Post by apexstaff on Feb 24, 2023 3:44:51 GMT -5
Thursday Night Riot!
2/23- Manchester, England - AO Arena
(After the opening pyro, the fans are treated to the sweet sound of strings as John Williams’ epic score for the Superman movies kicks in over the speaker system. The PWS world champion Mike Hawk makes his way through the curtain, wearing not only the belt, but also track pants and a white shirt on it that says “Better Than Cleo” in large black lettering. On one arm is a black arm band with “Nic” printed on it. He’s got sunglasses on as he makes his way to the ring.)
Meg Reynolds: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your PWS: Apex WOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRLD CHAAAAMPIIOOOOONNN… MIIIIIIKE HAAAAAAAWWWWWK!
(Hawk struts to the ring, getting in and grabbing a mic. He smirks as his music stops. He looks around at the fans, who are not nearly as mixed as usual, prominently cheering for the champ as he starts pacing around the ring.)
Mike Hawk: Relegated to the opening of the show? I thought this company would start caring about me after I became the world champion, but… hey, I guess old habits die hard, huh?
(He chuckles, giving a comedic shrug as the crowd cheers him on.)
Mike Hawk: No, but in all seriousness, I’m happy to start things off. Hell, I requested to start the show. Gives time for the rest of the show to hype the Nic Powell memorial Rebel Rumble, happening LIVE at Demon’s Run!
(The crowd pops again, and Hawk pats the arm band, taking a moment to lean on the top rope before continuing.)
Mike Hawk: What a great match that’s gonna be, huh? The first one EVER under the Apex banner. 30 people enter, 1 person leaves, and can fight me for the world title. And I say fight ME… because there’s not a chance in HELL that Cleo Phillips is going to beat me at Demon’s Run.
(The crowd gets a bit more mixed.)
Mike Hawk: Because, see… there are a lot of great contenders in this match. There’s… Guy With Face, That Canadian Bastard, Skeleton John’s Fuck Buddy, Alexis Makarios… and every single one of them has a better chance against me than Cleo does!
(Hawk pauses for a moment, giving the crowd a chance to both cheer and boo him.)
Mike Hawk: Because you see… I have a secret weapon. Something that all but guarantees me victory and the chance to fight 1 of 30 different INTENSELY talented men or women at Destiny. And that weapon… is knowledge!
Alfonso Banks: Knowledge? What has that ever done for anyone!?
JR Freeman: Uhh…
Alfonso Banks: Don’t do your homework, kids!
JR Freeman: No, that’s the opposite message, Alf!
(Hawk smirks as he looks out at the crowd, then down the ramp, to the stage.)
Mike Hawk: For example…
(He pulls out a sheet of paper, unfolding it as he clears his throat, then reads aloud.)
Mike Hawk: Cleopatra Gabrielle Phillips. 24. 5 foot 8, 145 pounds. Once punched a kid in high school so hard he had to go to the hospital. Once went joyriding in a stolen car and got away with it because it’s “just what you do” in the ghetto. Once spent 24 hours in a prison cell because you bitch slapped a bartender. These all happened when you were young, so there’s no need to dwell on them, but they all prove one thing, and that is the fact that you’re reckless.
(At this point, Cleo and Z-Money have made their way out and are walking out onto the ramp, Z-Money frantically requesting a microphone.)
Mike Hawk: Yeah, you heard me. You’re impulsive, you can’t control yourself when someone slights you, and that, Cleo, knowing that weakness of yours, is a better weapon than any single move I could possibly hit on you.
(Cleo, getting into the ring, grabs the freshly-acquired mic from Z-Money and talks to Hawk directly.)
Cleo Phillips: So what? You know that at the drop of a hat I could beat your ass and take back my title? That doesn’t matter to me. Because I know you’re tough, I know what you’re capable of. I’m the only one in this company who’s ever shown you the respect you, quite frankly, deserve! And you’re out here squandering it. And why? All you’re doing is cementing even more why I deserve to be the world champion again! And why I need to give 200% when I fight you at Demon’s Run!
Mike Hawk: Ohhh, Cleo… Cleo, my dear, you don’t know what you’re saying. See, you’re only thinking about physicality, but this is more than just a game of who can hit the hardest, who can lock in the most submission holds… at this point, this is a game of wits. And if you’re going to bring 200% in the ring, and wrestle like you’ve never wrestled before, then I need to not only beat you physically… but mentally. And I have just the person to help me do that.
(As Hawk finishes saying that, Big Mo’ jumps the barricade and joins him in the ring.)
Cleo Phillips: …MO!?
Big Mo: Hey, Cleo! Long time no see!
(The crowd is happy to see Big Mo again, and there’s a small pause to let them cheer for the moment.)
JR Freeman: It’s Big Mo!
Alfonso Banks: But where’s Small Larry and Medium Curly?
JR Freeman: Uh…
Alfonso Banks: What about Tiny Shemp, JR!? WHAT ABOUT TINY SHEMP!?
(Hawk breaks the silence, looking over at Mo, then back at Cleo and Z-Money.)
Mike Hawk: I figured I’d give her a call, see if she could give me any juicy gossip about my opponent. She was more than happy to oblige!
Cleo Phillips: Why, Mo!?
Big Mo: Why!? Because you always had to be the center of attention, that’s why. You got way more respect among the crew than I ever did, I fell to the wayside while you went on to be world champ!
Mike Hawk: Ahem… FORMER world champ.
(Hawk pats the belt.)
Cleo Phillips: Mo, I…
Big Mo: Save it, Cleo. As long as Z’s with you, there’s no way we’re making up.
Mike Hawk: Oh, and speaking of people never being able to make up… I’m sorry about your loss, Cleo!
Cleo Phillips: …Seriously?
Mike Hawk: Of course! I’m dead serious! Though now I’m thinking… maybe I should call you Romeo… ‘cause you’re one Juliet short.
(At this line, Cleo slaps Hawk across the face, knocking the mic out of his hand and getting nose to nose with the champ. Z-Money walks up to Big Mo, getting nose to nose with her. Cleo brings the mic up to her face one more time, glaring at Mike as she speaks.)
Cleo Phillips: Well, Mike… if your goal was to piss me off, you’ve succeeded. But I’ll save my aggression for the ring. I’ll see you at Demon’s Run.
(She drops the mic, walking out of the ring. She notices Z-Money isn’t moving, so she grabs him by the shirt and he follows her, as “Gangsta’s Paradise” plays. Hawk shrugs, giving a fist bump to Big Mo, as the camera then cuts to the announce table.)
JR Freeman: Well folks, tonight we have a great show for you! Join us next as El Landerson is in action!
Singles Match
El Landerson vs Moondust
(The camera cuts to the ring, where Moondust is already in the ring. “Booyaka 619” starts playing, but the patriarchal Landerson is nowhere to be found.)
Meg Reynolds: The following contest is -
(She’s suddenly cut off by Landerson flying through the curtain, with Damien Calaway in hot pursuit. He follows the luchador and picks him up by the tights and mask, throwing him into the stage.)
Alfonso Banks: Well THIS wasn’t planned!
JR Freeman: Thanks Alf, glad you’re here.
Alfonso Banks: Hey, y’know what, JR? I’m trying my best here, okay?
(Damien continues beating down Landerson, mounting him and hitting him with strong lefts and rights. Occasionally he’ll lift Landerson’s head up before slamming it down to the ground with a high amount of force. Dismounting the near-unconscious man, he walks to the ring, going underneath and grabbing a chair.)
JR Freeman: Oh no… what’s he thinking!?
(Getting a sadistic grin on his face, Damien hits Landerson with the chair, directly to the back of the head! Lifting the chair again, he brings it back down across the mask of the Californian.)
JR Freeman: Oh, Dios Mio!
Alfonso Banks: Well, he certainly takes after his sister! Or his sister takes after him? I’m not sure which one of them is older.
(4 more chair shots to the head later and EMTs have finally come to Landerson’s aid. Aaliyah runs out too, checking on her father as he’s loaded onto a stretcher. Damien watches her with malice in his eyes, and an evil grin still plastered on his face.)
JR Freeman: What is wrong with this man!?
Alfonso Banks: I think he just wants to cause as much destruction as possible!
WINNER= MATCH THROWN OUT
(The cameras cut to the back where Carmen Fernandez is standing.)
Carmen Fernandez: Hello, PWS Family! As we approach Demon’s Run, I just wanted to take a moment to discuss some of the people who have so far declared the Nic Powell Memorial Rebel Rumble. So far we can confirm that Alexis Makarios, Devon Ryder, Chaz Holiday, Corey Bull, and Chris Page have entered the rumble. I am also receiving word that PWS:APEX Co-Owner David Shane has taken to social media to announce himself in the Rumble.
(Carmen was cut off by a loud belch. She turned to see Miss Puppies standing there, can of beer in hand)
Miss Puppies: You’re forgetting one very important name.
(Carmen thinks for a second)
Carmen Fernandez: Uh… I don't think so?
Miss Puppies: Me. I’m entering the rumble, and I’m gonna win it. Bet on it.
(She let another belch as she walked off. Carmen looked disgusted as the cameras cut)
(Earlier that evening, Jack Russow arrives backstage as he pulls his shades down to the bridge of his nose and starts stumbling around like an idiot mumbling things we can’t hear as he finally hop-steps to resume the swag he usually wanders around with as he pushes his shades back up over his eyes as he bounds down the Hall towards the dressing rooms. He opens the door to the men’s dressing room and he can feel all eyes upon him. Some were laughing while they talked shit…others looked pissed because they felt a Russow wannabe was coming for their spot…and they were just plain jealous sneering at him from behind their hand-covered mouths. He finally finds the spot where he had left his personal effects while he went to get a bite of catering…and there he finds his bag unzipped and every piece of clothing and gear he had…shredded and thrown in the shower. He pulls the shades back down to look over the top of them as he closes his eyes and exhales as a voice rings out from behind him…)
“We don’t want silver spooned pussies like you in here, Boy.’
(The others start shouting in agreement as Jack’s breathing remained steady…steady…FUCK IT, CUT THE CORD! Jack whips around tearing the shades off his face preparing to throw down with anyone in his way but he finds that they’ve all stopped…they’ve shut up and they are all standing respectfully by their lockers…because Jack Russow had just whipped around and immediately found himself face to face with his father…The Iceman Levi Russow. Levi holds up a finger to Jack’s face telling him to give him a moment as he turns around and with that same finger…he motions to the two sneering hecklers to come hither. They suddenly look mortified as they stand like children in front of him.)
Levi Russow: No please…don’t stop on MY behalf…you were referring to a “Boy” and something about a silver spoon?
Mistake Number One: W-We’re sorry sir…we just-
Mistake Number Two: It was just nerves was all! I’m sure he’s a great guy it’s just…
Mistake Number One: Well…well thing is sir…we’ve been, well…you know!
The Iceman Levi Russow: I do. But why don’t you go ahead and let me hear you say this next part out loud.
Mistake Number Two: We just don’t, respectfully sir, we don’t think he’s paid his du-
The Iceman Levi Russow: GET…THE FUCK…OUT OF THIS ARENA.
Mistake Number One: WOAH WOAH WAIT! WAIT, SIR!
Mistake Number Two: WE’RE SORRY! WE’VE BEEN FIGHTIN’ FOR THIS KINDA SHOT FOR TEN YEARS!
The Iceman Levi Russow: You’ve been together in THIS business…TEN years?
Mistake Number One: Y-Yessir!
The Iceman Levi Russow: And instead of living up to your sterling reputations as locker room leaders, you would dare come into MINE before you’re even SEEN in your tryout and vandalize and try to ridicule THE SON OF THE MAN WHO WOULD HIRE YOU!?
Mistake Number Two: A-A-And we’ll pay for that! Please sir! We just…thought it would get us in with the boys! They were talkin’ about how he ain’t done nothin’ for this title match and we just…we got lost in the moment!
The Iceman Levi Russow: You wanna see how far your little attack on my son ACTUALLY got you with this locker room?
Mistake Number One: Wh-...What?
The Iceman Levi Russow: IF YOU ARE IN *THIS* LOCKER ROOM WITH A SIGNED PWS: APEX CONTRACT YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET THESE PIECES OF SHIT OUTTA MY SIGHT!
…ONE!
“HEY WAI-WOAH! WOAH! AHHHH!”
(As a loud crash can be heard out in the hallway, Levi turns on his heel and summons Jack to join him. Jack dejectedly drops his soaking wet luggage back to the floor as he grabs a towel wiping his hands off as he follows his father out the door and down the hallway like an embarrassed little kid.)
The Iceman Levi Russow: …was that all your gear?
Jack Russow: It was all I had packed…I guess it’s lucky I only had two pairs huh?
The Iceman Levi Russow: I’m sorry about that, son…here.
(They approach a room marked “PRIVATE” and as Levi pushes open the door, we see various members of The Family sitting around as Jack exhales looking at his beautiful wife and his mother playing with the twins.)
Emma Russow: Jack, darling, where’s your luggage?
Jack Russow; It uh…
The Iceman Levi Russow It got…misplaced.
Emma Russow: …how so?
Jack Russow: I uhh…I tried to show respect to the roster and change…with the boys. While I was getting stretched out a couple nobodies ripped all my gear up and threw it in the shower.
Emma Russow: What were you thinking!?
Jack Russow: I just thought…if they saw I saw myself as on the same level as them…people would start warming up to my return and maybe…y’know…respect me!
The Iceman Levi Russow: Right…right…”I don’t wanna be the child of Levi Russow”, I get it.
Jack Russow: Dad, no, it’s not…not when you say it like THAT.
The Iceman Levi Russow: It’s fine, Jack! I want you to be your own man! All I’ve ever done is given you every chance you’ve dreamed of taking, you chose what they were though! Look at your family! You think…you think I know the first thing about being a good father? A good HUSBAND? You figured that out all on your own…and you’re raising not one but TWO toddlers absolutely beautifully with a third little one on the way. You married a girl I couldn’t have drawn up on a computer to fit you better. You’ve faced adversity and you kicked the shit out of it! Most men would have folded and stayed down and out of this world after what Slaps did to you but here you stand! And that’s exactly what you DON’T understand…I don’t want you living in my shadow, son.. I want you casting your own by my side! By your Uncle's sides!
Jack Russow: Dad…you know I love this family…MY Family…more than anything else in this world. I was wrong…I had a bad attitude and I took it out on you. I was running away from legacy…what I thought, at the time, was just YOUR legacy. Turns out I was running away from my FAMILY…I was RUNNING from my name, OUR name! I’m…I’m ready, Pop.
The Iceman Levi Russow: Good. Do not take these accommodations for granted but also don’t let them find you slacked. It is OKAY to live your best life like this…the guys in the locker room are never gonna like you because of where you come from, what I’ve done, whatever pissant bullshit they’re gonna say about us…but here’s the beautiful part! WE don’t even have to HEAR from literally any of them. One gets close to getting over big and trying to nip at our heels but they’ve always been snuffed out. They want…what you have.
Jack Russow: A trust fund?
The Iceman Levi Russow: A lineage…Traditions…Happiness…the It factor! You ARE entitled to feel entitled because when it comes down to it…we’re the BEST. We LIVE on an elevated level. Titles or not, WE put the asses in the seats. You think those fuckin’ sideshow freaks are ever gonna be remembered for anything? You think any of those Collateral Damage champions…will EVER amount to one INCH of Mack McKane? The man held that title so long that HE created option C! So even my ADOPTED kids have been un-fucking-stoppable. But here’s what I needed to talk to ya about Jack.
(Levi limps over and takes a present handed to him by Emma. He turns around and presents it to Jack.)
The Iceman Levi Russow: I was going to save these for your title win but given the state of your luggage…I think you need it now.
(Jack takes it and tears the paper off, popping open the box, placing it on a table and pulling out new Levi Russow style gear…in Purple, Black, White, and Silver colors. A Shamrock wrapped in the thorns of a Wild Irish Rosebush was prominent on the left thigh as the right thigh had a large purple flannel patch punk rock style sewn into it. The material was a smooth matte feeling with solid pads in the guardable positions. Jack held them up to his waist and he looked at his father in disbelief.)
Jack Russow: Dad…these are wicked! But why are they in your style?
The Iceman Levi Russow: They’re not…not COMPLETELY…yes I padded the areas that have helped me take some hellacious shit over the years but this color scheme is yours, the Shamrock in the Rosebush logo so you always have your Wild Irish Rose with you. Swirling icicles cross from the bottom of the kickpads flowing all the way up to the waist but turning from ice to an illusion of steel supports. It’s as Cyberpunk Rockstar as I could think to make it.
Jack Russow: …ummm…Mattie made these…right?
The Iceman Levi Russow: Who else would have thought of that symbol but the calculated mind of one Ms. Matilda Cormier.
“OI! Don’t let her catch you sayin’ the M word or we’ll ALL be donezo, innit!?”
(Turning and looking back at the doorway we see it standing open and Mack McKane digging the dirt from under his fingernails with his newest “Sweetie”.)
Jack Russow: Well now…how the Hell are YOU?
(Jack walks ups and clasps wrists with Mack and giving a quick bro hug as they pull away and Mack looks around paranoid before nodding his head and walking into the room, respectfully tipping his cap to the ladies and the most horrifying baby talk you’ve ever heard to the twins as he stands up and saunters over with the swag only a madcap shambleton could accrue from a lifetime of self-indulgent lucidity as he picks up Jack’s new gear and looks it over.)
Mack McKane: Fookin’ Hell my girl’s the most talented muse in any fookin’ game she chooses to play, innit? CRACKIN’ hot threads, Lad. Oh…almost forgot!
(Mack opens his trenchcoat and produces another gift wrapped parcel, this one in less of a box shape and more of a lumpy material shape. Jack looks bewildered.)
Jack Russow: What’s THIS now?
Mack McKane: It’s yer ticket, boy-o. Welcome back to the show!
(The fans in the arena can be heard popping throughout this entire segment but that line makes them start smacking the barricades and shaking the rafters as Jack starts to unwrap it while Mack fistbumps Levi gently because his arm is still in a brace from The Blood Box.)
The Iceman Levi Russow: We figure if you were gonna do your own thing? You better have a hook to bring ‘em in. I was The Iceman…my fans are the Island of Misfit Toys…our battle cry was "BANGARANG!!!” and I never…backed…down.
Mack McKane: I got lucky…The Freekz chose ME to lead ‘em. Before that, I was a lonely bloodletter without a care in the world. I wanted someone, ANYONE…to suffer as I had suffered. I was adrift…drowning….until HIM. After I met Him and he started taking care of me…he started bouncing ideas off of me and i’d bounce ideas offa him.
Jack Russow: Ahhh…so THAT’s why you’re back.
Mack McKane: Nevermind that. What’cha got there?
(Jack was so enamored listening to them speak he wasn’t cognitive enough to continue working his hands as he finally unveils a wicked looking half denim, half leather trenchcoat with the same swirling color scheme and on the back, embroidered in steel rivets the words “The Punk That Was Promised” shined in the light. Jack looks at his dad incredulously.)
Jack Russow: …you always said you hated that nickname.
The iceman Levi Russow: Honestly? Just cause its cool and I’m jealous i didn’t think of it first.
Jack Russow: …well thanks for admitting that NOW at least.
The Iceman Levi Russow: There’s one more good news, bad news type of deal.
Jack Russow: …whhhhhat happened.
The Iceman Levi Russow: …we are no longer allowed to use any A Day To Remember songs in any of our projects…
Jack Russow: …I LOST ‘ALL I WANT”!?
The Iceman Levi Russow: It’s not as bad as it seems…
Jack Russow: Keep your hopes UP HIGH…and your head DOWN LOW…the fans, they loved to scream that with me! It made me feel like the fans and I were an army!
The Iceman Levi Russow: Son…I’d been wanting to talk to you about something for awhile now. I know…how important the music side of this business is to you. I know how much you connect to a lyric or a message. You feel that represents YOU…I get it. So much that…this actually kinda hurts.
(Levi walks up to Jack and puts his hands on his shoulders.)
The Iceman Levi Russow: The doctors have told me…I’m done. I can’t keep up the fight anymore. I need a spinal fusion. Sometimes I just lose all power to my right arm…it just goes numb and I struggle to make my brain move it but the thoughts are all mush. So they’re gonna check my brain out too. I didn’t…wanna worry ya with all that’s going on.
Jack Russow: Why didn’t you say something!?
The Iceman Levi Russow; It’s not my place to worry my family with problems I brought upon myself living this way. And God willing, there will come a day when you start to feel your age in your joints and your hips and everything fucking HURTS but you CAN’T walk away. Because you LOVE it too much. There is one more present I can give you…but when I do, I hope you understand the magnitude of this. Moment.
Jack Russow: ……
The Iceman Levi Russow: Jack I would be honored…if you would cross this off your bucket list…and use this.
(Levi produces a jump drive with a tag on it that says “Custom Ent. Track 2. “True Believers” by Bouncing Souls” on it. Jack looks shellshocked in disbelief.)
Jack Russow: Dad…this is your song!
The Iceman Levi Russow: It’s got all the bells and whistles on it already…y’know…the quarter drop and the one up and 18-Bit Stan Lee exclaiming “EXCELSIOR!” before an atomic punk anthem blasts your fuckin’ face off into the fourth row as the moshers rain down like acid in the jungle! And it-...It…It’s just a REALLY COOL SONG.
Jack Russow: This is my favorite entrance theme. Not because it was my Dad’s…but because of my love of music, punk, energy, and love. Imma use this with honor…thank you, Dad!
(Jack and Levi embrace as Levi touches Jack’s face gently.)
The Iceman Levi Russow: …you have facial hair…I’ll never get fuckin’ used to that…consider the torch…passed. Now I gotta run, kiddo.
Mack McKane: Th’fuck? Where YOU gotta be?
The Iceman Levi Russow: There’s a…there’s a promise I got to keep. And you! What are YOU even doing here!?
Mack McKane: …I got a promise of my own to keep.
(Levi nods in respect as he walks out of the room leaving Mack and Jack to gush over Jack’s new gear as we switch to the next match or commercial break.)
(We cut backstage, where we see Star Stormz sitting in her office, as there is a knock on the door.)
Star Stormz: It’s open.
(The door opens, and in walks Heather Haze, chewing her gum vigorously.)
Heather: 'Ello gov'nor.
(Heather smiles sheepishly, planting her butt right on top of the desk as Star looks up from her desk, looking obviously annoyed.)
Star Stormz: Heather. I'm surprised you showed up.
(Heather rolled her eyes, Her mouth making smacking sounds with the bright pink gum between her teeth.)
Heather: Well, I'm full of surprises. So how about that reinstatement letter or putting me in that Rebel Rumble? We can call it Even Stevens for all the mental and emotional anguish you caused me last year.
(Star raises her eyebrow)
Star Stormz: Excuse me? You physically assaulted a member of our staff. You're lucky that Max and I gave you a suspension and didn't fire you on the spot for your actions.
Heather: THAT idiot referee had it coming for screwing me. I can't believe you'd take his side over mine!
(Star mumbles something, looking very annoyed as she pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.)
Star Stormz: Very well, Heather. I will put you in the Rebel Rumble...ONLY on one condition.
Heather Haze: Anything. You name it. I will do it. Anything!
Star Stormz: You will have to complete a formal psyche evaluation with Doctor Fischer.
Heather: What? That is so unfair! I'm TOTALLY sane!😲
Star Stormz: It's company policy. Alexis and Mack both had to do a session before their return back to PWS APEX.
(Heather glared at Star coldly and then hung her head in defeat.)
Heather: Fiinnneeee. But before I hop on a flight to see that Quack I have a little something to give you. Just to show you that there are no hard feelings between us.
(Heather fishes through her purse and then pulls out a box wrapped in ribbon. She gives it to Star who looks dumbfounded.)
Star Stormz: What's this?
Heather Haze: Pftt I'm not gonna tell you. That will be like defeating the whole purpose of my alms giving.
(Star shifts in her seat uncomfortably as she inspects the box like it was some explosives.)
Heather: Jesus F'n Christ...It's not a bomb or anything. Just open it, silly.
(Star goes ahead and slowly opens the box, unwrapping the paper first and then the ribbon. Inside the box was a long, slender dildo as Star holds the device in her hands with a disgusted look on her face.)
Heather: So...you likey??
Star Stormz: Get out of my office.
Heather: I'll be more than happy to show you how it works.
Star Stormz: Get. Out.
(We cut back to ringside.)
Singles Match
Eddie Lopez Jr. vs Shawn Young
(As the bell rings, Shawn Taylor gets the upper hand on Eddie Lopez Jr by a surprise attack. Taylor has Eddie back into the corner for a moment but Eddie Jr starts to fight back. But Taylor rams his shoulder into the stomach of Eddie Jr to stop the comeback. Taylor is proud of himself after the attack after the bell ring and taunts a bit. As he taunts, Eddie Jr explodes from the corner and hits a clothesline that spins Taylor around like a tornado!
JR Freeman: Oh god! Shawn twisted around like a helicopter there.
Alfonso Banks: I think this will be a long night for Shawn Taylor…
(After both men get up, Shawn Taylor tries to throw a punch toward Eddie Jr, but it gets blocked. Eddie Jr quickly swings the match back in his favor. As the match moves on, Eddie Jr starts to show everyone why he got signed, his strength as he throws Shawn Taylor around.)
Jr Freeman: Eddie Jr is starting to dominate this match
Alfonso Banks: Of course he is.
(As the match comes to a close with it being and forth, Eddie Jr starts to dominate Shawn Taylor before hitting the Latino Heartbreak quickly followed by the family tradition, before he slithers across Shawn like a snake.)
1……….
2……..
3!
George Sullivan: Big win here for the younger Lopez member, maybe he’s on the right track.
Alfonso Banks: Hard to say but I’m impressed by him, just like how I was impressed with him in his debut. I do see big things from him, i think he’s gonna be the next star in that family if he keeps impression people.
WINNER= EDDIE LOPEZ JR.
(Alexandra had been backstage stretching out before her match, it was still early in the show, having just spoken with her brother, she was just taking a few moments to herself. Away from Anti-Thesis.)
Alexandra Sanders: I can feel you looking at me.
(She didn’t even turn around, but she could still feel the person’s gaze on her.)
Alexandra Sanders: Did you have something you wanted to say?
(The cameras turn to show Richard Rider in… rare form one could say. He was wearing his wrestling gear and his overly flashy jacket that was open to show off his finely tuned, and well oiled, abs. His hair flowed perfectly as he leaned on the wall staring at her.)
Richard Rider: Well, hello there Miss Calaway.
Alexandra Sanders: Mr. Rider, how are you? It’s good to see you still standing. For now.
(He looked around, a bit paranoid, as he gauged his surroundings.)
Richard Rider: Oh, how'd you know my plans?
(He chuckled in what he thought was a seductive way, but it was actually more creepy and cringey.)
Richard Rider: So… no Mr Calaway today?
Alexandra Sanders: Mr Calaway? You make that sound so dirty.
(She shook her head.)
Alexandra Sanders: I heard what you said by the way. Calling me hot.. I'm pretty sure that's a death wish. You got some real thrill issues there Hollywood.
Richard Rider: What can I say… I'm a daredevil and a thrill seeker. So uh… wanna go out to dinner with a Hollywood A-lister after I beat your brother?
(He attempted to smolder but just looked… like he was trying to fart or something. She patted him on the head.)
Alexandra Sanders: You do know I’m married right? Yeah. To Jonathan Sanders.
Richard Rider: I mean… tell me that Mr Emo can fulfill all your… needs…
(Rider put his hands on a table nearby trying to lean forward but his hands slipped and he instead face-planted to the floor with a loud THUD. Alexandra tried to not laugh, placing her hand on her chest, the other over her mouth to cover her laugh.)
Alexandra Sanders: Are you alright Richard?
Richard Rider: Uh… yeah…
(He hopped up to his feet as quickly as he could, trying to make it look on purpose.)
Richard Rider: Looks like I'm already… falling… for you.
Alexandra Sanders: Smooth. Did you forget what I did to you in the ring? I hurt you simply because I wanted to prove a point. What? Do you like, have a pain kink or something?
(She looks utterly confused and worried for Rider’s mental health.)
Richard Rider: Don't judge the lengths a man is willing to go through for a smoking hot lady like yourself. So come on, one dinner date, one sexy beast to another.
Alexandra Sanders: Smoking hot lady huh? You are really trying aren't you?
Richard Rider: The best things are worth working for. So… what do ya say?
(She chuckled softly, reaching up to brush his hair back from his ear getting super close.)
Alexandra Sanders: And what's in it for me huh?
Richard Rider: Well, besides a free meal and amazing company, wouldn't it be nice to be involved with someone who is… well… on the same level as you? Let's face it… Emo Bitch Boy is sooooo far beneath you. You deserve to be wined and dined, shown off like the beautiful blooming flower that you are. And a Hollywood A-Lister such as myself can provide that to you. Anything else that should happen well… that's just dessert, baby. Or breakfast that day… IF you know what I mean.
(He bounced his eyebrows, "hinting". He then tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear and leaned in slowly. He stopped mere inches away from her face when he heard a sound behind him. He turned to see a camera very intently watching them.)
Richard Rider: Till next time, beautiful
(He then leaned back away from her and started to walk off. He made sure to "fluff" his jacket to show off his butt as he walked away. 5 steps down the hall and he stumbled over his own feet, caught himself, and kept going without a word.)
Singles Match
Damien Calaway vs Richard Rider
(The match begins with Calaway on top, dominating the comparatively small man with chokes and knife edge chops. Rider attempts a comeback but is promptly denied. Damien uses his weight advantage to body the Hollywood man as he grabs him by the hair and throws him over the top rope, following him with a suicide dive!)
JR Freeman: Remember, Alf, we saw this guy lay out El Landerson earlier in the night!
Alfonso Banks: That we did, JR, and that was brutal!
JR Freeman: Well, he’s certainly showing off his brutality in this contest as well!
(Damien proves JR right by doing several moves onto the audience barricade, before getting Rider back in the ring, following him in as the count reaches 7. Picking Rider up, Calaway does several more power moves, kicking him in the back of the head, biting, anything and everything he can do to cause more violence. Soon, though, Rider finds an opening and takes it, blatantly poking Damien in the eyes while the referee isn’t looking! He then gets a second wind, using his speed to his advantage, even managing to knock Damien off his feet!)
JR Freeman: This is huge! If he can capitalize, Rider could win!
(Rider, ecstatic, lifts Damien up, looking for I’d Like to Thank the Academy, but he’s pushed into the ropes and hit with a lariat for his efforts! He stands up, straight into Sorrow in Solitude! Damien goes for the cover…)
ONE!
TWO!
THR- No, Rider gets a foot on the ropes!
(Damien grabs Rider by the hair, pulling him up, before hitting a few more moves on him, basically resulting in a beatdown, before hitting him at last with Deadman’s Hand, sending the Hollywood “star” to the mat. Calaway pins him again.)
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
(The bell rings and Calaway doesn’t stop the assault, continuing to beat on poor Richard Rider even after the match is fully over.)
Meg Reynolds: Here is your winner, Damien Calaway!
(He beats on Rider some more, even heading out of the ring to get a chair!)
JR Freeman: Oh no, is he going to do the same thing to Richard Rider that he did to El Landerson!?
Alfonso Banks: Yes, that… horrible thing, that I… definitely remember?
JR Freeman: He hit him in the back of the head with a chair, like, 6 times!
Alfonso Banks: Of course he did, I definitely remember that that happened!
(Damien slides back into the ring, where EMTs are already in and checking on Rider. He pushes a few of them out of the way, battering Rider again and again with the chair before they’re finally able to pull the unconscious man away from him and onto an awaiting stretcher.)
JR Freeman: My god, this man’s a monster!
Alfonso Banks: Well yeah, look at who his family is, they’re like the Addams Family, except actually terrifying!
JR Freeman: Well put… I think.
Alfonso Banks: I’m getting better, at least.
WINNER= DAMIEN CALAWAY
(Carmen was standing in catering, pouring herself a glass of water. She turned around to see Candy standing there.)
Carmen Rodriguez: Why in the hell are you here? After you tried to blind me? Get away from me stalker.
Candy: What? I just wanted to say that our match last week was super fun! I didn't try to blind you, it's just glitter. And glitter is harmless! It's pretty! EVERYONE loves glitter! So I was thinking…
Carmen Rodriguez: Thinking what?
(She glared at her.)
Candy: I was thinking that we worked so well together we could totally be a team when they bring back the Tag Team Titles! That'd be soooooo fun! We can have a cool team name, and I can make us matching glittery shirts! What do you think!?! We can be BESTIES! OMG TEAM BFF4L!
(Candy takes the first breath of that entire rambling moment. Carmen puts a finger to Candy's lips.)
Carmen Rodriguez: Never going to happen.
(She speaks each word slowly, making sure to emphasize each one.)
Candy: Never say never! Malachi was a grumpy man and he became a bestie. I believe you can too!
Carmen Rodriguez: I’m not Malachi. I’m not a grumpy old man looking to get into a woman’s bed. I’m me. A woman who ISN’T afraid to go the distance. And the next time we meet in the ring, I’m going to make you EAT that glitter.
(Carmen glared at her.)
Candy: EDIBLE GLITTER!?! THATS GENIUS!!! See? We already bring out the best in each other!
Carmen Rodriguez: What makes you think I want to be friends with you? You know what.. Let’s have a.. GLITTERBOMB match. You want to play.. Let’s do this.
Candy: GLITTERBOMB MATCHES ARE SO MUCH FUN!!! Can we make it for your title tho? Cuz that'd be truly GLITTER-IFIC!
Carmen Rodriguez: You know what, sure. It can be for my title. What do you say?
(Carmen extends her hand to Candy, who jumps for joy excitedly before shaking the champion's hand.)
Candy: DEAL! And when I win… you gotta be my BESTIE! We can do arts and crafts, go out to eat, play with my puppies and my baby… OH WE CAN GO GET OUR FACES PAINTED TO MATCH AND EVERYTHING!!!!
(Carmen rolled her eyes.)
Carmen Rodriguez: Fine so be it. That seems amiable. If I lose, I'll be your bestie. But I can promise it won't be easy to beat me.
Candy: YAY I GOTTA GO MAKE THE GLITTER BOMBS! BYE FUTURE BESTIE!!!!
(Candy then proceeded to happily skip away without a care in the world.he world. Carmen cringed at the thought of having to be best friends with someone so perky and happy. She was going to have to go above and beyond for this one.)
(The scene switches to a fire crackling in a fireplace. As the camera pans back a bit we see Gracie sitting in a chair with skiing equipment on. Which means she didn’t mean the trip to the UK this time around.)
Gracie Lopez: Hi! Alright, that’s about all of the introduction I’m gonna do, you guys know who I am…..
(The crowd in the arena watching the screen start chanting her name.)
Gracie Lopez: As you can tell I’m not in Manchester, England. Now, while I wanted to be there and see my brother kick some ass, I had other things that I needed to take care of and I needed some alone time before the battle with Jack.
(Gracie took a sip from the cup she was holding.)
Gracie Lopez: Now, just because I’m on a mini vacation doesn’t mean I’m not training for Jack because I am. I respect him too damn much to just phone it in and half-ass this match. Over the 7 years that I’ve been active, I’ve had a lot of high-profile matches, from the world title to the women’s title, to tag titles, facing Jenn to facing my own father. But none of it compares to what I’m about to step into. I could go in-depth with everything but I’ll save that for a later date…
(Gracie smiles a bit, she knows stuff about Jack that others don’t. But that’s because they grew up together and were friends most of their lives.)
Gracie: With that being said, nothing is going to stop me from heading into that match. Not the weather, not the ice storm, not my personal demons. I’ve been waiting for this match for a long ass time and I refuse to let anything get in my way! So Jack, I know you’re somewhere hearing this or watching this, but you and I will tear this shit down! So I’ll see you soon bud.
(The scene slowly zooms into the fireplace once again.)
Fuck the Luck of the Draw match
Winner comes out last in rumble, loser comes out first
Alexis Makarios vs Devon Ryder
(This one begins while both competitors are in the ring, having finished their entrances. The referee goes over the rules, then the pair begin to circle each other as the bell rings. Things begin slowly, with the pair locking up and jockeying for position, then breaking away, then locking up again - really feeling each other out, trying to get a feel for what the pace will be in this early stage.)
JR Freeman: Folks, this one oughta be a hell of a fight; Lexi and Devon BOTH have quite a lot to prove tonight - to themselves AND to each other!
Alfonso Banks: Damn right they do, JR, and I’m looking forward to seeing them do it!
(He won’t have to wait long, as pretty soon into this slow-paced exchange, Devon steps forward to signal a Test of Strength.)
Devon Ryder: Wrestle me, Lexi!
(As she accepts the challenge, the Canadian Hero takes control in the early-going, using his suplex acumen and technical skill to keep Alexis on the ground and wear down her right leg. This is the limb he targets for most of the match, focusing on it with submission holds and stiff, directed strikes to try to cut off Lexi’s speed advantage. She’s no slouch when it comes to fighting through pain herself, though, so at one point she gets out of the “True North” single-leg Boston Crab by pushing herself up with both hands and hand-walking to the rope, to a MASSIVE chorus of cheers from the fans.)
JR Freeman: The crowd is very much behind Alexis Makarios tonight - they really want to see her enter at #30!
Alfonso Banks: Can you blame them, JR? Frankly, after everything Lexi’s BEEN through lately, she kind of NEEDS a lucky break.
(Alexis manages to capitalize after this moment and, for a while, things shift in her favour. She fights through the pain in her leg to take the offensive to Ryder, using her speed and smaller size to her advantage to strike and retreat, but manages a pretty impressive pop when she Superplexes him for a close two-count. The pair continue to trade the advantage back and forth now, with neither being clearly dominant over the other in any significant way, until finally they wind up on the outside, after Lexi slips out of a Strong and Free attempt to dropkick Ryder in the back, sending him through the ropes. The pair fight around ringside for a long time, using things like the ring steps and timekeeper’s table to their advantage. Lexi grabs anything and everything she can get her hands on that won’t get her disqualified, but the tables turn when Ryder manages to lock in an audience barricade-assisted kneebar. The pair continues their outside brawl, the toll beginning to show on both competitors, as the referee’s count nears its end…)
6…
7…
JR Freeman: They’d better hustle, or we might see this end in a draw!
Alfonso Banks: What the hell happens THEN?!
JR Freeman: How would I POSSIBLY know that, Alf?
Alfonso Banks: I mean… you could Google it?
8…
(At this moment, the pair - currently trading blows in a collar-and-elbow tie-up - realize the count is ending and rush for the ring.)
9…
(At the last moment, however, Ryder seems to get an idea, and he stops dead in his tracks, letting Alexis slide back into the ring.)
10! Ring the bell!
Alfonso Banks: What the- what is Ryder THINKING?! He just cost himself the match!
JR Freeman: Look at his face, Alf! I think this is exactly what he wanted!
(Indeed, as we cut back to the ring - where a VERY confused Lexi stands arguing with the referee who’s trying to raise her hand, we can see Devon wearing a massive, arrogant grin. He locks eyes with Alexis and shrugs, tapping the side of his head three times.)
MEG REYNOLDS: Here is your winner, entering NUMBER 30 in the REBEL RUMBLE; “The Aussie Firecracker”, ALEXIIIIIIIS MAAAAAAKAAAAARIOOOOOOOS!
WINNER= ALEXIS MAKARIOS
(As Ryder begins to walk to the back, and Halestorm’s “Mz Hyde” kicks in over the speakers, Alexis just GLARES at the Canadian Hero. She hits the ropes and starts pointing at him, shouting at him to “Get back in the ring and finish the damn match!” and calling him every name in the book, but Ryder simply continues grinning, then gives Lexi a mocking little bow and a wave as he slips behind the curtain.)
JR Freeman: Wow, Alf, I have NEVER seen this look on the face of Alexis Makarios before…
Alfonso Banks: I have, JR, but only in my disgusting sexual fantasie-I MEAN, UH, WHEN SHE WAS FIGHTING COREY BULL! Yeah, that’s when. And ONLY THEN!
JR Freeman: *Audible sigh* I truly CANNOT believe that you still have a job some days, my friend.
Alfonso Banks: It’s honestly BAFFLING, right?!
(We cut back to one final shot of Alexis, begrudgingly allowing the referee to raise her arms but wearing an expression of pure rage at Devon Ryder before we cut to the next segment.)
(The cameras cut to the hallway in the back where Candy was walking next to her husband, PWS Legend Marcus Cage. She had a smile on her face and a big bag over her shoulder)
Candy: I’m SO excited to do this Glitterbomb Match at Demon’s Run!
Marcus Cage: So, that means you can’t be in the Rebel Rumble?
(The thought entered her head and her demeanor immediately changed from excited to sad)
Candy: Oh no… I really wanted to do that too! I’m so sad, I hope they can fill my spot.
Marcus Cage: Don’t worry… they already did.
Candy: What?
(Marcus reaches down and grabs the legs of his pants and pulls a tear away stripper pants move and puts his hands on his hips in a superhero pose. Candy looks down then back up)
Candy:Uh…Marcus?
Marcus Cage: Yes?
Candy: You’re in your underwear…
(He looks down and the camera pans out, showing him standing there in just his boxers. He pauses for a moment)
Marcus Cage: Not the first time I’ve been in my underwear backstage…
(It was at this moment Star Stormz walked by. She stopped when she noticed.)
Star Stormz: MARCUS! Put some pants on! Jesus how many times do I gotta tell you to NOT wander around the back in your underwear?
Marcus Cage: Sorry mom…
(She shakes her head and walks off. Marcus quickly ducks around the corner and pops back out a second later, fully dressed in his wrestling gear. He was wearing his blue camo wrestling tights, and his wrestling boots. Candy seemed amazed)
Candy: WOAH! How did you do that so fast?
Marcus Cage: It’s a talent I mastered in Vegas. I’m just glad these old things fit.
Candy: But why are you in your wrestling gear?
Marcus Cage: Because in a one night only special appearance… the High Voltage Superstar… Marcus Cage… is entering the Nic Powell Memorial Rebel Rumble.
(Candy’s eyes light up as the camera zooms in on Marcus as he flashes his signature, cheesy grin and two thumbs up. The cameras cut to a commercial)
(The cameras cut to the back where Alexis had stormed into Star’s office.)
Star Stormz: I really don’t know what you are complaining about. You won… you get the coveted last entry in the rumble…
Alexis Makarios: I’ll tell you what’s wrong! I don’t need anyone’s charity. It’s clear that jackass PURPOSELY lost the match because he has some sick fantasy about entering at #1 and lasting the whole rumble. I coulda won that match on my own, I didn’t NEED him to throw the match
Star Stormz: Well, regardless, you won the Fuck the Luck of the Draw match. Take the win. Congratulations.
(Alexis appears to be getting more angry.)
Alexis Makarios: Then I demand you put me in at #2.
Star Stormz: No can do.
Alexis Makarios: AND WHY NOT?
Star Stormz: Well, 1, Alexandra Sanders already has that spot. And 2, the whole point of the match is to FUCK the LUCK of the DRAW.
Alexis Makarios: There’s ways to fix this. I don’t need anyone’s pity wins, or to be part of some sick agenda. I don’t need charity!
Star Stormz: Let me put it this way, Alexis. If you enter the rumble in any spot other than last… for any reason… or take out anyone for their spot… whatever wild idea you have going on in your head… you WILL be suspended.
Alexis Makarios: WHAT!?!
Star Stormz: Do we understand each other?
Alexis Makarios: This is some grade A bullshit!
(With that, Alexis storms out leaving Star rubbing her temples.)
Star Stormz: I wish Max was here…
(She let out a sigh as she went back to her work.)
MAIN EVENT: Singles Match
Alexandra Sanders vs Tyson Sykes
(The camera returns from the last segment before the MAIN EVENT. Without further hesitation, Meg Reynolds steps into the middle of the ring and announces the beginning of the main event.)
'A modern-day warrior
Mean, mean stride
Today's Tom Sawyer
Mean, mean pride'
Meg Reynolds: “From Gorham, New Hampshire, The Ripper, TYSON SYKEESSSS!!!!”
(Leo's metal Cover of Tom Sawyer hits and Tyson Sykes busts through the curtain. Usually sporting a backwards hat and a cutoff graphic tee slightly too big for him that hangs slightly over his wrestling trunks, he surveys the crowd for a moment before speed-walking an intense lap around the ring. He then jumps onto the ring apron and climbs to the top rope, and today the fans get some air guitar to Tom Sawyer, and Alexandra gets two raised middle fingers, it was clear "The Ripper's" was in a mood today. He then leaps the rest of the way over the top rope and circles the inside of the ring, jaw jacking with the fans before waiting for Alexandra to arrive.)
Meg Reynolds: “And his opponent..”
(The lights go down and "Blow" Eva Under Fire featuring Spencer Charnas, starts to play. The arena is filled with Red and lights and fog. The Silhouette of Alexandra can be seen at the top of the ramp. She poses on the top of the ramp and as the beat drops, she starts to make her way down the ramp, towards the ring.)
Meg Reynolds: "From Dallas, Texas. The Dark Queen, ALEXANDRA SANDERS..."
(Stopping halfway down the ramp, she stops looking out over the crowd, before continuing on. She sees some of the signs people made, a cocky smirk crosses her face. Finishing her walk down the ramp, she climbs onto the ring apron and up onto the turnbuckle. She slips into the ring and poses on the ropes, leaning forward, talking shit with people in the front row. Before turning around to look at her opponent. When Alexandra removes her jacket, there’s a black band on her upper arm which reads “Nic”. She looks up at the sky, pointing to it, before looking back down at Sykes.)
JR Freeman: Alexandra paying homage to the man who made PWS: Apex possible, Nic Powell.
Alfonso Banks: That’s not normally something you see from our resident Dark Queen.
(Alexandra smirks, looking over at Freeman and Banks, pointing at them and winking, before turning back to Sykes. Her eyes are focused on Tysons as she rolls her shoulders and takes her position waiting for the start of the match.)
DING
DING
DING
(The two circle the ring for a moment, looking at each other, before locking up. For a moment it looks like Sykes might over power her, he tosses her to the mat, before showboating for a moment and yelling loudly for the camera to pick up.)
Tyson Sykes: I hope you are watching Jonathan! I’m going to end your Queen.
(Alexandra smirks, noticing he’s got his back turned to her. The referee is trying to get things under control when Alexandra kips up to her feet and catches Tyson in the back with a missile drop kick, sending him flying out of the ring. She stands to her feet once more, glaring down at him.)
JR Freeman: Alexandra didn’t take that threat lightly at all.
Alfonso Banks: I’m surprised she hadn’t made him bleed yet.
JR Freeman: Give it time, they literally just started.
Alfonso Banks: Week after week we’ve seen her come out here and totally decimate him while one of Antithesis was facing him. This just makes me wonder, will Tyson Sykes be in ANY condition to face Jonathan Sanders, that very she demon’s husband, at Demons Run.
(She climbs out of the ring and grabs him by the hair, dragging him towards the ring. She slams his head down on the ring apron, before smirking and letting out an evil laugh. Before she could strike again he had risen to his feet and she backed up against him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and ran, slamming her into the turnbuckle on the far side of the ring. She collapsed onto the ground before slowly making it to her knees and sitting back on her feet. Blood streamed down her face. Sykes saw this and capitalized on it, grabbing her and tossing her back into the ring.)
JR Freeman: Holy shit!!!
Alfonso Banks: Alexandra’s busted open! Someone needs to tell Jonathan that Sykes is destroying her beautiful face.
JR Freeman: You’re a pervert..
Alfonso Banks: I only said what EVERYONE in this arena is thinking.
(Through her bloodsoaked features, Alexandra glared up at Sykes, a fire raging through her as she pulled herself up to his feet and let out the loudest scream before, running towards him and hitting him with a lariat, teetering the bigger man. She notices it and runs to do it again, connects and he goes down. She mounts him and begins to throw punches, connecting with his face until he’s bleeding. She is pulled off by the referee who scolds her, she pulls away from the referee and goes to climb up on the turnbuckle and hits him with a split legged moonsault, before going for the pin.)
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
KICK OUT!!!
(Sykes barely gets his arm up, before pushing Alexandra off. She pulled back laughing again, it was clear that she had gone completely feral and he was going to have to change the game up. Sykes moved over to her and the two started trading chops back and forth, until both their chests are red and swollen. Sykes grabs Alexandra, who’s wind was knocked out of her by a repeated barrage of chops from the bigger man. He lifts her up and hits her with three German suplexes. Seeing she’s on dream street, he hits her with Time Of Death, and goes for the pin.)
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
KICKOUT!!!
(Alexandra barely kicked out of it, having taken a lot of damage in those last few moments. Scrambling to the corner and trying to pull herself up the turnbuckle.)
JR Freeman: HOW DID SHE DO THAT?!?!?
Alfonso Banks: She’s The Dark Queen.. That’s how.. Get with the program.
(Sykes sees Alexandra in the corner and goes to dive onto her, no doubt to set her up for his patented Syko Bomb. Alexandra sees him coming and moves out of the way, just as he dives at her. This causes him to hit his head on the steel post of the turnbuckle and fall backwards onto the mat. At this point, Alexandra see’s the busted open spot start seeping blood. She goes on the attack like a shark. She pounces him and pulls at the wound, opening it up further before flipping him over and locking in On Death's Door, wrenching back on it, really stretching him.)
JR Freeman: Alexandra has a submission on him. Both of them are bleeding, this can’t be easy to keep a grip on him.
Alfonso Banks: This is what Alexandra excels at, destroying her opponents systematically.
(The referee started lifting his hand up, watching it fall, Alexandra let him go, standing up to look down at him, before looking over at the referee backing him into the corner, scaring him. She turned back around, seeing Sykes trying to get back to his feet, having made it to one knee. She leveled him and made a cutting symbol across her throat, before running towards him and hitting him with a V-Trigger. She spun around, coming out of that, to grab him, dragging him over to the turnbuckle and looking into his eyes.)
Alexandra Sanders: This is for My Beloved..
(Alexandra drags him up, as she moves onto the turnbuckle. Lifting him up, she sets him up for the Fallen Angel and hits it. Some of the crowd is booing, some cheering, Alexandra goes immediately for the cover as they hit the mat. The referee slides in slamming his hand down in the blood right by them that’s pouring from both Alexandra and Sykes.)
ONE!!!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
(Alexandra stood, wiping some blood from Sykes face across her stomach, smirking as she did it. She looked down at him, before the referee took her hand and raised it high, as Meg made the announcement.)
Meg Reynolds: Your winner, ALEXANDRA SANDERSSSSS!!!
JR Freeman: That’s it ladies and gentleman, Alexandra has gotten her revenge on Tyson Sykes for what he did to betray Antithesis, however he still has one more challenge to face, The Lost Cause himself, Jonathan Sanders.
Alfonso Banks: It’s sure to be one hell of a night at Demons Run, especially with the announcement made only a short while ago that Alexandra would be number 2 in the Rebel Rumble. It’s sure to be a banger of a night.
WINNER= ALEXANDRA SANDERS
(Alexandra climbed up onto the turnbuckle, watching as the fans went wild. She looked up seeing the Demons Run banner. She smirked before raising her right arm, the one with the NIC band on it, pointing at the banner. This caused the fans to get twice as loud, remembering that the last time a rumble happened in PWS: Apex, SHE was the winner of that. Could she do it one more time? That would be answered at Demons Run.)
JR Freeman: That’s it for the show tonight folks, join us when DEMONS RUN comes to you live, from London England. From everyone here at PWS: APEX, Be good to yourself and each other. See you all.. At Demons Run. Goodnight!
(The show fades to black on the image of Alexandra standing tall on the turnbuckle, still pointing at the banner. The image fades to black. The last words on the screen are.)
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