful in this environment, Drake Vinaldi is one of the most versatile, creative wrestlers I’ve ever seen. I’ve learned long ago never to underestimate him, as he is a true warrior, and given his mindset and determination, and that of Malice as well, this one is really a toss up. Either of these men would make a fantastic final champion for PWW, in all honesty. I’m going to be sitting back and calling the action with you, Scott.

Scott the Scoop:
Well said, Rick. Let’s go to the ring for the introductions and entrances of our competitors.

The fans are silent in the Daskalakis Athletic Center, a hush having fallen on the crowd since the lights dimmed and a white spotlight hit the ring. Todd Duvet stands in his tuxedo, perhaps for the last time in his announcing career. He stands poised, awaiting the arrival of the two competitors. ”Fight Music” by D12/Eminem hits the loudspeakers, and it could mean the arrival of only one man – “The Sicilian Shooter” Drake Vinaldi, a man who has meant so much to Pro Wrestling Warriors since its inception. Vinaldi quickly moves past the curtains and walks with purpose and pride toward the ring as the fans applaud him. Despite his questionable tactics over the last several months, these fans hold a tremendous amount of respect for Vinaldi, a true pioneer of Pro Wrestling Warriors and one of the founding fathers who helped elevate the company to the standard it set. Vinaldi is wearing his usual attire – a rather drab, yet ominous garb of all black – black boots, kick pads, and cargo pants that are tucked. Vinaldi sports a few scrapes, no doubt incurring them from his recent battles with Malice. He walks up the stairs and enters the ring, posing on the turnbuckles and making a few gestures that would no doubt intimidate any normal man.

However, his opponent is no normal man; he is one of the most ruthless and calculating fighters in the history of the sport. After Vinaldi finishes his entrance and crouches in the corner, almost in a meditative state in preparation for the biggest match of his career, his concentration is likely interrupted a bit by the sounds of Jadakiss’ ”Uh-hunh!” The fans begin cheering right away as the defending PWW Heavyweight Champion of the World runs through the curtains and plays to the fans, throwing the belt up and getting pumped for this important defense, perhaps the biggest match in Malice’s storied career as well. He walks to the ring with focus and a clear game plan. He’s going to gain revenge for the months of torment caused by his opponent tonight and will look for any means possible of achieving that task. Malice enters the ring, but Vinaldi remains in a Zen-like state of concentration. Malice poses on the turnbuckles as well, much like his opponent, and makes a few intimidating gestures of his own. He hands the title to the referee as Todd Duvet delivers the introductions.

Todd Duvet:
Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and is an Ambulance Match for the Pro Wrestling Warriors World Heavyweight Championship. The object of the match is to lock your opponent in the Ambulance with both doors shut to win.

Introducing first, the challenger, standing in the corner to my left. He weighs in tonight at two hundred thirty-one pounds and hails from New York City, by way of Sicily, Italy. He is the number one contender for the Pro Wrestling Warriors World Heavyweight Championship For over two years, he has called Pro Wrestling Warriors his home, and tonight, he hopes to regain possession of the title for the second time. He is the master of “The Killing Blow” and is known the world over as “The Sicilian Shooter”… ladies and gentlemen… DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!

The crowd erupts yet again with cheers as Vinaldi leaps to his feet and stares directly into the eyes of the champion. Vinaldi paces back and forth, casually slapping himself to get in “the zone.” Malice remains calm and confident, stretching a bit in the corner to loosen up the muscles.

Todd Duvet:
And his opponent, standing in the corner to my right, he weighs in tonight at two hundred forty-eight pounds and hails from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. For one year, he has called Pro Wrestling Warriors his home, and he is the current reigning and defending Pro Wrestling Warriors World Heavyweight Champion, defending the championship since April 6, 2008, against opponents such as AJ Cross, Kaimutsu, Roderick Brookes, and the opponent tonight and number one contender, Drake Vinaldi. He is the master of “The Eradication” and is known the world over by simply one name: MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCEEEEEE!!!

Vinaldi sneers at the reminder that he has lost to Malice in the past, but he doesn’t let it bother him, remaining focused on Malice. Duvet exits the ring, and the referee shows the PWW World Heavyweight Title to Vinaldi, who nods and stares at it with great envy. The referee moves toward Malice and shows him the title, and before Malice can even see it coming, Vinaldi lunges forward and knocks his jock off with a tremendous uppercut! The fans gasp, the referee shrieks with terror, and this bout is already underway!

Main Event:
Malice © versus Drake Vinaldi
Ambulance Match; PWW Heavyweight Title

The fans are cheering, chanting the names of the combatants back and forth – “Let’s go Malice!” “Let’s go Drake!” Nobody is sitting down! Vinaldi unloads with vicious forearms straight to the face of the stunned Malice, who is still in the corner. Drake begins to deliver brutal chops to the chest, lighting the champion up. Malice suddenly regains things with a poke to the eye – a normally underhanded tactic, but effective and perfectly legal in the confines of this match. Malice regains his composure and Irish whips Drake into the ropes. He attempts a clothesline, but Vinaldi ducks under and rebounds off the ropes with a leg lariat that sends the champion to the mat! Drake removes the bandana that was wrapped around Malice’s head and wraps it around his throat, choking him violently with it. The referee has no jurisdiction here; it’s out of his hands! Vinaldi uses the lack of rules to his advantage, showing that while Malice may have the experience edge in high profile brawls, Vinaldi has a mean streak that should not be taken lightly. Drake uses the bandana to snapmare Malice over and delivers a series of stiff chops to the back – four, five, six – he finishes it with a kick to the face that sends Malice down to the mat, lying prone on the canvas. He can’t defend against Vinaldi, who rebounds off the ropes and connects with a knee drop to the head.

Drake begins throttling Malice, a blatant choke in front of the referee, which is again perfectly legal in this contest. The personal hatred between these two men cannot be confined by any rules; they must settle it in a barbaric battle for the ages. The fans begin rallying behind Malice now, with about a 60/40 split in favor of the champion. Vinaldi doesn’t let it get to him, as he locks on a chin lock with one arm and drives the point of his elbow into the temple of Malice, trying to disorient the resilient champion. It seems to have an adverse effect, waking the champion up. Malice quickly gets to his feet, and despite Vinaldi’s best attempts and a tight side headlock, he can’t defend against the backdrop driver! Malice drops Vinaldi to the mat with one of his own patented maneuvers, and let me tell you – Malice can dish it out as much as he can take it! Now it’s Malice who has the advantage, and like Vinaldi, he begins choking the champion with all his might, trying to suck the air out of his lungs. Vinaldi gasps for air, having trouble breathing while the near 250 pound champion uses all his weight to squeeze the throat of the challenger. Malice decides to pull Drake back to his feet and sets up for a piledriver, but Vinaldi counters by picking Malice’s ankle and locking on a modified heel hook! He’s going for the Sicilian Grapevine, but Malice grabs the ropes. Drake doesn’t have to release the hold here, but he might as well, as Malice uses the ropes to pull his body out of the ring and escape the deadly submission attempt.

Vinaldi decides to stay in the ring, perhaps where he feels most comfortable, and waits on the champion to return. Malice takes all the time he needs – thirty, forty-five seconds easy – to recuperate on the outside. Meanwhile, in the ring, you can virtually see the wheels turning inside the crazed head of Drake Vinaldi, creating game plans and back up plans, strategies upon strategies, targeting weaknesses, pinpointing his attacks. The Champion may be in trouble, but you would never know by his face. Malice remains as calm and focused as ever, showing that despite his namesake, he can perform well under pressure and not let the emotions get to him. The Champion returns to the ring and avoids any sneak attacks from Vinaldi this time. They move in for a lock up, but Vinaldi cheaply jabs Malice in the eye, perhaps a bit of payback from earlier. He clinches Malice’s head and drives a vicious knee into the nose! He follows up with a series of knees to the face of Malice, who has trouble defending against the Muay Thai expertise of the Sicilian Shooter! Vinaldi is delivering heavy knees to the face that are doing serious damage, but Malice finally counters by throwing fists through the arms of Vinaldi, connecting with a few uppercuts to the daze the challenger. Once the clinch is broken, Malice wraps both arms around his waist and throws him overhead with a vicious belly to belly suplex that drops the Shooter right on his neck!

So far, the match has been contained in the ring, but these two warriors are about to reach the boiling point. The first real break in action occurs now, and the camera zooms in on the face of the champion, which now has blood dripping from the nose. Malice wipes his own blood, and it’s important to note that everyone reacts differently to the sight and smell of their own blood. Some men panic and become defensive and overly cautious; others use it as a means of motivation and become more focused and driven and aggressive. Judging by Malice, it seems his calm, collected composure has been cast to the wayside, as the blood has ignited a reserve of dynamite deep within the explosive psyche of Malice. Malice gets to his feet as Vinaldi takes a break in the corner, trying to recover. However, he can’t possibly defend against the rage that Malice is feeling, the adrenaline coursing through his body. Malice delivers a series of hard punches to the body, to the face, to the head. He whips Malice hard across the ring and delivers a charging lariat that sandwiches Drake in the corner. Vinaldi staggers forward and Malice hooks him… T-BONE SUPLEX! Vinaldi gets dropped on his head! Drake bounces off the mat, clutching his neck. Malice jumps on top and starts dropping elbows and punches, anything to wear him down.

Vinaldi tries to fight back and manages to get his feet – perhaps his best weapon – on Malice’s midsection and kick him off with a monkey flip. Malice returns to his feet, but Vinaldi quickly gets to his as well. Vinaldi, however, is not all with it. He charges Malice, but the Champion grabs Vinaldi and delivers an overhead belly to belly suplex that sends the challenger crashing onto the outside floor! The fans gasp with surprise and begin chanting expletives. Malice sees his opportunity and decides to put Vinaldi away right here, right now. He climbs up the turnbuckles and gets his footing, facing Drake and preparing for a big blow. Vinaldi gets to his feet and Malice leaps off for what appears to be a double axe handle or maybe a crossbody, but Drake side steps and shoves Malice chest and throat first into the steel guardrail! The fans again gasp with shock as Malice falls to the floor, clutching his throat and chest, which are now red from the impact. Vinaldi wisely uses the few seconds that he can to breathe and regain some energy and formulate another plan. He walks over to Malice and delivers a few well-placed boots to his head and chest, before he begins choking Malice on the floor, pulling on the guardrail for extra added pressure and torque.

Drake delivers a few more kicks to the stomach and pulls Malice back to his feet by his t-shirt. He delivers a few more knees, this time to the chest and stomach, trying to pound the air out of his lungs. It seems to be effective, as Malice is gasping for air. Vinaldi delivers a wicked discus chop to the chest that lights Malice up and sends the Champ staggering a few feet backward, catching himself on the guardrail for support. Vinaldi fires another boot to the stomach and leaves Malice leaning on the steel barricade. Vinaldi reaches underneath the ring, revealing a steel chair. He takes a few steps back, a malicious grin slowly forming on the Shooter’s face. He charges forward and tries to hit Malice, but the Champion ducks out of the way and Vinaldi connects with the top of the guardrail. Malice goes into his bag of tricks and delivers an uppercut between the legs, a perfect groin shot that stuns Vinaldi. Malice snatches the chair away, and before Vinaldi can cover up, BLASTS HIM with the chair over the head! It looks like Malice hit Vinaldi with the top of the chair, the hardest part, not even the seat! The fans watch on with horror as Vinaldi appears to be knocked out on the floor!

Malice drops the chair and paces around the ring, looking for an object. He walks to the other side of the ring as the cameras follow. What on earth is he looking for? Malice continues to look under the aprons until he finally apparently finds what he wants. He reaches under the ring… and reveals a white stretcher! How fitting! Malice pulls the stretcher out and sets it up, raising it so it’s just below the level of the ring. He begins to wheel the stretcher back around, and the cameras catch glimpse of Vinaldi, who’s bleeding like a stuck pig! Oh my god… it’s so disgusting. Clumps of blood are oozing from Vinaldi’s head, like a faucet almost, just pouring all over the canvas on the ring. Vinaldi is leaning on the ring for support, trying to get his balance, but he is losing blood at an alarming rate! This is going to play a huge role in the match. If you lose so much blood that the floor and mats are covered with it, it’s only a matter of time until you lose enough blood that you’ll pass out. Malice really leveled Vinaldi with the shot earlier, and we get a replay of the chair shot that busted Vinaldi wide open. The Champion has wheeled the stretcher around the ring and places it near the entryway. He delivers a few short jabs to Vinaldi, who doesn’t have the will to remain standing and falls to the floor. Malice grabs Vinaldi and slowly pulls him toward the stretcher, managing to roll him on top, leaving pools of blood wherever he goes.

The Champion begins wheeling his challenger down the entryway, between the guardrails, as the fans watch on with shock and horror. Malice gets all the way to the black curtain, onto the main part of the entrance area. Vinaldi suddenly comes to and begins kicking wildly while on the stretcher, nailing Malice with shots. It seems the cut has clotted itself and has stopped bleeding quite as profusely, though blood still drips out of it like a leaking faucet. Vinaldi kicks Malice low, causing him to fall to the floor. Vinaldi positions the stretcher and jumps onto it, backflipping off with a variation of the Lunatic High! Malice gets sandwiched underneath! The fans cheer the grit of Vinaldi to deliver such a blow after receiving so much punishment. Both men rest for a moment as we replay the Lunatic High that Vinaldi somehow hit off the stretcher. The double stomp has effectively worn down Malice to the point where it’s anyone’s game. Vinaldi and Malice return to their feet, and Drake delivers a few hard slaps to the face. Malice returns in kind, but with closed fists that rock Vinaldi. Drake decides to go for the knees, delivering a series of vicious kicks that stomp the Champion in his tracks. He tries to Irish whip Malice into the guardrail, but Malice uses his near 20-pound weight advantage to reverse and send Vinaldi careening into the hard steel! Vinaldi writhes with agony, but Malice has found his second (or perhaps third or fourth) wind and begins pummeling Vinaldi with blows.

Drake is bleeding again from the head, and Malice doesn’t let up. He slams Drake’s bloodied face into the guardrail and then Irish whips him into part of the set. Vinaldi bounces off like a pinfall and staggers like a drunkard, moving past several security and personnel. Malice pursues Vinaldi, who begins violently throwing objects in Malice’s path, doing anything in his limited power to hold off the champion until he can regain his wits. Vinaldi grabs a container full of DVD’s and throws them at Malice, causing the DVDs to spill all over the place, most of them causing Malice to slip and fall. Vinaldi bought himself some time and grabs the table that some concession items were on, clearing it off. He leans the table against the wall setting it up for somebody to go through it. Vinaldi returns to Malice and delivers a vicious kick to the head – not quite the Killing Blow, but effective nonetheless. Drake connects with a snapping Mongolian Chop that really works the trapeziums, muscles that are so important in Malice’s execution of The Death Note or The Eradication. Vinaldi continues to work on the upper body and neck of Malice with a few chops to the neck and chest. He fires off a big boot to the face – nothing fancy about that, but it causes the champion’s brains to get rattled. Vinaldi finally pulls Malice toward the table and sets up a suplex. Malice manages to hook the leg to block it and fires a few uppercuts to the midsection – and perhaps a few to the groin to boot. He lifts Vinaldi off the floor… and drives him onto the concrete with a brainbuster!

Vinaldi’s brains are splattered all over the floor of the Daskalakis Athletic Center! Malice takes a minute to catch his breath as these fans are going absolutely nuts watching this action on the big screen. Malice returns to his feet after a replay of the maneuver and begins stomping the downed Vinaldi, who is crawling with his bloodied hands and face on the floor, struggling just to survive at this point. Malice pulls Vinaldi up and gets him in position. He hooks him, perhaps for the Downward Spiral, but Vinaldi blocks it with a few elbows. Drake stuns Malice long enough to attempt a Roaring Elbow, but Malice hooks under that and attempts a T-Bone Suplex. Once again, the countering ability of Vinaldi comes into play, who has to be running on fumes here. He uses a few more back elbows to block the suplex through the table, which would surely put him out for good. Vinaldi uses a knee to the groin to regain the momentum and swiftly wraps his hands around the waist of The PWW Heavyweight Champion and lifts him… and drives him through the table with a Backdrop Driver! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T!

These two men know each other, but Vinaldi regains the upperhand with that incredible blow. Drake is leaving a trail of blood, swaying and having trouble staying on his feet. He sees the door leading to the parking lot and looks back at Malice. Vinaldi grabs a fire extinguisher and sprays Malice, causing him to cough and roll out of the debris just to breathe. Vinaldi pulls Malice by his shirt and tries to drag him toward the door, but Drake himself has expended far too much energy and collapses on the floor. Malice now realizes his challenger is in a weakened state, but he too is unable to capitalize. This is a war of attrition if I’ve ever seen one. Neither man is willing to give an inch, but at what costs? They are inflicting permanent damage to one another and unto themselves that will last a lifetime. Vinaldi crawls, on his hands and knees, and charges… headbutt! He delivers a headbutt to Malice. These two are like mad dogs trying to get at each other, on hands and knees. They lock it up and begin choking each other. The referee has had a hell of a time with the vicious nature of this battle, and now we might see both of them lose their lives! Vinaldi uses his natural technique to spin around and get on top of Malice. He locks on a chinlock in a camel clutch-type position. Malice, however, digs down really deep – the sh*t that champions are made of – and gets onto his feet. He holds Vinaldi, who clutches for dear life with the sleeper hold. Malice charges and spins, using Vinaldi’s body to slam the door open! Oh my god! Vinaldi might have cracked ribs after that!

The two men barrel roll into the parking lot, and we finally see the proverbial finish line – the Ambulance. Drake and Malice nearly collapse from the exhaustion that this grueling battle has caused in both men. Blood trickles down the nose of Malice, as Vinaldi’s head is still cut deep and the blood continues to poor intermittently from the gaping hole after that vile chair shot earlier in the bout. The fans are exploding with cheers, trying to rally these two warriors back to their feet. Malice is the first to recover, having used his weight to nearly break The Shooter in half. The Champion looks at his new surroundings, the parking lot with several vehicles, and an ambulance parked several yards away. Malice staggers over to a car, leaning against it for support. He holds his knee, which has taken a bit of a beating after being driven through several objects. Malice looks at Vinaldi with a face of utter disgust and repulsion and begins to sneer, seething angry as he remembers all that Vinaldi has done to him. Malice reaches deep once again to his inner rage, a war chest of emotions, and uses the adrenaline and rage to RIP THE PASSENGER’S SIDE MIRROR OFF THE DOOR OF THE CAR! Malice pulls the wires out and snaps the mirror off. He slams the mirror in the face of Vinaldi, driving him back down to the concrete, and shatters the glass over Drake’s already bloodied and battered face!

Malice screams and begins driving fists into Vinaldi’s head, remembering all the pain and anguish he was caused by this violent human being – and I use that term loosely. The Champ gets up yet again, hobbling over toward another car. He checks the passenger’s side door – locked. He checks the driver’s side door – OPEN! Malice reaches inside and grabs an ice scraper. It is winter in Philadelphia, after all! Vinaldi is slowly getting to his feet, blood streaming down his face, his eyes glazed like two donuts. Malice swings, but Vinaldi somehow ducks under and manages to hit a chop block that sends the wounded champion down to a knee in agony. Malice lets out a yelp, grabbing at his knee, but the tenacious Vinaldi pulls it back and locks on a step over leglock! Malice screams in pain, and Vinaldi doesn’t stop there. He completes the move by applying a facelock to lock on the STF, trying to injure Malice to put him in the ambulance! Neither of these men are going to go down easy!

Vinaldi keeps the hold on for a minute, using the time to recover. Blood trickles down Drake’s wounds and pours on both himself and Malice, who also bleeds. Let’s hope neither of these men having any transmittable diseases, but I’m sure they’d be willing to kill each other if that were the case. Vinaldi finally relinquishes the hold, feeling he’s sufficiently worn down the Champion. Drake fires a vicious soccer kick to the head, a punt if you will, nearly knocking Malice unconscious. He grabs the ice scraper and begins hitting Malice’s back with it! Vinaldi realizes that he would dish out much more pain if he removed the t-shirt, so he tears Malice’s shirt to shreds and begins driving the ice scraper into his back, like a pickaxe! Bright red scrapes can be seen on the back of the Champion as Vinaldi violently WHACKS over and over again, tearing chunks of flesh and busting Malice’s back open, causing blood to ooze from the wounds! The Champion screams with each violent shot and tries to crawl away, but his knee has given out. Vinaldi finally grows weary from the vicious shots and tosses the scraper aside. He locks on a chin lock, pulling on the jaw of the champion. Malice wisely gouges Vinaldi in the eyes to force him to break and then rolls around so he can see Drake. Blood is flowing down the faces of both men, and they’ve been through hell. The referee nearly vomits with horror as he sees the wounds on both combatants’ bodies and faces.

Malice delivers a swift kick to Vinaldi’s groin with his good leg, giving him ample time to return to his feet with the help of the car from earlier. Malice hobbles over to Vinaldi and pulls his nemesis over toward the car. He places Vinaldi’s head in between the car door and the car and holds the door. DIE, YOU SON OF A BITCH! Malice screams and kicks the door shut, but Vinaldi ducks out of the way just in the nick of time! Malice looks on with disappointment as his archrival avoids sheer devastation. Malice opens the door again and screams at Vinaldi to get back here, but the challenger is crawling away. Malice reaches down and places a boot over Drake’s ankle, making sure he can’t go anywhere. Vinaldi looks back with shock and terror, and Malice reaches down. He goes for a waistlock to pull Vinaldi back, but the wily challenger rolls Malice into the Sicilian Grapevine! Oh, the pain, the torque on the knee! Malice is letting out shouts of distress, trying to free himself from the heel hold. Vinaldi is like a pitbull, refusing to let go and trying to permanently injure Malice (as if that hadn’t happened already through the course of this incredibly brutal fight!)

Vinaldi finally lets go, only to drag Malice back by his leg. He places Malice’s foot in the car and uses the seatbelt to tie him up so he can’t escape. Vinaldi walks back over to the car door and grabs it, slamming it repeatedly over the shin and ankle of the Champion! The referee begs and pleads with Vinaldi to stop, but Drake is a madman, absolutely relentless in his attack! Malice screams with pain each time, cursing and desperately trying to escape. Vinaldi, after seven or eight shots, finally stops, grinning and slumping down. Drake’s eyes roll to the back of his bloody head as he almost GETS OFF during this shocking display of violence. What a sick f*ck!

Malice’s leg is absolutely destroyed, and he can barely pull himself from the seatbelt that entrapped him. He winces with pain as he struggles to crawl away. Vinaldi returns to his feet and stalks the champion, who is at the mercy of The Sicilian Shooter. Drake eyes the ambulance and knows he’s about to win the match. Malice crawls on his one good knee, but Vinaldi catches up quickly, showing he has guts and determination that most men could only dream of. He grabs Malice’s leg and delivers an elbow drop to the joint, further damaging the champion’s injured wheel. Vinaldi leaves the Champion momentarily and grabs the door to the ambulance, opening it. He opens the other and pulls the stretcher out. Vinaldi sets the stretcher up outside the ambulance and pats it a few times, grinning sadistically, even cackling at points. Drake looks around for Malice, but there’s no sign of him. Where did he go? Vinaldi continues to try to find the Champion, walking around the ambulance… but there’s no sign of him. However, all of a sudden, he hears a scream, and Malice leaps off the top of the ambulance with a Plancha! HOW THE HELL DID HE GET UP THERE?!

The fans are going crazy in the arena, and Malice takes out Vinaldi with a huge crossbody off the top. How smart was the move, really? Malice may have just blown out his knee after all the damage he’s taken – But that’s how much he hates Vinaldi, and how much he wants to remain champion. THAT’S HOW MUCH THE PWW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MEANS TO THESE TWO MEN – PERMANENT, LIFE-LONG INJURY! Malice is punching Drake on the concrete, trying to inflict punishment even in his severely injured state. The Champion has to pull himself back to his feet by using the ambulance. The driver waits inside for either man to put the other in the ambulance so he can drive away. Malice slowly limps around to the back of the ambulance, where the stretcher was left. He grabs the stretcher and waits on Vinaldi to get to his feet, shoving the other end into Drake’s midsection, causing him to double over and lay his bloodied face on the white cushioning. Malice pulls Vinaldi the rest of the way onto the stretcher and pulls him back toward the ambulance doors. He tries to push Vinaldi and the stretcher inside to win this match, but Drake claws and crawls his way to the other end and delivers a big jab to the eye. Drake rolls off the stretcher, landing with a thud on the concrete. The blinded champion swings wildly, but Drake takes him down with a single leg and begins driving some more punches into Malice’s face.

Vinaldi applies the Sicilian Grapevine yet again! Malice cannot possibly escape this hold, and with each passing second, Vinaldi is inflicting more and more damage and becoming closer and closer to regaining possession of the PWW World Title, and perhaps more importantly, redemption for his losses to Malice earlier this year. Suddenly, the driver of the EMT gets out, wearing a hat and sunglasses. He grabs the stretcher and apparently wants to speed things along—wait a minute. The driver… just reached under the stretcher and grabbed a lock and chain. He shuts the doors to the ambulance and chains them, putting the lock on! What the hell is going on here? Vinaldi doesn’t realize it for a second, but as soon as he sees what the driver is doing, he releases the hold. The driver’s back is to Vinaldi, who spins him around and… Hmm, this driver looks familiar. Vinaldi slowly removes his hat and sunglasses – OH MY GOD… IT’S JAMES SIMPSON! WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?! HE WAS FIRED MONTHS AGO!

Simpson laughs to himself, until he realizes a seething Sicilian Shooter is staring him down. Simpson has come back to get ultimate revenge on Vinaldi and cost him the final match in Pro Wrestling Warriors history! Drake wraps a hand around Simpson’s shirt and is ready to deck him, as James covers up with terror… BUT HE GETS HIT IN THE BACK WITH A STEEL PIPE! Vinaldi goes down to a knee. He gets turned around and… COMES FACE TO FACE WITH KAIMUTSU! THIS IS A DAMN SET UP! Malice lies on the concrete, unconscious from the pain he’s endured and completely ignorant of what is going on. Kaimutsu wraps a hand around Vinaldi and delivers a Chokeslam that crushes the stretcher! The fans in the arena are booing, and no doubt fans watching at home are absolutely LIVID as well! This was supposed to be a one-on-one affair between Malice and Vinaldi, for all the marbles. Instead, Vinaldi is getting his marbles scrambled at the hands of Kaimutsu. Simpson yells at Kaimutsu to bring Vinaldi to the top of the ambulance and Chokeslam him off onto the concrete. Kaimutsu is going to KILL Drake Vinaldi, right here, right now! There’s no way Drake can survive that kind of punishment, not after all he’s been through in this hellacious match!

Kaimutsu carries Vinaldi and lifts him high above his head with a military press, showing his unparalleled power. He throws Vinaldi on top of the ambulance and uses an emergency ladder to climb up. I’m surprised the ladder could support the near 7’6”, 600 pound frame of The Japanese Giant! Kaimutsu gets on top of the ambulance roof, which practically caves due to the weight of this behemoth. Vinaldi is still awake, but barely able to defend himself. He delivers a few shots to Kaimutsu’s midsection, but he can’t get much behind them after the sneak attack. Kaimutsu wraps a hand around Vinaldi’s throat and points to the ceiling… but he suddenly gets hit from behind with a Singapore Cane! What the hell?! Is it Malice?! Kaimutsu is just mildly irritated by the cane shot and releases Vinaldi, who slumps down on top of the ambulance. Kaimutsu turns around… AND TAKES A WICKED CANE SHOT TO THE HEAD! KAIMUTSU FALLS OFF THE AMBULANCE, THROUGH THE STRETCHER! The fans in the arena are going crazy, and slowly but surely, a recognizable figure steps into camera view, standing on top of the ambulance with a Singapore Cane high above his head. It’s The Sandman…

RODERICK BROOKES!​

I never thought I’d be glad to see Roderick Brookes! Mister No Cure For Cancer himself stands on top of the ambulance and looks down at Simpson, who looks like he’s seen a ghost (note: This event takes place before Brookes’ death… foreshadowing, mayhaps?) Simpson runs with terror as Brookes bolts off the ambulance, chasing after James with the Singapore Cane! Meanwhile, Vinaldi is coming to on top of the ambulance, and Malice, who missed the whole damn thing, is finally getting back to his feet as well. The referee is looking on with utter disbelief at what he just witnessed. Malice looks around for Drake but can’t find him, and this time it’s Vinaldi jumping off the top of the ambulance onto an unsuspecting opponent – flying gamengiri kick to the head! Malice is out cold, but Vinaldi isn’t in any better shape! Both men are down on the concrete, suffering the wear and tear of their classic fight! The referee is having a hard time containing himself, even! The referee grabs the lock and chain on the ambulance, but it won’t budge. Simpson did a good job making sure that Vinaldi couldn’t win this match!

Drake slowly rises from the concrete, but Malice gets to his feet and charges forward, spearing Vinaldi into the side of another car! He delivers fists of fury that drop the challenger, and once Vinaldi sits, leaning against the car, Malice drives a series of brutal knees into his face! Blood continues to trickle from the severely injured face of The Sicilian Shooter, and Malice knows now that he must take full advantage. The Champion pops the trunk of the car he just used to decimate his rival and looks inside. Tire iron, spare tire, some spare motor oil… bolt cutters! Bingo! What a lucky son of a bitch Malice is. He uses the cutters to cut the chain that Simpson locked the ambulance with. Vinaldi, however, has other plans. He grabs the tire iron and swings violently, hitting Malice in the back. The lock and chain from the ambulance fall and clang on the parking lot’s floor. Vinaldi stands over his opponent, his heated rival, his arch nemesis, and the PWW World Heavyweight Champion, Malice. He drops the tire iron, which also clangs on the parking lot’s concrete floor. Vinaldi pulls Malice to his feet and tries to roll him inside the ambulance, but Malice drives a few elbows into the stomach of The Shooter.

Malice attempts a backdrop driver, but Vinaldi blocks it with elbows to the back of the head! Drake clinches Malice yet again and drives knees to the head, but Malice remembers his counter from earlier in the bout, driving uppercuts between Vinaldi’s clinch. Malice swings and misses with a wild punch, and Vinaldi hooks him. He’s going for the Backdrop Driver, but Malice blocks it. Vinaldi drives a few forearms into the back of the head… and he’s going for a Dragon Suplex, one of Malice’s favorite maneuvers! Malice breaks the full nelson and grabs Vinaldi’s hands, quickly going behind him and locking on a straitjacket. He puts his foot on Vinaldi’s calf muscle and forces him to drop to his knees. Malice applies a modified version of the Silent Scream, except instead of a Straitjacket Romero Special, it’s a Straitjacket Camel Clutch! Drake kicks wildly, trying to get out, but Malice forces all of his weight on Vinaldi’s back, perhaps trying to weaken him so he can’t hit anymore suplexes or backdrop drivers. Malice lets go when it seems Vinaldi is losing consciousness and grabs him by his hair, slamming his face into the ambulance. Malice grabs the ladder and sets it up against the ambulance. He hits a few shots and lays Vinaldi on the concrete.

Malice points to the top of the ambulance, and it looks like he’s going to hit one of his deadliest trademark maneuvers – The Black Star Press. If Malice can hit this maneuver, Vinaldi will be completely unable to defend himself. Malice climbs the emergency ladder to get on top of the ambulance, but miraculously Drake Vinaldi comes to, sitting up and rolling toward the ladder. Vinaldi climbs the ladder, and Malice tries to block him with a few shots. Malice begins BITING VINALDI on the head, and Drake nearly falls off the ladder, but he delivers a punch to the groin that sends Malice toppling over, lying on top of the ambulance in excruciating pain. Drake climbs all the way on top and grabs Malice around the neck. He pulls him closer… and leaps into the air – SUPER FRANKENSTEINER OFF THE TOP OF THE AMBULANCE ONTO THE CONCRETE BELOW! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T! BOTH MEN ARE UNCONSCIOUS!

The referee nearly sh*ts himself, jumping up and down and calling for medics. EMTs are standing by and they rush to the parking lot. It looks like both of these men may need to go in the ambulance. This match may be thrown out! The EMTs bring extra stretchers and put Vinaldi and Malice on them, side-by-side… but wait! Vinaldi and Malice have come to, and they’re exchanging blows! Even on their proverbial deathbeds, these two men want a piece of each other! They start choking and punching each other and wind up rolling off the stretchers, hitting the ground with a thud. The EMTs flee in horror, not wanting to get in between these two crazy bastards! Malice slowly gets to his feet, staggering over to the ambulance, leaning against it for support. Vinaldi sees his opportunity and charges toward Malice, but the Champion reverses into a sick variation of the Downward Spiral, causing Vinaldi’s head to ricochet off the ambulance with incredible force!

Drake falls to the floor, but Malice drops to a knee, wincing with agony. He pulls Vinaldi up again by his hair and delivers a few punches to the face. He drags Vinaldi back over near the doors of the ambulance and chops him across the chest. Malice tries to roll Vinaldi through the doors and into the vehicle, but Drake blocks it with a couple elbows to the face. Malice applies a cobra clutch, again trying to choke the life out of Vinaldi, but Drake counters – mule kick between the legs! Malice doubles over from the low blow, and Drake snaps off a DDT! Vinaldi and Malice are both down, but the Sicilian Shooter recovers first. Malice is right behind him, reaching his feet after a moment of hesitation. He holds his bloodied head and stares at Vinaldi, who also wears the crimson mask. Drake misses when Malice ducks underneath a high kick, and Malice quickly hooks his arms from behind… The Eradication! No! Vinaldi frees his arms and winds up on the shoulders of Malice, his legs wrapped around his head… Vinaldi flips backwards and drives Malice’s head into the concrete with a POISON RANA~! Malice’s brains are splattered all over the parking lot!

Drake gathers his wits and pulls Malice back to his feet, slowly rolling him on top of one of the stretchers. He delivers a few shots and takes a breather, trying to regain his strength. Malice slowly sits up from the stretcher, but Vinaldi delivers a stiff Killing Blow to the head! Malice lies prone on the bed and is seemingly unconscious – but how many times have we thought one of these men couldn’t continue? Vinaldi grabs the emergency ladder yet again and ascends to the top of the ambulance as quick as possible. What is he going for here? With one final breath, Vinaldi bellows, Arrivederci, cockaroach! and jumps off… LUNATIC HIGH! Vinaldi OBLITERATED Malice with that move, and the stretcher bends in half! Drake uses all of his might to shove the stretcher, pushing it toward the ambulance. He throws Malice into the ambulance and slams both doors shut, failing to the floor in exhaustion!

Winner and NEW PWW World Heavyweight Champion: Drake Vinaldi

The fans in the arena are beside themselves, cheering for an incredible battle between two of PWW’s finest. The referee grabs the world title and tries to help Drake to his feet. Vinaldi holds the World Title, getting up from a knee, and he hears faint yelling… Get him, Drake! Vinaldi turns around and sees Brookes chasing Simpson with the Singapore Cane! Simpson runs as fast as he can… RIGHT INTO A KILLING BLOW FROM DRAKE VINALDI! Simpson falls to the concrete floor, out cold after that violent kick to the face! Brookes grabs the chain off the parking lot floor and wraps it around Simpson’s throat, choking the life out of him. If Simpson weren’t unconscious after that kick, he sure as hell is now! Brookes grabs the chain and begins dragging the lifeless carcass of James Simpson, former PWW President, through the parking lot and back to the arena. Vinaldi holds the world title on his shoulder and walks slowly – though he is in tremendous pain, nothing will stop him from enjoying this moment.

Vinaldi and Brookes walk their property– The PWW World Heavyweight Title and James Simpson’s unconscious body, respectively-- to the ring. The fans are chanting “Shooter!” and “VIN-AL-DI!” There are even a few fans who are happy to see Brookes! Drake rolls into the ring and holds the title for all to see. The fans continue to cheer and chant. Brookes, meanwhile, puts the body of James Simpson in the steel chair next to the guardrails. Simpson leans against the safety rail, clearly out of it. Brookes slaps him a few times in the face to help him regain consciousness. Vinaldi rolls out of the ring, leaving the World Title belt behind. He walks up to Brookes and the two men nod to one another. Vinaldi walks down one of the aisleways, going past the announcer’s table. Brookes walks down the other way, the adjacent side, and the two men stand ready. Simpson slowly looks around him, trying to wake up and view his surroundings. He looks to Brookes, then to Vinaldi… then to Brookes, and then again to Vinaldi, and suddenly he knows what’s coming, but it’s far too late. Brookes and Vinaldi take off like a couple of rockets and DRIVE THEIR BOOTS INTO SIMPSON’S FACE AT THE SAME TIME! DOUBLE OLE KICK! HOLY F*CKING SH*T!

The fans nearly BLOW THE ROOF OFF of the Daskalakis Athletic Center, as after waiting for years to see James Simpson get his comeuppance, he has finally been victimized by Vinaldi and Brookes, the two men against whom he spent the most money and time inflicting mental anguish and physical punishment. But it doesn’t look like they’re done yet. The now bloodied, badly lacerated face of James Simpson thuds on the floor, as he is visibly out cold. Brookes grabs him around his shirt and pulls him closer to the ring. He rolls him inside as Vinaldi enters from the other way. Drake is a little dazed after the incredible battle he waged against Malice, but he has enough strength and heart to climb to the top rope. Brookes flips Simpson off and kicks him in the testicles, doubling him over. He hoists Simpson onto his shoulder for the Church Bombing, and Vinaldi leaps off the top rope, hitting Simpson with the Lunatic High at the same time – STRYCHNINE AND CYANIDE! JESUS GODDAMN CHRIST!

Simpson lies, a bloody, broken mess, and Vinaldi slowly returns to his feet. Drake leers over Simpson, enjoying his handiwork. Meanwhile, Brookes spots the World Title and grabs it. With Vinaldi’s back turned, Brookes holds the title, contemplating for a moment on whether he should return it, keep it, or perhaps use it to inflict damage. He inches forward, ready to destroy Vinaldi, but… he stops. Drake turns around and looks into Brookes’ eyes. The two men slowly move toward the center of the ring, nose to nose, staring down. Brookes says something inaudible to Vinaldi and then steps behind him… and puts the belt around Vinaldi’s waist! For perhaps the first time in his infamous career, Roderick Brookes has shown a shred of dignity and respect! Vinaldi and Brookes shake hands, and Brookes raises Vinaldi’s arm. The locker room empties, with all of the wrestlers, both heel and face, coming out to applaud the final PWW World Heavyweight Champion.

Slick Rick:
Drake Vinaldi has regained his title, gained revenge, and found redemption for years of suffering inflicted by James Simpson! What a way to cap off an extraordinary evening!

Scott the Scoop:
For everybody here at Pro Wrestling Warriors, for all the fans, the production crew, the bookers, the promoters, and most of all, the wrestlers… from the bottom of my heart… thank you for watching “Outburst.” The world isn’t going to be the same without Pro Wrestling Warriors…

We cut away for one last shot of Brookes raising Vinaldi’s hand with all of the wrestlers applauding, many in tears, the closing of one of professional wrestling’s finest companies.

A video montage begins to play to “Afterlife” by Avenged Sevenfold, showing some of PWW’s most memorable moments – The crowning of Kenzo Katana as our first World Champion, the feud between Roderick Brookes and Bruce Bishop, Lance Van Leer coming to PWW, Rob Cavallo coming to PWW, Lance Van Leer feuding with Roderick Brookes and Daniel Shine, Alex Michaels and Tristan Novak’s classic battles, Darius Falcon and The Awakening feuding with Adrian King, Falcon crucifying Johnny Reed, Daniel Shine and Bruce Bishop feuding, AJ Cross finally winning the World Title, the numerous World Heavyweight, World Freestyle, and World Tag Team Champions, and many other moments.

We abruptly cut from the series of memorable moments backstage to the very parking lot in which Drake Vinaldi just defeated Malice for the World Title. A dejected Malice sits, hands over his bloodied face, as he’s being tended to by EMTs. However, the camera catches something in the background and zooms past Malice, showing a limousine that is idling, and Johnny Reed standing outside of it, talking to somebody. The cameraman is able to move closer and pick up some of the audio…

Johnny Reed:
—And that’s all I need, correct? If I find out later these documents are inaccurate, my lawyers will be on you like white on rice, like flies on sh*t--

???:
We understand. Those are indeed the proper documents that your lawyers and ours agreed upon. It was a pleasure doing business with you, and I hope this will be more valuable to you than it was to us.

Johnny Reed:
It’s always been a dream of mine. I never though it would actually be a reality. But after the liquidation process began, I guess you were willing to sell for a reasonable price after all.

???:
Just remember – You’ve acquired the video library and the copyright to all of the trademarks – the logos, the name, the contracts, et cetera – but you don’t have the network time slots. You’ll have to renegotiate with FX! for those.

Johnny Reed:
Not a problem. Once they see what the Big F’N Story is all about, they’ll be begging for our show. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if in a years’ time, CBS came knocking on our door.

???:
Best of luck, Mr. Reed.

The limo drives off as Reed looks over a few documents that are in a brown envelope. The cameraman zooms in and catches glimpse of a PWW logo on the envelope… Does this mean what we think it means? Has Johnny Reed acquired Pro Wrestling Warriors?!

Johnny Reed:
This is going to be an elite wrestling experience… I can already tell.

Reed grins and looks around conspicuously before entering his vehicle. He turns the ignition and drives off as the cameraman zooms back out. The “copyright Pro Wrestling Warriors” information appeals on the bottom of the screen for the very last time… Or is it?