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"Warriors of Time" by Black Tide started in the arena, signalling the start of Wednesday Night Warriors! The fans were cheering loud enough to almost drown out the music, but then a fireworks set exploded with light and sound, overwriting any other audio for a few moments. The cacophony and light show ended, and again the cheers of the fans tried to lift the roof off of the place. The entrance sond ended, and the cheering begain to subside... if only for a few seconds.
"Raise a Little Hell" covered by Under Fire Opening pops are quite loud indeed. Wippit Guud pops defy the laws of physics. After 5 seconds of opening music, the man himself stepped onto the stage, and the fans increase again in volume. A popular phrase would be "this place is electric", except it was more like "this place just got hit with 300 simultaneous lightning bolts!" Wippit walked down the aisle, hand-slapping everyone who reached out to the returning jOlt wrestler - anyone remember that, way back when? He got down to the ring, hopped easily onto the apron, and climbed up the corner rops to stand on the top turnbuckle. He raised his arms in the air and just seemed to absorb to collective force of people shouting their adoration. After a good 15 seconds, he flipped forward into the ring - landing easily on his feet - and walked across to the far side to take a microphone being held out for him. The music stopped. The fans did not. "WIPPIT! WIPPIT! WIPPIT!" Once... twice... three time Wippit raised the mic to address the fans, and each time he had to let his hand drop because the fans would not stop chanting. "WIPPIT! WIPPIT! WIPPIT!" Finally, the man from Dildo has to cut into their chant. "You people make it all worthwhile to come back, just with that chant." Which, of course, started another Wippit chant. "Ok, ok, ok... we need to get on with the show here! As much as I think 60 minutes of people chanting my name would be ratings gold, I don't think it will earn me much love with the rest of the guys. There's a couple of things I want to address, and then we can all watch some people beat the crap out of each other." The crowd began to quiet down a bit, but there was still a lot of cheering. "First of all: for those of you who don't know me.... ah, who am I kidding, you all know me!" "WIPPIT! WIPPIT! WIPPIT!" Wippit just shook his head in disbelief at the reactions he was getting. But his head quicky turned to the entry ramp as new music began to play: "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash That changed the fan reaction almost instantly. It wasn't the Relentless champion who appeared, but his two cowboy cronies: Eli and Ezra Conway. The boos rained down as the team known as The West Texas Terrorists walked down the ramp. Both looked a little worse for wear, and still showed the signs of the beating they get from Sylo last Intense. They each of them had a microphone in hand, and slowly but surely made their way into the ring. The music faded, and Eli raised the mic to his lips- "They're not actually letting you two talk, are they?" inquired Wippit before they could say anything. "Shut up!" yelled Eli. "We're out here to settle a little problem. A very... little... problem, if you understand what I'm saying." "Oooo, a size joke," shot back Wip. "That's original. I suppose your friend Nash used that one when he say you in the shower, eh?" The collective audience roared with laughter. Eli started forward, but Ezra put out a hand and stopped his brother. "Get the jokes out now, Guud," said Ezra. "Because in about 30 seconds, you're going to need your jaw wired shut. You just had to come back to jOlt, didn't you. You just had to stick your nose into someone else's business, and boost Sylo's spirits. The way I see it, we owe you a little bit of payback for that. And we're collecting. Right now." Both men dropped their mics and advanced on Wippit. For his part, Wip backed up quickly until he was against the far ropes. "Wait wait wait, hold up you two." They stopped, albeit relunctantly. "If you do this, if you two try to take our your frustrations at your lack of talent on me, then you'll be in a world of hurt. I'd hate to see the two of you put down for jumping another wrestler outside a match, which is exactly what this is, isn't it? Did you really think this through to the inevitable conclusion?" The WTT turned to look at each other, obvious confusion on their faces and they both begain to talk out of mic-range. Wippit watched them go back and forth for about 20 seconds, and then facepalmed with his left hand. "Ok, stop. STOP! You guys are hurting my head. Look, I'll make this simple for you. If you want to beat me up, it has to be a match, right? So, how about this: me vs the two of you in a handicap match tonight on Warriors. I know, I know... it'll be hard for you two to overcome your handicaps and have a chance at this, but it's the best I can offer. Deal?" The fans started another "Wippit!" chant as two WTT talked it over for another 10 seconds. Then Eli picked up his dropped microphone and spoke to Wippit (more like at Wippit): "It's a deal. But it's an Undergound match." That actually wiped the smile off of Wippit's face. "Let's see you overcome that handicap, Guud!" Eli dropped the mic again as "God's Gonna Cut You Down" stared to play. Wippit watched the West Texas Terrorists leave the ring, with no smile on his face.   
Greg Vincent strutted around backstage with a Jack and Coke in hand; it helped soothed the pain still lingering from the concussion. His eyes peered from left to right and his mind analyzed the environment, in which he stood. What he saw, was a variety of jOlt employees who performed the necessary tasks that keep the show in rhythm, some jOlt addicts with backstage passes were being escorted through the halls of the arena, and lastly, Donny Layne attempted a few words to try and get Dawn Cassidy to show him some cleavage.. But of course Dawn had a little more self respect than he imagined. So Dawn shouted his name and bellowed a ‘How Could You!” before she walked away with a disgusted look on her face.
Donny Layne shrugged his shoulders and walked in the opposite direction, possibly to another jOlt interview. But who the hell knew? Though, as the area began to clear out; Greg spotted Sanchez Cano and Cordova sitting down, having a coke and pizza; Mexicans loved coke and pizza. Greg took a drink and munched on the ice that chilled the beverage. He continued to watch the two brothers argue, as the conversation escalated. Cano stood up, and poured his drink on Cordova. The Latin Thug stood up and sent a stingy slap across Cano’s face. The two were about to lock up when the MegaSTAR shouted at them. “HEY!” Greg strutted in their direction, pouring the last drink of Jack and Coke down his throat. He tossed the cup in a nearby trash can and wiped both hands on his jeans. He pulled out a Marlboro Black cigarette and lit it, as he approached the Luchadores. “Can I watch this shit!?” he asked, blowing a cloud of gray smoke in their direction. Cano’s face grimaced with anger, “Keep walkin, Greg. Or you’re next!!” Cordova stepped in, “This the guy that kick ya ass las week?’ joked the Latin Thug with a smirk, “I would be piss too, brother!” The Sadistic Cano attempted an excuse in reply to Cordova’s remark, but Greg motioned a palm to face that forced Sanchez to a halt.. “Sanchez, shut the Fuck up. I proved last week my game is better than YOURS!” Greg turned his attention to Cordova, “AND YOU, Cordova! The FORMER Flyweight Champ...” he stated, empathizing on the word ‘Former. “The FORMER...Flyweight Champ...” he repeated. A thought aroused in the mind of Greg Vincent, “You know, tonight was gonna be my night off...BUT, since I have two of the top contenders in MY division standing here...How about a match?" ‘WAIT A MINUTE!” Cano roared, “Me and Cordova have unfinished business.” The Latin Thug folded his arms and flexed his biceps, showing off his fine muscular tone.. “Another time Sanchez. Tonight it’s a battle of tha Flyweights. And to prove that I'm the true number one contender, I'll put my shot at Ultima on the line. Tha winner face Avispa Ultima at Divide and Conquer for tha Flyweight title.” A smirk formed below his mask, indicating the amount of confidence in himself. The Latin Thug peered over at Vincent, “Because you cannot beat me, Greg!” and then at Sanchez, “Neither one of you can beat me.” Cordova looked back at the MegaSTAR, “I show everyone, tonight.” Greg inhaled on the cigarette, rolling his eyes as the nicotine emerged into his bloodstream. He released the thick smoke, blowing it in Cordova’s face. He stood in silence, as the thought of becoming the number one contender for the Flyweight Belt hoisted his ego on his face. The MegaSTAR flashed his shimmering white teeth with a smile, “Now that’s the shit I’m talking about, a man with a little bit of hair on his ass.” Greg paused, puffing on the cigarette. He exhaled and continued,, “Believe it or not Cordova, you just earned a little bit of respect from me. A man with confidence, willing to put his shot with the champ on the line. Now that’s takes a big set of balls...” Greg stepped closer to the Latin Thug, “But don’t forget who you’re Fucking talking too.” Cordova moved in on Vincent. They stood nose to nose. Greg’s arrogant smile quickly transformed into a sadistic scowl. Sanchez stood aside, with his fist clenched. The tension in the air was beginning to grow intolerable. “And who are you? I’ve never heard your name. I’ve never seen ya face. You a nobody. Just a Bitch with bad attitude. Tonight I show you how bad you are, Greg Vincent!” Cordova bellowed, with a solemn tone defining his demeanor. “Is that so...” Vincent rubbed his hand through his thick beard. “Well then, how about one stipulation, for...Entertainment purposes.” “What stipulation?” GV smirked, “Underground rules...” Sanchez jumped into the conversation, “Are you kidding...” “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M KIDDING NUMNUTS!” Greg said, as he turned his head at Cano, and then back at Cordova, “S0...Underground rules or not?" he continued, "Consider it a warm up match before Divide and Conquer, winner takes all.” “I’ll agree to that..” Cordova answered. “But the results will be the same. There’s no stopping tha inevitable.” Sanchez shot off a quick remark, “I’ll see you two assholes in the ring!!” Cano shouted, “Tired of this bullshit!” Irritated, Sanchez tipped over the table next to him, and cursed as he walked in the direction of the locker rooms. It was obvious Sanchez was pissed about the slap in the face and on top of that, the man who beat him one week ago, mocked him. And now, it seemed he would have to face both Flyweights in and Underground match. Sure, he didn't have to participate, but what idiot would turn down a shot at the Champ? Not Sanchez. But Greg looked on as Sanchez walked off. Once he was out of sight, he stared at Cordova, “We’ll just have to see about that shit, then, won’t we?” Cordova nodded his head and the two men stared at each other. The camera slowly peeled away and began to fade, as Warriors went elsewhere.  One Eye vs. Lennox Love   
One Eye jetted forward and tackled Love to the mat and in the process garnered full guard. Lennox was caught off guard but even with his limited experience he pulled his arms in up in an attempt to block the ensuing flurry of blows. One Eye rained both his fists and his elbows upon his opponent. The ref reminded One Eye of the ruleset; this was not a MMA bout and he pulled him off of Lennox. The two were separated but not before Lennox began to leak a little from above his left brow. Lennox, failing to learn from his previous trial, whipped the blood off his face and taunted his opponent, as if to say.. "that's all you've got?" Norman Smiley would be proud of Lennox Love. Lennox would quickly learn, this was in fact not all One Eye had. The two met up in the middle of the ring and locked shoulders, One Eye shot his knee forward into Lennox's gut. Lennox bent forward and One Eye connected with a snap DDT onto his opponent. One Eye briefly stomped a few boots into Love but this was short lived as One Eye propped his opponent back onto his feet. Fist after fist were planted on Lennox's face until One Eye whipped Love into the ropes and connected with a drop toe hold. Lennox crashed down to the mat and One Eye used the situation to fasten in a tight leg lock. One Eye wasn't new to the North American scene but he was certainly overlooked. As are many Japanese performers and this is because they don't bring with them a high level of showmanship. They typically don't have the refined 'look' and gimmicks of their American counterparts. American's sell their personality, the Japanese sell their ability. The Japanese who adopted American style gimmicks were given characters which reeked of blatant Orientalism and racial stereotyping. Something has to be said that the most successful 'Japanese' wrestler in the North American history was an American born Samoan parading as a Sumo wrestler. This wasn't lost on One Eye. To One Eye and his compatriots, it is important to consider the story of Sen no Rikyu. Rikyu was the most renowned practitioner of the Japanese tea ceremony called Cha-no-yu (Hot Water for Tea). Under Rikyu, the tea ceremony reached its peak refinement in the sixteenth century. The secret of his success consisted in appearing natural, concealing the effort behind one's work. Likewise, this was One Eye's methodology in the ring. The sudden appearance of something naturally, almost accidentally graceful is the height of beauty. This beauty comes without warning and seems effortless. Nature creates such things by its own laws and processes, but men have to create their effects through labor and contrivance. When they showed the effort of producing the effect, the effect is spoiled. Nature does not reveal its tricks, and what imitates nature by appearing effortless approximates nature's power. The power of nature, the power of words of his lucha-inspired fellow superstar Phoenix. Lennox broke the hold but was clearly reeling from the effects of the previous lock. Lennox attempted a wild roundhouse but this proved futile as One Eye ducked the attack and picked up his opponent before slamming him into the mat with a well executed scoop slam. One Eye's ability in the ring was raw. Humanity's first notions of power came from primitive encounters with nature- the flash of lightning in the sky, a sudden flood, the speed and ferocity of a wild animal. These forces required no thinking, no planning- they awed us by their sudden appearance, their gracefulness, and their power over life and death. And this remained the kind of power that people have always wanted to imitate. For One Eye, it came this naturally. This elicited not only admiration but a touch of fear. His powers were untapped- no one can fathom their limits. To Lennox's credit he mounted a moment of brilliance as he was able to get back into the match by striking One Eye with a wayward high kick from the ground. The young man got back to his feet and swept One Eye's legs out from underneath him. One Eye appeared to have hit his head awkwardly on the mat as he seemed uncharacteristically dazed by such a weak attack. Love was back in the match and he let the crowd know it as he raised his fist in triumph. Love saw his opportunity and hopped up to the top rope. Love gestured to the crowd that he was going for his finishing maneuver, Love Potion No. 450. He leapt into the air and......... he connected with the mat. One Eye was playing possum. He recovered from his fall and waited for his opponent to leap from the turnbuckle. Wrestlers are machines which re-create the speed and sublime power of nature, but to One Eye something is missing. These machines are noisy and jerky, they reveal their effort. Even the very best machines cannot root out our admiration for things that move easily and effortlessly. We cannot return to such a state, but if we can create the appearance of this kind of ease, we elicit in others the kind of primitive awe that nature has always evoked in humankind. When Lennox returned to his feet, he clearly had not seen One Eye following through with his finisher, Visual Escapade. The Yoko Geri appeared to brutalize Lennox. One Eye thrusted his right leg straight forward hitting Lennox's solar plexus, and he followed with his left leg's knee impacting the forehead of Love. He ended the onslaught with a swift spinning heel to the back of the neck.  The crowd collectively gasped and the pin was a mere formality. One Eye was victorious. He had won the match and his accomplishments came with grace and ease. Sadly, the ease was within his body and not in his mind. Especially now that the man he had attacked had made himself known, walking out and coming to a stop below the jOltVision. 
That man?Phoenix. Yes, the gold and white friend of our onyx and jade warrior in the ring. If you, the audience are confused then that was why Phoenix had a mic and was ready to explain everything to you. But first… “ONE EYE!” Phoenix boomed over top of One Eye’s victory music, the music sharply cutting out as Phoenix stood on the ramp-way breathing heavily. He was emotional, as was One Eye, who stood stoically in the ring with the one eye that showed through his mask belying a boiling rage underneath his measured frame. “We could have helped usher jOlt into a brand new era of hope and prosperity together, my friend! One Eye, King, we could have protected this organization from the evils that have befallen it in the past… but YOU…” Phoenix shook his head, the jOltvision above him stretching out the powerful image, “You used the blind trust of these great people for your own evil!” Phoenix paused, and looked out at the crowd of Warriors 4 crowd, “The man who attacked you, on intense 36?” Phoenix looked back to the ring, and squared his white and gold arm, pointing at the ring. “It was YOU, One Eye! IT WAS YOU ALL ALONG!” The crowd could only gasp, some roaring in disbelief as Phoenix continued a heart full of steam, “You sadistic… you sick sick fiend. You attacked yourself. Then once I knew the truth, and I told you after our tag match last week, then you attacked ME! You kept me out of the main event! You undermined my continued effort of the greater good!” Phoenix stopped pacing to once again square his words directly at the stoic ninja warrior in the ring. “You hide behind that mask, behind your eye… you use it for sympathy, as a way to connect with these great people, and they give you there all! They give it to you, and you move effortlessly through that ring and fight like a true warrior. Because they don’t know the true mastermind underneath your mask, do they? They don’t know the sick bastard who has stolen SO MUCH, FROM SO MANY!” “Phoenix-san--” One Eye had finally procured a microphone of his own, and his words were pained. They were also fleeting, because Phoenix would have NONE of it. “STOP, YOU TWO-FACED, ONE-EYED SON OF A BITCH!” Phoenix growled, as the crowd roared in support of his response. Phoenix had emotion on his side, “Stop! I don’t want to hear anymore of your lies! You’re a friend? No, you’re an enemy! You’re in the way of so much potential for jOlt…” “You lack honor, Phoenix-san.” One Eye replied, his words getting louder. Less pained and much more angry. Embarrassed? “And you hide behind a mask, a mask made for better men!“ Phoenix berated his former friend, his own masked face tilted towards the man in black in the ring, “You speak of honor? I would just as soon TAKE your honor then to ever risk mine by supporting you again, One Eye!” “Then we fight!” One Eye finally yelled from the ring, and the crowd hushed in shock. One Eye had been so measured through his jOlt career and usually when he showed emotion it was pride and joy, but this? Wow. “Then we fight, One Eye. But not tonight.” Phoenix shook his head to a smattering of jeers, “I’m sorry everyone but he’s already competed tonight so another match as much I would enjoy it… WOULD be without honor. So to RID jOlt of MEN LIKE YOU, One Eye… only Divide & Conquer will suffice!” The crowd roared, this was a BIG pay-per-view match on the horizon, on a show with some already stellar confrontations. “You won’t be able to hide anymore One Eye, see even after my attack at YOUR hands last week, I pleaded with Damien Lee not to send Rune Winter after you. You just as easily could have been taken out by a shovel this evening… but that wouldn’t have revealed your true face… that of a villain, that of a thief, that of a—“ “Lie-ah.” “Yes, One Eye, that of a liar.” The two former friends were now bitter enemies it seemed, as they both took a moment and stood there… staring down one another. The crowd fueled by the heat between them rumbled with anticipation of what could happen next. “Why don’t you show your true face to these fans, One Eye? You duplicitous scoundrel.” Phoenix opined, finally breaking the silence between the two men, before thinking better of it, “No, better yet… why don’t I show your true face.” “You have more to hide.” One Eye spit back at Phoenix. “I have NOTHING to hide,” replied the man in gold and white, his arms out-stretched wide, “I am Phoenix… the rebirth of jOlt, down to a single man. I will put this mask that I wear, with pride, against the mask with which you HIDE behind.” Phoenix took a moment a nodded to himself, that wasn’t a bad idea actually, “They call it Luchas de Apuestas in Mexico, I’ll simply call it… Mask versus Mask.” The crowd applauded in serious appreciation of such a high-stakes situations. Phoenix barreled forward. “For WEEKS you’ve been asking for a fight that you stole from the both of us, trying to distract me from my path of good and just competition. At DIVIDE & CONQUERE, we will FIGHT, MASK VERSUS MASK… and I will rid myself of you, One Eye. I will clean away men such as yourself from the core of jOlt itself.” The Warriors crowd roared, as One Eye nodded. He was game, this match was going to happen, and it was going to be a HELL of a fight for all involved. The masked man in white and the masked man in black, with their pride and their honor on the line, like true Warriors.  
Suffice it to say, Damian Lee had been a very busy bee since he had been put in charge of the day-to-day operations of jOlt. Things may have been a little bit easier since he employed Rune Winters, who was currently standing by at the ready to whack somebody with his shovel should any more fights break out backstage – a seemingly commonplace occurrence nowadays.
He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small bottle of aspirin. As he looked at his bottle, he silently worried that he had been developing quite the addiction since taking this job. When he looked down at his bottle of water, he laid back in his chair and relaxed for a few moments hoping to get himself a little bit of piece from all of the madness that was on the other side of his office door. However, since this was wrestling and he wanted piece, irony was about to hand out a big, cruel bitchslap for the rest of this segment. “MISTER LEE! MISTER LEE!” Damien and Rune Winters turned their collective heads to the door and on the other side were a trio of punk kids who'd been making waves so big in the tag team division that surfers could ride them. Frank Silver, complete with a nice business suit. The big guy, Mack Brody, wearing a black leather vest, black jeans, and a SCARY bronze tan he just got finished with before the show. And of course, the cruiserweight contingent of the group, Ryan Gallway, with a white striped pork pie hat, a blue scarf, denim jacket and pants. Somebody will tell Ryan someday about his impeccable sense of fashion. “Mister Lee, it's an honor to meet you at long last, sir,” Frank extended a hand towards Damien Lee, who shook it cautiously, waiting for one of these kids to take it off. Ryan shook his hand also, then Mack Brody finally finished. All three of them almost on command whipped out bottles of Purell and wiped their hands clean. “How are things going this evening?” “Doing well, boys,” he nodded, almost waiting for the other shoe to drop. “How about yourselves?” “We're excellent on this fine day, sir, thanks for asking,” Frank replied with a matching smile. “We've come here to discuss a matter of business as it pertains to the status of the jOlt Tag Team Division. Specifically... as we all know... the lowercase j-capital-O-lt Tag Team Championships.” “Ah-ha.” Damien acknowledged Frank with a jut of the head. Mack Brody, the largest one of the group looked over at Rune, who was just standing there waiting for one of the pretty boys to make a move. “You asking for trouble, has-been?” Brody asked. Rune had the shovel, but Brody looked the least bit intimidated, standing a full 6'6” and close to 320. Rune – a LARGE man himself almost tipping the scales of seven-feet and 300 pounds – merely snorted. “You asking for a shovel shot to the face?” “Boys, boys calm down,” Damien interjected before the two of them had a chance to go any further with their stand-off. “Indeed, Mack,” Frank waved a dismissive hand. “We don't need to whip out each others...” He looked up at Rune. “...shovels. We have business that pertains to those jOlt Tag Team Championships as we said before. See, Mister Lee, you've clearly got a lot on your plate here tonight. You've got people like Kenjiro Ito running around, hindering your shows and yelling for contracts and using some rather foul language...” “FUCKIN' A!” Ryan added. Frank glared at his tag team partner before he shook his head. “You've got people like SVJ and Sylo tearing each other apart. Derecho as the Underground Champion being a COMPLETE loose cannon. The Nashvillian and his West Texas Terrorists... attacking full-grown WOMEN? Bane Lonehart trying to Tanya Harding people. Mike Extreme sneak-attacking other people before his matches. It's bedlam out there, my friend. Even with Rune Winters here, he can only hit so many people with shovels, you know!” Damian Lee didn't look the least bit amused. “I'm taking somewhere in that entire brownnosing laundry list, you had a point you were trying to make?” Ryan looked over at Frank and seated himself directly across from Damien Lee. “The jOlt website is a damn EYESORE,” he shook his head. “You have champions listed there... Derecho... Aria Murphy... The Nashvillian... Avispa Ultima... all champions. And where the jOlt Tag Team Champions... VACANT! You don't have anybody on the roster named VACANT! That statement is FALSE! You have nobody on the roster named VACANT! Your website is a house of lies!” Frank and Mack simultaneously face-palmed before Frank shook his head and gently pulled Ryan's chair away from the desk. “Forgive my friend here...” Frank patted him on the shoulder. “But yes... those titles deserve to be held with pride. They should be held by role models that other young up-and-coming tag teams can aspire to. You should be held by a virtual tag team DYNASTY. Do you even know how rare those are anymore? And since we've been knocking it out of the park every single week in the tag team division, as we've done everywhere else... why not award us with those titles? We aren't going to come into this office with a ridiculous list of demands and chew you out or attack roster members or any of that nonsense. So do yourself and jOlt a favor and we can even make it official at say, Divide and Conquer? Or even better tonight? That works, yes? We can be awarded the titles and we'll all call it an evening.” Oh, yeah. It was almost aspirin time. Damien Lee looked on at the three men. “Okay, boys, you've definitely come up with a decent proposal. You've done your homework, I'll give you that... but the fate of the jOlt Tag Team Titles has already been decided.” The jaws of all three Heirs dropped. “Wait, what?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “That's right. At Divide and Conquer, it's been decided that there will be a Four Corners Tag Team match and the winner will become the new jOlt Tag Team Champions.” “Wait...” Frank's face started to turn red. “We come to you like gentlemen... we ask that we be given our prize... what we've EARNED since it seems like anybody can just walk in here and get a God-damned title... we've beaten numerous tag teams in this place... gave them a rub off our name... and you're STILL making us compete for them? What the hell kind of a racket are you trying to run here, Lee?!” “Well, if you guys are truly the best tag team dynasty that you claim to be, then you'll have no problem proving it. Now, since you have had a good record, I'm considering you guys already qualified. As are the Avispa Clan, who've also won in the tag team division. There will be two more teams competing tonight for a spot and on the Divide and Conquer Countdown show, there will be one more qualifier for the fourth and final spot.” Frank, Ryan and Mack sunk their heads and moaned and complained, but before any could get a word out, there was another piece to the puzzle. Damien Lee wasn't done yet. “And for that last qualfier... this team that I've signed on has been around for quite a while themselves. Teaming for YEARS, might I add. And in order for them to be added to the match, they're gonna compete against a team that has already been entered... they'll be wrestling you guys!” Annnndddddddd cue the stomping. The collective bitching. And the moaning, whining, complaining... all that until the mighty THWACK of a shovel against the wall, courtesy of Rune Winters. "That's your cue to find the fucking door," Rune added. "If you have a problem, I can kindly direct you to my assistant, Ms. Don'tgiveafuck." “Well, this was a waste of fucking time!” Ryan shouted as he tossed his hat on the ground and walked out of the office. Mack stormed off right behind him, leaving Frank as the sole Heirs member in the office now. “We're gonna remember this!” Silver yelled before he walked out of the office and disappeared from sight, leaving Rune and Damien Lee all alone. Oh, yeah. It was aspirin time. And probably with a good Vodka chaser, too. 
Lights...out.Johnny Cash would follow. “And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. One of the four beasts sang come and see and I saw. And behold! A white horse. And his name that sat on him... Was death. And hell...followed with him.” “Miracle (Pale horse remix)” - Nonpoint.
A blinding white explosion, much like a bomb being dropped right in the arena. Through the blast and smoke stepped the 7’1” SuperBeast who had to have been in a foul mood. He didn’t pander to the fans as he made his way to the ring, snatched a mic, climbed in, and had a seat against a turnbuckle facing the entrance. Sanchez Cano vs. Greg Vincent vs. Cordova   
Moments later... “Cocky” by Kid Rock blasted the arena away. The fans jeered louder than before as ‘MegaSTAR’ Greg Vincent stepped into the spotlight in his jeans and ‘Greg Vincent Owns You!’ t-shirt. He waisted no time, as he darted down the ramp, and slid into the ring. Greg charged at Cano, before Cordova could make his appearance, and the two Flyweights battled back and forth with lefts and rights. Greg had the upper hand because of his prior MMA skills. He caught Cano with a jab, followed with an uppercut. Cano stumbled backwards into the ropes and Greg sent Cano over top rope with a running clothesline. “Latin Thug” by Cypress Hill. Cordova ran past the curtains, as Greg turned and watched. He waited as Cordova slid into the ring and met the Latin Thug with a few stomps. But it wasn’t enough to keep Cordova on the ground as he popped up off the mat with velocity and began hammering away on the MegaSTAR with some forearm shots to the head. Greg was backed up into the turnbuckle, bobbing and weaving as he dodged a couple of forearms. He waited for an opening and wrapped his hands around Cordova’s neck, twisted him around into the turnbuckle. He delivered some hard body shots to the Latin Thug. Outside the ring, Cano was getting some strength back in his legs as he grabbed the ring apron and pulled up. He looked up and spotted GV stomping Cordova as he sat on the mat with his back posted up in the turnbuckle. Cano rolled into the ring and grabbed Vincent. NECKBREAKER! Sanchez stood up and delivered a boot to the face. He looked over at Cordova as he quickly grabbed the middle ropes and slung to his feet. Cano charged at the Latin Thug only to be met with a dropkick to the face. Cano quickly bounced to his feet though, as did Cordova. Cano charged again. HIP TOSS! Both men quickly stood up again. Another HIP TOSS! Cano stood up and charged again. SPINNING HEEL KICK! Sanchez finally stayed on the mat, as he gasped for air. Cordova spotted Greg finally recovering from the neckbreaker. He walked over and pulled Greg to his feet by his thick beard and drilled him with some overhand punches until Greg was forced into the ropes. Cordova went for an irish whip, but Greg reversed it sending Cordova into the ropes. Cordova repelled off the ropes and dodged a clothesline. He bounced off the opposing ropes and met Greg center ring with a running body splash. The momentum of the move however worked in Greg’s favor, as he rolled over on top of Cordova and locked in a hellacious armbar. Referee Simon Boulder positioned himself close to the two competitors. Greg had the armbar locked in and was moments away from facing Avispa Ultima at Divide and Conquer but... STOMP! Sanchez broke up the hold and picked up the MegaSTAR. He sent a couple forearms to the face and sent a dropkick to the face, which sent Vincent over the top rope. He turned his attention on Cordova, who held his arm in pain from the armbar. He picked him up and hooked his arm over his shoulder for a snap suplex...followed by another...and another. Cano delivered a final suplex and a quick pin. ONEEEEE! TWOOOOO! KICKOUT! Cordova got his shoulder off the mat and rolled out of the ring, he doubled over with one hand on the apron, and his head tilted up in Cano’s direction, as he breathed heavily. Sanchez wasn’t going to wait on the Latin Thug to catch his breath. He bounced off the ropes, opposite of Cordova and... WHACK! Greg sent a steel chair to the back of Cano’s head. Sanchez fell face first and Greg laughed as he wiped the blood off his face from the gash on the back of his head, which tore open from the fall moments ago. GV spotted Cordova on the other side of the ring. He dropped of the ring apron and quickly power walked around the corner of the ring. Cordova sprinted at him, lunging into him with a spear. Greg dropped the chair and Cordova was in a full mount position, pounding away on vincent with some hard fist. Greg blocked a majority of the blows with his forearms and weaved his head from left to right, missing a few more blows. Greg pushed Cordova off of him and rolled onto his shoulder. Cordova stood up... WHACK! Greg lunged at Cordova with a superman punch. Blood spewed from Cordova’s nose and it seeped through his mask. The number one contender fell down, clutching his nose. Greg immediately walked over and raised the ring apron. He retrieved a table and set it up. He grabbed the Latin Thug and positioned him on the table. Greg jumped on the ring and climbed the turnbuckle. Not the ballsack! Sanchez split Greg’s legs and GV landing on his Genitals. Cano shoved him off the turnbuckle, falling on his head as he hit the rubber mat outside the ring. The Sadistic Sanchez, jumped on the turnbuckle, and soared into the air. SMACK! Cordova rolled off just in time and Cano went crashing through the table, landing on his shoulder. Cordova walked passed Cano and approached the MegaSTAR who was holding his head as he stood to his feet. Greg missed with a standing clothesline. Cordova turned, as did Vincent. Stiff Toe Kick. DDT! Cordova took his turn on the top turnbuckle. He climbed up it and stood tall. El Decapitación Rápido Cordova pinned Greg Vincent outside the ring. ONEEEE! TWOOOO! THR-NOOOOOOOOO! In the nick of time, Sanchez stomped on Cordova’s head breaking up the count. Cordova quickly stood up and caught Cano’s arm as he attempted an overhand chop. He whipped Cano into the steel steps. Sanchez was positioned with his back arched over a portion of the steps. He raised up and... RUNNING DROP KICK! Cordova picked up Cano slid him into the ring. He climbed the turnbuckle once more, El Decapitación Rápido He covered Sanchez. ONEEEEE! TWOOOOO! THREEEEEE! The Latin Thug, Cordova, stood up as referee Simon Boulder signaled the bell. *DING* *DING* *DING* Cordova wiped the blood from his nose and mouth. He looked down at Greg Vincent as he rested on one knee, holding his head. Greg looked up at Cordova with a smirk. Cordova smiled with blood stained on his teeth. Greg extended his middle finger, “Fuck You!” he pulled himself up off the ground, “Payback’s a motherfucker!” The MegaSTAR limped up the ramp and looked at Cordova in the ring, as he walked backwards. Cordova waved his hand as GV parted the curtains. He looked down at Sanchez and laughed. “Like I said, you will never be better than me.” The scene faded with Cordova standing over Sanchez Cano. 
Sylo stood on the brink. If he made one move forward he would plummet into the abyss that waited to devour him. His eyes scanned the night sky, dotted with a few stars, as the rest were blanked out by the lights of the arena as well as the city. Stars, something that were taken for granted, something most people viewed as “beautiful” but in reality we were just getting the last glimpse of something that had burned out as time passed.He let the idea roll around in his head as he took a long drag off a cigarette and exhaled. He kept his back pressed firmly against the parking garage’s cement wall. He could hear the crowd echoing from inside the arena but none of it seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. He took another draw, it stung, but it was like greeting an old friend. He let the smoke casually float through his nostrils. Slowly, he closed his eyes, letting those predatory glowing blue eyes be veiled. The door opened but he wasn’t in the mood. If someone attacked they attacked. He’d still make it to Divide and Conquer. If nothing else jOlt’s resident hall monitor would come check hall passes. “I thought you quit?” The voice was all too familiar. Sylo chuckled softly, keeping his eyes closed, and replied in Russian. Natalia stood astonished. She never thought he cared about the language, much less took the time to learn it. As far as what Sylo had said was “I did. In light of recent events it seemed appropriate.” “You make it sound almost like it’s your native tongue. I’m impressed,” Natalia chewed on her lip. Why did she always lose what she wanted to say when she was around Sylo? What was it about him? It was like he had some sort of hold on her but that couldn’t be true. Could it? Her thoughts were interrupted. “So besides my smoking habits and the fact you’re impressed I can speak something other than English, what do you want?” Sylo had too much on his mind, his reply, while light, still cut like a knife. What hurt Natalia the most was the fact he wouldn’t open his eyes or even turn to face her. “I just...I wanted...needed to wish you lu-” Natalia was cut off abruptly. “Luck is for gamblers and fools, which is pretty much the same thing. I don’t buy stock in luck. I invest in skill, training, and the ability to have a better strategy.” Sylo quipped. “Okay, this has gotten WAY out of hand. You and Vince both are rushing head first into this like it’s the end of the world. It’s not, okay? It’s not the end of the world! Vince is right, companies fade, companies go away, but it doesn’t mean its memory is being desecrated.” Sylo didn’t move as she finished. A few seconds passed and he let his eyes slide open. In a flash he had Natalia pinned between himself and the wall. “Don’t think because we have history that makes you exempt. Don’t think for one second I have a problem taking someone out no matter what their gender is. You and I? We’re nothing now. Vince is right? The man came out and said it’s “JUST a title!” but that title was more than leather adorned in metal. That title is the heart of The Legacy. For Vince to disgrace it is a slap in everyones face, even yours, but obviously you’re too fucking stupid to get that! Vince is right? Was he right for having those RedNecks attack a woman, was he right for hurting people that just wanted to see the odds evened? I know what Vincent’s nightmare is and that nightmare is the 7’1” 335 lb SUPERBEAST! Now, get out of here, Natalia. Get out of here and stay away from me. Next time I won’t warn you. Go back to your sheep and enjoy his company because come Divide and Conquer, one way or another, I’m going to pound the memory of the Legacy into Vincent’s...fucking...skull!” Sylo pushed off, snarling a little, he could feel his hands shaking which was never good. Natalia looked at Sylo with a mixture of fear, shock, and sadness before lowering her head. “Maybe...Aria can be there for you since I can’t.” Natalia’s voice was lined with something that hinted at...jealousy. Sylo just grunted and moved back to his original position. Natalia opened the door, took one last look at Sylo...her friend, and went back inside. Sylo lit another cigarette as he stared at the night sky. He knew what he had to do and God have mercy on them all. Including Sylo, as well.  
Jacobs was using the bathroom in his locker room door opened. Vince finished what he was doing before peering out into the room as the door was closing shut.“Natalia is that you.” Vince said but suddenly another soft voice that Vince was very familiar with spoke instead. “No darling it’s not Natalia.” Jacobs walked to the outside sink and started to wash his hands as he sighed because standing next to the mirror was none other than Aria Murphy, resident female ass kicker of the defunct Legacy of Champions. Vince grabbed a towel from the sink and dried his hands before throwing the towel onto the sink near Aria. “What do you want Aria?” Aria was a woman that was scared of nothing or no man. The problem between these two was that there were some rumors floating around Legacy of Champions that they had a relationship while Vince was still married. Nothing ever came out but Vince did get a divorce from his wife not too long after the rumors came out. “How dare you send those hillbillies out to hurt me?” Aria said as Vince sat down on his sofa. “What the hell are you talking about, Aria? I didn’t send anyone after you. Have you been in Laz’s private stock again.” Jacobs replied with a smirk. “Vince I’m not dumb. I know things have not been the same between us since Legacy of Champions and that Arkady fiasco over in ACW.” Jacobs looked up at Aria who moved closer to the champ and sat next to him on the sofa. “Hey I just introduced you two. Don’t get mad at me if it didn’t work out. But I am appalled that you would even think that I had something to do with that attack. If I wanted to do something to someone I would do it face to face. Haven’t you been paying attention to what I have been doing to Sylo. Oh maybe not since you think the big guy is your white knight in shining armor, am I right.” “Look Vince, I am not in the mood to be playing these games with you right now.” “But I thought you liked games Aria. Isn’t that what you told me four years ago?” Jacobs said with a smirk as he rose up from the chair. Aria stood to her feet as well looking at Vince with rage in her eyes. “Vince, I’m not done. I need to know why you sent those guys after me. Is it because of what happened four years ago?” Vince’s face started to turn red as he walked slowly toward Aria. “I don’t need the twins to hurt you Aria. If I wanted to hurt you I would have a long time ago. You think what you did was admirable. You think that by going to her it was going to clear your conscious.” Jacobs was now in Aria’s face as he slowly walked her backwards until she was pressed up against the wall. “You was as much to blame as I was. You wanted it then and by the look on your face you want it now or did you go all short stack in Sylo.” Jacobs smirked as Aria was mad as she turned Vince around and pinned him against the wall. “Ahhh... I remember now you did like it on top. Aria you’re just bitter that it never amounted to anything that is why you went and told her. You thought I was going to leave her for you. That wasn’t the case, We had fun and that was that.” Vince said with a smile. “You bastard. So is that the reason you are with Natalia now.” Aria said with a hint of jealousy in her voice. “No, I’m with Natalia because she was there for me during the divorce. What did you do but clear your conscious and then move on to someone else. You’re pathetic. You used to be the toughest woman I knew. What happened? Did you fall in love and the man you loved didn’t love you back? I’m sure that was it because if you were the same Aria Murphy I knew then you wouldn’t be in jOlt losing to Daryn Thompson.” Jacobs pushed Aria off of him as she was mad. “So to answer this question in your head about having the Rednecks attack you. No, I did not because you are not even a blip on my radar. My advice to you, make sure you stay far away from Sylo as possible. I do not want to see you take a stray bullet for something that was meant for him.” Aria’s face suddenly went from red to its normal shade. “I thought you didn’t care, Vince. I knew you were lying. I can always tell when you’re lying.” “Aria, if you align yourself with Sylo, you are dead to me. He and I are going to a place beyond reaches. We both despise each other and that’s never going to change. I can’t be held accountable for you if you are on his side.” Jacobs said as he opened his locker room door. Aria made her way to the door. She slowly turned to Vince and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry you feel that way Vinnie. But think about something, you think Sylo may be saying the same thing to Natalia, considering their history as well.” Vince gritted his teeth for a second. “Bye Aria.” Vince said as he shut the door behind the wrestling goddess.  West Texas Terrorists vs. Wippit Guud  
Both men got into the ring and rose their arms to the fans, which only made them boo louder. They turned to look at the entry, feet planted right in the middle of the ring, and began to talk a little as their music faded. Within 5 seconds, the fans were chanting "WIPPIT! WIPPIT!" at top volume. The WTT looked arouned bemused, and at a comment from Eli, Ezra began to laugh. 5 seconds turned to 30... and no Wippit. But the chants continued. 30 seconds turned to 45... and no Wippit. The noise level of the fans began to fade. 45 seconds tuned to 60... and now the chant was replaced with a confused buzz in the arena. The WTT turned to look at each other, and continued their conversation. After 1:30, both men began to laugh, and turned to look at the audience, rams raised in victory. And now the fans were booing again. And then new music began to play: "Meaning of Life" by Disturbed. The few in the ring who were fans way, way back began to cheer, but the vast majority just stood up to look and see who was coming out. But the cheers all but exploded in the ring when, indeed, Wippit Guud stepped out from behind the curtain. But he wasn't dressed in wrestling attire: a very retro "Get Psycho" Wippit Guud t-shirt and faded blue jeans was what the lightweight was wearing. No trademark shades. No smile. And... brass knuckles on each hand? Wip walked down to the ring, eyes focused on the two men inside, and giving no interaction to the fans. He stopped when he reached the apron, and the WTT looked down at him. Eying the larger men, he started walking around the ring, and they tracked his movements inside. When he got around to the annouce table and they were still standing there, Guud realized he wasn't going to be getting into the ring without a beating on the way. Wip raised and eyebrow, and turned away from the ring. And grabbing a steal chair, folded it up and threw it at them! The WTT stepped quickly to the sides to dodge the chair, and then had to dodge again as a second and a third chair came at them. When the 4th chair was thrown, they didn't immediately notice Wippit started running towards the ring at the same time, and by the time they were looking for the 5th chair, Wip slid under the bottom rope and somersaulted to his feet. They turned as he bounced off the ropes, and Wip jumped into a headscissors-bulldog on both men, taking them to the mat. Wip kipped to his feet. The crowd was cheering madly. As the Conways got slowback to their feet, Wippit picked up one of the chairs lying in the ring- CRACK! Chair across Eli's back. CRACK! Chair across Ezra's back. He threw the chair out of the ring and pinned Eli. ONE... TWO... Kickout! Guud immediately rolled onto Ezra for the pin. ONE... TWO... Kickout! Wip stood back up, and took a boot to the gut from a rising Eli Conway. Eli his Wip across the back with a stiff forearm, and then took the smaller man over with a suplex. Eli got back to his feet, and went to help his brother up to a vertical axis. But suddenly, Eli yelled out in pain and grabbed his back - Wippit just punched him in the kidneys with a brass-enhanced fist. He did a slow turn and Wippit suddenly dropkicked him into his brother, and both fell back through the ropes and out of the ring. As another WIPPIT chant started, the diminutive wrestler grabbed yet another chair. Holding it against his body, he launched himself off the far ropes and leaped over the top rope with a plancha. He missed Ezra, who moved at the last second, but collided into Eli with the chair between them, and both men fell to the protective mats outside. Unfortunately, as Ezra was untouched, he was in a better condition than Wippit, and took full advantage of it. Ezra picked Wippit up into a bearhug, and then slammed him spine-first into a ringpost, bringing a shout of pain. He then took Wip's head and slammed into the top of the steel steps. He bent down to pick up the chair that just hit his brother, and laid it across Wippit's back. Then Ezra jumpd onto the apron and dropped a leg across Wippit's back. And now Eli was back to his feet as well. Ezra grabbed Wippit from behind by the arms. Eli picked up the chair and jammed it into Wippit, who couldn't double-over because of his position. Eli held Wippit's face up with his left hand for a moment, and then slapped it hard with the right. Ezra let him go, and Eli scopped up the flyweight and body slammed him to the floor. The WTT was in complete control now. Eli picked Wippit up and whipped him to the far stairs. WIp took the blow on his thigh and spun over the steel to slam his back into the floor, close to the announce table. Wippit struggled to get to his hands and knees, just in time for Ezra to walk behind him and drop and elbow to WIp's spine, flattening him. The arena was quickly filling up with boos as the numbers game caught up with Guud - 2 on 1 is always a problem, especially with the size difference. Ezra picked Wippit up and scisorred his head- POWERBOMB THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! Wait, check that, the table didn't break! Wippit legs hung off the table as if his back was broken, wich his torso flat across the tablestop. He coughed a couple of times as he slowly slid to crumple on the floor, all power gone from his body. "You did it wrong!" shouted Eli to Ezra. "Here, let me show you." Hauling Wip up, Eli set up Wippit... POWERBOMB THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! And this time the table did indeed snap in half, much like Guud now looked snapped in half. Eli gestured to the result, "See?" Ezra was nodding. "Ok, Ok, let me try it again!." The table was already broken, but Wippit was being pulled up yet again. He hooked Guud's head between his legs- “Miracle (Pale horse remix)” - Nonpoint. Ezra let Wippit fall to the floor as the West Texas Terrorists turns towards the entry on the other side of the ring... and there was Sylo! And he was actually running towards the ring: the Superbeast had seen enough! Deciding the discression was the better part of valor - which is another way of saying "Oh hell no!", the Conways immediately bailed over the crowd barriers and ran for the concourse. Sylo made it to ringside and stopped at the barrier, watching two WTT run for their lives. EIGHT... NINE... TEN!  Winners: The West Texas Terrorists via Knockout The referee completed his count of Wippit laying on the floor, a broken and battered body. Sylo turned from from the fans and knelt down next to his friend, a hand reaching to grab Wips shoulder and let him know things would be all right. After a minute, Sylo had to stand back up when EMTs showed up to tend to Guud - and all could see the thundering anger on the SUperbeast's face as he looked around the arena.
Damien Lee sat at his desk backstage fumbling through some papers. He seemed to be searching for a particular paper but could not seem to find it. He grabbed his cup with coffee in it and took a sip. Suddenly the Skybox's door flung open and in walked ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs and Natalia with a briefcase. Jacobs was already in a foul mood as he walked closer to the CEO’s desk.“I know you were going to eventually get to your only big champion in the fed right now for my attack on the big dumb freak Sylo. I do not care about that fool. If I get another chance to put that bastard out, I’m not going to pass up on the opportunity. I wanted to give you a heads up on my intentions because I know you are a smart man and you wouldn’t suspend the biggest draw in this fed.” Lee looked up at Jacobs and Natalia. “Are you done?” Vince smirked as he sat in the chair and propped his feet up on Lee’s desk. “Well let me tell you something Vince, there is no man bigger than jOlt. Not you, not Sylo, not anyone. I am not going to let this company go down the toilet because everyone is running around doing what they want to do. So let me explain something to you Vince. This man next to me is the law. If there is more out of the ring attacks then he will make sure his shovel is involved.” Vince’s smirked disappeared. He stood to his feet. “Well since you will not see it my way then I will tell you again, I will do any and everything to put Sylo in his place and that’s beneath me.” Jacobs motioned for Natalia to put the briefcase on the desk. Jacobs opened the briefcase to show a bunch of money. “In this briefcase is one hundred thousand dollars. This is to pay for any fines you would lay on me from our little backstage brawl and what I plan to do in the future.” Jacobs smiled as he grabbed Natalia’s hand. The two headed toward the door as the briefcase was slammed shut by Lee. “Hey Vince, I applaud the fact that you are trying to stay one step ahead of your proposed fines, however on the little matter of the backstage attack with you and Sylo I have already handed down the punishment. See the money on the table will not atone for what happened a little over a week ago. So as far as the match at Divide and Conquer for the jOlt Championship is concerned, you and Sylo will be fighting for something else in this match. As punishment for your act, you will be putting the Legacy Championship on the line as well in a winner takes all match.” Vince was livid. “This is a travesty. You are just coddling that big blue freak. So I see how it is around here if you’re a freak than you get preferential treatment. Sylo, the idiot standing next to you with a shovel, the Phantom of the Opera – Ray Chavez, the boogie man – Citizen, and the mini-me Greg Vincent all get the Damien Lee stamp of approval.” Natalia pulled on Vince’s arm trying to calm the champion down. “Let’s go Vince; we have things to do.” “I’ll play by your rules for now but you need to know one thing about the Icon. You don’t ever want to cross Vince Jacobs.” Vince smirked as he and Natalia left the office. Lee returned to fingering through his paperwork. “He’s such a prick.” 
Fueled by Ignorance once again sat alone in a locker room. The only difference on this night was they weren't licking their wounds and regretting another loss inside the ring, but that was only because they didn't step foot in the ring at all tonight. Chris Register was looking worse for wear, most of his bruises coming at the hands of his partner. He sat there never once taking his eyes off of Chris Titan, the powder keg that was leaning up against the wall across the room from him.
"Chris, I think if we're going to be stuck in this situation then we need to call some kind of truce." Titan snarled, "You would say some pussy shit like that. You're the reason we're stuck to begin with." "Not exactly," Register said, "To be honest with you ... they didn't want you from the beginning." "What ... did you just say?" Chris Register readied himself for whatever was to come from his words, but he still said them. "jOlt. They invited me back but when I asked about you they said you were too hard to work with. When I suggested reforming FBI they agreed only if I could control you. But then ... I don't know what happened. You're completely out of control, we're losing, and I'm not sure what's going to happen to either of us." "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" "Chris," Register said, "I don't know what's going to happen to us next but..." Register may not have known what was going to happen next, but Chris Titan sure as hell did. He shot off the wall he had been resting against, causing Chris Register to hop off his own chair and prepare himself for yet another unprovoked attack. But that didn't happen. Instead, Titan headed right for the door. "Uncontrollable? I'll show those fucking..." *WHOCK!* "I dunno, seems like I pretty much got your bitch ass under control." Rune Winters, and his shovel, had met Chris Titan at the door. Rune dropped to one knee and leaned over Titan, who was wiping blood away from his nose in a daze. "Paybacks are a bitch, huh? Your boy over there told us you'd be right here, right now. Maybe next time don't go all apeshit on your tag team partners and you won't have to have your face rearranged. You do have balls coming after me first, I'll give you that much. And giving that hot bitch a shovel shot ... she did deserve it." *WHOCK!* "But Lee doesn't pay me to congratulate you, does he?" Rune got back to his feet, took a few steps forward towards Chris Register, and looked him dead in his eyes while towering over him with his huge body frame. "Just so we're clear on this ... I don't like rats either." *WHOCK!* "God," Rune said smiling, "I love this job." Leaving Rune Winters to admire his handiwork, Warriors went to the ring for the main event. Reno Davis vs. Khristain Keller  
As Derecho walked away, Keller was announced the winner and has managed to book himself into the final of the Underground Tournament. His reaction? "Smarmy cunt." 
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