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Keith Kane was shown walking through a rather swanky living room as he puffed in the toxic contents of his Marlboro Light cigarette. He was accustomed to smoking whenever the situation called for it, whether after a big meal or to calm his nerves in tense scenarios. To be quite honest, he also thought it made him look pretty frickin’ cool!With an exhale, all the thick grey smoke filled up the hallway as he strolled up to two black-suited security guards. His mouth closed over the cigarette pressed firmly between his lips, a slick grin forming at the corner of his mouth opposite the cancer stick. “Hey ya, fellas. Looking good today. The boss in?” he blurted out. One of the security members, a bald-headed man standing six feet tall, took a few steps forward until he was hovering over Keith’s pudgy frame. “You know the boss doesn't allow smoking in this building right fatso?” he said eyeing Keith up and down. This brought a sudden halt to Keith’s cheery attitude. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked the cherry portion of it onto the ground. He obligingly placed the remaining part of his cigarette inside his coat pocket. Keith kept his head straight, only moving his eyes to catch a glimpse of a mouth before returning them to the floor. The guard smirked and turned around and walked back to his post besides his colleague. Keith cleared his throat, “I have a meeting with the boss. I have the email if ya don’t believe me…” The second guard opened the door before Keith could say another word. “Not necessary. He’s expecting you.” You’re damn right he’s expectin’ me. Keith thought with a sudden boost to his confidence. Keith gently dusted off his sports coat and entered the room. The office was filled with designer leather furniture. Dead center was a beautiful marble desk that looked to weigh a ton. The man he was scheduled to meet had his head buried in front of a laptop. Keith was not able to see the man’s face, but that would not keep him from speaking. “I just want to start out by saying that it’s a privilege to finally work for this company. It’s not like ya made it easy on me…” Keith stated before being interrupted by a familiar voice. “Even when you’re trying to suck up, you still sound like a whiny bitch of a dog.” The figure peered out from behind the screen, a contemptible expression on his face. Keith narrowed his vision in the dim-lit room as he did his best to focus in on the details. As he took a couple steps forward, the figure became clearer. He noticed the grey hair first, followed by a thick salt-and-pepper mustache. The man was wearing a brace around his neck and it suddenly all made sense. “Uh, Mr. Johnson?” Keith asked, not sure if he was seeing a ghost. It was Mr. Johnson indeed. The same man that suffered the vicious assault two weeks ago at the hands of The Superbeast, an attack that left him with a plethora of injuries; some major while others minor. He slammed the laptop shut, startling Keith as he jumped back a step. “You can call me Jim, you pitiful excuse for a human being. It’s not because I like you, but Mr. Johnson was my father. I already had a chance to look over the contract you faxed over. So whether I like it or not, I’m stuck with your fat ass until you or your client die.” he said, lifting up a glass of Johnny Walker Blue and taking a sip. Keith had to suck it up and get down to business. After all, this was the same Jim Johnson he worked with back in at the Legacy of Champions. Another overbearing dictator, but hey, you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. Keith walked over to the leather couch in the corner of the room and took a seat. The supple leather was a welcomed change from the wooden benches in the locker rooms. “Get the fuck off my couch!” Jim shouted. Keith nervously popped up from his seated position and gave Jim a look of confusion. Jim spoke up in between gulps, “Make this fast. I haven’t got all day.” Keith could not remember the specifics of what he went there to discuss. He had to start talking before security was called back in to throw him out on his ass again. “Look here Jim, you’re the one that drafted up Ray’s contract, so I’m sure ya know exactly what the terms are. My client has no problem with the two-fifty per appearance or the lack of traveling expenses. I did notice the option for an increase in terms, that is, if ya saw fit to do so. I was just wondering what exactly he would have to do to be granted said increase.” Keith finished, realizing everything had come out as he had originally intended. Jim finished off the remaining scotch in one large swig. He set the glass down on top of the desk before he turned his attention to Keith. “I have no idea how a piece of crap like you managed to talk Ray Chavez into letting you manage him. I don’t think you fully understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. He may seem like a different man on the outside, but I assure you he is the same manipulative bastard on the inside. In my position, you get to know what makes people tick. Look at Sylo. I’m the only guy in jOlt that actually understands what fuels a monster like that. That’s why he attacked me. He knows it’s only a matter of time before the grim reaper comes knocking at his door, courtesy of Jim Johnson!” he said, pounding his fist against the desk, causing everything to shake. Jim regained his composure and continued, “Ray on the other hand was a little harder to figure out, but I did. This is the same complacent son-of-a-bitch that would sit down in my office and do his best to negotiate multi-million dollar contracts for himself. Ray has always been good for business, so I would accommodate him. Imagine my surprise when I was contacted by a member of Ray’s entourage, who gave up all the details of his current debacle. Oh yes, they told me everything from the contents of his bank accounts to how he got that face. The tables were now turned in my favor, so I sent out the cheapest contract I had ever offered someone. I knew he had no choice but to accept it. The Master of Manipulation was now going to be a bona fide employee of jOlt! I had every intention of making his life a living hell and making sure to end his career. This was to be his final act, so to speak. Then Sylo put me on the shelf. He made the biggest mistake ever. I can be hurt, but never killed. I have the power to do whatever the hell I want! Mark my words, when I’m back at one hundred percent, I will end the careers of one Jay Sylo and Ray Chavez.” Keith was speechless. Jim was right, what had he gotten himself involved in? He was now in the midst of a full on war, when he only wanted his commentating position back. He knew Ray was a formidable opponent, but not in his current state. “Uh, Jim. Ya didn’t quite explain how he’s supposed to get his pay increased?” Keith said, unsure if his vindictive boss would flip his lid. “Ah, yes. The contract. Ray is competing on borrowed time until I’m back in control of this place. The incentive was to give him hope, so I could see the look on his face when he ultimately failed for good. I’m a man of my word, even if he doesn’t stand a chance. I’ll give him the same inflated contract he had in LoC if, and only if, he can win three consecutive singles matches by pinfall or submission. The only catch is that he can never know about any of it. The moment he does, the term becomes null and void.” Jim finished speaking before he pulled out one of the desk drawers. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of prescription painkillers. He tossed his head back and dumped, approximately, four pills into down his gullet. Jim looked up, shocked to see Keith still standing there. He never liked the fact that Keith resembled porn star Ron Jeremy, Paul Heyman, and actor Paul Giamatti all rolled up into one ball of shit. That and the fact that Keith partook in an unfavorable tell-all book about the rise and fall of LoC. That was a story for a different day. “Keith, that’s your cue to get the fuck out of my house.”  
iNtense opened with Damien Lee standing in the ring.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Sunday iNtense!" The fans were still cheering from the opening music and pyro, and Lee's announcement just solidified that the show had officially begun. "I'm trying not to make a habit of this, but once again I have something very important that I need to announce here tonight. I'll keep it short and simple. Last week there was a main event that consisted of the Legacy Championship being defended on jOltv for the first time ever ... and that match ended in controversy when Superstar Vince Jacobs intentionally disqualified himself from the contest." A fact that the fans did not appreciate at all. "And here's the deal, no matter what Superstar Vince Jacobs is going to Divide & Conquer to attempt to win the jOlt Championship. Brandon Blade was supposed to be the other half of that equation but, as we all know, Brandon was a victim of unfortunate circumstances on iNtense 35 and is unable to compete in jOlt for the time being. Needless to say, we need a replacement. And, ladies and gentlemen, as a result of the circumstances of last week's main event that replacement will be ... "The Superbeast" Sylo!" The Arena of Champions erupted at the announcement of Sylo vs. SVJ for the jOlt Championship at Divide & Conquer. But there was one inhabitant of the Arena of Champions in particular that had different feelings on the matter. "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash. The original Man in Black leads in his jOlt equivalent. The Nashvillain, followed by G.G. Gentry and the West Texas Terrorists, made his way down to the ring. His Relentless Championship slung over his shoulder and a microphone already in hand, The Nashvillain climbed the ring steps and quickly entered the ring. "How ya doin' tonight, Lee?" Great, it seemed, up and until The Nashvillain walked into their lives. "So, I been thinkin' 'bout a couple things lately. An' one thing in particular has kept on creepin' to the forefront of them thoughts. I'm the Relentless Champion." Something that the fans were well aware of and completely hated. "Now, y'all may not know exactly what that means there ... but Imma tell y'all right here an' right now. What that means is I am the number one contender to that there jOlt Championship you been runnin' yer mouth 'bout, Lee." "That's true, Nash ... do you mind if I call you Nash? Calling you The Nashvillain every time I address you seems a bit ridiculous." "You call him The Nashvillain," screamed G.G. Gentry, "an' you speak to him with respect! You ain't nothin' but a stand-in, Lee, 'til Jim Johnson gets back on his feet!" "Yeah ... I don't know who you are, or how you managed to find a time machine in 1920 Atlanta, but I'd greatly appreciate it if you would kindly shut the hell up. I'm not a "stand-in" and, in fact, I rank higher than Jim Johnson but The Nashvillain does have a point. Technically, he is the number one contender but ... there is no jOlt Champion. He can, however, challenge Derecho for his Underground Championship if he so chooses." "Hold yer horses there, Lee. I ain't tryin' to challenge nobody fer their titles tonight. What I'm out here to do right here an' now is to challenge someone to challnge me fer my Relentless Championship an' that someone is ... "The Supersmurf" Sylo!" “Okay, Nash, I ... really? "Damn straight." Well ... wow ... I mean, if that’s what you really want I suppose I have no other option than to--” Damien Lee was cut out by the fact the lights shut off. If history had proven one thing it was about to prove that the man that was centered around this discussion was about to chime in. Now, normally that’s not a bad thing, unless that man is Sylo. The man had been the single most destructive force in jOlt since the doors opened up. Johnny Cash would follow.
“And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. A blinding white explosion, much like a bomb being dropped right on top of Beaver-fuckin’-Cleaverville, went off on the stage and through the smoke came the 7’1” 335 lb juggernaut; Sylo. He didn’t even acknowledge Nash, The Texas Terrorists, or even Damien Lee as he stepped on the stage. Instead he moved to one side and stared out at the fans before repeating it on the other side of the stage. Sylo turned and moved dead center of the stage and squatted down, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, staring at everyone in the ring, and as always, calculating his move. Sylo sprang from a squat into a standing position, both hands extended, throwing his head back, and letting out a roar as another explosion much like the first went off. Sylo still had his hands out as the light died down, his back to the ring, as he was still moving to the ring. Sylo turned, blowing smoke out of his nose, and watched the fans again. The sea of humanity had gotten what they had paid to come see and it was just the beginning. Sylo smirked, the pearly elongated canines of his gleaming, as he turned back toward the ring with a microphone in hand. “So I heard my name,” Sylo couldn’t finish as the sea of fans roared with approval again. He let the microphone dangle to pick up the fans while shrugging a shoulder at everyone in the ring. Slowly they died down and Sylo turned his attention back to the ring. “And, Lee, before you say “You have your match!” and everyone cheers and then tonight I come out here and wreck three more,” Sylo used the infamous air quotes. “Superstars” I figured I’d come out here and express how shocked I am. You see I’ve had a long career and in that career I’ve seen a lot of weird shit and I’ve been a part of some of that weird shit. At one time I faced a man in what was known as “The void” which included beating up celebrities he had banished there,” Sylo shook his head a little at the mention of a match that took place all the way back in PCW. “Hell, some of you might remember this, at one time I had a monkey with a substance abuse problem that was also a pimp that came to the ring with me wearing a pimp suit and carrying a pimp cane. Those were some weird years.” Sylo stopped as a chant broke out. ROLF~! ROLF~! ROLF~! ROLF~! ROLF~! “Oh Good you do remember. Anyway, all of that rolled into one still isn't’ as weird as this,” Sylo pointed toward the ring. “At first I thought it was a joke until I realized this guy was serious. Nashvillian is it? That can’t be right. I know who you are and I have to say it’s both a privilege as well as extremely strange that I’ll be fighting the love child of the Hamburglar and Grimace.” Nash snarled and yelled off mic asking just exactly what the hell Sylo was referring to. “Oh, I brought a picture. Let’s get that up, can we?” Sylo looked over his shoulder at the screen.
 The fans rolled with laughter, Damien Lee even had to stifle a laugh, but Nash nor The West Texas Terrorists were laughing. In fact, for them, it was the exact opposite. Nash snatched a microphone, and began shouting. “So ya got ya sum’ jokes? You think yer’ funny? Le’s see how funny yew’ are when me and tha’ boys here teach ya’ a lesson! Cause tonight, son me an’ tha’ West Texas Terrorists are gon’--” “Listen, fatman, don’t you ever fucking cut me off. I came out here to pay homage to your parents and compliment the fact I’d be facing you and you want to get an attitude? Fine. Let’s get serious, then. You think for one second you and your middle school dropouts are going to stop me from getting to Divide and Conquer?” Sylo snarled a little staring at Nash. “Yer a big man when yer not in this ring!” Nash shouted. Sylo cocked his head for a moment, shrugged, and walked the rest of the way to the ring climbing in. Damien Lee was eyeing the powder keg that could go off at any minute. “I’ll put this in terms all three of you dumb rednecks can understand. You big men might have beat up a woman but tonight I’m going to make all three of you my bitch. See you at your funeral.” Sylo tossed the mic at Lee’s feet as “Miracle (Pale Horse Remix)” by Nonpoint started up again. The fans roared with approval as Sylo smirked chuckling at the three men he’d face tonight before flipping over the top rope and landing on his feet. Sylo backed up the ramp still smirking before stopping at the top of the stage again. He looked again at Nash and The West Texas Terrorists before letting out a snarl and dragging a lone, ominous thumb across his throat.
 
“The Equalizer” Ray Chavez was shown backstage walking alongside his manager, Keith Kane. He had his wrestling gear on which consisted of his original boots, pads, and sleeves. The newest addition, part of Keith’s repackaging phase, was the red and yellow singlet with an image of Ray as a skeleton painted on the front. This was the first time anybody was able to see the scarring on his legs. Donny Layne quickly ran in front of them with his microphone in hand. “Ray! Can I get a moment of your time?” he asked, hoping he would agree. All three of them stopped moving and stood there looking at each other. Donny raised the microphone up to Ray’s mouth, but not before Keith grabbed his hand which held it. He gently applied pressure, causing Donny to lower the microphone down to Keith’s own speaking level. “How’s it going Donny? What did ya need?” he asked, looking back at Ray to make sure he did not say a word. Donny did not want to talk to Keith, but he was not the rude type either. “I’m doing fine Keith, but the fans want to know what Ray’s game plan is tonight, especially after suffering that unfortunate loss last week to Grendel.” Keith snickered at Donny’s comments. “Last week, Grendel knocked Ray out with a powerbomb over the top rope. Ya have to keep in mind that Ray hasn’t been in a squared circle in about a year. Not only that, but jOlt management made it clear that his first match would not be anything out of the ordinary. Then, out walked this gargantuan wrestler named Grendel. That guy was like an animal in there! My client has a lot of heart though, always remember that. He stepped up his game and was prepared to give the fans one hell of a match. That is, until Grendel decided to try and end Ray’s career.” Donny transitioned the microphone back in front of his mouth. “Yes, we were all praying no real damage was done. We all have so many questions though. The scars, mask, new look, what does it all mean? Also, if Ray couldn’t defeat Grendel in his first match back, what is going to happen when he has to face the likes of someone like Derecho or even Sylo!?” Derecho and Sylo? What in the world is this idiot talkin’ about? Keith wondered. Keith’s tone now had a slight hint of hostility in it, but nothing that would be a deal breaker. “Donny, the fans need to remember that Ray is competing in jOlt against doctors’ orders. Everybody knows this man has what it takes to beat everyone from Derecho to Sylo. Ray is not one to back down from a challenge or a match. He’s a superstar on his way to top! It has only begun! jOlt isn’t ready for an Equalizer!” Keith smiled and gently pushed Ray from behind so he could start walking away from Donny and his ridiculous questions. Donny shouted in their direction, “But you didn’t answer my questions!” It was too late. They were gone.  Greg Vincent vs. Ray Chavez   
And finally… "Cocky" by Kid Rock. It hit the air waves and the lights dimmed to black. A blue glow began to illuminate from the lights above, turning the jOlt arena into a blue dome of light. Once the song kicked into high gear, the rest of the jOlt fans stood up and stared at the entrance as there minds ran rapidly. Who was about to make there jOlt debut? Was it a Legend from fWo? Or a former LoC Grappler? Maybe Jim Johnson brought in one of his PiW superstars? WRONG! "YOUR Entertainment Savior!" flashed on the jOltVision above the ramp followed by a… BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! White flames expanded into the musky air setting the stage for MegaSTAR Greg Vincent to make his debut in jOlt. A single spotlight highlighted YOUR Entertainment Savior as he parted the curtains with a blue steel chair in hand. He casted a glare into the sea of fans desperate for some entertainment. With the spotlight casting a halo around his bold figure, Greg strutted down the ramp wearing his wrestling attire and a blue sleeveless shirt with ‘Greg Vincent Owns You!" written in bold white font. At ringside, a few kids were cheering for YOUR Entertainment Savior. But obviously they did not know how big of a DICK the MegaSTAR was, no one did. But they were about to get a taste of the MegaSTAR first hand, literally. Greg stopped in front of the kids as they were reaching out for him. All he had to do was slap there hands but instead, he extended his middle finger and flashed it in front of there eyes. Greg then slammed it along his pelvic bone. "Suck it bitches!" The adults supervising the adolescences stormed out of there chairs and lunged at the MegaSTAR but was stopped short by security at the guard rail. Greg pointed with his middle finger and smirked, adding more fuel to the fire. The jOlt fanatics witness the action on the jOltTRON and Greg Vincent was officially a heel. They jeered him as he turned and walked up the steel steps raising a middle finger on one hand and his Iconic chair in the other hand before entering the ring. YOUR Entertainment Savior walked circles in the ring, remembering the path he walked to get here. His career started in the underGround Fighting League. Greg trained as an MMA fighter for years before entering the UFL where he was the five time uF Champion before injuring his collar bone and fracturing both legs. To some his career was over, but for Greg Vincent it was not. Five years later, Greg joined the Universal Wrestling Federation without any wrestling experience. But with am abundant amount of determination, Greg mastered the art of wresting and conquered the amateur group of wrestlers becoming the UwF Hardcore and Universal Champion within a short amount of time. And now as the music slowly faded he stopped center ring and adjusted his genitals before pulling a microphone from his blue and white spandex shorts. "Ladies and Gentlemen of all varieties, allow me to introduce myself…"he paused and shook his head, "Wait…who am I kidding, you bastards aren’t worthy of a proper introduction from the MegaSTAR!" "BOOOOO!" screamed the jOlt Fanatics. "The only thing you posers need to know is that I’ve been brought into jOlt for Entertainment purposes, it has been a little stagnant in that department over the past couple of shows. And before you simple minded fans say…‘Well who the hell are you, we have Superstar Vince Jacobs and SYLO.’ Greg chuckled, "Just let me say this, SVJ is OLD and past his prime! And Sylo…his tits are bigger than Dawn Cassidy’s! How on this earth can that **** be entertaining?" "IT’S NOT!" "And that is why Jim Johnson reached out and offered me a contract. He knows REAL talent when he sees it." "BOOOO!" screamed the jOlt Fanatics once more. "HEY! SHUT IT AND…" Greg reached down and palmed his genitals. "SUCK IT!" "I’m here to make sure that you people get your monies worth. I’m here to make sure there are NO…dull moments in jOlt. In fact, let me introduce you to my little friend." Greg picked up the blue chair with FYE embedded into the seat, and held it for the fans to see. "This is …For Your Entertainment!"he paused long enough to smile as he nodded his head. "Yep…whenever a dull moment occurs, I will rescue you from the mind numbing experience, and For YOUR Entertainment I will smash the **** out of some heads with my Iconic chair. If there is a scene backstage that is just out of your mind boring. I will appear and smash some mother****ing heads!" "BECAUSE…" Greg paused and took a deep breath. "I AM YOUR ENTERTAINMENT SAVIOR!" The MegaSTAR ripped off his shirt and tossed it into the audience. "And now bitches, IT IS TIME FOR SOME REAL JOLT ENTERTAINMENT!" A hush fell over the crowd as the whisper of Equalizer could be heard to the fans excitement. ‘The Equalizer’ Ray Chavez, followed by manager Keith Kane, walked out onto the stage as the jam-packed crowd started their deafening cheers. Ray did not stop though, instead opting to head all the way down to the ring. He was all about business tonight. He definitely was not happy with the loss on last week’s iNtense. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following bout is scheduled for one fall. Approaching the ring first, standing at 6 foot 4, weighing 242 pounds, he is “The Equalizer” Ray Chavez!” Brad Arnold announced as fans continued their cheers. Greg watched as ‘The Equalizer’ stepped through the middle ropes and approached him at the center of the ring. He smirked at Chavez and popped his knuckles. This was the moment he had long hoped for and tonight he would show jOlt nation TRUE Entertainment. Referee Damien Underwood tossed ‘The Iconic Chair’ through the middle rope, landing near Nathan Powers and Michael Buhrman. He turned his attention to both men center ring and signaled for the bell. The bell rang as Keith Kane clapped his hands. DING DING DING. ‘MegaSTAR’ Greg Vincent rolled his head and popped his neck. There was a bit of tension building up as he realized he had to put on a good showing in his first match, especially against a veteran like Chavez. Both men locked up with a collar and elbow tie up. Ray, the more experienced of the two, whipped around with a quick go behind. Greg struggled to break free but Ray would not release. Ray used his power to lift ‘The Megastar’ off the ground and slam him chest-first on the mat. Ray put his opponent in a front headlock, while moving his own body into a prone position for added leverage. Greg, frustrated by the constant holds, began kicking frantically at the mat. Ray still did not release the hold as the referee, Darius Underwood, dropped to one knee in order to check on Vincent. “NO NUMNUTS!” Greg said out of frustration as he was not able to out maneuver Ray Chavez... With a last bit of hope, Greg hopped onto his knees, then all the way up. He delivered two right hands to Ray’s midsection which caused Ray to release the headlock, finally. Quite bitter, Greg pushed Ray back with all his might. Ray reeled backwards a few paces then lunged at Greg with a solid forearm to the head. Greg hit the mat with authority and quickly rolled himself out of the ring. The referee started the count. 1… 2…. Greg saw Ray’s manager, Keith Kane directly to his left. He exchanged to harsh words before flipping him the bird. This was apparently one of his favorite gestures. “I think that one was directed at you Mike,” Nathan said, laughing out loud. Michael Burhman rolled his eyes off camera, “Whatever you say Nathan.” 3… 4… Ray aligned his mask before crouching down a bit, waiting for Greg Vincent to get back into the ring. 5… Greg cautiously jumped up onto the apron, never taking his eyes off Ray. 6… 7… The fans started booing loudly, unhappy with Greg’s cowardice. 8… Greg turned around to the live crowd and, this time, decided to give them two middle fingers. He felt a grab up under his armpit. Before he knew what happened, he was hip tossed back into the ring courtesy of Ray Chavez. The jOlt Fanatics roared with cheers as they witnessed Ray Chavez toss Greg Vincent back into the ring. So far, it looked as if ‘MegaSTAR’ Greg Vincent was nothing more than a mere mouth. The fans smelled redemption as ‘The Equalizer’ manhandled Greg early on. Referee Darius Underwood stopped the count and repositioned himself away from the action. Ray reached down and brought Greg to a vertical position. He spun around and Irish whipped Greg into the turnbuckle. With a burst of speed Ray charged in Greg’s direction, slamming into him with a thunderous clothesline. “The Megastar just learned the hard way that it hurts to be in jOlt!” Nathan exclaimed. Ray walked over to a fallen Greg only to be met with forearm to his groin. The referee warned Greg for the first time in the match. “Oh, come on!” Keith shouted from ringside, upset with the officiating. Ray writhed on the mat in pain, clutching at his throbbing members. Greg, clad with a huge grin, made his way over to Ray and kicked him in the ribs. Ray rolled over onto his stomach. Greg burst into action with several hard stomps to the back followed by three quick elbow drops. The fans were livid and they made their presence felt. Keith wiped the sweat from his brow and faced the crowd. “Let’s go Ray, Let’s go! Let’s go Ray, Let’s go!” he shouted trying to elicit a response from the crowd. They followed in unison, “LET’S GO RAY, LET’S GO! LET’S GO RAY, LET’S GO!” Greg paid no attention to the chants. In fact, he took a moment to turn and flip off the jOlt fanatics once more and then picked up Ray. He drilled him with a few hard rights to the face. Greg sent Ray flying into the ropes and attempted a clothesline, but missed! Ray ducked in the nick of time, bouncing off the ropes for a second time. Greg turned around and was met with a cross body block! 1… 2… KICKOUT!! Both men got up. As a last resort, Greg gave Ray a thumb to the eye that was not covered by his mask. Ray grabbed at his eye, walking in a circle only to receive a devastating standing clothesline, by a waiting ‘Megastar’. Greg quickly dished out some quick stomps, repeatedly on the chest of Chavez. Frustrated with the match, the MegaSTAR mounted Ray and pounded him with hard fists to the face. “1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9” counted Darius Underwood as a warning to Greg Vincent. Greg stood up and picked up Ray by his long flowing hair. “The Pinnacle of jOlt has arrived! Take notice *****!” With that, Greg went to slap Ray across his masked face. Ray dodged and responded with a quick arm drag takedown. And another!! Greg, reeling from the quick moves, ran at Ray. Atomic Drop!! “I guess it’s one/one for nut shots.” Nathan proclaimed. ‘The Equalizer’ charged at Greg and knocked him over the top rope with a spinning lariat! Greg’s body hit the floor with a thud. Keith jollily laughed at ‘The Megstar’s misfortune, giving Ray a thumb up. Before the referee could start the count, Ray exited the ring. He picked up Greg with a firm grasp on his neck. Without warning, Greg drove his knee into Ray’s stomach, driving all the wind out of his lungs. He then tackled Ray back first into the ring. Greg followed up with a European uppercut. “I AM YOUR ENTERTAINMENT SAVIOR!” he shouted at the crowd. Boos followed. Greg pointed at Keith with his middle finger, “This one’s for you, numnuts!” Greg unloaded on ‘The Equalizer’ with a flurry of right hands, each one more impactful than the next. To ‘The Megastar’s surprise, Ray hoisted him in the air, his arms wrapped around Greg’s legs. Ray turned around and dropped Greg’s body over the announce table!! The crowd cheered for that! “Whoa, that almost broke our announce table!” Michael shouted, standing up. Ray took a moment to catch his breath as Greg finally rolled off the table in exquisite pain. The crowd had not noticed the referee had already started the count. 1… 2… Greg tried desperately to shake off the cobwebs. He went for a short clothesline. Ray noticed and sidestepped. 3… 4… Greg managed to stop himself before collided with the steel ring post. He turned around and hit Chavez with a drop toe hold which sent Ray’s shoulder into the ring post. Ray gritted his teeth, the pain shooting down his entire arm. He had no choice but to rest for a second in hopes the pain would subside, his arm still wrapped around the post. 5… Greg was dismayed with his difficult opponent. This was HIS debut in jOlt and all be damned if it was going to be ruined by ‘The Equalizer.’ With boredom lingering in the back of his mind, he decided it was time to debut ‘The Iconic Chair’. Greg walked over to the announcers table and grabbed the blue chair with ‘FYE’ embedded onto the seat. He looked at Michael and Nathan and smirked, “Watch this shit!” he said. CRACK!! The sound could be heard throughout the arena as the chair smashed into the back of Ray’s skull and a part of the ring post. “What the hell is that!?” Keith shouted, running over to his fallen client. Greg replied, “That was FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!  The referee called for the bell. Ray would win this one by a disqualification, but the damage had been done. Of all places to hit, Ray truly wished it had not been his, already injured, head. He lay sprawled out on the floor, clutching his throbbing head, the crimson color of blood already covering most of his hand. Brad stood up, “Your winner of the match as a result of a disqualification, ‘The Equalizer’ Ray Chavez.” The cheers were minimal as many looked on with worried expressions on their face. A few women and children could be seen with tear-filled eyes and hands covering their mouths as ‘MegaSTAR’ Greg Vincent hovered over Chavez, taunting him. "Suck it, Ray!" Greg said as he held out both middle fingers and crossed his arms slamming them across his pelvic bone DX style. With the match officially over and Chavez the victor via DQ, Greg reached down and picked up the Iconic Chair with the face of ‘Equalizer’ Ray Chavez embedded into it. He looked up and spotted referee Darius Underwood who was shouting at the MegaSTAR to stop the brutality. BUT…YOUR Entertainment Savior smirked because he knew what was coming next. "OHHHH DARIUS!" he said. "Come here Darius!" Greg quickly slid into the ring with the Iconic Chair and popped up in Darius Underwood’s face looking down at the referee. "Those were some pretty fast counts Darius, were you trying to fuck me?" Greg asked knowing Darius did nothing wrong. He just needed an excuse for what was coming. Granted it wasn’t a very good excuse, but there had to be some sort of an explanation for CEO Damien Lee for the following actions. "Greg…I did nothing…" Of course he would be cut short by MegaSTAR Greg Vincent as he dropped the Iconic Chair and flung his middle finger in the referee’s face. YOUR CLIMAX TONIGHT! Greg quickly kicked Darius Underwood in the nutsack, causing him to double over with both hands between his legs. The MegaSTAR bent over with his head tilted and locked eyes with Darius. "There better not be a next time…YOU HEAR ME!" Of course Darius was speechless, he was choking on his own nutsack. "Oh and Darius…" Greg stood tall and raised both arms into the air. He extended both middle fingers and you know what happened next. "Suck IT!" DX Style. YOUR Entertainment Savior walked around the ring and focused on the jOlt Fanatics which had been booing him for nearly twenty minutes. But Greg Vincent was not satisfied, they just weren’t loud enough. SO… For YOUR Entetainment… Greg picked up the Iconic Chair and bashed it over Darius' skull forcing blood to spray out from the opening on his forehead. The MegaSTAR‘s amusement bar had finally peaked as did the jeers from the thirty thousand plus fans in attendance. The Emergency crew rushed onto the scene as did head referee Mike Hunt and his employees, to check the status of their friend and co-worker, Darius Underwood. The scene began to fade with Greg Vincent smiling and back peddling up the ramp watching EMT's lift the referee onto a stretcher. 
“What was that again, Lee my boy, speak UP I’m obviously too old to be re-signed Jolt when you decided to bring it back! You needed to fill jOlt, emphasis on the O, Jolt Wrestling, whatever the fuck we’re calling it this time out, with the DRECK of another dead fed instead.”
Kenjiro Ito, the first ever Ambassador Champion of Jolt and the final Triple Crown Champion, sat across from Damien Lee in the office of the current man in charge of Jolt’s day-to-day operations since the destruction of Jim Johnson. Lee tightly held his hands together, on his desk, and breathed deeply. “It’s nice to have you join me here today.” Damien Lee said, again evidently, and he seemed to bristle under needing to repeat himself for a man as brash as Ito. “Oh no, I’m glad a man such as yourself… what are you now Lee? The Owner? General Manager? Executive… Producer?” Ito waved off even caring about that detail, like it was a fly, as he propped his feet up on Lee’s desk, “I’m glad the man who signs the fucking checks is smart enough to negoiate a contract… ‘cause I was JUST getting started at Warriors 2.” “Now, what you did for Jolt in the past, has not been forgotten,” Lee began, as he unclasped his hands and resting them on his desk. Before the current head of operations could continue though, Ito had to add his two cents. “The fuck it hasn’t! I’ve done more IN Jolt and FOR Jolt then any son of a b*tch on your roster… and not ONE of my accolades is even on that eye sore of a website that you’ve got!” Ito tossed his legs off the desk and leaned forward, “And just because they aren’t on the website doesn’t mean that any piece of tin brought forward and put on some BRANDON BLADE, so that sh*theads the likes of Superstar Vince Jacobs and Sylo can fight over ‘em stand for JACK OR SQUAT!” Damien Lee bit his bottom lip, luckily the spittle that had propelled itself from Ito’s lips hadn’t reached him on the other side of his desk… or else he wouldn’t be able to control himself so easily. Lee was trying to be cordial, and make sure this potential new power play was signed back into Jolt with the least amount of headache. “Now,” Lee started and this time continued without pause to assure Ito wouldn’t interrupt him, “If it’s a Jolt Championship shot you want, we can write this into your contract. In fact, I’ve been banging around an idea for a #1 contenders match for the Jolt Championship at Divide & Conquer… and you’d be a perfect participant for it…” “Contenders match, huh?” Ito put his hand on his chin in mock thought, as Lee’s hopeful gaze started to fall, and the Japanese star’s next words once again cracked Lee’s hopes for a cordial contract discussion, “How can I be the contender… when I AM THE MAN WHO SHOULD BE RECOGNIZED BY THIS PLACE AS ITS CHAMPION?!” “So you can prove your worth in gold, just like everyone else.” Ito jumped to his feet, the unknown voice behind him catching the last Triple Crown Champion off guard. The Bad Will Ambassador came face to face with none other then Phoenix, one of Jolt’s newest and brightest lights, a tall and a slender man in a white mask emblazoned with a golden Phoenix. The tights he wore made him look like the Golden Man on Fire. “Damn it.” Damien Lee had seen Phoenix approach Ito, but hadn’t been able to say anything over the Bringer of the Ice Age’s rant. Lee could only lay his head in his hands; he wanted ORDER in Jolt, not a fight at every contract signing. Phoenix however, seemed to have the same idea. “I’m not here to fight. I however cannot stand by and watch you bully a well meaning man, such as Damien Lee.” “I’m sorry, you masked boy scout, but who the fuck are you?” Ito was incredulous, how DARE this newbie get in the way of his negotiating with the old boss, “If you can’t stand by, then get to walking before I crack head open and start a new ICE AGE!” “The fire I bring in the ring will melt through your ice any day!” Phoenix growled, as the crowd cheered on his relatively cheesy bon mot. After all the good words from this newcomer, the Jolt fans were excited to see Phoenix finally compete! Especially after his debut match against One Eye was sadly scuttled after the mysterious attack on the Mask Enigma. “Mr. Lee, I came to talk to you about a match against Derecho… but honestly, the Underground Champion can wait. My honor, and the honor of my friends, pales in comparison to the once and future greatness of this organization.” Phoenix boomed, before ending with, “I challenge you to a match, Kenjiro Ito. If you can defeat me, THEN you can get your contract. If not… you have no worth to Jolt!” “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ SERIOUS?!” Ito chuckled, before turning to Lee, “Is this bird man fuckin’ serious? He has even fought ONE match in Jolt. I’m the first Ambassador Champion. The last Triple Crown Champion. I’m The Future of Wrestling! Mine should have been the first signature put to paper in this company, and now I have to FIGHT for my spot on the roster?! Unacceptable! I’m THE CHAMPION!” Phoenix stood tall, not wavering, as he lowered his gaze on Kenjiro Ito, “Is that doubt or is it fear that I hear in your voice?” Ito scrunched up his face, his nose snorted as if trying to keep out the smell of bullshit in his mind. Kenjiro turned to Damien Lee, and the man in charge shrugged with a faint smile. “Just win and you’re in, Mr. Ito.” Brooding to hell and back, Kenjiro Ito turned his attention back to Phoenix and sized up the heroic Jolt newcomer. “Deal.”  Sweet, Sweet Lovin' vs. Heirs of Wrestling  
“Forever (Travis Barker Remix)” by Drake. The lights dimmed to a single spotlight. And in this giant spotlight, the fans booed the presence of the self-proclaimed tag team dynasty. Frank Silver, Ryan Gallway, flanked by their friend and big bodyguard, Mack Brody, appeared ready for action for the third straight edition of iNtense. The ring announcer was ready to make the call for the next match to commence “First, making their way to the ring... being accompanied to the ring by Frank Silver, hailing from a wonderful Summer residence in Palm Springs, Califonia... at a combined weight of 500 pounds, they are the team of Ryan Gallway and Mack Brody... The Heirs of Wrestling!” The modern-day freebirds of jOlt were se to have their third and final tag team combination of the 6'6” and 320-pound Mack Brody with the 5'8” and 180-pound bundle of dynamite called Ryan Gallway. Gallway talked some crap to the crowd while Mack walked behind him. Frank was dressed in a VERY NICE black suit, looking all kinds of snazzy. Mack and Ryan looked ready for their opposition. “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith. The fans started to cheer on the team coming out next. The combined mass of Lennox Love along with the massive and fun-loving Sam Sweet trailed behind them, ready to score themselves their first win as a tag team. “And their opponents, at a combined weight of 554 pounds, they are the team of Sam Sweet and Lennox Love...SWEET SWEET LOVIN!” The tall and lanky Lennox Love would be joining forces with the portly powerhouse Sam Sweet on this occasion, hoping to make an effective combination. Love even got a kiss or two from some single ladies in the front row before he joined Sweet in the ring. DING DING! Ryan Gallway was going to kick things off for his team with Lennox Love right in the middle while Frank and Mack watched on. Lennox had the decided height and reach standing 6'5” and 222, but Ryan was known for being the best technical wrestler in the Heirs camp, so he was ready to go. “I'm ready for this, you dirty-ass hippie!” Ryan taunted. “You get any of that pot smell on my new tights, and you're gonna be sorry!” He charged at Lennox, but the taller wrestler grabbed him by the arm and slinged him over with an over-the-shoulder Hip Toss! Before Ryan knew what the hell hit him he was taken over again, this time with a Japanese-style Arm Drag. Gallway was back up and this time, Love kicked him in the chest and snapped him up and over with a quick Flapjack! With a loud shout to the crowd, he pushed Gallway down and hooked the legs. ONE! TWO... NO! Ryan kicked out quickly. Love pulled him back to his feet and whipped the Prince of Precision into the corner and tried to charge at him, but Gallway rolled over him and landed on his feet. He tapped his head to show the crowd that he was too smart for Love, but he turned around and got MOLLYWHOPPED by one heck of a Flying Leg Lariat from The Love Doctor! Frank and Mack both shook their heads in disbelief while Love went for a second cover. ONE! TWO! THR... NO! Sam Sweet clapped from the apron and cheered on his tag team partner while Love took Gallway to the ropes. He tossed a couple jabs into the direction of Ryan and kicked him in the gut. He tried for a slam again, but Ryan slipped out the back and staggered back into the corner. He ran forward and went for a slam, but Ryan slipped through the ropes and crashed into the corner. Ryan ran over and tagged in Mack Brody and the big guy walked over the ropes Love tried to recover from his bad landing, but Brody CLUBBED him hard in the back of the head with a nasty shot. He tossed Lennox into the corner and while The Love Doctor was slumped over, Mack grabbed Ryan and launched him across the ring into a whip... FALLING COMET CRASH! The Running Double Knee Strike from Gallway caught Love in the chest, but that wasn't over as Mack Brody came in with a Corner Clothesline smashing him in the corner. The one-two combination from the Heirs doubled Love over in the corner and Mack pushed him to the ground before going for the cover. ONE! TWO! THRE... KICK OUT! It was a pretty lazy cover on Mack's part so Love was able to get the shoulder up pretty easily. Mack Brody pulled Love back up by his hair and drove a knee into the stomach of the Love Doctor. Sam Sweet tried to cheer on his partner from the apron while Mack tossed another knee in the stomach. The Bronze Bomber picked up Love and slammed him into the mat before heading to the second rope. He used it and jumped off the second rope, dropping a big elbow across the chest of Love! He pushed him down to the ground again and this time, went for a closer cover. ONE! TWO! THR... KICK OUT! Yet again, Love kicked out, but this time Mack was getting a little bit more angry. He pulled The Love Doctor up to his feet and slapped on a Bearhug, now wearing him out with the submission hold. “BREAK HIM!” Frank coached from ringside as he watched on. “BREAK HIM IN HALF!” Mack was trying to do just that as he now lifted him up, shaking him in a violent manner and trying to wear him out. The fans started cheering and lending their support to Love as he tried to break free from the big man's grip. Unfortunately he was unable to do anything about the fact since Mack was way too strong. So instead, he did what else he could do. He boxed the ears of the big man several times and even sacrificed his good looks to fire off a headbutt or two to finally make Mack let go. Mack was mad, checking his own facial features to make sure his face was intact. Love went for a Dropkick, but Mack swatted him away sending him crashing to the canvas. Love had no time to recover as Mack launched him by the arms and Irish whipped him into the ropes. “I'll teach you to headbutt me in the moneymaker...” Mack muttered. He charged in... Love moved! Mack crashed into the turnbuckle and stumbled backwards so that way Love could reach the second turnbuckle and fly off with a Missile Dropkick that knocked down the big man! Love crawled over to his side of the ring where Sam Sweet was waiting to get the tag, holding out his hand. The Love Doctor crawled over and made his way to his tag team partner while Mack went for the ropes... TAG! Ryan got into the ring and was ready to get going... But unfortunately for him, so was Sam Sweet! The big man got into the ring and 6'3” and 332 mowed through a cruiserweight pretty easily with a Shoulder Block! Gallway tried to get back up again, but this time a forceful Clothesline from the big man knocked him right over. Unfortunately for Ryan, the third time ducking a Clothesline and trying for a Springboard Crossbody was NOT the charm. He was TOSSED across the ring with a big Fallaway Slam! Mack tried coming to his partner's aid, but all that got him was a running kick to the face, courtesy of Sweet and knocking him off the apron. Ryan Gallway was all shook up while Frank was beside himself, not wanting to get shown up by the SSW teaming up for the first time in jOlt. He grabbed Gallway in a whip and caught him HARD in the corner with a Corner Clothesline of his own before he tossed him across the other side... SWEET AND SOUR! The Corner Clothesline followed by the Body Avalanche on the opposite end crushed him in the corner. He tossed Gallway out of the corner and hurriedly went for the cover, trying to wrap this up and score the big upset. ONE! TWO! THR... SAVED BY MACK BRODY! The match could've very well been over there, but there wasn't enough time. Lennox Love caught Mack with a second Dropkick and sent the big man staggering to the outside. Sweet pushed Gallway into the corner and tried to cut him off from his tag team partner while Love went after Mack on the outside. The referee was distracted by Love and Brody brawling outside the ring, so he didn't see Frank sneak inside the squared circle to deliver a HARD Chop Block right to Sam Sweet's knee! The crowd booed the hell out of Silver as he sneaked out of the ring before the referee was any wiser. Sweet collapsed, holding his knee in pain while Frank tried to fix up his coat, making sure the referee was clueless to his transgressions. Love tried coming to the aid of his partner, but Brody blocked him and TOSSED him hard into the steel steps! Ryan was on the top rope now and looked out to the crowd with a cocky smirk across his face... THE GATES OF EUROPA! The 450 Splash of his own connected and crashed right onto big Sam Sweet, driving all the air out from the big man. Ryan rolled over after the vicious impact and tagged in Mack Brody, who was ready and waiting to finish him off. He kicked Sweet in the gut and with amazing strength, he hoisted him high over his head... THE MIDAS TOUCH! The Running Powerbomb took great strength from Mack Brody, but he had enough to drop Sweet hard into the canvas. He hooked the leg and went for the academic cover. ONE! TWO! THREE!  And that logged in another successful win for the Heirs of Wrestling! Mack stood up and he and Ryan Gallway had his arm raised by the referee as Frank walked up the steps and headed into the ring to join them. Love was still hurt on the outside while Sweet had no idea what the hell had just hit him. And unfortunately for the crowd, Frank Silver had a microphone. “CUT THE DAMN MUSIC!” He shouted as the victory music of the Heirs cut out. Gallway and Mack were both dripping with sweat, but were winners once again. Ryan pulled the mic to himself and yelled out to the booing crowd. “HE SAID CLOSE YOUR NOISEHOLES!” Frank had a cocky smile on his face once again as trainers were attending to both Love and Sweet, taking them to the back. Silver was tired of waiting for the angry crowd to die down and talked over them. “That makes three now! Three different tag teams... The FBI... The RingRats... now THESE posers trying to pass themselves as worthy competition. We beat them all handily and without incident. Beat them FAIR. AND. SQUARE!” The fans continued to boo. Frank was a lying sack of crap and they outright cheated to win two of their last three matches. But nevertheless, Frank continued on. “Three editions of iNtense. Three combinations of the Heirs, all victorious. How many other tag teams in this business can say that? NONE, that's who! Everywhere we've gone, every place from low-budget crapholes in Canada all the way to the top of other national promotions multiple times. We have won gold EVERYWHERE we've been! Now... there's a pair of jOlt Tag Team Titles that have been without worthy wearers in some time. They're out there, begging for REAL men to hold them. And from this moment forward, we're through cutting through this tag team division. We're coming for those belts. And soon enough, those title belts will belong to the Heirs. Want to know why ” All three men nodded and shouted into the microphone simultaneously. “BECAUSE WE ARE YOUR BETTER!” “Forever” played up again as Frank dropped the microphone while he, Ryan, and Mack left the ring, happy with their third victory in as many shows. It had been said it would only be a matter of time before the tag team titles were in their sights. It appeared that the time was indeed now.  
It was almost as if the last week of The Russian Bombshell Natalia’s life had been nothing more than a dream as she came out of the women's locker room, her beautiful face locked in confidence, and every inch of her was held with perfect placement. “You didn’t wash your hands,” A voice quietly said. Once again almost. “How dare you-” She stopped mid sentence to see Sylo leaned casually against the cement wall. Those two cranes he called arms were locked across his chest as he didn’t even look at Natalia. She let out a gasp and all confidence seemed to leave her. “Jay, last week, it wasn’t what you-” Sylo freed one hand and held it up to silence Natalia. “Wasted breath. I told you it was a war. You didn’t believe me. I was about to end Jacobs. You gave him a way out. It’s simple logic and I get it. What better way to end my rampage and save Vinny at the same time? Give me a win over the champion even if it was a DQ it was still a win, right? At the same time you kept Vince from the same fate that other men had met before him.” Sylo didn’t yell or scream or roar. He simply leaned against the wall, not even looking at Natalia, as she stood in shock. She lowered her head, staring at the expensive shoes she wore, because there was no arguing with the truth. She could deny it but she knew he’d know. She could make excuses from now until the end of time but at the core, Sylo knew why she had done what she had. “I..did. I handed him the belt. I knew he wasn’t going to defeat you. I knew you were on the verge of hurting him,” Natalia wouldn’t look up and Sylo wouldn’t even glance over at her. “The Legacy of Champions was a place that would employ those that the industry had deemed unworthy. It was a place that let new stars rise and old stars shine. It was a place of not only judgement but also redemption. They bet on me. They bet on Ninja K. They bet on Vince. They even bet on you.” Those words cut Natalia. But she still couldn’t deny the truth. “Last week I could have taken the Legacy title home. Vince would have went to the hospital but he would have been right back here before long doing what Vince does. My war would have ended and I would have been gone but now, Natalia, because of your actions,” Sylo turned toward her for the first time. He let those eerie blue eyes glow behind a veil of black hair. “The blood I spill, the destruction I cause, the careers I end, and the man that would use you as a fucking human shield,” Ouch. “Will all be on your conscience.” Ouch x2. “I hope it was worth it Natalia. I hope it was worth proving that the only thing Vince Jacobs cares about is gold. I hope it was worth losing one of the only people that would generally stick up for your sorry ass. I hope it was worth this thing becoming a blood bath the likes of no one has ever seen. I will get to Jacobs. I will take not only the Legacy title now but also the jOlt Heavyweight title. Oh, and if I see an opening, I will make what I did all those others look like a day at the park.” Sylo pushed with his shoulders and stood up right before rolling his neck a little. “Starting tonight. You’ve changed the entire game. I hope you can sleep at night because we’re all just actors now, performing out the play you wrote.” Ouch x3 and the trifecta. Sylo bowed a little to Natalia with a small sneer before turning his back on her. She just fell against the wall sliding down before she fell in a seated position. She watched, wide eyed, as Sylo casually disappeared down the hallway. All she could do was hug her knees and hope she would wake from this nightmare.
Unfortunately, this was just the beginning.
 Khristain Keller vs. One Eye  
And that was that. With a sly look towards the champion at the top of the ramp, Keller rolled out of the ring and took in the adulation of his victory. In his little world that is. 
Natalia sat on the floor still sobbing after that recent confrontation with Sylo. Vince Jacobs finally walked through the backstage area, looking for Natalia. He saw Natalia on the ground and rushed over to her. The champion bent down as he pulled Natalia’s head from her lap.“What the hell happened here, Nat?” Vince said trying to console his partner. Natalia trying to fight back the tears as she looked up at Vince. SVJ slowly helped Natalia to her feet as the Legacy Champion looked very concerned that the Russian hottie was upset. Jacobs tried to get Natalia to calm down so he could get a straight answer from her. Jacobs put his hand on Natalia’s chin, lifting her face up toward his. “What happened here?” Natalia looked at Vince as the champion knew she didn’t want to say what really happened. Eyes red from the sobbing she was able to compose herself and say what happened. “I don’t want you to get mad at what I am about to say.” Vince looked at Natalia. “Just say it. I never want to see you hurt.” Natalia put her head down. “I was talking to Jay again and he...” Vince started to fume at what Natalia started to say. He could not hold his anger in but he wanted to keep his cool for Natalia. Jacobs looked at Natalia. “He is on this quest to keep Legacy of Champions alive. He thinks that don’t care about the company and all you are worried about is being the last Legacy Champion.” “Did he touch you? Because if he did...” Vince was quickly cut off by Natalia. “Vince, Jay did not put a hand on me. Did you hear me Vince?” Jacobs was pissed as he punched the wall behind Natalia. Natalia did not want to get Vince riled up and she knew what Sylo was capable of. She tried to calm Vince down as he was irate. SVJ sighed. “Yes I heard you Natalia. Why would I care about a dead company? I have been in this business for many years and if I harbored feelings over every dead company from my past I would not be where I am today.” “But Vince...” Natalia tried to speak but Vince cut her off. “Natalia you have to move on. I know that place gave you your break but you have to realize that we have the opportunity to do bigger things here instead of wasting our time on a company that will never see the light of day ever again. But as far as Sylo goes this has gone far enough.” “Vince calm down. I know what Jay can do and...” Vince quickly put his hand up to stop Natalia. “Yeah but you haven’t been with me long enough to know what I am capable of doing. I’m tired of this crap. I’m going to find Sylo and put an end to this.” Natalia tried to grab Vince’s arm to stop him. “No Vince don’t go. Jay is dangerous.” “I’m not like these wrestlers in the back. I’m not worried about Sylo, he should be worried about me.” Vince pulled away from Natalia and walked down the hall. Natalia gave chase to her partner. “SYLO!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Jacobs screamed as he walked down the backstage hallway. Natalia walking behind him trying to get him to calm down. “Sylo you want me so bad, well here I am. Show your damn face.” Vince continued through the backstage area when he heard someone from the nearby tech area. “You looking for me Vinny.” Jacobs turned around and saw Sylo leaning up against a tech cart. The Legacy Champion walked right over to Sylo who stood towering over Vince Jacobs who was no small man at six feet five inches. Vince did what most men would not dare do and that was to stand toe to toe with the massive Sylo. Jacobs smirked as he looked up at Sylo. “Yeah I am looking for a man that made a woman cry. Or should I call you a man since you like picking on innocent women instead of bring your problems directly to me like a man.” Sylo laughed. “Big talk from a man that used that Russian beauty as a human meat shield last Sunday. The things I said to Natalia were true and if they caused tears I can’t help that. You know what they say, the truth hurts.” Jacobs gritted his teeth. “See the problem that I have is that when that woman is in pain then I tend to cause pain. And since I didn’t embarrass you enough last Sunday then I think I just do something that these men back here are afraid to do.” “Have to try and keep up some illusion of honor, right Vincent? So I’ll play along. So what would that be Vinny?” Sylo said calmly. “Beat you within an inch of your life.” Jacobs said as he rushed at Sylo slamming both men over one of the heavy tech carts. jacobs started to land blows at Sylo who countered with blows of his own as the two men rolled on the floor throwing punches. Neither man was able to get an advantage until Vince quickly got to his feet. Jacobs kicked Sylo in his ribs before jumping back on the monster nailing him with everything he had. Sylo pushed Vince away as he tried to get to his feet. This gave Sylo a little breathing room as Jacobs came back as was met with a big right hand that sent the champion to the floor. Vince held his jaw before getting back to his feet. However, before either men could go at it again a whole slew of wrestlers and jOlt officials came rushing backstage to break the two men up. Both men continued to point and yell. Vince being held back by Mike Extreme, Derecho, Nashvillain, the West Texas Terrorists and officials. Sylo being held back by the Avispa Clan, JCON, Reno Davis, newcomer Phoenix, more jOlt officials and Adam Lazarus. “You’re weak Sylo. You fight for a long dead company because you can not move forward. You live in the past but I on the other hand live in the now. You think I care about Legacy of Champions, good riddance I say.” Sylo was hot as he broke through the sea of men and lunged for Jacobs nailing the Legacy Champion with big clubbing blows. The sea of wrestlers and officials jumped in to pull the massive man off of Jacobs. “At Least I’m fighting for something Vince. What do you fight for? Oh yeah yourself. You care about nothing Vince but lining your pockets with money and adorning your waist with gold. I care about a place that gave all of us a shot at doing something special. That place even gave you a shot and I for one will never let it die.” Vince gathered himself and smiled at Sylo. He assured the men that were holding him he was fine before he launched himself over the top of the Avispa Clan, landing on Sylo taking him and a few officials down to the floor. Vince nailed Sylo with some right hands before Derecho, Nashvillain, and WTT was able to pull him off. Jacobs was panting as his former Team Johnson members pulled him back from the SuperBeast. Sylo started to get to his feet as well as more wrestlers came into the scene to hold the SuperBeast back. “You call this a war? Then you got one Sylo. I will bury you with that failed company you so valiantly fight for.” Jacobs said as Derecho and Nashvillain pulled the champ away. Natalia looked at Sylo before running around the corner with Vince, the Underground Champion, and the Relentless Champion. Kenjiro Ito vs. Phoenix 
That man? He came out from the back to no music, presumably because the company had no desire to pay royalty rights for a theme song if he was going to be one and done. Even so, though, Kenjiro Ito grimaced and talked shit his entire way down the aisle, to fans, to the ringside technicians, and especially to the Phoenix, the man in the middle of the ring who was his appointment tonight. The bell hadn’t rung yet, but both men went nose to nose. Particularly good lip-readers could see that they were having quite the conversation. Both men were chomping at the bit, so the referee decided to waste no time and just get the party started. *DING DING DING* Phoenix greeted Ito back to a jOlt ring at the bell with a stinging, vicious knife-edge chop. Two more caught Ito flush on the chest, and by the time he moved to block, Phoenix swung all the way around with a spinning back chop to the neck area that staggered Ito back into the ropes. The Man on Fire moved in to follow up, only to be rocked with a violent forearm-elbow from the Bringer of the Ice Age. Ito followed by throwing a knee-strike to the abdomen, before Irish whipping Phoenix off the ropes. As he came back, Ito elevated him in the air with a huge flapjack, before catching him on the way down to complete the K-CUTTER! “Place is still as easy as ever,” Ito snorted, rolling over the Phoenix. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Phoenix still seemingly had a lot left in the tank though. As Ito tried to pull him back up, the Man on Fire scored with two more quick knife-edge chops that staggered Kenjiro. Phoenix had a definitive speed advantage, and he looked to make use of it, dropkicking out Kenjiro Ito’s knee, and quickly rising one more time to fire a second dropkick to the head that sent the 252 pounder down to the canvas. A standing moonsault was in the cards next, and Phoenix hooked one of Ito’s legs for the early nearfall attempt. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! “Men like you don’t deserve jOlt contracts,” Phoenix retorted, voice solemn…until Kenjiro blatantly thumbed him in the throat, earning a sharp reprisal from the official. Not that Ito cared; he had control of the contest back. “Assholes finish first. Nice guys don’t finish at all cause they’re too busy trying to make sure the girl gets off,” were Ito’s sage words to the Phoenix, as he pulled the smaller man in, hooking the arm and the leg, before taking him over with the Bad Will Ambassador’s patented bridging Exploder, the BLIZZARD SUPLEX! ONE! TWO! THR—KICKOUT! The resultant obscenity was bleeped out. The Blizzard Suplex had won Ito many matches before. Was it possible he was slipping? It had been years since his time in a jOlt ring. Phoenix was weathering the proverbial blizzard with aplomb, though he still looked a little the worse for wear as Ito slung him into the ropes. The firebird ducked underneath a left-armed lariat thrown with malicious intent, and came back off the far side ropes with a huge huracanrana that brought the crowd to its feet and sent Ito tuckus over teakettle to the canvas. Backing up several steps, Phoenix waited until Ito was on his knees, then ran, catching the Bringer of the Ice Age with an impressive looking swinging basement DDT, SPIKING Ito on his dome on the canvas! With the advantage now firmly in his favor, Phoenix looked skyward, and quickly hopped out to the ring apron, ascending to the top turnbuckle. “He calls this Ashes to Ashes,” Michael Buhrman exclaimed, on commentary, “and it’s one of the prettiest shooting star presses you’ll ever see, but…” The match was barely five minutes old. On the mat, Kenjiro Ito looked up at the Phoenix, perched on the top rope, and immediately decided to play dead. It was easier than it might have been considering the headache Phoenix gave him. When Phoenix looked back down, he saw a motionless Kenjiro. The Phoenix spread his wings and flew, but the landing was, unfortunately, a crash and burn. “He went for it too soon,” Nathan Powers said, to his partner. “Not the first time someone’s made that mistake under the bright lights of a jOlt ring.” The Bringer of the Ice Age had executed the simplest counter in the business, a simple roll out of the way. With the would-be protector of jOlt on the canvas, clutching at his ribcage in pain, Ito grabbed the Phoenix by the hair, pulling him up into position, and crossed his arms. Again, Mr. Buhrman was there with the scoop. “This was Kenjiro Ito’s calling card during his jOlt tenure, a cross-arm sitdown powerbomb that he calls Ito’s Ice Age. In six months, not one person kicked out of it!” Up went Phoenix. Down went Phoenix. And as the official dropped down to count, this meeting of fire and ice had resulted in the inevitable. Fire might be able to melt ice, but the resultant water put out the flames of the Phoenix. ONE! TWO! THREE! *DING DING DING* And with that, jOlt had a brand, spanking new roster member, and his name was Kenjiro Ito. May God have mercy on the old dame's soul. 
"Bane! Bane! Can I get a word with you?"
Bane Loneheart, former International Champion and former Underground #1 Contender Tournament entrant, was being rushed by Donny Layne and a camera crew while he stomped through a hallway backstage. Caught off-guard, he drew his newly patented lead pipe over his head ready to attack. "Are ye kiddin' me right now?! This innae good time, Donny!" Undeterred, Donny Layne shoved a microphone right into Bane's face. "I just wanted to get your feelings about Adam Lazarus and how he managed to eliminate you from the Underground #1 Contender's Tournament despite you attacking him with that lead pipe days earlier." "Yeah, well ...," Bane said while leaning his ear on a nearby locker room door, "you just wait right here for a second and you'll find out first-hand what I feel about it." The door opened. Adam Lazarus stepped out. "Hey Donny, I --" *CRACK!* "ARGH!" Adam Lazarus again felt the effects of Bane Loneheart's lead pipe to his knee. Laz hopped on one leg and managed to jump over another swing from Bane. Meanwhile, Donny Layne was crouched down on the ground with his hands covering the top of his head as if that would somehow save him. Another swing and a miss by Loneheart, as Laz once again leapt over the lead pipe. Bane went to swing a third time and Laz jumped yet again, so Bane quickly changed targets to Laz's ribcage. *WHUNK!* Laz hit the cold cement hard and immediately curled into the fetal position. Bane turned his attention to the camera's lens. "Let this be a warning to everyone. I willnae be desrespected anymore! This is --" A roundhouse sweep left nothing but Bane Loneheart's lead pipe in the camera's view, spiraling in the air before landing right on top of Bane Loneheart's chest. Laz quickly mounted Loneheart and began laying into shoulders and arms with shot of shot from that lead pipe while Bane attempted to cover up. Laz was fed up and if Damien Lee wasn't going to actually do something to stop these attacks then Adam Lazarus would take matters into his own hands. "This is the last time you come at me with this thing, bro! You want to fight me, then you fight me in the ring! Otherwise, you stay the hell out of my way or I will kick your damn head off!" jOlt security quickly arrived on the scene, as well as a furious Damien Lee. "That is it!" he screamed, "Laz! As of right now you are suspended!" Being held back by two security guards Laz's eyes bulged out of their sockets, "I'M SUSPENDED?! LEE, HE ATTACKED ME FIRST!" "I don't care who attacked who first, I saw you attacking him! Get him out of my building!" "LEE! He came after me first, man! I was just defending myself! Lee ...!" Being dragged by security, a kicking and screaming Adam Lazarus disappeared down the hallway. And as Damien Lee hovered over a beaten, yet smiling, Bane Loneheart iNtense moved elsewhere. Mike Extreme vs. Adam Lazarus  
The luckiest man in jOlt was making his way to the ring. Mike Extreme's smile (read: snarl) was apparant (-ly impossible for him to do) and his celebratory demeanor was echoed by his manager and valet. Extreme happily strolled to the ring knowing that his opponent for the Underground #1 Contender's Tournament, Adam Lazarus, had just been kicked out of the building and suspended by a fed up Damien Lee. Once inside Violet fixed her skin-tight skirt that had ridden up almost to the Promised Land and called for a microphone. "It's funny, isn't it? The lengths some men will take in order to not face The Extreme One." The jOlt faithful were not laughing. "Not only did Adam Lazarus get himself suspended in order to avoid having to come face-to-face in this ring with the one, true Extreme Legend ... he did so by viciously attacking an innocent Bane Loneheart." BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! "I know, it's disgusting." Violet turned to her client who nodded in approval while Misty Gold, his girlfriend, ran her hands up and down his abdomen. "But can you reall fault Adam? I know I can't. Just look at this specimen of manhood that stands before you. He's carved out of stone. He's tough as nails. And he will become your next Underground Champion, make no mistake about that." The fans seemed not to agree with Violet's statements but no one inside that ring cared what the fans thought, so everyone was content. "You know what? You don't deserve to sit in awe of Mike Extreme any longer. Your price of admission doesn't come nearly close to covering the value you are receiving at this very moment. So, referee, do what you do best. Name Mike Extreme the winner of this contest and raise his hand." Again Ian Nyugen drew the unpleasant task of refereeing a Mike Extreme non-match. He walked over, lifted Extreme's right arm, and called for the bell. *DING-DING-DING*  Violet was quick to pounce on ring announcer Brad Arnold. "DO YOUR JOB! TELL US WHO WON THIS MATCH!" "The winner of this match ... by forfeit ... MIKE EXTREME!" Another quick and easy victory for the Extreme Legend in a match that never happened. Another entirely too long celebration by Misty Gold and Violet. Mike Extreme would move on in the Underground #1 Contender's Tournament and hopefully his next opponent would make his way to the ring.
Alone again.Why did it feel as though there was a lot more down time each week? Thanks to Lee bringing some bitch in to stop the attacks Sylo had to rethink his strategy. It wasn’t the fact he was afraid of a fine, a suspension, or even termination of his contract but he couldn’t let it end like this. He’d come to far and even though Jacobs thought it was over, even though Jacobs continued to stack the deck, Sylo wasn’t about to give in. Not this time. If it meant playing by the rules long enough to get his hands on Jacobs and then walk out of jOlt it was all worth it. All these thoughts and memories are what fueled the beast. It had worked so far and even the fans, who adored him for some reason, had bestowed yet another nickname he hadn’t asked for on him. It wasn’t The SuperBeast, it wasn’t The King, it wasn’t The Destroyer or The One Man Wrecking Crew, hell it wasn’t even The Rider of the Pale Horse; Death. He had become, by their proclamation, by their voice... jOlt’s reckoning. It wasn’t even about jOlt or any of the former stars. Brandon Blade was the only collateral damage left in the wake thus far and even then Sylo had chosen the lesser of two evils. If he hadn't stepped in that ring on that night and beat the ever loving shit out of AJ then not only would Blade be gone for good, Vince would convince AJ that he owed him. Alexander, unable to think for himself, would have obeyed. It was all part of a bigger picture. Now Sylo sat taping up his hands before he slid the gloves on. Granted, he was probably wrapping them with a bit more anger than someone should but then again he was a man with reason to be very angry. “What’s the matter, dumbass? Bad day at the office? Tell me all about it!” A voice rang out through the empty locker room. Sylo didn’t snarl. He didn’t roar. He looked over shocked. “Chris? Why the hell are you here?” Sylo looked over and saw the one friend he had with the most seniority. A man that had always proven, no matter what Sylo did, he would be there to either have his back or punch him in the mouth. It also happened to be the one and probably only person that could fire Sylo up and calm him down. It was none other than... WIPPIT GUUD! The fans roared throughout the arena. Wippit jumped a little. “What the fu-...It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight! Aw shit I need to go roll the windows up!” Wippit looked panicked as Sylo looked unamused. “Chris, they’re called fans, and they’re happy to see you somewhere besides highlight films. Now, what is it? As happy as I am to see you I have a lot on my mind and I have things to take care of.” Sylo looked away and went back to wrapping his hands. Wippit just stared at Sylo. “Justin,” Oh.Shit. Wippit had just called Sylo by his birth name. For those keeping track Sylo had always been called “J”. When he entered the wrestling world people just assumed his name was “Jay”. He had let it go all these years. Really, only Chris knew his real name, and he had just blurted it out for the whole world. Sylo’s eyes flared as he turned on Wippit. “Okay...maybe they have a delay...that was an honest to God mistake...” Wippit held up both hands. He quickly changed roles though. “What the fuck are you doing anyway?! Is this some mid-life crises and the only way you can solve it is to prove you’re still the alpha dog?!” Wippit stuck his chest out. “I’ll let the first part go. It’s not like the smarks don’t know it. The last part? If you haven’t noticed I’m fighting a fucking war, alone, with no one fighting on my side. Luckily my side is a fucking tank.” Sylo snarled a little. “Easy boy, down!” Wippit spoke to Sylo like a dog. Anyone else would have their neck broken. (Get it? Neck? Broken?). “All I’m saying is you’ve lifted this whole thing on your shoulders as your responsibility. As if you have to do it all alone.” Wippit replied. “Oh yeah, let me tell you Chris. I had to tell the U.N to fuck off after they called the fifth time. I have a collation of the willing lining up outside my locker room to fight. All the ex-Legacy guys are lining up like it’s their own Pearl Harbour and 9-11 all rolled into one! Get on with it Chris, there’s no one left that gives a damn except for me, so I’ll see this through one way or another.” Sylo ripped the tape off as he finished one hand. He ripped the tape harder than necessary. “You big dumb ox. You finally stopped dying your hair blue and it’s too late. All that blue dye has went into what little bit of a brain you have and made you just outright stupid. You’re not alone, dumbass. I’m standing right here. Unfortunately we’re friends and unfortunately that means we have each others back which means unfortunately....” Wippit paused and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m in this with you,” Sylo stopped but didn’t look at Wippit. “Through thick or Thin,” He turned but Wippit wasn’t there. “Even if it’s just in my head...ride or die.” Sylo looked where Wippit had been one last time. Maybe he had imagined it. Maybe Wippit had really become Sylo’s conscience over the years, either way, Sylo wasn’t alone. Sylo wouldn’t be alone. And for the first time Sylo knew exactly what to do. Ride or Die.
Either way, the show was about to get a lot more iNtense
 The Nashvillain(c) vs. Sylo  
“Hopefully Nash and TWTT send this has-been packing. He couldn’t get the job done against Vince Jacobs and now he’s number one contender for the jOlt title? How’s that fair? Why does Vince Jacobs have to face this animal again? It’s a conspiracy! They just don’t want to see the real SUPERSTAR on top!” Powers followed up. “God’s gonna cut you down” - Johnny Cash. The fans weren’t booing the original Man in Black, instead, they boo’ed the men coming through the curtain. Nash came strutting out with the Relentless title over his shoulder as The West Texas Terrorists followed in suit behind. Nash just walked to the ring as The West Texas Terrorists mocked the fans and threw out insults. All three men entered the ring as Nash started giving commands, getting ready for their opponent, or their funeral as Sylo had proclaimed earlier in the night. Lights out. Johnny Cash would follow.
“And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. “Miracle (Pale horse remix)” - Nonpoint. A blinding white explosion went off signaling Sylo. Sylo stepped out, moved to one side and stared out at the fans before repeating it on the other side of the stage. Sylo turned and moved dead center of the stage and squatted down, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, staring at everyone in the ring, and as always, calculating his move. Sylo sprang from a squat into a standing position, both hands extended, throwing his head back, and letting out a roar as another explosion much like the first went off. Sylo still had his hands out as the light died down, his back to the ring, as he was still moving to the ring. Sylo turned, blowing smoke out of his nose; The raging bull from the pits of Hell had emerged. Sylo marched toward the ring as Nash began jawing at Sylo who jumped up on the ring apron and stepped over the top rop. Senior official Mike Hunt made everyone go to their respective corners before he’d even dream of ringing the bell. Nash and his cronies moved to one side as Sylo went into a squat in his corner, rocking back and forth as he held the ring ropes. Hunt double checked and finally called for the bell. With that all four men rushed. Sylo came out of a squat and charged, jumping in and began throwing blows. A man that had been trained in various forms of MMA was deadly to say the least but Sylo being trained? That was even worse. Sylo nailed all three men in fluid form, moving quickly for a guy that size, and before anyone could really blink Nash and both Conway’s were reeling. The numbers game caught up to Sylo though as all three men quickly jumped in. Nash started throwing punches as each Conway planted boots in Sylo’s knees. Sylo staggered as The Conway’s bounced off the ropes and hit each of Sylo’s knees with dropkicks taking Sylo down to one knee. Sylo refused to stay down. Nash began throwing elbows into Sylo’s skull to try to keep him down but Sylo exploded showing Nash hard into the turnbuckles. Again though The brothers known as The West Texas Terrorists began double teaming Sylo from both sides. They each grabbed one of Sylo’s arms and sent him flying toward the ropes. On the rebound Sylo caught both off guard, launching himself into a flying shoulder block that took both men down. Nash shot in to take advantage of the situation but found Sylo’s hand around his throat instead. “Welcome to your funeral, fatman.” Sylo snarled and Nash went up on Sylo’s shoulders. The fans knew what came next. Sylo slid a loan thumb across his throat, signaling the end of Nash, as he was about to hit The Systematic Shutdown. “My God, Sylo’s going to end this thing almost as soon as it began!” Buhrman cried out. “No! No! Someone stop this guy!” Powers rang out. Someone would. They always did.
The jeers would fall into hindsight with the visual eye candy, dancing across the ominous trinity of super screens. A select bevy of monikers would appear at random exploding on the Arena of Champions one after the other.
After the last moniker appeared on the screen new music reverberated throughout the arena speakers. Vince Jacobs in his ring gear made it to the stage as “Villain” by Theory of a Deadman erupted throughout the United Center. Sylo dropped Nash and snarled, turning toward the entrance ramp. “Superstar” Vince Jacobs came sauntering out from behind the curtain carrying the Legacy title over his shoulder. The fans spewed venom but SVJ could only laugh as he moved toward the ring. “That’s right, come on Vince, let’s end this!” Sylo roared. “Oh? Does the big bad SuperBeast want this piece of shit?” SVJ held up the Legacy title and laughed. Bad idea. Sylo snapped. He was about to shoot through the ring ropes but The Conways and Nash shot in beating Sylo down. All three men began laying boots into Sylo not giving him a chance to respond as Vince Jacobs casually slid into the ring. Hunt tried to get all three men off but they wouldn’t listen. He had no choice but to call for the bell.
“This is beautiful! Vince Jacobs orchestrated this whole thing just to take Sylo out! Haha! He really is a thinking mans champion!” Powers was ecstatic. “How can you say that? Jacobs couldn’t beat the man one on one! He’s desperate!” Behrman replied. Meanwhile Nash instructed The West Texas Terrorists to pick Sylo up. They did as they were told, locking Sylo’s arms as Sylo’s chin rested on his chest. “Good job, Nash!” Vince clapped Nash on the shoulder. “No problem’ Vinny. Anythin’ to help an’ ol’ friend,” Nash nodded. Vince laid the Legacy title down and moved into the opposite corner, stretching a little, and then lined himself up. “I promise, it’s almost over Sylo. Since you’re such an animal I’m going to put you down like one. I guess after this I can add “The only man to send Sylo” to the hospital to my resume!” Vince laughed again as he began lining Sylo up for ”The Superstar Kick”. “Vince is going to do the exact same thing to Sylo he did to Brandon Blade! The coward!” Behrman shouted. “Do it Vince! Take him out! Then we can all move on with our lives!” Powers was still riding the high. It seemed to be over. The light of Sylo and the crusade he had worked so hard to keep alive were about to be extinguished by a few rednecks and a man that had no value for anyone but himself. The cycle would repeat. They would do the same thing to jOlt that had happened to LoC. Somewhere deep inside Sylo he realized that. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. Vince rushed in about to deliver the kick heard round’ the world but at the last second Sylo pulled from deep within himself and sent The West Texas Terrorists flying in front of him. They ate Vince’s Superstar kick and fell to the mat. Sylo stood in front of Jacobs as Nash bailed from the ring. Sylo’s chest heaved as he shook with anger before letting out a roar that demanded blood. “C’mon Vince! Kick me now!” Sylo roared. “Come on you overrated pussy! Kick me in the fucking face like you promised! End me! END ME YOU GOD DAMN COWARD!” Sylo lost control as he picked up both members of the West Texas Terrorists. Vince took that time to bail to ringside with the Legacy title. Meanwhile both Conway brothers went up on Sylo’s shoulders in an impressive display of power. Sylo held them there, staring at Vince Jacobs. “Come Divide and Conquer it’s just me and you Vince!” And with that Sylo sent both men crashing to the mat. Systematic Shutdown “MY GOD SYLO JUST NAILED THE WEST TEXAS TERRORISTS WITH THE SYSTEMATIC SHUTDOWN AT THE SAME TIME!” Buhrman was shouting out of amazement and trying to talk over the roaring fans. Sylo stared at Vince before dropping down, grabbing both brothers, and locking them in a triangle choke. No Escape “SOMEONE STOP THIS ANIMAL! HE’S GOING TO KILL THEM!” Powers yelled. Sylo locked it on even tighter until both of the Conway’s went limp. He jumped up from the mat and onto the nearby turnbuckle as Jacobs moved up the ramp watching Sylo. Sylo slid that lone thumb across his throat again and then it happened. It was something small, something that happened in the blink of an eye, but Vince’s armor had cracked just a sliver. Vince knew it and worse he knew Sylo knew. Vince had just shown Sylo fear. The world seemed to fade away as Sylo stared at Vince Jacobs. Sylo didn’t yell or scream, in fact the fans should have drowned him out, but Vince heard it. He heard it as clear as anything else. “Checkmate.”
“Miracle (Pale Horse mix)” by Nonpoint started up as Vince Jacobs escaped up the ramp to the back. Sylo watched him with no celebration what-so-ever. Vince Jacobs had just fucked up big time and though he would deny it for the rest of his life, at his core, he knew it and Sylo knew it.
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