Alfie Button vs Darren Best “Sacrifice” by Jeff Williams played as Alex Reyn made his way down to ringside. Buhrman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen. Joining us on commentary for what is certain to be an exciting match between Alfie Button and Darren Best! Powers: Exciting is putting it mildly Michael. This match is about friends vs friends, brothers vs brothers. I can not wait! Buhrman: Indeed, this whole story started at Rise of the Legends: when Alex Reyn assaulted Alfie, injuring him significantly to get to Best. Powers: Both Best and Button have lost to Reyn, yet here they are fighting for the right to face him again next week on pay-per-view. Buhrman: They must have a... DEATH WISH! …. Crowd goes dead silent .... …. Buhrman: Get it? Cause it’s the PPV and… you know… Death Wish….? …. Powers: ...I hate you. Buhrman: Well anyway, we’d like to welcome young Alex Reyn to the ta-... wait, where did he go- AAHH!! Buhrman nearly jumped out of seat as he realised that Alex Reyn had already taken a seat next to him and was now staring intently at the ring. Buhrman: ...uh… welcome Mr Reyn… No response. Smoove on the speakers. Out came Alfie Button, who had been infuriated with his partner in recent weeks. He had come back to help his partner and been punched in the face for his troubles. Not that you'd know it, given the Cockney's swagger as he strolled down to the aisle with a smile longer and dirtier than the Thames. He waggled the three middle fingers on each hand, demanding accolades and putting the attention on him. All he got was a round of jeers instead. He hurried up the ring steps and then leapt over the top rope, using it for leverage. ‘Messing With The Best’ by Miracle of Sound. Much to his chagrin, Alfie’s music faded and out came Darren Best. Best's walk had so much poise and purpose. He blocked the background noise out and was just about to enter the ring through the middle rope when... Alfie attacked with an axe-handle. Button then dragged him Best in by his hair, rammed his head into the top turnbuckle twice and threw him back out over the top! Alex: Opportunistic. I like it. Buhrman: Oh come on! Darren didn’t even have a chance to defend himself! Alex: He had a chance Michael. Had he kept his guard up, he could easily have avoided that. I have no sympathy for people who suffer due to their own lack of foresight. Powers: I hate to say it, but I’m with the psychopath on this one. You have to do whatever it takes to win. Button followed suit, showcasing his sensational agility by leaping over the top for the second time in as many minutes, Powers: a bit flashier than necessary, but that’s Alfie for you. Alex: Need I remind you that that kind of show beating is the REASON Mr Button lost his match to me. He should keep focused on his target. Button was back to business though and he drove Darren into the steps with an Irish whip shoulder-first. As Best sat up against the steps, it was time to go for a... Commercial break! What, already? No, that was Alfie's signature hesitation dropkick. Powers: I don’t know, he looks pretty focused to me. There'd been no bell to start this contest, such was the ferocity and tempo of Alfie's pre-meditated assault. And, as the official came out to kindly ask the English gent (tut) if he'd return to the ring right away, Button took liberties by scoring with a significantly quicker dropkick... to the bollocks. Balls for those of you not familiar with British slang. And the referee bollocked Button for that. Alfie pretended to apologise. But, he knew deep down that he couldn't be disqualified. After all, the match hadn't officially got underway yet. The referee warned him to take things inside, not for a coffee, and Alfie afforded the audience a wry smile. You wonder if he'd planned all of this out beforehand. If so, it had worked a post-dinner treat. Alex shook his head at that underhanded tactic. Buhrman: I take it you disapprove? Alex: Of course I disapprove. Mr Button just made a serious tactical blunder. Powers: Huh? What do you mean? He saw an opportunity and he took advantage of it. How is that a tactical blunder? Reyn fixed Powers with an almost pitying stare. Alex: Listen. I know about half the people here are enamoured with groin strikes, but the problem with them is that while they’re incredibly painful, they do very little lasting damage. By the time Alfie rolls Darren in the ring, he’s going to have shaken off the pain and be back in fighting condition. Which means that Alfie wasted his opportunity inflicting a mere flesh wound. Powers: Alright then Napoleon, what would YOU have done? Alex: Notice how the steel steps were knocked out of place when Darren hit them? Powers: ...yeah. Alex: If Alfie were to trap Darren’s arm between the stairs and the ring post at the right angle and then dropkick the stairs, he could cause serious damage to Darren’s arm and possibly even cripple it. Not only would this provide an exploitable weak point for submission holds, but it would also cut Darren’s own offense in half. Powers: ...That’s.. actually a good point. Sick and twisted, but a good point. So you’re telling me that’s what you would do? Alex: No. Powers: What? But you just said- Alex: I said it is what ALFIE should do. It is not something I would do. Powers: Why not? Alex: Because I wouldn’t need to. Alfie rolled Darren back in. Then, he theatrically pulled himself up onto the top rope, often mentioned in this outing thus far, and 'skinned the cat' to come back in. If you thought Button was all style and no substance... SIT ON IT! A double foot stomp that had oomph to go with its pretty presentation prior to that. Officially, the bout had started too. Button wasted no time in going to the top - turnbuckle this time - and Best, who was lying on his front, was caught with a cracking frogsplash. En route to going to the other corner, Alfie turned his partner over so he was now flat on his back. Over at the commentary desk, Alex promptly facepalmed. The intention was to do it again and no one knew that better than Darren. So, when Alfie did what was predicted, Darren was yards away. It was now Darren's turn to get stuck in. Alex: I KNEW that was going to happen. Stop giving your opponent time to recover, you moron! He couldn't quite capitalise. As both men stood up though, Best for once beat Button to the punch - quite literally - firing a shot into his stomach not once, nor twice, but thrice. WHOAH! That was everyone's reaction to the high-speed journey Button took to the opposite corner, the bottom right one, of the ring via an Irish whip. It turned him upside down and inside out, though he hadn't left the ring. Instead, he was stumbling into the grateful arms of his former partner. How romantic. Backdrop driver! Maybe not. One... Two... Not far away. Best went back to the well, sending Button back into buckle that he'd originally come from... Corner spla...t. Alfie had the presence of mind and pace to avoid contact. He still had his wits about him, and the athleticism to connect with an amazing Enzuigiri, no bunk-ups either, which took Best clean off his feet. Would it be enough to record a clean victory? 1... 2... No cigar. Alfie picked Darren up and put him on the top floor with Best facing the crowd and his back to Button. The Londoner was looking for a leaping poisoned frankensteiner and he got it... Canal Plus. Could Alfie get it now? 1... 2... No. Alex: He’s using too many big moves too early. All that setup time is giving Darren time to recover. Alfie started sticking the boots to Best, forcing him out onto the apron. With Darren out there, Button scored with a springboard axe-handle to the throat, causing the New Yorker to fall from the ring altogether. Button stood up on the apron and took a bow, which hasn't increased his popularity at all. He's on in his own in this one. Anyway, Alfie patiently waited for Best to make it to his feet. When he did... Damn it! The diving apron forearm smash, again to the throat, connected and Best's breathing was heavy. Again, Alfie sought accolades - hands outstretched by his side - and again he was denied. They were pulling for his ex-partner. Alex: JUST PIN HIM YOU IDIOT!!! Cleverly, the Cockney stopped the referee's ongoing count, albeit a slow one, just before nine. He rolled in briefly, though not for long. He wasn't going to let up and when you're as quick and fit as he is, you don't have to. If only he could work on his resilience. Best, crawling, got a brutal boot to the ribs and slumped immediately afterwards through the sheer force of the shot. In complete command, the Briton lifted Best up and positioned him near the ringside barricade. Here he comes... Backbody drop into the crowd! It didn't go according to plan then. Best followed Alfie's example by breaking the official's count, merely by putting his right arm in and his right arm out...in, out, in out, you shake it all about. Okay, he didn't do all of that. Instead, he ever so carefully climbed onto the barricade, steadied himself and waited for Alfie... Flying clothesline from the barricade! The fans seemed to be lapping it up. From the mess, Best emerged first and he didn't muck about. He assumed control of Alfie by his lengthy mane and rammed him so hard into the barricade that I thought Dexter Morgan had returned to Miami for one final kill. Button's back hit first. If it had been his face, he would have been bleeding like your missus on her rag. Darren launched Alfie back onto the arena floor. Powers: Is there any point to the ref being out here? Alex: I ask myself that question every day. Buhrman & Powers: We know! Best paid Button back by kicking him in the ribs while he was down. He did it twice for the desired and maximum effect. Emotions were running high; no surprise really between two guys who used to room, tour, travel and fight together. Darren mounted Alfie and let out a whole load of frustration, power and testosterone on his English ally once upon a time, to the point that Alfie appeared to be unconscious. And, the worrying thing for Button? He wasn't on the brink of stopping anytime soon. Until the referee snapped him out if with a tap on the back and a stern warning. Best may've been mad at Alfie, but he had to remember the prize here - another shot at besting Reyn. Pun intended as always. Darren put Alfie back in the ring. Instead of covering his former cohort, he sat him upright, testament to the condition Button was in. It took a few seconds to position Alfie perfectly, but once Darren got him where he wanted, he showed off with a wonderful rolling necksnap. It ticked both boxes of pragmatic and pretty. If that weren't enough, the hapless Button was now prone to a superb swinging neckbreaker by a true student of the game. Would he implement what he had learned in his trio of defeats to Alex if he faced him a week from now? Judging from the small smile on Alex’s face, it would seem the answer might be: yes. Best was going for a REAL knockout blow this time - Button could do nothing to resist him. As Darren picked Alfie up for a piledriver, the crowd cheered, sensing this could be the end of the Englishman's quest... That was until Alfie, desperately, clutched onto Darren's left leg and caused Best to fall backwards. However, Best was hardly stationery now; he wailed at Alfie's back and neck with clubbing forearms. Suddenly, Button stood up - in more ways than one - and nailed Darren with a sensational standing dropkick at point-blank range. Both were facing a count. Let's fast-forward a bit. It got to six and Alfie stirred... Soccerball kick to the bridge of the nose. That sent Darren towards the second rope, forcing him to hit his head awkwardly. When he used the ropes to help him up, he may've wished he'd stayed down a bit longer... Superkick! And it lived up to its name. Button flopped on top... One... Two... Thr....NO! Button steered Darren towards the apron with the sole of his boot; hardly respectful to a close friend. Evidently, those days were long gone. And so was Darren. After placing Best on the apron, Button took off in the other direction and returned with vigour, fervour and fever in the form of a vicious baseball slide that knocked Best to the arena floor again, only this time next to the commentary desk. In vain, Alfie tried to start a clap to get the crowd going; it wasn't his role. They were having none of it. No matter. When Darren stood up, Alfie flung himself through the air with even more force and velocity than the aforementioned baseball slide... JUMPING THE SHARK! Button had dived through the bottom ropes and taken Darren down with a tremendous tornado DDT! The fans, begrudgingly, gave Button respect for that. Alex: Not bad. Alfie picked Darren up in a body slam position and placed him on the announcers' desk. A couple of right hands for good measure ensured Darren remained where he was. Where was Button heading? Powers: Oh God damnit. Buhrman: I’ll write the bill for a new table. Firstly, Alfie entered the ring to break the referee's intentionally-slow count. I couldn't tell whether that was intentional or not for he had his eyes on a far bigger catch. He started scaling the turnbuckles. In unison, members of the paying public rose. They would not be disappointed to get a better view of this. Alfie Button... COME ON DOWN!!! A phenomenal frogpump elbow from the top turnbuckle to the commentary table, well that was no more. It had given way under the impact of the two Entertainers and a heck of a high spot. While the commentary team had jumped out of the way, Alex merely sat there as the table imploded right in front of him. Gazing down at the two opponents with a small smile playing on his lips. Holy nitrogenous waste, the fans screamed. Alfie, who was now oblivious to it, was getting some of the credit he felt he automatically warranted. He had earned it with that move mind. A couple of replays at contrasting speeds underlined the highlight of the night from an in-ring perspective and bought time while these two former friends-cum-opponents recovered from tearing each other apart. The brash Briton came out of the rubble first and was clutching his elbow - could that now be his Achilles heel? Best was coming round... Hard knee to the face by Alfie! Scrub that. Button brought Best up, but caught a hard right to the ribs as a result. That, coupled with his landing, took the wind out of Alfie. Nevertheless, Darren couldn't exploit his opponent's weakened state, given his own plight. However, Button missed with a right hand to settle Darren down, and missed. It didn't bode well for Button, who got caught with one in retaliation and an atomic drop that sent him face-first into the ring post! Best wasn't done with introducing Button to the steel; he smartly took Alfie's arm, the same one that had done the damage with the frogpump, and blasted it into the post as well. Darren hadn't forgotten about that elbow. The Englishman voluntarily rolled into the ring, and it wasn't to break any type of non-existent count from the official. We should've just made this a falls-count-anywhere match, but we'll save that for another time. If there is a next time... I digress. Best pursued his one-time partner, only in wrestling folks, and stamped on Button's right hand. How had their relationship deteriorated so far and so fast? Darren then applied an arm wringer, a bit of a comedown after all the recent goings on, though still sound strategy. It came equipped with repeated punches to the shoulder and elbow. We mustn't forget that elbow. Best ushered Alfie towards the corner. We'd already seen one variation, a far more spectacular one admittedly, but Darren was steak and potatoes in comparison to Button's caviar and made do with a tornado single arm DDT instead. The New York native went back to an arm wringer, which was abruptly substituted by a hammerlock. However, that was a cunning disguise for a hammerlock back suplex. All logical and hurtful. Best, doing his best Pat Gordon Jr impression, applied another hammerlock with Alfie down face first, like a police officer applying handcuffs to a grounded criminal, and aggressively kneed Button a couple of times for shits and giggles. Slowly, Darren brought Button back up. With a sudden switch, he then slammed the Londoner's elbow into the turnbuckle on three successive occasions. Flipping Alfie around, who's not in great shape at this point, Best changed tact with a chop. Best then mounted Alfie in the corner, a party trick to let the crowd prove they can count, but Alfie was the party-pooper and shoved Best off like he was a mugger. Darren was undeterred, though he was about to be deflated. When he steamed in like a bull in the narrow streets of Pamplona, Button had moved and Darren's sternum smashed against the turnbuckle. Button's brain was in tune with his feet... Russian legsweep! One... Two... Not on your nelly, Alfie! With renewed confidence, Alfie was not only back in this, but looking to win it. Cliffhanger! Hair-pull hangman showed Button's machismo, oh yeah, do you dig it? Alfie leapt back onto the apron. He wasn't settling this time. Darren, who was nursing a hell of a cough again, turned around to... catch Button in mid-air - Powerbomb! Double powerbomb!! Triple p---rematurely. Alfie had readjusted his hands on top of Darren's head and showed greater will, want and knowhow... Ratings slump! A modified DDT. 1... 2... Darren's desire and determination shouldn't be questioned after that. Sorry, pal. Alfie, keen to put this to bed, picked Best up and forced him back into the corner with two stiff European uppercuts that would've put Nigerian viagra out of business. Still, Best replied in kind with a Chinese chop suey of his own that echoed around Sarasota, OH YEAH, and the rest of Florida. One-upmanship led me to believe these two were reprising the roles of Mario and Luigi. Anyway, Alfie shook off the pain to deliver a dropsault. Stupidly, he undid that by choosing the worst time to pose... Best explodes out of the corner with a clothesline that almost beheaded the big-headed bastard! Darren locked Button in a front face LOW BLOW! With the referee, who's been redundant and downright useless for the vast majority of this match, unsighted Alfie exploited it and cheaply connected downstairs for the second time tonight. Alex: Now THAT is the time to use that tactic. Despite the boos, and the official's suspicions, there was no proof. Not even Darren's dramatic wriggling and squirming could condemn the Cockney. Could, would, Alfie get away with it? He jaunted over to the ropes, nearest to the entrance, to meet Darren head-on. How fitting. We've celebrated the final iNtense in jOlt history, this instalment is the last Countdown and Alfie Button is going to meet Alex Reyn at our goodbye pay-per-view in our... SEASON FINALE! Alfie's 720 DDT!!!!!!! No fucking way Darren could kick out of that if it hit. IF it had hit. Instead, Best had plucked Alfie out of the air like an apple and launched him overhead... BEST OF BOTH!! Now, that's what you call an EXPLODER! All Darren had to do was crawl a short distance and turn Alfie on. He was feeling the pain and the pressure, but willed on by this capacity crowd, he found a way to make it to the promised land. Referee, for once tonight, do your job. ONE... TWO... TWO AND A HALF MEN... THREE?!?!?! Was it ever in doubt... THREE!!! Darren must've felt relief and great pride inside; his arm raised in the air, backed by a full house and safe in the knowledge that he'd backed up what he'd always felt and said. Down the road, and even in the air, Darren and Alfie had travelled as a team. Beneath and above the surface, they'd contemplated, considered and conversed about who was the captain in their couple; who wore the trousers in their relationship. They'd respected the other's ability, promoted their partners as exceptional athletes in their own right, but held the belief that they were superior to their sidekick. Best had alluded to it in last week's interview when this match was officially made. Then, he declared himself to be supremely confident and that he was and always would be on a higher level to his cocky co-worker. His reward? A rematch with Alex Reyn at Death Wish. Part four in their riveting rivalry. That remained to be seen. For now though, Darren Best was the better man. Winner: Darren Best via Pinfall