Travis Miller holds Charlotte West overhead, pressing her into the air with a gorilla press. He heads towards the ropes, with Charlotte hanging on for dear life.Steve Hebert: Travis Miller is going to win the World Title! It's over! All he has to do is to dump that dumb, blonde broad to the floor.
Lex Robinson: This is going to be it...!
Steve Hebert: C'mon...
The closer he gets to the ropes, the more Charlotte writhes and shakes, trying to get free.
Steve Hebert: Here we go...
Lex Robinson: Wait... wait...!
Charlotte West is able to shake her way free from Travis's clutches and land safely behind him, on her own two feet! She leaps into the air and connects with a dropkick to the back of Travis Miller's skull, sending him stumbling over the top rope and tumbling to the floor!
Steve Hebert: What the fuck?! No! No!
Lex Robinson: Charlotte West has eliminated Travis Miller, who was so close to winning! Charlotte West is the very first Sin Wrestling champion!
Realizing what has occured, Charlotte jumps to her feet, holding her hands in the air. The fans celebrate her victory, as she bathes in the cheers, having become the first Sin Wrestling World Champion.
Getting out on the outer portion of the apron, Zimdela climbs the turnbuckles, pulling Casanova up with him. They're both standing on the top turnbuckle when Zimdela waistlocks Casanova, hoists him up and is ready to drop him with The Very Best in Pain onto the steel step and tacks.Lex Robinson: Zimdela's gonna hit The Very Best in Pain! This is it!
Steve Hebert: Oh fuck, Casanova's fighting back; sending elbow after elbow to Zimdela's head!
Lex Robinson: There's some punches! He has freed himself! Following that, Casanova strikes Zimdela with some palm thrusts to the bridge of his nose!
Steve Hebert: Oh man...
Lex Robinson: Destiny Calling off the top rope and onto the steel steps and thumbtacks! Zimdela goes face-first into the step and tacks... his face slams against the steel and the tacks! Oh my Jesus Christ!
Steve Hebert: No! Oh, holy fuck!
On the mat, Casanova manages to crawl over on top of Zimdela, making the cover. The referee, Stew Mattews, starts his count.
...1...2... Lex Robinson: ONE... TWO... THREE!
...3! Lex Robinson: Casanova's did it! In the process, he has also bloodied Zimdela Brudon!
Steve Hebert: I can't believe it. This is nuts.
Lex Robinson: Believe it. What a great match. What a great show. Look how long these two were wrestling!
Steve Hebert: If it was me, I'd die of a heart attack.
Lex Robinson: I know you would.
When the bell rings, Casanova is congratulated on his victory and is handed his World Title. Limping a tad, he is lifted up to his feet with some help from the referee and he holds his hands in the air.
Lex Robinson: These fans are extremely appreciative of these two. Listen to the chants.
Steve Hebert: Blah!
After the match, Casanova is presented with the Sin Trophy, which he holds above his bleeding head, proud of his accomplishment.
Finished with bashing Morgana's head off the canvas, Chris plucks his former love interest off the mat and standing headscissors her. In this position, Chris begins to rub his crotch all over Morgana's head, wanting to add insult to injury.Lex Robinson: Chris has Morgy's head in between his legs... and is rubbing his crotch all over his head. Fucking gross. This has to stop.
Steve Hebert: Now I'm all turned on. Just great.
Lex Robinson: Chris is going to piledriver her pretty head into the canvas. This is awful.
Steve Hebert: Hell no. He's pulling her up onto his shoulders, looking for a powerbomb!
Lex Robinson: Oh my, he is! He's... he is... uh...
Steve Hebert: Haha, he has her stalled up there. I think he's sniffing her crotch.
Lex Robinson: Oh dear. That's not right.
Steve Hebert: Fuck yeah. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
Lex Robinson: If he's going to powerbomb her down, then he should just do it.
Steve Hebert: He's going to--... oh fuck.
Up on Chris's shoulders, Morgana realizes her predicament and begins to fire off an unbelievable amount of punches to Chris's forehead and temple. These shots force Chris to stumble forward a bit, allowing Morgana to reach out for the ropes.
Lex Robinson: Morgana is firing away on Chris's head!
Steve Hebert: Goddamnit!
Lex Robinson: They're headed towards the ropes.
Steve Hebert: Good! This will allow Chris to dump the bitch on the floor!
Lex Robinson: Wait... Morgana with the huracanrana...! They both spill over the top rope!
Steve Hebert: And they both land on the floor! What the hell?
Lex Robinson: Uh... what just happened?
Steve Hebert: Isn't it obvious? They're both eliminated! We have no winner!
Lex Robinson: Uh... no, that's not how it works. There's gotta be a winner; but who?!
Much confusion is abound, as no one knows who the true winner is. Morgana has her hand raised by one ringside official, while Chris Extreme has his filthy hand raised by a secondary official. Even the referees begin to argue over who has won the match, prompting much discussion to be had.
Standing next to the ropes, Stevie turns around and realizes that Morgy is rushing back at her. Unable to move out of the way, Stevie uses the only idea she can muster up -- she ducks down.Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing backdrops Morgana over the top rope...!
Steve Hebert: She's hanging on! Like before, Morgana is hanging onto the top rope, trying to... uh... drown a cat... or whatever you said it was.
Lex Robinson: She's skinning the cat! She's pulling herself back up, hoping to get back inside... wait...!
In the center of the ring, Stevie, who thought she had won, sees Morgana trying to re-enter. A burst of emotion pervades Stevie, and all brain signals point to one course of action.
Lex Robinson: Stevie bursts forward and connects with "The Last Dance" superkick to Morgana, who's upside-down, trying to climb back inside...!
Steve Hebert: That knocks Morgana off the apron! She falls to the floor! Holy Jesus, this match is over!
Lex Robinson: Stevie wins! Stevie wins! Stevie Swing has won this match! Stevie Swing is the 2008 Sin Trophy winner! She goes into the record books; and she gets to book herself into whatever match she wants at Vanity, the next Sin Wrestling pay per view!
Steve Hebert: Well, son of a bitch... or is she a daughter of a bitch? What the hell is she, Lex?
The announcer's audio feed is cut off, as the attention turns toward Stevie Swing, who is in the middle of the ring, on her knees, holding her hands in the air. Blod continues to drip down her right arm, but that doesn't bother her -- victory belongs to her, with the fans pouring much praise onto her.
Just then, Morgana slides back inside, holding her back and holding the Sin Trophy. Looking quite agitated and annoyed, Morgana feigns signs of anguish at Stevie... only to then hand over the Sin Trophy and hug her.
Before exiting the ring, Morgana holds Stevie Swing's left hand in the air, points at her and makes sure all glory is on her. The final shot of the night is that of Stevie Swing holding the Sin Trophy above her head, basking in delight.
Fade out.
As Chris Extreme and Declan play reverse Tug of War with Declan, pushing on him from each side, Morgana disappears behind both men. She sends herself bouncing off the furthest set of ropes...It's showtime. Fade out.Lex Robinson: Here comes Morgana... John Woo Kick to the back of Declan! That sends him spilling over the top rope!
Steve Hebert: And there goes Crux, too!
Lex Robinson: No! Crux is caught by Chris Extreme, who holds him in his arms, like a sack of potatoes! Declan remains on the apron, saving himself!
The crowd is going nuts, as Morgana follows up.
Lex Robinson: Three of them are still left in the match...
Using the middle rope as a springboard, Morgana propels herself back, connecting with a dropkick to Declan, knocking him off the apron!
Lex Robinson: Declan falls!
Steve Hebert: He crashes into Chris Extreme and Crux! They all spill onto the floor! Ugh... no! That whore did it!
Lex Robinson: Morgana wins! Morgana wins! Morgana is the first-ever two-time Sin Trophy winner!
Steve Hebert: First, Corey Ashton... and now, this. Ugh. There's no hope left in the world.
Lex Robinson: The crowd is on their feet, celebrating Morgana's victory! What a show! What a night! We've had violence... high-flying... wrestling... everything!
On the floor, Declan Turner is horrified. He smacks his arm off the canvas, spits blood at the crowd and then walks to the back, obviously angry at the loss.
Chris Carson: I would like to take some time during this busy broadcast to... formally apologize to you all. Firstly, to apologize that you have to see my face like this. It's not the prettiest scene for you all to stomach, but considering this is what needed to happen to get The Creep out of wrestling, then I find these scars to be appropriate battle wounds.
Some in the crowd are already booing at the mention of The Creep's "death".
Chris Carson: Second of all, I would like to apologize for calling you all "petulant, perverted, vile fans" last time. I understand that it was wrong of me to assume that. See, I know that there are people out there who are good people.
Carson sighs heavily through his taped nose and holds the bandages carefully.
Chris Carson: I also know that there are misguided people out there. A lot of them would rather see violence out there instead of honest wrestling. See, unrestrained violence got The Creep where he is today. It killed him, and it nearly killed my own son. From now on, you will not see me pick up any foreign weapon at all. You will not see me participate in any dangerous gimmick matches. Most importantly, you will never see me bleed for the likes of your carnal satisfaction.
Most of the crowd is confused by this new depiction of Carson, but those that don't like it are booing the video, although Carson reacts as if the video is prerecorded, not flinching a bit. In fact, he's walking closer to the camera.
Chris Carson: My new mission here in Sin will be twofold. You're no longer getting a wrestler that cuts himself open at the drop of a hat. I plan to show all of the doubters that a wrestler can be successful here without having to get transfusions every other week. By showing you I can succeed, I'll hopefully be purifying those people who are violence freaks in the same way that I was purified myself.
He stops for a second, but soon continues.
Chris Carson: Mission two is pretty simple, too. My initial run as champion here may have been nullified; but I consider that victory as... damaged. If it is to be stricken from the records, then I will simply start over again. My body may be broken from the carelessness from The Creep, but my spirit? It has been reborn. Tonight, I will prove to you all that a man with his spirit whole and body bruised can beat a man with a soul that has been splintered.
Carson's face is almost too close to the lens.
Chris Carson: But I won't laugh in people's faces when I accomplish the feat that has been given me. I will simply ask that they join me in reinventing the wheel. That impostor you saw in The Creep... all of you will forget he ever existed. That's a guarantee in writing that will be put on the wall to see--Chris Carson will defeat...
Carson pauses a moment to consider the next words.
Chris Carson: Let me correct myself. Chris Carson will not defeat Chris Extreme; Christ will defeat Chris Extreme.
With that, Carson covers the camera with a hand, leaving the arena again in darkness, the crowd more disappointed than anything else in their displeasure...
Rosalyn Pryce: This dress is so pretty... I still can't believe mom bought it for me.
Justin glances down at his niece and grins.
Justin Pryce: Nothing wrong with spoiling you once in a while. Besides, it makes you look like a princess.
Rosalyn Pryce: You think so, Uncle Justin?
Justin Pryce: I know so. Come on, look at yourself.
He goes through one of the pockets of his suit, pulls out a pocket mirror and opens it up to her. She tilts her head and gets a better look for herself, allowing him to change the angle of the mirror to show the entirety of her look.
Justin Pryce: You're so beautiful, Rosie.
Rosalyn giggles a little and blushes. She's so modest and it's cute. She twirls once, the dress nicely going along with her movements. Justin closes the mirror, puts it back in his pocket and glances around.
Justin Pryce: Rosie, I'm gonna go outside and have a smoke. Will you be alright by yourself?
Rosalyn Pryce: I'll be okay. Just be quick; Extreme and Carson's gonna start in a few minutes.
Justin nods and heads outside to the nearest smoking section. Rosalyn turns on her white high heels and makes her way into a women's bathroom. A couple teenage girls just a little older than Rosalyn are applying some makeup, but when they notice her nice dress, they turn to her with glee.
Teenage Girl 1: Like wow, that's a really nice dress! Where'd you get it?
Rosalyn Pryce: Thank you. My mom bought it for me.
Teenage Girl 2: Hey, you're Rosalyn, Chelsea's daughter. I'm a fan of your mom; she's so cool!
"She is beautiful, but a useless woman nonetheless."
Rosalyn and the two girls turn towards the male voice and find Redmaine standing before them with a creepy smile on his face.
Teenage Girl 1: L-like, this is the girls' bathroom, weirdo! Get out!
Teenage Girl 2: Oh god, it's him, it's--!
Rosalyn Pryce: Redmaine...
Redmaine leers a little more, looks at the girls and verbally bursts.
Redmaine: BOO!
The two teenage girls scream and quickly run into different bathroom stalls as the only exit is blocked by the Terrorist. However, Rosalyn remains unmoved, as if paralyzed. Her eyes cannot even look away from him. He chuckles and leans down a little to get a closer look at her.
Redmaine: I see you got your courage from your mother. That's very interesting.
He reaches out and eerily runs a hand through her hair. She flinches, but she offers no other movement otherwise, simply looking him in the eye. His words begin to drip with awful disturbance.
Redmaine: Perhaps I was wrong to call you a young horror. You're beautiful...
She shivers as he draws his hand back and she finally looks away, trying not to reveal too much of her fear. However, he firmly yet gently grips her chin and turns her head to face him again. He begins to lean closer to her while his free hand brushes a few loose strands from the left side of her face.
Redmaine: A beautiful mistake. Yes, that's exactly what you are.
Rosalyn Pryce: ...what do you want from me?
Redmaine: Nothing, my little rose. Nothing at all.
Redmaine's face dawns his familiar wicked grin and he slowly strokes her hair. He admires her ever so gently and give her a soft kiss on the forehead.
"Hey, get the fuck away from her!"
The camera and Redmaine veer in the direction of the voice and they see Justin standing defensively in the doorway. Rosalyn's once again paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch as Redmaine sneers and places his hands in his coat pockets.
Redmaine: And who might you be?
Justin Pryce: Justin Pryce, civil and criminal lawyer. I've got security standing by if you don't get out right now.
Redmaine: Pryce? Hmmm... Alright, no need to be so tense. I'll make my leave.
The madman makes his way towards the door. Justin steps out of the way and lets him leave before he darts over to Rosalyn, placing his hands on his shoulders.
Justin Pryce: Rosie, are you alright? Are you hurt?
Rosalyn shakes her head and turns to the bathroom stalls.
Rosalyn Pryce: You two can come out now. He's gone.
The teenage girls slowly unlock the door and open it, peaking out just to make sure. The coast is clear; they sigh with some relief and thank her, quickly running out to return to the families. Justin takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly and holds his niece close to him.
Justin Pryce: I'm not leaving your sight again, okay?
Rosalyn Pryce: Okay... Come on, we better find our seats...
She bites down on her lower lip and sniffles a bit. He frowns, takes one of her hands in his and they both leave the bathroom to locate their seats in the arena. The camerawoman exits, but then she twists the camera to the right. Not too far away, Redmaine watches on from the shadows and chuckles.
Redmaine: He must be one of Chelsea's brothers. Of course...
Not another word, he ventures off to prepare for war.
I'm entitled to overcome
Completely stunned, I'm numb
Knock me down, throw me to the floor
There's no pain, I can feel no more
I'm entitled to overcome
The entrance song fades in with solid light coming from the screens, dimming into a "Chris Carson" logo with a cross embossed behind it. Once Carson comes onto the stage and walks towards the ring, he looks peaceful and ignorant of the crowd, the fixed spotlight following him to the ring, keeping him illuminated. He climbs into the ring and shrugs his robe off with his palms upturned, the lights flashing on. Carson's face hasn't changed its neutral expression, and he steps back into his corner to wait for the bell.
Lex Robinson: Welcome, everyone, to Over the Top Rope 6. We have a stacked card for you tonight.
Steve Hebert: Do we ever.
Lex Robinson: We're kicking things off with a World Title match. The last time a World Title match opened the pay per view, we ended up having 2 title changes in the night. What will happen tonight?
Steve Hebert: Come to think of it, the last time we started with a World Title match, that title somehow ended up in the clutches of the current champ, that dirty, whorish faggot, Chris Extreme. If we're lucky, we'll exorcise that title out of his -- or her -- or whatever's hands. God, please let it happen.
Lex Robinson: Originally, Chris was supposed to take on Corey Ashton. However, Corey Ashton was taken out by an unknown assailant. Whoever it was, we don't know. What we do know is that Extreme was left without an opponent... until Chris Carson stepped back into the picture.
Steve Hebert: A brand new Chris Carson, too. A more wholesome fellow. A much nicer guy, if you ask me.
Lex Robinson: Well, he's in the ring right now, waiting for the World Champion to come out. He isn't in good shape, though.
Steve Hebert: Hey, he stepped in at the last minute and filled the vacant spot left by Corey Ashton. He should be considered a national hero. Just like Jesus, he has suffered and is ready to rise back to the top.
Lex Robinson: ...Even though his first World Title reign has been stricken from the books?
Steve Hebert: Ah, shut up.
A loud, thunderous explosion occurs, and "Goodbye Horses" by Q Lazzarus blasts over the airways, immediately igniting the arena into cheers. Stepping out from the pink smoke is the World Champion, Chris Extreme, wearing a pink, sparkling robe.
With the crowd in a cheering frenzy, Chris struts down to the walkway. He blows some kisses at his adoring fans, and teases the front row by winking at them and shaking his tits. Once he reaches the ringside area, Chris removes his pink, sparkling robe to reveal his pink strapped, shiny gold World Title belt. His ring attire consists of a plain black tank top, a minuscule pink and black plaid skirt, black fishnet stockings, and black, knee high boots. After handing over the World Title to an official, Chris enters the ring and slouches in the corner, waiting for his match to begin while licking his lips.
Lex Robinson: Here he is -- the World Champ! At the last Eternity, he displayed some weird behaviour, though. Nonetheless, The Cree-- errr...
Steve Hebert: The Creep is dead, retard.
Lex Robinson: Yeah, I know. I was saying that Chris Carson hopes to capitalize on the champ's weird behaviour.
Steve Hebert: Goddamn right. I'm not a religious man. In fact, I'd rather suck a cock than go to church... I'd rather by sodomized by Dontam Dyce, in fact. I'd rather get sickle cell an--...
Lex Robinson: Yes, we get it. You're not religious.
Steve Hebert: Okay, good. Just trying to make a point. Anyhow, as I was saying, Chris Carson hopes to -- and needs to -- capitalize on this weird, erratic behaviour from Chris Extreme. Or Chrisgana. Or whoever he thinks he is nowadays.
Lex Robinson: Here we go. We're ready to officially begin things...
The two men circle each other, with Chris Extreme showing off his hotpink wardrobe. In response to this, Chris Carson shakes his head, dissatisfied with Extreme's display.
Steve Hebert: The man formerly known as The Creep is not amused. I don't blame him. Chris Extreme needs to be locked up.
Lex Robinson: They lock-up, with Carson, who is still showing signs of injury from his Barbed-Wire Ambulance Match from Wonderland.
Steve Hebert: He's literally battered and bruised... and torched. Poor old Carson. This just shows how much of a proud, brave hero he is. There's no way he should be wrestling here tonight, but here he is.
Lex Robinson: Of course fighting for the World Title probably has something to do with it.
Steve Hebert: Well... yeah.
Right away, Chris Carson applies a side-headlock and soon takes Chris Extreme down with a side-headlock takedown. However, Chris is quick to squirm his way out of the hold and jump back to his feet, with Chris Carson taking his time to also rise.
Steve Hebert: Ugh. Oh God, poor Carson. This is so horrifying to watch.
Lex Robinson: They go to lock-up again... but Carson slips his way out of Chris Extreme's clutches, spins around and snap mares the champ.
Steve Hebert: Good. That's what he needs to do. He needs to keep Chrisgana Extreme flat on her back... or his back... or whatever, goddamnit. Look, Chris Extreme is just a letdown. Bring back the black-hating, white-powered Chris Extreme. Not this pussification.
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme is currently too busy getting kicked in the spine by Chris Carson to do anything, though. When he's finished kicking at his opponent, Chris Carson lifts the flambouyant World Champion to his feet, elbows him in the skull and backs him against the ropes. In here, he kicks Chris Extreme and goes to whip him out... only to have Extreme hold on to the top rope, refusing to be sent across the ring.
Steve Hebert: Ugh. Kick his hand away, Carson. Hell, poke him in the eye, if you have to.
Lex Robinson: What about Carson just wanting to have a nice, clean match?
Steve Hebert: Sacrifices sometimes need to be made.
Lex Robinson: Nevertheless, Chris Extreme halts himself and pulls Chris Carson towards him, beating him with some punches, instead. Now it's Chris Extreme who attacks Chris Carson, backing him into the corner with some shots, much to the joy of the fans.
Steve Hebert: Those turncoats. They just want to see some blood. Chris Carson's blood, to be more precise. Well, it's not going to happen!
\ Chris Extreme climbs to the middle rope, punching away at Chris Carson's head, with the fans counting along. When he's done, he grabs Chris Carson's head and batters it with his crotch, making the fans let out a joyous rumble!
Lex Robinson: Cock to the face!
Steve Hebert: Holy cock.
Lex Robinson: Damn right it is.
Steve Hebert: Disgusted, Chris Carson shoo's that dirtbag, Chris Extreme, off him. Nailing him with a stiff right hand to the jaw, he floors Extreme and rolls to the outside, where he regroups, sickened with what just happened. Lord knows where that cock has been.
Lex Robinson: Don't make me miss Mercedes.
Steve Hebert: Ridiculous.
On the outside, Chris Carson walks around the ring, watching his former nemesis, Chris Extreme, on the inside.
Lex Robinson: These two have quite the history. It was Chris Carson, as The Creep, that terrorized and tortured the Extreme family for years.
Steve Hebert: He even sent that motherfucker off a cliff, while in the back of an ambulance!
Lex Robinson: I guess turnabout is fairplay, right? Especially after what happened at Wonderland, with Chris Carson being locked in the ambulance, which Corey Ashton then set on fire.
Steve Hebert: Don't remind me. To be frank, I'm surprised Chris Carson can even wrestle in this match. At least it killed the moniker of The Creep, for good.
Lex Robinson: The Creep lives in all of us, Steve.
Steve Hebert: Not in Chris Carson. It's been purged. The evil is gone. I, for one, am thankful.
Lex Robinson: He goes to get back into the ring... only to be struck with a running baseball-slide dropkick from Chris Extreme! If he were The Creep, he would have dodged out of the way of that, pulled Chris to the floor and beaten the hell out of him. Unfortunately, he is now laying across the railing, having been blasted by Chris's feet!
Watching as Chris Carson stumbles out from the steel railing, Chris Extreme calls upon the spirit of Morgana, as he slingshots himself over the top rope and hopes to take Carson down with a slingshot plancha!
Lex Robinson: Wait, no! Chris Carson steps out of the way! Luckily for our World Champ, he lands safely on his feet.
Steve Hebert: He's not my World Champ.
The second that Chris Extreme lands, Chris Carson grabs him, chops him across the chest and hammers him with some forearms to the pectroalis muscles. Grabbing Chris Extreme by his pink hair, Carson drags him towards the railing and threatens to bash his skull off the steel, much to the delight of the crowd. However, Chris Carson stops himself, looks out at the fans that are calling for blood, shakes his head and calmly rolls Chris Extreme back into the ring.
Lex Robinson: What the--...? Chris Carson had the perfect opportunity to bash Chris Extreme's skull in! What was he thinking?
Steve Hebert: He told you. I told you. He wants to wrestle a nice, respectful wrestling match.
Lex Robinson: Oh, come on. When you see your chance, you take it.
Steve Hebert: Nope. That's what The Creep would have done; not Chris Carson. I told you he is a new man.
Lex Robinson: Wow. I'm speechless.
Sliding back inside, Chris Carson follows after Chris Extreme, making sure to keep him facedown. First, Carson drops a leg across the back of Chris Extreme's head, rolls over and then applies a hammerlock, hoping to make him feel some pain.
Steve Hebert: Make him tap, Carson!
Lex Robinson: Chris Carson is dropping knees to Extreme's right arm, hoping to add in some extra punishment.
Steve Hebert: See? Get him to tap.
Lex Robinson: Slowly, but surely, Chris Extreme gets to a kneeling base, hoping to fight Carson off. However, Carson soon converts the hold into a wristlock.
Steve Hebert: Don't let that sideshow freak escape. Make him tap just like Daniel.
Lex Robinson: Whaaa'?
Steve Hebert: Look. I have no idea.
Lex Robinson: Anyhow...
Whipping on Chris Extreme's arm, Chris Carson is surprised when the World Champ rolls forward, trying to free himself. Rolling himself free, Chris Extreme sweeps Carson off his feet and goes for a somersault senton onto Carson, who rolls safely out of the way, making Extreme land on his back!
Lex Robinson: Agh... so much for that.
Steve Hebert: That fucking lunatic tries to go on the attack, but winds up on his back. Glorious!
Lex Robinson: As a result, Chris Carson goes right on the attack, kicking and stomping at Extreme, who tries to rise, but is kept down. He delivers one elbowdrop to the back of Chris Extreme's neck, followed by another... and another. Lifting Chris up, he punches him until he is cornered in the ring and whips him across the ring, into the opposite corner.
Steve Hebert: And here comes Chris Carson, ready to nail an avalanche clothesline...
Lex Robinson: But Chris Extreme goes up-and-over, twists around and performs a sunset-flip rollup on him!
The referee drops down and makes the count...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: Oh no...!
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme surprises Chris Carson...!
...
Lex Robinson: ...but only gets a two-count!
Steve Hebert: Oh, thank Christ! I mean that, too.
Scissoring his ankles together, Chris Carson is able to remove himself from the attempted pinfall by bringing them against Chris Extreme's temples! Getting back up, he quickly goes back on the attack and hammers a forearm across the back of Extreme's neck, keeping him on his knees.
Steve Hebert: Keep that motherfucker down! Even if you have to grab onto his stupid pink hair and punch him in the throat.
Lex Robinson: But isn't that something The Creep would do?!
Steve Hebert: Listen. Shut up. There's a time and a place. And this is the place and time to punch that creepy, weird douchebag in the nuts, face and asshole.
Lifting Chris Extreme up, Chris Carson soon brings him back down with a snap-suplex. Getting back up, he bounces off the ropes and comes back, dropping several forearms across the champ's chin.
Steve Hebert: Stay on him! C'mon!
Lex Robinson: He sits Chris Extreme up, bounces off the ropes and drops down, delivering a falling-clothesline, which brings Extreme back down! These fans are jeering at Chris, not liking his new attitudes, as he hoists the World Champ up and nails him with a backbreaker.
Steve Hebert: Fuck 'em, that's what I say. He doesn't need 'em anyhow.
Applying a reverse-chinlock, Chris Carson grinds his knee into Chris Extreme's back, hoping to wear him down, whilst listening to the complaints from the fans.
Lex Robinson: They are clamoring for Chris Extreme to rise, but The Creep-- damnit, I did it again.
Steve Hebert: Stop it. You're gonna have to get used to the change, Lex.
Lex Robinson: I know. Even so, Chris Carson isn't holding back, not wanting Chris Extreme to rise. Even so, the World Champ fights back, soon getting to his feet, with Chris Carson clinging on to him. There are several elbows delivered to Carson's gut, which allows Extreme to escape and bounce off the nearest set of ropes. Here goes...
Steve Hebert: Chris Carson goes to knee him... wait...!
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme somersaults over the knee and rolls him up!
The referee again makes the count...!
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: One... two...!
Steve Hebert: Chris Carson kicks out! Yes!
Lex Robinson: Slowly, Chris Carson rises, still in pain. Before he can to a full standing base, though, Chris Extreme goes on the attack.
Steve Hebert: Oh, now the fans cheer.
On his feet, Chris Extreme strikes with a flurry of punches that back Carson against the ropes. Whipping the challenger across the ring, he leapfrogs over him and prepares for his next return. Dropping onto his back, Chris Extreme places his feet in the air, trying to flip him; but Carson has other plans.
Lex Robinson: Chris Carson stops himself, just in the nick of time! Instead, he grabs onto Chris Extreme's feet, stomps at his face and goes to wheelbarrow-suplex him! However, Chris Extreme slides out of it... only to have Chris Carson swing him forward and bring him down with a neckbreaker! All of that and Chris Extreme is dropped with a neckbreaker from the man that used to be known as The Creep!
Steve Hebert: Yes! He may be reformed, but Chris Carson always will outsmart Chris Extreme! No matter what.
Lex Robinson: Chris Carson crawls across Chris Extreme, placing his right forearm across the champ's jaw, while making the cover. The fans are not enjoying this!
Steve Hebert: Good. Now, make the pinfall, referee!
As if on cue, the referee drops down and begins making the count for The Creep's favour...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: One...! Two...!
...
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme pops his shoulder off the canvas! So close!
Steve Hebert: Not close enough, as far as I'm concerned.
Lifting Chris Extreme up, Carson holds Extreme up into a vertical suplex position, only to drop him face-first onto the canvas!
Steve Hebert: That's more like it. Go on the attack.
Kicking Extreme in the shoulder, Carson picks him up, applies a front-facelock and tries wearing him down. However, the fans are firmly on Chris Extreme's side.
Lex Robinson: Chris is being worn down, but the crowd is chanting for him, not wanting him to lose his title. Chris Carson is dragging him down, trying to make him go flat.
Steve Hebert: He's down to his knees! Come on! Put him to sleep!
Lex Robinson: Oxygen is being cut-off to Extreme's head! This can't be good!
Steve Hebert: As if it matters.
Lex Robinson: The referee moves in, checking on the champ's condition. He raises his hand once...
...it falls...
Lex Robinson: Down it goes! He raises it again...!
...it falls...
Lex Robinson: And it's down again! Once more for posterity...!
...
Lex Robinson: It dro--...
Steve Hebert: Goddamnit!
Lex Robinson: No! Chris Extreme is fighting! Slowly, he fights back, hammering some fists into the ribs of Chris Carson, who can't believe it! With the fans chanting him on, Chris is up to one knee... and now is fully standing!
Steve Hebert: Oh, no...
Lex Robinson: Release Northern Lights suplex from the World Champion!
Steve Hebert: If that pink-haired faggot wins, I swear to God I'll blow my head off. I can't go another second of him being champ. How the mighty have fallen, indeed. He;s no Morgana. Morgana was hot and had nice tits. Chris Extreme? Fake tits and a big, dirty cock. Disgusting!
Holding his back, an injured and battered Chris Carson sits up. Behind him, Chris Extreme uses the ropes to help him stand, looks over his shoulder and sees his former nemesis in pain. Moving in, Chris Extreme lifts Carson up, pulls him in and punches him between the legs.
Lex Robinson: Testicle punch!
Steve Hebert: Oh my God! How is that legal?!
Lex Robinson: Hey, the referee is letting it go.
Steve Hebert: This is so not fair!
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme grabs Chris Carson, places him between his legs and hoists him up onto his shoulders, in a powerbomb position...
Within seconds, Chris Carson is powerbombed into the turnbuckles, having his head snap back, taken aback by the damage done to him. As a result, he drops to the ground, feeling the pain surge throughout his body, enabling Chris Extreme to stagger into the corner, listening to the cheers from the fans.
Steve Hebert: Oh Jesus. After that powerbomb, I don't know if Chris Carson can move.
Lex Robinson: Chris pulls the reborn Carson parallel to the corner, turns around and looks to the top rope. Here goes nothing!
Chris Extreme vigorously climbs to the top rope, having something big in mind. Upon realizing this, though, an injured Chris Carson rises to his knees, seeing danger in his eyes. Thinking fast, he grabs onto the referee and nudges him against the ropes, crotching Chris on the top rope!
Steve Hebert: Haha, that dummy! Chris Extreme lands on his cock! It may be broken!
Lex Robinson: Goddamn, I hope not.
Steve Hebert: That was the gayest thing, ever, Lex.
Moving in, Chris Carson grabs onto his opponent and flips him onto his shoulders...
Steve Hebert: Industria! That's one of Chris Carson's promised new moves! He has driven Extreme into the ring! Just clobbered him!
Lex Robinson: He hit that reverse-powerbomb off the top rope, too! He's making the cover...!
As Chris Carson covers Chris Extreme, the referee drops down and makes the count...!
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: One... two...!
...
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme places his foot on the bottom rope! The count is stopped!
Steve Hebert: Ah, fuck me!
Lex Robinson: The fans are on their feet, glad to see this; whereas Chris Carson is pissed. Slowly, he gets to his feet--...
Steve Hebert: More like he cripples to his feet.
Lex Robinson: He's in the referee's face, yelling at him, telling him that he should have counted faster. Alas, he didn't and Chris Extreme is still the World Champ, as of now. Perhaps instead of bickering with the ref, Carson should get back to work.
Steve Hebert: No, Lex, that awful referee needs to realize his mistake. Chris Carson had him beat; and that's final.
In the midst of arguing, Chris Carson takes his eyes off the World Champ, not realizing Extreme is crawling to his feet and is looking his way. Taking advantage of this, Chris Extreme pulls himself together and rockets towards Chris Carson...
Lex Robinson: Running dropkick to the back of Chris Carson, who goes sprawling into the referee, knocking them both to the floor! Oh my.
Steve Hebert: That referee had it coming! As for Carson, well, he needs to get the hell back up, post-stat.
Next to the referee, Chris Carson slowly stands, trying to figure out what just happened, feeling as if he were struck by a truck. When he peers inside of the ring, he views Extreme charge towards him.
Steve Hebert: Oh no. Chris Extreme bounces off the ropes and is rolling and tumbling like a retard. He does a stupid, faggy cartwheel that shows off his testicles, reaches the ropes and somersaults up-and-over them, like a Down's Syndrome Special Olympian.
Lex Robinson: ...and he lands on Chris Carson, flattening him to the floor!
Steve Hebert: Ugghhh. Yuck!
Lex Robinson: Once again, the fans are on their feet. Chris Extreme lifts Carson to his feet and bashes his face off the ring railing; something Carson should have done if he didn't want to be in this position.
Steve Hebert: Don't patronize him, you prick. He's a new man. A new man, who is better than you. When's the last time you went to church, huh? When's the last time you gave your child a hug, faggot?
Lex Robinson: I... uh... I don't have a kid.
Steve Hebert: That's not the point! Chris Carson has purged The Creep; and I couldn't be any happier.
Lex Robinson: Well, that's you.
Showing no remorse for Chris Carson's damage, Chris Extreme whips his opponent into the steel steps, making a loud clanging noise! Pulling Carson onto the same steps, Chris Extreme hoists the reborn Carson up and delivers a spike-piledriver onto the steel, knocking him silly!
Steve Hebert: Oh no...
Lex Robinson: That piledriver may have knocked The Creep back into him!
Steve Hebert: God, I hope. Do you hear me, God? Huh?
Lex Robinson: For cryin' out loud. In a daze, The Cre--- I did it again, didn't I?
Steve Hebert: You are useless.
Lex Robinson: He rolls around, knocked loopy. Chris Extreme, meanwhile, lifts Carson up and rolls him back inside. Now what's he doing?
Steve Hebert: He's getting a chair from a rowdy fan, that's what! This is not allowed! This is no DQ!
Lex Robinson: For once, you're right. We'll have those types of matches later tonight; but for now, we're supposed to be under normal rules.
Steve Hebert: And yet these fans are eating it up, cheering Chris Extreme on! What the fuck?!
Climbing the ring steps, Chris Extreme gets back onto the apron and climbs to the top rope, still with the steel chair in his hands. Looking inside, he watches Chris Carson writhe in pain, in the center of the ring, deciding to take to the air with the chair.
Lex Robinson: Chris Extreme somersaults off the top rope, tucking that chair under his shoulders...!
Steve Hebert: Carson rolls out of the way!
Lex Robinson: Uh oh...!
At the right time, Chris Carson rolls to his left, avoiding the aerial attack from the World Champion! This results in Chris Extreme crashlanding onto the chair, in the middle of the ring! He rolls around in pain, with Chris Carson feeling lucky to have moved out of the way.
Steve Hebert: Hahaha, fucking awesome. What a dummy! Good job, Cre-- now I did it. Son of a bitch!
Lex Robinson: He saw Chris Extreme launch; and as a result, he rolled the heck out of the way. As a result, Chris Extreme plastered himself with the chair, while crashing in the ring. He's in dire pain, allowing for Chris Carson to crawl towards him, pick up the chair and glare at it. Oh dear, is "The Creep" going to come out?
Steve Hebert: Hmmm... go ahead! Do it! Nail him!
Lex Robinson: Even the crowd is cheering him on! This is weird!
Steve Hebert: Of course. All they want is bloodshed. But you know what...
Sneering at the fans, Chris Carson calmly opens the chair, positions it in the ring and then sits on it, choosing not to bash Chris Extreme with it.
Steve Hebert: Chris Carson said he just wants to wrestle a clean match; and he'll do it. Whether these dumb, bloodthirsty fans want it or not.
Lex Robinson: ...Wow. I have no idea what to say.
Steve Hebert: Thank God.
Lex Robinson: Instead of going on the attack, Chris Carson takes a seat and opts to lock in a sleeperhold on Chris Extreme. Holy crap... even the fans are stunned.
Steve Hebert: As long as Chris Extreme goes unconscious, The Creep will be fine.
The referee moves in, checking on Chris Extreme's condition. He lifts his hand once...
Lex Robinson: You know what? He may be out...
Steve Hebert: See? Told ya so.
He lifts his hand twice... it drops again...
Lex Robinson: Again, it goes down. This might really be over!
The referee lifts the hand for a third time...
Steve Hebert: Ye--...! No! Not again!
Lex Robinson: Again, Chris Extreme refuses to quit! He rises to his feet, with Chris Carson still clinging on with the sleeperhold. He elbows Carson once... twice... thrice! He gives Carson such a hard elbow that it knocks the wind out of him and forces him back down to the chair! He bounces off the ropes and returns with a John Woo Kick to Carson, toppling both him and the chair over! Chris Extreme is surging!
Steve Hebert: I hope he surges right off a cliff... yet again.
Chris Extreme crawls into the corner, having the fans cheer him on. Reaching to the top rope, he begins to rise...
Lex Robinson: He's going to the top rope, this has to be it...
Showing much resilience, especially with all the damage and injuries to him, Chris Carson rises, viewing Extreme climb to the top. Before the champ can get to the top rope, Carson chugs in like a locomotive and nails a fallaway lungblower to Chris Extreme, catching him from behind, off the top rope!
Lex Robinson: Caritas!
Steve Hebert: Holy canoli, speak English.
Lex Robinson: No! That's one of his new moves!
Steve Hebert: ...Oh. Well, so is this...
Sweat pours down Chris Carson's face and drips into his scarred pores, as he rises back to his feet. He lifts Chris Extreme up, slaps him across the face a few times and raises him up onto his shoulder, into a crucifix position.
Steve Hebert: Wait... wait... this is going to be it!
Hoisting Chris up a little higher, Carson allows Extreme to slip away, only to nail him with a fallaway-neckbreaker!
Steve Hebert: "The Chris-ofix"! Do you like it, Lex?!
Lex Robinson: Oh no... he has taken Chris Extreme out! He's making the cover!
Steve Hebert: We're going to have a new champion!
As Chris Carson covers the champ, the referee makes the count...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: One... two...
...3!
Steve Hebert: Three! He has done it! Chris Carson has made his return to Sin Wrestling, injuries and all, and has reclaimed the World Title! Unlike the last one, this time it counts!
Lex Robinson: ...Wow. I am... wow...! I never thought it'd end like this for Chris Extreme. I know things have been weird for him, as of late, but I really thought Chris Extreme would put up more of a fight.
Steve Hebert: Fuck that lunatic. He needs to be locked away forever. It's Chris Carson's time, now. Not Chrisgana's time. Not "The Creep"'s time. It's Chris Carson's time.
Lex Robinson: You're liking this, aren't you?
Steve Hebert: Like it? I LOVE it!
The fans jeer as Chris Carson is awarded the World Title and has his hand raised by the referee. He goes to stand, but falls back down, still injured; and still feeling the pain from this match.
Steve Hebert: He may be a little crippled, but hey, he's the new World Champion. Morgana, eat your heart out. You, too, Chrisgana... and any other Fakeganas.
Lex Robinson: Hmmph...
Steve Hebert: Lex may be speechless, but I'm certainly not. What a great way to kick-off tonight's show. The only way it'd get better is if Kerry Windsor fucks Chelsea Pryce's teenage daughter. Barring that, I'd also be happy with a Kerry Windsor suicide.
Lex Robinson: Ugh.
With his wounds apparent, Chris Carson stands to his feet, hovering over Chris Extreme, who sits up, not knowing what happened. Carson leaves the ring, getting showered with jeers, slinging the World Title over his right shoulder. He walks to the back, with a smile plastered across his lips, leaving a despondent Chris Extreme inside of the ring.
Ace Rodgers: Chris... Chris... you just lost the World Title! How are you feeling? It can't be good. What happened out there? What's been going on?
Chris Extreme: ...
The microphone is pointed in Chris's face, but he still says nothing.
Ace Rodgers: Uhm... well?
The duo continue to walk along, with Chris not even going to his locker room.
Ace Rodgers: Why so serious? Answer me.
In fact, Chris completely bypasses his dressing room. He goes right towards the exit doors, ignoring Ace's questions. However, before he can leave, Corey Page walks into view.
Corey Page: Hey... where are you going?
Chris doesn't even respond to Corey Page.
Corey Page: I said... where are you going?
Still nothing.
Ace Rodgers: He won't talk to me, either!
Chris opens the exit door and begins to walk out of the arena, still silent.
Corey Page: Come back here! You still have a main event to participate in!
Again, no response.
Corey Page: My God, my main event is falling apart. Get back here.
Without responding, Chris Extreme shuts the door behind him, closed. A look of confusion is shown upon both Ace Rodgers's and Corey Page's face. Corey shrugs, not knowing what to do, while Ace can only look perplexed about the entire situation.
Lex Robinson: Where the hell is Chris Extreme going? Why did he look so serious and somber?
Steve Hebert: Maybe he's gone to have a good cry.
Lex Robinson: We need him for tonight's main event. He still isn't finished here.
Steve Hebert: Pffft. We've got one more clusterfuck, anyhow. One of these guys will determine who will be the last entrant into the battle royal.
Lex Robinson: We still have Jake Norton to come out...
"Starfuckers, Inc" by Nine Inch Nails hits the sound system and Jake Norton walks out to a huge ovation. He is wearing black tights and a "Fuck Niggers lawlz" t-shirt. He walks down to the ring and jumps in quickly, climbing the top ropes and throwing the shirt into the crowd. He jumps off and turns to face his opponent.
Steve Hebert: I like his shirt.
Lex Robinson: You would, wouldn't you?
Steve Hebert: Well... yes.
The bell rings, officially starthing the match.
Lex Robinson: And here we go! All four participants circle around each other, wanting to get into tonight's main event. Who will it be?
Steve Hebert: It certainly won't be J.Polo; he's fucking terrible.
Lex Robinson: Just as you say that, J.Polo is struck with a dropkick from Zoe, sending him into the corner, where he is then blasted with some kicks from Johnny Roman. However, Roman soon turns around and goes after the person that eeked out a victory over him at the previous Eternity: Jake Norton.
Steve Hebert: Johnny is pissed because Norton outwitted him. It's what Norton does.
Lex Robinson: Well, Johnny Roman is quickly taken down by a drop-toe-hold from Zoe, before he can even make contact with Jake, who then delivers a knee to the back of Johnny's skull. So much for that, I guess.
While on his knees, Jake is grabbed by Zoe, who throws him into the ropes. She leapfrogs over him; and on his return, goes to backflip onto him, but Jake side-steps out of the way and guides Zoe to the canvas, smashing her into the ground!
Steve Hebert: Welp. That was one miscue, if I've ever seen one.
Lex Robinson: Not only that, but Jake Norton is using this as an opportunity to nail a punting kick to Zoe's skull, as she is on her hands and knees!
Steve Hebert: I believe her head flew into the 10th row!
Lex Robinson: As a result, she's down on the ground and he's going to try and Boston Crab her.
Steve Hebert: He stops, though. What's he doing? He wants to grab her tit, that's what!
Lex Robinson: Oh dear...
Steve Hebert: He's reaching down, about to grab hold of it. Fucking hot.
Before he can touch her, though, J.Polo walks into the scene, ruining everything. Turning Jake Norton around, J.Polo goes to punch him in the face. Except Jake ducks the blow, knees Polo in the back and then nails a lowblow!
Steve Hebert: J.Polo gets punched in the balls! Thank god. He ruined Jake Norton's chance of grabbing some titty.
Lex Robinson: Things go from bad-to-worse for J.Polo. Jake Norton hoists him up onto his shoulders, in a fireman's carry. He swings him out... and delivers a cutter! He's going to go for a cover!
The referee views Norton covering J.Polo and starts the count...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: Johnny Roman interrupts the count with a stomp to the back of the head! He even grabs Jake and rolls him up with a cradle...
Lex Robinson: A Majistral Cradle, to be exact...
Again, the referee counts...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: Jake Norton kicks out with ease! In fact, Jake Norton jumps up and greets Johnny Roman with a simple kick to the face.
Steve Hebert: Sometimes a kick to the face does it's job. In this case, it really did.
Lex Robinson: Johnny Roman rolls over, holding his face, in pain. Jake Norton goes to follow up; but again, J.Polo interrupts. This time, J.Polo is on his hands and knees, in a daze, and he grabs onto Jake Norton's feet, begging for mercy. Looking down at him, Jake feigns pity and then hoists J.Polo up.
Steve Hebert: BOOM! Literally, BOOM!
Lex Robinson: Double-underhook powerbomb-piledriver!
Steve Hebert: J.Polo is getting the shit beaten out of him.
As Jake Norton gets back up, he is attacked from the side by Zoe. Grabbing her, he tosses her over the top rope, sending her to the floor, possibly simulating his actions for later tonight.
Lex Robinson: Was that a preview of things to come, for Jake Norton?
Steve Hebert: He tosses that hot, random girl to the floor! Too bad he didn't throw her onto my lap.
Lex Robinson: Only Jake Norton remains standing in the ring, with Johnny Roman and J.Polo down on the canvas. Jake lifts Polo up, tosses him against the corner and then sits him on the top rope.
Steve Hebert: Oh boy. He's climbing up with him...
Lex Robinson: Wait, here comes Johnny Roman, who jumps to his feet and runs in at Norton...
Leaping at Jake Norton, Johnny strikes him in the back, stopping his assault on J.Polo. As a result, Jake hops down, pokes Roman in the eye and then hits full-nelson release suplex!
Steve Hebert: Johnny Roman is dumped on his goddamn head!
Lex Robinson: Meanwhile, Jake Norton is back up and is climbing to the top rope, along with J.Polo. He's double-underhooking his arms... he delivers Comatorium!
Jake Norton plummets to the ring, driving J.Polo's skull into the canvas from the top rope. He rolls Polo over and hooks a leg.
Lex Robinson: The count is being made...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: One... two...
...3!
Lex Robinson: Three! Jake Norton wins! He will advance to the main event, earning the final spot in the battle royal!
Having his hand raised by the referee, Jake Norton soon pulls away, getting a mixed reaction from the crowd. He mockingly laughs at J.Polo and exits the ring, where he walks up to the back, leaving the ringside area.
Steve Hebert: Hmm... not bad. Not bad at all.
Lex Robinson: A pretty impressive showing, don't you think? And there's more to come!
The other three competitors remain at the ringside area, looking aloof, trying to figure out what went wrong. The final image is that of J.Polo still unconscious on the ground, with drool coming out of his mouth.
Chelsea Pryce: Where is that motherfucking son of a bitch?! Redmaine! I'LL KILL HIM!
And that was why.
Having been informed that the Terrorist had been awfully borderline-pedophile with her daughter, she mutters under her breath and runs a hand through her hair. One of the fans try to approach her, but she gave him one glare and he decides otherwise, giving her some space.
Chelsea Pryce: Goddamnit, I'm gonna rip his eyes straight from their sockets and stuff them down his throat... NO ONE messes with my family, especially my little girl...
Kelvin slaps a five down on the table and takes the hotdog, hungrily taking a bite as he walks back through the crowd. He spots Chelsea stalking past him and calls out to her, with a mouthful.
Kelvin Coolidge: Hey Chelsea!
Chelsea Pryce: Fuck off, pig.
Chelsea knew about Kelvin's presence. She just didn't care; not after what happened to her daughter. Observing the area, she realizes that Redmaine is nowhere in sight. She sighs, sits on the edge of an empty table and covers her face with her hands.
Chelsea Pryce: ...ugh, I don't feel well...
Kelvin swallows the bite and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. Hopping up on the end of the table, he continues eating his dog in front of her.
Kelvin Coolidge: So, I was thinking, when I win, I was gonna have you do my laundry first because lord knows I don't have any fresh pairs of drawers.
She pulls her hands away and offers him a deathglare.
Chelsea Pryce: If you don't know where Redmaine is, get the fuck away from me or else I'll break your fingers off and shove them up your ass.
Mother Nature's clearly unstable.
Kelvin Coolidge: I don't know if you've heard, but I'm into that sort of thing.
Kelvin finishes the dog and dusts his hands off, as he sits cross-legged on the table, spinning to face Chelsea.
Kelvin Coolidge: So, you gotta tell me what's with you and Kerry. I mean, you're not seriously considering going with him after he pimp-slapped you, right? Unless that gets me into your panties any quicker.
Chelsea Pryce: I'm not going with him OR you. Fuck the contract; I am my own master and I belong to no one.
She slides off the table, shakes her head and covers her face with her right hand. A weak chuckle later and suddenly her left hand snakes out and wraps itself around Kelvin's throat. Her grip is strong, not quite life threatening, but still tight enough to take some air away.
Chelsea Pryce: Get it in your head, Kelvin. I'm not yours; never have been, never will be.
With his free left hand, he grabs her wrist. Tearing her away from his throat, he forcefully wrenches it, twisting it downward. She lets out a surprised yelp. Kicking out his right foot, it catches her in the opposite shoulder, spinning her back towards him. Both of his legs lock around her waist as he wrenches her wrist behind her back, interlocking the same hand with her other one, effectively pinning her into his embrace. With his free right hand, he yanks back hard on her hair and whispers into her ear.
Kelvin Coolidge: The next time you feel the need to touch me, you had better be naked. Otherwise, I'll snap your fucking neck like a tree branch and call it self-defense. Do you understand me?
She didn't say anything, struggling to get out of the hold she is forced into. Part of her still isn't sure how she got into this position in the first place, but she's here now, unable to move, with the exception of breathing and slight wriggling. Gritting her teeth, she slowly hisses, a red hue color rising to her cheeks, perhaps in embarrassment, or is it something else?
Chelsea Pryce: ...I hate you...
Kelvin Coolidge: That's fine. I'm going to fuck you until you love me.
Releasing his grip, he pushes her away from himself as he hops off the table and lights a cigarette.
Kelvin Coolidge: Go back to finding your archenemy. You bore me.
She staggers away, but stays on her feet otherwise, turning to him with a sharp glare. That glare lasts for a few seconds before she turns away again, taking a step forward... only to twist around and strike a spinning back-kick into his gut, further agonizing with the black stiletto heel she wears, dropping him onto his knees!
Chelsea Pryce: Next time, I'll take your head off.
With another spin around, she leaves the area, with ongoing fans standing by in awe and fear. Kelvin's eyes go crosseyed as he drops to his knees, clutching his stomach, with no air finding its way to his lungs. The cigarette flies out of his mouth; and so does his dinner.
He gasps for oxygen as he struggles to stand up, shaking away people who try to help him. As far as Kelvin is concerned, she owes him five bucks and a new shirt.
Lex Robinson: Hi, folks, welcome back ringside, as this match marks the finality of the Purity Title Tournament.
Steve Hebert: Let's hope so because I have been bored for WEEKS.
Lex Robinson: This match will be fought under Purity Rules, meaning it will go for fifteen minutes, there are NO rope breaks; and at the end of it, a winner will be decided.
Steve Hebert: Good thing it's only fifteen minutes because I ate that new "Coolito" from Taco Bell; and man, do I have to push out an asshole baby the size of a Buick.
"Mad World" by Gary Jules comes on over the P.A. system as the arena fades to black. White strobes begin to flash in three second intervals as Redmaine steps outs from the backstage area. He pauses at the entrance and holds both arms in they air, as if he is a king praising his subjects. The crowd unleashes an assault of boos as Redmaine smiles and casually makes his way to the ring, as the crowd continues to boo heavily. The arena goes completely black just before Redmaine reaches the ring. All of a sudden, the lights kick back on and Redmaine stands in the middle of the ring, with his arms raised above him. He is here... it is time...
Lex Robinson: Redmaine coming off two huge losses seeks to find some redemption in this match.
Steve Hebert: He needs to find a personal trainer and a wrestling coach! Other than that, I support his war. He should blow your head off, next, Lex.
Lex Robinson: Uh, I'd hope not.
The arena’s lights suddenly go out. Chelsea Pryce’s voice resounds softly in accompaniment to the soft "we're at war" chants.
"Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me... yeah!"
To make matters literal with these lyrics, along both sides of the ramp purple pyros that portray towers rise up as she walks down the ramp. Even the spotlight begins to flash on and off to match the following lyrics.
"We are broken
What must we do to restore our innocence
And oh, the promise we adore?
Give us life again
'Cause we just want to be whole!"
All the lights turn back on by the word "whole". She jumps onto the apron and climbs through the ropes into the ring, removing her sunglasses and looking to the fans that continue to cheer her on. With a smile, she pulls her fingerless gloves down, punches her fist into her open palm and a burst of purple pyro from the ring posts shoot up. After the music fades slowly, she takes off her jacket and sets it aside with her sunglasses, soon ready to go.
Lex Robinson: Chelsea Pryce has had her recent share of trouble, as well, being fought over by Kelvin Coolidge and Kerry Windsor.
Steve Hebert: I can't be mad. They got good taste in milfs!
Ding... ding... ding!
Lex Robinson: The bell rings and Redmaine rushes in right away with a huge kick, nailing Chelsea in the stomach. She doubles over, looking to get her footing. Redmaine drops her again with a huge boot!
Steve Hebert: Haha, yeah! Beat that, slut!
Lex Robinson: Redmaine is kicking her into the corner, stomping mudholes into her gut. The referee is telling Redmaine to take it easy as those kicks hit her in the chest. Redmaine, obviously pissed off at the ref, turns to him, threatening—... wait... CHELSEA WITH A SPEAR! Good lord! From the corner and she's on top of Redmaine, now, wailing away!
Steve Hebert: I think I saw this in Fight Club!
Lex Robinson: Redmaine is in a world of misery, as Chelsea lets those hard hands of hers beat the stuffing out of Remaine's face, bashing his skull off the canvas! Getting to her feet, she even begins kicking and stomping at him!
Steve Hebert: YOU GO, GIRL! PUT A BULLET THROUGH THE HEAD OF EVERY PANDA!
Lex Robinson: Redmaine manages to throw her off, wiping the fresh blood from his face. He is not happy as he struggles to get up. Chelsea runs at him and he dodges out of the way AND DOWN GOES CHELSEA INTO THE CORNER TURNBUCKLE WITH A DROP-TOE-HOLD BY REDMAINE. Redmaine, obviously trying to buy some time, is trying to regain his composure, while Chelsea turns over, holding her face.
Steve Hebert: I hope this faggot doesn't do something stupid like run in after her.
Lex Robinson: Redmaine backs up and runs at Chelsea, BASEBALL SLIDE INTO THE CORNER—...
Steve Hebert: Hell no!
Chelsea uses the ropes to jump up. As a result, Redmaine crotches himself by sliding into the steel post, allowing Chelsea to second that with a legdrop to the back of his head!
Steve Hebert: That will ruin his weekend!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea's going in for the cover...
The count is made and the referee counts...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: Redmaine kicks out!
Steve Hebert: Hooray! Sadly, though, Chelsea lifts him up by the hair and Irish-Whips him into the ropes. Redmaine's on the return...
Chelsea ducks and Redmaine jumps over her, going to the opposite ropes. Redmaine rebounds again, Chelsea jumps up and Red goes under the legs; bounces off the ropes again, only to return at full-speed.
Lex Robinson: Wow! What a huge lariate from Redmaine! He goes for the cover, now!
The count is made...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: KICKOUT! Only a two! Redmaine looks pissed! Of course, I would be, too, if I lost to Chelsea Pryce and Coolidge, two weeks in a row!
Lex Robinson: Redmaine, using that hate and anger, begins choking Chelsea on the mat! She's kicking her legs and manages to kick Redmaine in the back of the head. Wait... she rolls him up!
...
Lex Robinson: No! Redmaine kicks out of the rolling schoolboy. Chelsea is over him and reaches for his legs. SHE SLAPS ON THE FIGURE FOUR AND DROPS TO THE MAT! REDMAINE IS IN TROUBLE! HE'S WRITHING AROUND AND REVERSES IT! REDMAINE WITH THE APPLIED PRESSURE! CHELSEA CLIMBS TO THE EDGE OF THE MAT AND FALLS OUT OF THE RING BREAKING THE HOLD!
Steve Hebert: Chelsea is walking like she spent the afternoon with Kelvin!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea on the outside now, exchanging words with Redmaine who's still in the ring. Chelsea dives back and Redmaine hits her with kicks, lifts her up for the Irish-Whip. Chelsea into the ropes on the return, ducks a clothesline, reaches behind her—NECKBREAKER! And both wrestlers are down!
Steve Hebert: Get up, RED! I've got 200 bucks on you to win, so don't let me down!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea drapes an arm over Redmaine...
The count is made by the referee...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: No! Redmaine with another kick out! He will not stop tonight! He may be evil, but he's got heart, that's for sure. Chelsea is up again and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, jumps off WITH A CORKSCREW ELBOW INTO REDMAINE'S CHEST! AND A CLOUD OF RED MIST EXPLODES FROM HIS MOUTH!
Steve Hebert: REDMAINE KICKS OUT AGAIN. KEEP HOPE ALIVE MY TERRORIST LOVING FAGGOT!
Lex Robinson: WHY ARE WE BOTH YELLING?!
CAPS LOCK: HELLO.
Lex Robinson: WHO THE HELL SAID THAT?!?!!?!?!?!!
Steve Hebert: Huh?
Lex Robinson: Chelsea doesn't look too happy with Redmaine, who is really doing everything in his power to wrestle the opposite of the kind of match you'd expect in the Purity Division.
Steve Hebert: Like it fucking matters, Lex. It's not like this is Superman vs. Muhammed Ali. It's just some pedostached Speed fan going up against a decent pair of tits.
Lex Robinson: That pair of tits is charging at Redmaine, who quickly ducks between the ropes. While that doesn't help things for him, as there are no rope breaks, Chelsea Pryce has had enough, and is now battering her opponent with another series of closed fists.
Steve Hebert: Our nonexistant panel of superdelegates won't like that one.
Chelsea floors Redmaine with a legdrop as he writhes and gets back to her feet. She quickly locks him into a figure-four leglock FOR THE SECOND TIME TONIGHT AND IT'S SINCHED IN NOW!
Steve Hebert: Wake me when 1968 is over.
Lex Robinson: Redmaine is writhing in pain on the mat, refusing to give up. Chelsea continues to apply pressure on the hold...
Stevie Hebert: Does Taco Bell do take out? I want another Coolito.
Lex Robinson: Redmaine leans forward, strikes Chelsea with a closed fist to the mouth, and escapes the hold!
Steve Hebert: That's exactly how Kerry Windsor would have done it!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea takes it to Redmaine, Irish-Whipping him—... it gets reversed! Redmaine whips Chelsea, but pulls her back into a modifed Cobra Clutch! WINGS OF TRUTH 2! WINGS OF TRUTH 2! AND CHELSEA CAN'T GET OUT!
Steve Hebert: That's right, Redmaine! SQUEEZE THE MILK RIGHT OUT OF THOSE PERFECT TITS!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea is struggling to hold on! She stumbles against the ropes, trying to find the release...
Steve Hebert: That doesn't count! There's no rope breaks!
Lex Robinson: This is the move that put her away a few weeks ago. Of course, in order to exact pain on her, he kept it locked on after the bell, resulting in a disqualification. If he keeps it locked in tonight, he wins the Purity Title! Can he do it?!
Running out of options, Chelsea bites Redmaine!
Steve Hebert: What the...? How did she get out of that?!
Lex Robinson: She bit him!
Steve Hebert: That's illegal, isn't it?!
Lex Robinson: It got the job done. Speaking of which, she is leaping onto him and brings him down with a body scissors! Koji Clutch! She has the Koji Clutch locked in!
After several seconds, Redmaine cannot take the pain and is forced to tap out, sending a huge wave of appraisal from the fans!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea Pryce has done it! She has become the new Purity Champion!
Steve Hebert: Ugh. But she's just a skank. A dirty, dirty skank. She had sex with Kerry Windsor and Kelvin Coolidge, for example.
Chelsea is awarded with the title and holds it high in the air. However, she is suddenly attacked from behind by Redmaine, who batters her in the back of the skull with some axehandles. Grabbing the Purity Title from her clutches, he sneers at her and exits the ring, getting jeers from the crowd.
Lex Robinson: Where's he going with that title?
Steve Hebert: I have no idea. I'm still appreciating that beatdown. It was a thing of beauty.
Getting to her knees, Chelsea tries figuring out what happened. She looks around... but there's no title. Rolling out of the ring, she is congratulated by several fans, but remains in a state of confusion, as she walks to the back.
Lex Robinson: Well folks, we just witnessed the crowning of Sin's new Purity Champion a little while ago. ...Even if Redmaine did take the title. No idea where he's going with it, though.
Steve Hebert: It's a waste of gold and a bigger waste of a division, Lex.
Lex Robinson: Oh yeah, you say that when Chelsea's not here. ...And she just pulled out a titanium baseball bat from under the ring.
Steve Hebert: Um, shit.
Lex Robinson: Time to be a little nicer to her, huh Steve?
Steve Hebert: If she hits me, I swear I'll sue.
Lex Robinson: Well, she's coming back here. Miss Pryce, what's the weapon for?
Pryce takes a moment to get herself comfortable on her chair and put her headset back on, placing the baseball bat down by her feet.
Chelsea Pryce: It's just a little reinforcement, Lex. I don't plan on attacking you or Steve.
Steve Hebert: [phew!] I mean... uh, damn right you better not!
Lex Robinson: Ah, well I'm glad to hear that. So we have the No Disqualification match between Kerry Windsor and Kelvin Coolidge coming up next.
Chelsea Pryce: Neither of which will lay their grubby hands on me, I assure you.
Steve Hebert: Pretty damn sure they beg to differ, but Kerry's the bigger faggot.
Chelsea Pryce: [shrugs] Alright, everyone knows the story. Kelvin's been a fucking asshole, Kerry's an incompetent bastard and I hate them both. Let's get this over with.
The guitars of "Take The Long Road And Walk It" by The Music hit the speakers as the entrance floods with fog.
She said she didn't know me...
Said I was sweet...
She said she didn't know me...
NOW I'M NOT SO SWEET, YEAH!
As soon as the bass line kicks in, a huge pyro goes off as Kelvin Coolidge walks out from the back in a plain black T-shirt, black sunglasses, and a pair of ripped denim jeans. Rolling into the ring, he smiles and points to a few people in the crowd, greeting some with grins and others with the middle finger. He leaps down and windmills his arms, readying himself for the match.
Chelsea Pryce: I hate him.
Lex Robinson: I'm sure a lot of people agree with you.
Steve Hebert: Still doesn't excuse you from dry humping him.
Chelsea Pryce: ...Are you a one-line thief now?
Steve Hebert: No. It's just funny.
Coolidge looks over at the commentary table and waggles his fingers at Pryce. She rolls her eyes but doesn't give him a sense of provocation otherwise. Coolidge's music fades, the lights go out and the guitar hums of "It's Goin' Down" by X-Ecutioners feat. Mike Shinoda plays. White lights flash as the opposite of the dark plumes of theatrical fog that emerge from the entrance stage; the fans are on their feet with cheerful anticipation.
watch them flee...
W-wa-watch them flee, hip-hop hits...
And you do it like this!
Bursts of white pyro that accompanies the loud guitar, drums and record scratching send themselves off in four different directions from the stage. A gold and silver "rain" of pyro pours down from the top of the entrance. The fans are ecstatic as Kerry Windsor steps through the rain and the fog with his arms raised at his sides and his head held high.
Steve Hebert: So the hobo has an entrance, now?
Lex Robinson: Well, it certainly matches his eccentric personality.
Kerry smiles and descends the ramp, tagging the hands of as many fans as possible; the women in particular are screaming with glee in his presence alone. He stops at the end of the ramp, closes his eyes and taps his foot to the music's beat. This allows the crowd the opportunity to snap his photo in a frenzy of cheers; all the while white pyros shoot up to every "It's going down" before the first verse. Then Kerry makes his move by circling the ring and interacting with the fans as much as possible.
The rhythmic projects around the next sound
Reflects the complex hybrid dialect now
Detect the mesh of many elements compressed down
The melting pot of a super-futureesque style
The combination of a vocal caress
With lungs that gasp for breath
From emotional stress
With special effects and a distorted collage
Carefully lodged between beats of rhythmic barrage
Right before the pre-chorus starts, Kerry finds himself back before the ramp, only this time he jumps onto the apron, springboards over the top rope and lands in the ring. In the middle of the ring, he pockets his dark shades, removes his jacket and tosses them to the side. Here he claps his hands to the beat of the music and gets the fans to follow for more positive feedback. Slowly the lights fade back on and Kerry beckons his opponent with a grin, the reception of the fans just barely starting to calm down. However, there are some who actually boo him, which he finds a bit surprising.
Lex Robinson: Some fans aren't too happy to see Kerry.
Chelsea Pryce Considering he attacked me on the last Eternity...
Steve Hebert: They should all boo him. He's an ugly fucking bag of douche. I still can't believe you had a one-night stand with him for SIX HOURS.
Chelsea Pryce: For crying out loud, it was three hours, at the very most four. ...And I regret every second of it.
Steve Hebert: Why? Catch AIDS?
Chelsea Pryce: No. Now commentate before I shove the bat up your ass.
Hebert does as he's told, or rather threatened. Meanwhile, the bell rings and Windsor and Coolidge break out into a brawl.
Lex Robinson: Oh shit. Here we go...
They start off with hard punches which are blocked in exchange, then they trade off the advantage with attempted grappling moves. Windsor goes for a suplex, but Coolidge elbows the side of his face, spins around and goes for a suplex of his own. Windsor blocks the attempt with a leg hook, turns around and looks for a belly-to-belly suplex which Coolidge denies with a thrice of headbutts.
Lex Robinson: Coolidge staggers back and strikes Windsor with a slap across the face.
Steve Hebert: Correction, PIMP slap. And there's another! Bitch him up, Kelvin!
Lex Robinson: Now there's a spinning backhand fist, but Windsor catches it and brings Coolidge right into an armdrag takedown.
Chelsea Pryce: Hm, some technical prowess there...
Steve Hebert: I wasn't expecting that. Needs more bloodletting.
Windsor waits for Coolidge to get back on his feet and nails him with a roundhouse kick to the face, knocking him down. Quickly, Windsor trails up the top of a turnbuckle, but Coolidge already begins to recover and he's on his feet. He charges for Windsor, but Windsor leaps and lands a mushroom stomp across his back, causing him to stagger right back into a German suplex with a bridge.
Lex Robinson: German suplex! The pinfall is being made...
Steve Hebert: Here we go...!
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: Speed win denied with a power out!
Lex Robinson: It was still a good pin attempt. Anyway, Windsor's on his feet and he hauls Coolidge up with him--...
Chelsea Pryce: Wow, he just bitch slapped Kelvin.
Steve Hebert: Coolidge better not take that sitting down!
Lex Robinson: Some of the fans approve. Coolidge takes a step back... and he kicks Windsor in the crotch!
Steve Hebert: Stupid faggot won't be having a family anytime soon! Thank heavens.
Coolidge easily bounces off the ropes while Windsor's tending to his jewels and puts him down with a running bulldog. He's quick on his feet and shoots up to the top of the nearest turnbuckle, landing a top-rope double knee drop right into Windsor's abdomen. Coolidge goes for the cover.
Lex Robinson: Two knees come crashing down on Kerry Windsor! Not only that, but Kelvin follows that with a pin.
Steve Hebert: It's over; I'm calling it!
...1...2...
Chelsea Pryce: Kickout right after two. Not good enough.
Steve Hebert: Kill him slowly, Coolidge!
Coolidge sneers, grabs hold of one of Windsor's arms, wraps his legs around his throat and that arm in somewhat of a figure four and squeezes; this tightly applies the triangle choke which needs no justification to its illegality as this is a no-DQ match.
Steve Hebert: Or choke him out! Even better!
Lex Robinson: The hold is applied. Kerry's face turns blue...
Steve Hebert: He's going to die. Hooray!
Windsor immediately struggles and uses the rest of his free body to drag himself and Coolidge towards the ropes...
Lex Robinson: Just a little closer, Kerry!
Steve Hebert: No! Kill him!
Lex Robinson: Coolidge clinches this hold tighter, yet Windsor's not willing to give up so easily!
A few more seconds and he's able to grab the bottom rope with his free hand!
Lex Robinson: He does it! Kerry Windsor reaches the ropes!
The referee starts a count regardless of the rules; Coolidge lets up anyway, gets on his feet and stomps Windsor out of the ring. He follows him out of the ring, but he doesn't attack him some more, not yet.
Lex Robinson: Looks like Coolidge is coming over here.
Steve Hebert: He wants to talk to his future "manager".
Chelsea Pryce: Please... [looks at Coolidge] What do you want?
Kelvin Coolidge: Go and make me a fucking sandwich.
Chelsea Pryce: Not gonna happen. Now fuck off.
Steve Hebert: Hey, faggot alert--...!
Coolidge barely dodges a chairshot from behind by Windsor!
Lex Robinson: Holy--...
Kelvin turns around and trips him up. He kicks the chair away from his grasp and stuffs his hands in his back pockets. Windsor is back on his feet, ignoring the chair and throwing a couple punches towards Coolidge's face. Although he nicks him across the left cheek with a knuckle, Coolidge pulls his hands out of his pockets--
Lex Robinson: Punch to the face! With brass knuckles!?
Steve Hebert: That's an instant knock out shot! I actually thought Kelvin was masturbating!
Chelsea Pryce: Devious son of a bitch... He's rolling Kerry back into the ring and mocking him all the while.
Lex Robinson: The cover is made...
Steve Hebert: This match is over!
...1...2...
...
Lex Robinson: No! Windsor somehow kicks out, right before the three!
Steve Hebert: What?! That was a three!
Lex Robinson: The referee says it's a two, so it's a two.
Coolidge shrugs this off, pockets the brass knuckles and rolls out of the ring to recover the steel chair. He gets back inside with the weapon Windsor procured earlier, stands before him and aims for the head. However, Windsor kicks upwards and the chair hits the flat end of his Chuck Taylor shoe; he then rolls out of the way of a second shot, kicks the back of Coolidge's knees, gets up and jabs his arms to disarm him.
Steve Hebert: Oh God no! This is horrible! Horriawful! Awfulbad!
Lex Robinson: Kerry Windsor's going all-out! Right before Coolidge can react, Windsor snakes his arms around his throat and falls back; right into a rear naked choke! The fans throw a mixture of cheers and boos, though they do offer chants for both men in some respect. The referee checks to see if Coolidge is going to surrender...
Steve Hebert: No way. He'll never quit.
Lex Robinson: "The Absolute Zero" starts to drag towards the ropes with the added weight on him. Much like Windsor was able to do earlier in the match, Coolidge grabs the bottom rope in hopes that he'll drop it.
Steve Hebert: Release the damn hold, retard.
The referee begins his count again Kerry...
...1...2...3...4...
Lex Robinson: Finally, he lets go; just before the referee counts to 5.
Steve Hebert: That prick! That's seconds worth of more pain, even moreso when he grabs the chair and faces Coolidge. Oh Jesus.
Lex Robinson: A sharp kick to the side turns Coolidge over, unable to block the abdomen shot with the chair in time. Windsor follows this with a stomp to Coolidge's neck, then a chairshot to the top of his head!
Tossing the chair aside, he gets down and hooks Coolidge's leg...
...1...2...
Steve Hebert: No!
Lex Robinson: Coolidge gets the shoulder up before the three!
Steve Hebert: Phew, that was close!
Lex Robinson: Windsor's being a lot more violent than he usually is... and he's coming this way.
Chelsea Pryce: You'd think he wouldn't let himself be distracted...
Pryce reaches under the commentating table right before Windsor stops before them, still armed with the chair. She pulls up the baseball bat, stands up and the two of them lock eye contact with each other. Most of the crowd explodes with cheers and the rest boo; they anticipate a fight to break out between the two of them, but Windsor's smarter than that.
Lex Robinson: Please, Chelsea, let's not do anything rash.
Steve Hebert: Speaking of rashes...
Lex Robinson: Shhh.
He backs away, though not before pointing the chair in her direction as a warning. She smirks and sits back down. That's when Windsor blocks an incoming chairshot from behind with his own chair and faces Coolidge once more, who's still somewhat breathing heavily. Coolidge grins, as does Windsor, and the two engage in a chair duel!
Steve Hebert: It's like a sword fight... but with chairs!
Lex Robinson: Those chairs clang off each other, repelling one shot after another, and they do this while circling around the ring once! Windsor has the strength advantage as his swings have a little more force in them, yet this doesn't discourage Coolidge. Once around the ring, Coolidge feigns a swing, which naturally causes Windsor to swing down and Coolidge avoids it, then he stomps on the chair to disarm him.
Steve Hebert: What a moron!
Lex Robinson: Chair shot to Windsor's right knee and he collapses in agony!
Steve Hebert: [laughs] Great job, Coolidge! Now pin him!
Chelsea Pryce: Well, he's getting him back in the ring and this is gonna be over.
Lex Robinson: There's the cover...
The referee makes the count...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: One... two... and...
Steve Hebert: He got his shoulder up?! Fuck no!
Chelsea Pryce: So he's still gonna fight with that injury...?
Lex Robinson: Coolidge is in a bit of shock, but... oh man, that's a smile you do NOT want to see on the face of someone whose about to hurt you some more. Coolidge starts to apply a hold; it's a one-legged boston crab.
Chelsea Pryce: It's actually a smart move; the submission hold further exploits Windsor's injured right knee. If he tries hard enough, he could tear the ligaments in two and end his career.
Steve Hebert: Do it, Coolidge! Destroy that fucking pedo!
Chelsea Pryce: Ugh, don't say that again...
Lex Robinson: Windsor's stuck in no-man's land, but wait. He's actually trying to get himself to the ropes. He's not willing to give up here.
Chelsea Pryce: Even if he does reach the ropes, Kelvin could decide to just hang on forever. That would be pretty funny.
Lex Robinson: You're pretty sick.
Chelsea Pryce: Not as much as Steve.
Lex Robinson: Touché.
Steve Hebert: I'm right here, idiots.
An aggravating minute passes by and Windsor still refuses to tap out. After so much suffering, he does manage to get to the ropes and grab the bottom one. Coolidge holds on for four seconds, then he lets him go and stands up, only to kick that injured knee a couple times. Some of the fans cringe for Windsor as he clutches his right knee, hissing in pain, and Coolidge forces him onto his feet. He ensnares him in a headlock, drags him to the center of the ring and drives him down with a follow-up neckbreaker! Coolidge goes for the cover.
Steve Hebert: Yes! A neckbreaker and then a cover!
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: Windsor gets the shoulder up before the three!
Steve Hebert: No fucking way!
Chelsea Pryce: Hmph... what are you doing...?
Steve Hebert: You say somethin'?
Chelsea Pryce: Just forget it.
Coolidge starts to drag Windsor by his arms towards the nearest turnbuckle and props him to sit up against the bottom one. He crouches down, heckles him and pimp slaps him across the face, receiving a small chorus of boos, in the process.
Steve Hebert: These fans have no respect. No respect, whatsoever.
Lex Robinson: Sadly, there's more to come. This isn't looking good for Kerry Windsor...
Coolidge stands up straight, brushes at his jeans and plays to the crowd for just a moment, really getting some space between himself and Windsor. He runs for it, goes for the bronco buster--...
Lex Robinson: No! Kerry Windsor moves out of the way!
Steve Hebert: No! Kelvin's poor testicles! Poor Kelvin... poor Chelsea. This is awful for her, too, you know!
Lex Robinson: I think she disagrees, Steve.
Steve Hebert: She needs to go give them a rub. Maybe even a tiny kiss.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidge winces just a bit before he falls back onto the mat, while Windsor tries to recoverm outside of the ring, tending to his right knee. The referee checks on Coolidge real quick, then he starts a count against Windsor, who's slowly getting up, using the ropes as leverage.
Steve Hebert: If we're lucky, he'll clutch his chest and drop dead from a heart attack.
Lex Robinson: He manages to roll back inside the ring at six, a hand on his right knee, yet Coolidge has recovered just before him. Uh oh... Coolidge brings Windsor to his feet, smashes his forearm against his face and Irish whips him to the ropes. A clothesline misses and he turns around, only to get caught in a spinning spinebuster by Windsor, out of nowhere! No one's sure exactly where Windsor got that extra energy from, but he can't quite capitalize with a pin as the pain of his injury is still irritating him to hell!
Steve Hebert: Good! Thank God!
Kerry forces himself to stand, grabs the steel chair that was discarded nearby and drives it down on Coolidge's face before he can react. Most of the audience members are on Windsor's side, but the rest are most certainly not, as he lays the chair over Coolidge's face and begins to climb the nearest turnbuckle.
Steve Hebert: What's he doing?
Lex Robinson: Windsor's forcing himself to balance on the top rope-- 450 splash right on top of the steel chair over Coolidge's face!
Chelsea Pryce: Wow, really...? That's brutal. Just listen to Kelvin's screams.
Steve Hebert: I think he might have broken Coolidge's nose!
Lex Robinson: I think the move injured Windsor just as much as it did Coolidge. He's just barely going for a cover now.
The referee counts...
...1...
Chelsea Pryce: Is it over...?
...2...
Steve Hebert: Not like this, Coolidge!
...
Lex Robinson: No! He got the shoulder up!
Steve Hebert: Holy mother of FUCK.
Chelsea Pryce: Christ...
Windsor and Coolidge are both pretty exhausted. The referee checks on them and removes the steel chair from atop Coolidge's face; his nose is a bloody mess. A count begins and the two men don't even stir until the three. At four, they start to drag themselves up against the opposite sides of the ringm using the ropes, just barely getting onto their feet at eight.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin's face -- or his nose, to be more exact, is a bloody mess.
Steve Hebert: Such a pretty face, too.
Lex Robinson: ...What?
Steve Hebert: You know... for a dude.
Lex Robinosn: Ah.
Coolidge snorts a bit of blood out from his nostrils, turns around and doubles over from a kick to the midsection by Windsor's left foot. Garnering strength from nowhere, Windsor gets under Coolidge's legs and slowly lifts him up into an electric chair position. His footing is a bit wobbly due to his injured knee and he can't immediately chain this with another move. That's when Coolidge throws closed fists to Windsor's face just enough to drop down-- with an unexpected stunner.
Steve Hebert: Stunner! Kelvin is able to escape and hit the stunner on that useless douche!
Lex Robinson: But he's not going for a cover!
Showing arrogance, Kelvin gets up a second or two after hitting the stunner and waits for Windsor to get up, as well. Some of the fans are trying to warn Windsor not to; their warnings fall on deaf ears as Windsor just manages to stand...
Lex Robinson: Is it--...?
Steve Hebert: Yes! The Hangover! This one's finally over!
Lex Robinson: Cover, hook of the leg...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: One... two...!
...
Lex Robinson: NO!
Steve Hebert: NO?! WHAT?!
Chelsea Pryce: Didn't you notice? Kerry put his arms in front of his face a split second before Kelvin struck him with the finisher.
Steve Hebert: Unacceptable! That faggot Windsor should be out cold!
Lex Robinson: Coolidge can't quite believe it either. He's even making his way back to us--...
Kelvin Coolidge: That was a three, right?
Chelsea Pryce: No, that was a two point nine-repeat.
Kelvin Coolidge: Fuck that; we're getting out of here.
Chelsea Pryce: ...Let my arm go right now.
Kelvin Coolidge: Or what?
Pryce stands up with the baseball bat in hand and she actually swings for Coolidge's head. Fortunately for him, he sees it coming, avoids it and flips her off for the troubles. Unfortunately for him, the time elapsed was more than enough for Windsor to recover and strangle Coolidge from behind with a rope of barbed wire.
Steve Hebert: What the hell!
Lex Robinson: It's violent, but perfectly legal!
Pryce doesn't say anything; she just smirks as Windsor drags Coolidge back towards the ring with the barbed wire in tow. After a couple seconds, he lets Coolidge drop to the floor and begins to wrap the bloody thing around his right fist, ignorant of the barbs digging into his flesh.
Steve Hebert: This is just getting sick, now.
Lex Robinson: Windsor leans over, hoists Coolidge up while he's trying to breathe and rolls him into the ring to break the referee's count. However, Coolidge sneaks his brass knuckles back on just before Windsor gets back in the ring and takes a good shot at his right knee! Ouch!
Windsor collapses with a howl of pain, but surprisingly he retaliates with a few closed-fist shots to Coolidge's forehead and nose, exploiting his injuries some more.
Lex Robinson: It's come to a point where they probably want to kill each other more than win the match.
Steve Hebert: If Windsor dies, we all win.
Kerry Windsor takes the time to roll back out of the ring, pulls out a couple tables from under it and one inside. He sets up the other table on the outside, then he gets back inside the ring, sets the table up in the middle of the ring and slowly brings Coolidge to lie on top of it.
Steve Hebert: This can't be good...
Lex Robinson: Windsor's gonna put Coolidge away. He's climbing to the top of the turnbuckle for the Graceful Apocalyse!
Windsor goes for his aerial finisher...!
...
Chelsea Pryce: Nobody home, bitch!
Lex Robinson: Coolidge BARELY rolled out of the way at the last second and Windsor crashes through the table, alone!
Steve Hebert: Oh, thank god! I thought Coolidge was a goner!
Chelsea Pryce: But Kelvin can't go for the immediate cover. He's still dazed from those barbed wired fist shots!
The referee's a bit shocked, but he starts a count anyway. Windsor and Coolidge are almost completely worn out. They barely start to react until the four, then Coolidge forces himself to crawl and throw himself over Windsor for the pin.
Lex Robinson: There's another cover made...!
...1...
Lex Robinson: One...!
...2...
Lex Robinson: Two...!
...
Lex Robinson: NO!
Steve Hebert: No?!
...
Lex Robinson: Windsor got his shoulder up!
Steve Hebert: When?!
Lex Robinson: Right before the three!
Steve Hebert: Bullshit, Lex! BULLSHIT!
Chelsea Pryce: Tch, I could've sworn Kerry was out cold...
Everyone in attendance swears the same thing as Pryce. Coolidge lands a punch square across Windsor's face before he rolls to the side and takes a couple seconds to breathe. He argues with the referee, who once again repeats that it was only a two, and tiredly sighs. He gets up as the referee clears the wreckage for some room and stalks Windsor like a predator does its prey. Windsor is barely on his feet at the six count and Coolidge runs for the Hangover-- only Windsor dodges it and rebounds against the ropes. Coolidge ducks a clothesline, Windsor avoids a forearm smash, then he leaps off his feet, just as Coolidge bounces off the ropes--...
Lex Robinson: The Check Casher!
Steve Hebert: How?! This is absolutely unacceptable!
Chelsea Pryce: Here's the pin attempt...!
...1...
Steve Hebert: Say it isn't so, Coolidge!
...2...
Lex Robinson: It has to be so.
...
Steve Hebert: YES! DENIED!
Lex Robinson: I can't believe Coolidge got the shoulder up!
Chelsea Pryce: Ludicrous... fucking ludicrous...
Steve Hebert: Not the shitty rapper and actor!
Windsor shakes his head in shock. He looks at Coolidge, who semi-consciously leers back at him, and shakes his head again. Gingerly, Windsor stands up and drags Coolidge with him to the nearest turnbuckle. With both men on the top, Windsor actually aims for the table on the outside of the ring and tries to hoist him up...
Lex Robinson: Hey, that's your finisher, Chelsea.
Chelsea Pryce: Oh, fuck no, he better not...
Steve Hebert: Hah! Low blow from Coolidge!
Lex Robinson: He denies Windsor a Mother's Wrath and... what is he doing?
Steve Hebert: Quick change for Thirty Degrees Celsius!
Chelsea Pryce: Right through the fucking table. Jesus.
And they do go right through the table. The fans are going wild while the referee steps out and checks on both competitors. Coolidge is barely moving and Windsor may only be breathing. Forcing himself into an adrenaline spike, Coolidge gets himself up with Windsor in tow, rolls him back into the ring and follows suit.
Lex Robinson: Windsor still isn't moving.
Steve Hebert: Cover! COME ON!
Chelsea Pryce: ...
As Kelvin covers Kerry, the referee makes the count...
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: Will he...?
...
...3!
Steve Hebert: YES! Coolidge wins!
Lex Robinson: He's won Chelsea's managerial services-- wait, what is she doing?
Steve Hebert: That MILF is in the ring and she's stalking both men!
Lex Robinson: She has the titanium baseball bat in hand...
Pryce just waits for Coolidge and Windsor to get up. Coolidge is first and he's struck across the abdomen with the bat, forcing him to double over, in pain.
Steve Hebert: What the--? Get back here! She can't do that... can she?
Lex Robinson: Well, she is! What the hell?!
The referee tries to stop Pryce, but she threatens to hit him and he has no choice but to back off. Just when it seems like she's going to strike Coolidge again, she turns around and drives the bat on Windsor's right knee, listening to his screams of pain as he drops down and clutches his severe injury!
Lex Robinson: What?! No!
Steve Hebert: Haha! Now that's a-okay with me. One crippled douche is better than no crippled douche.
Lex Robinson: How is he supposed to fight in the main event, like this?!
In the audience, Rosalyn Pryce darts to the front row and yells at her mother to stop. Chelsea looks at Rosalyn for a moment and a sick leer crosses her face that seems out of the ordinary to the teenage girl.
Steve Hebert: Give that daughter a punch. She's been a bad, bad girl. Think she has hair down there?
Lex Robinson: Oh my God, stop.
Steve Hebert: Chelsea Pryce is one crazy slut.
Lex Robinson: ...Back to what you just said...
When she focuses on Coolidge, however, she finds him out of the ring and retrieving something from under it. It's a bicycle. Really. Pryce raises an eyebrow and gets out through the ropes, but at this point Coolidge is high on adrenaline, pedaling up the ramp as fast as he can go as a bloody mess.
Steve Hebert: Faster, Kelvin, faster!
Chelsea Pryce sneers and stalks after Coolidge, leaving the referee and a couple EMT's to check on Windsor in the ring. Rosalyn frowns and watches them get Windsor out of the ring as carefully as possible; "It's Goin' Down" by the X-Ecutioners feat. Mike Shinoda plays and most of the fans cheer him on.
A camera turns and catches Rosalyn and Justin Pryce roaming the halls backstage. He's not leaving her side this time, making sure to act as her bodyguard in case Redmaine or anyone with a similar, twisted demeanor approach them. He glances around, new to being behind the curtains of Sin, and swallows a bit.
Justin Pryce: The Ultraviolence Title match is about to start in a few minutes. Maybe we should get back to our seats...
Rosalyn Pryce: Not until I see Kerry. I have to make sure he's alright.
Justin Pryce: You are aware that he's on your mother's bad side, right?
Rosalyn Pryce: There was a time where dad was on her bad side, but that didn't stop me from checking on him.
The young girl frowns. She had seen what happened in the match between Kerry and Kelvin. She saw her mother pull out that titanium baseball bat from under the ring, use it to strike the back of Kerry's injured knee and nearly take Kelvin's head off with it before he escaped. Thinking about it causes her to shake her head, then she pauses before one of the medical bays. Justin stops behind her and glances around as she calls out.
Rosalyn Pryce: Excuse me, is Kerry Windsor here?
One of the nurses steps out of a medical ward, tilts her head and makes her way over to Rosalyn.
Nurse: Ah, yes, he is here. I'm afraid he doesn't want any visitors.
Rosalyn Pryce: But I have to see him. My mom's responsible for the severity of his injury...
Kerry Windsor, who is in the medical bay, hears the exchange that is going on between the nurse and the familiar voice of a young girl. Wincing in pain, he adjusts his body so that he can face towards the entrance.
Kerry Windsor: It's alright, you can let her through.
The nurse turns around upon hearing Kerry's voice and nods her head in acknowledgment of his words. She turns back to Rosalyn and sidesteps out of the teenagers's way, allowing her entry. Rosalyn slowly walks into Kerry's medical ward and gasps when she sees Kerry there all beaten and battered. Justin is quick but calm to follow his niece inside. He is respectful enough to stand back as Rosalyn places a hand on her chest and frowns. She feels unsure, like she's not worthy of being in the former champion's presence.
Rosalyn Pryce: Kerry... I'm so sorry... h-how are you feeling?
It is quite possibly the worst question to ask. He doesn't look too good, but she has to make sure.
Kerry Windsor: Well, I've seen better days I tell you that. But I guess I could be worst, right? He tries to force a smile onto his face to try and comfort her. He's trying, but he's not quite successful. The frown is frozen upon her face and she lowers her head in shame.
Rosalyn Pryce: ...I should have known... the kindness, the "honesty", my dress... it wasn't like mom at all.
The young lady looks back at her uncle with sharp eyes.
Rosalyn Pryce: Did you know?
Justin looks at his niece and shakes his head.
Justin Pryce: I... wait, what? Know what?
His confusion seems sincere. Rosalyn bites down on her lower lip, looks back at Kerry and sighs. There seems to be something about her mother's odd behavior that only she knows.
Rosalyn Pryce: ...She hasn't been well and it's not all because of her. It's also her own fault. She gave in, didn't she? Why didn't I see this coming? So stupid!
She slams her closed left fist against her own left thigh. Kerry looks at Rosalyn in confusion, not understanding her rambling.
Kerry Windsor: Rosalyn, what in the world are you talking about?
Justin Pryce: I'd like to know that, as well.
Rosalyn looks at the both of them before she shakes her head.
Rosalyn Pryce: When mom was abducted a little over a year ago, something happened to her. I'm not sure what it was, but it brought out a side of her that was almost... inhuman. She was fiery, vindictive and merciless. She did whatever she wanted at the expense of others, even her own family. After I was kidnapped, however, that side of her seemed to disappear. Or so we thought... now it seems like it's returned from the grave. They call "her" Mother Superior and I think she's come back. For what reasons, I don't know, but none of them can be good.
Justin contemplates all the information she's given and actually loses himself in his thoughts. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his orchid suit jacket, looks to the side and frowns. Kerry studies the girl's helpless expression and tries to understand the things that she's just revealed to him. Then he shakes his head at her.
Kerry Windsor: Rosalyn, you don't have to lie for your mother. You don't have to try and explain her actions either. "Mother Superior", "Mother Nature", it doesn't matter. They're all Chelsea Pryce. I see no parts, only a whole. Your mother knew all along that she was going to cross me. Your mother just wasn't the person she made herself out to be. I really cared for your mother Ros, and she stabbed me in the back. She never cared for me at all. Point blank, and there's no excuse for that. Not one good enough for me to care anymore at least.
He lowers his head and breaks eye contact with her. He's in serious pain and that pain he feels is not of the flesh.
Kerry Windsor: You stay sweet, Ros. Don't lose your innocence. I know your mother won't allow you to speak to me anymore, not after all that has transpired here tonight, and I guess that's just the way things are gonna be. But no matter what, you'll always be my ace. I'll never hold the actions of your mother against you.
He just doesn't get it. In fact, no one does. The audience, the co-workers, the family-- none of them get what's going on except for Rosalyn. She doesn't know how to explain it; she needs more evidence. The only thing she does at this point is approach Kerry, slightly climb onto the bed and wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace. The earlier run-in with Redmaine still has her spooked and she shivers a little, but otherwise she finds comfort with him, allowing a tear to fall.
Rosalyn Pryce: ...It's not over, okay? It's not... please...
Justin looks over at them and allows a weak smile to cross his face. He stays quiet to dodge any interruptions. Kerry gives a weak smile as well at the showing of the little girl's compassion. He knows that what he and Chelsea had is done, another chapter of his life closed off with a bitter sweet ending. He wraps his arms around her in a comforting hug.
Kerry Windsor: Listen, Ros, I'll always be your friend, okay? If there's ever a time when you're in need of my help, I'll be there. Alright?
He separates their embrace and looks at her. The look of complete helplessness on her face breaks his heart. She even offers him a sad little smile that can shatter broken hearts into pieces. She may be the only one that knows what's really going on with her mother and she refuses to give up on her. It feels like a mirror event of her father's; her mother is pitted against the world, but she'll be with her. Another tear falls, then another as she allows herself to cry against his chest.
Meanwhile, Justin sheds a tear of his own, but he only allows one to fall before he shakes his head and bites down on his lower lip.
Justin Pryce: Rosie, we should let Kerry rest and get back to our seats before security finds us.
The young teenager doesn't respond just yet, still keeping her head against Kerry's chest. She doesn't want to leave him, not anymore.
Kerry Windsor: Go ahead, Rosalyn, I'll be alright. And besides, I've got to get ready for the main event ... okay?
Kerry offers her a faint smile, hoping that she'll understand and go with her uncle. She looks up at her friend, but she can't bring herself to smile, not even a little. However, she does nod reluctantly, moves a little upward and kisses the top of his head.
Rosalyn Pryce: ...I'm so sorry.
It's the only thing she can say before she gets off the bed and stands on her own. Justin looks at Kerry and offers an apologetic nod, knowing his younger sister's done wrong to him, and then he makes his way out of the medical bay. Rosalyn is quick to follow him, the tears unable to stop. Kerry watches them as they leave and shakes his head at the whole situation.
Kerry Windsor: It's not your fault, Rosie. It's not.
He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, as the scene cuts away.
Corey Page: All right, get in here, you guys.
Teresa and Los Lonely Boy face off, with Corey Page holding up the buckets, keeping them away from each other.
Corey Page: First thing's first... the glass. Dip your hands in this white glue...
Holding the bucket closer to each of them, Corey gestures for them to dip their hands inside. Los Lonely Boy goes first, followed by Teresa Quaranta, who takes her time.
Corey Page: Haha, just kidding. That's not glue; that's my 5-week old jizz.
A sickened look comes across Teresa's face, as she looks hard at Corey Page, who sheepishly grins.
Corey Page: What? It was a joke!
Shrugging his shoulders, he watches as Teresa, with the Ultraviolence Title slung over her right shoulder, removes her hand. Los Lonely Boy removes his, as well, allowing for Corey to place the buckets down and lift up a tub of broken glass, instead.
Corey Page: Now dip your hands in this.
At first, Teresa resists, deciding to let Los Lonely Boy go first. With reluctance and pain on his face, he reaches inside and dumps both hands into the glass shards.
Los Lonely Boy: Los ouchos.
Corey Page: Uhm... oui.
Los Lonely Boy removes his hands, having glass stuck to his knuckles and fists. He allows for Teresa to take her turn.
Corey Page: Now, you.
The tub of broken glass is shifted towards Teresa, who takes several seconds to think.
Corey Page: C'mon. We haven't got all night.
She gingerly places her hand in the tub, sticking glass shards to her fist, much to her dismay.
Teresa Quaranta: Let's get this shit started. I just want to kick this Mexican retard in the teeth, already.
Teresa goes to walk off. Before she does, though, Corey places the tub down and holds up the chain which will be used to connect her to Los Lonely Boy.
Corey Page: Don't forget your chain!
She pays Corey no attention and just continues towards the entrance. On the other hand, Corey Page turns to face Los Lonely Boy and gives him a pat on the back.
Corey Page: Don't look so sad, pal. Go out there and give her a vicious cunt kicking.
Los Lonely Boy shrugs, not wanting to hurt Teresa, or so it seems. With that, Corey takes his buckets and leaves the side of Ace Rodgers, who is left standing alongside Los Lonely Boy.
Ace Rodgers: So, uh, good luck. Ole?
Showing no emotion, Los Lonely Boy also walks off. Ace Rodgers is confused and alone. Fade out.
Ace Rodgers: And uh... now, we would like everyone in attendance here in Santa Fe, New Mexico to rise for the singing of the National Anthem.
Gradually, the New Mexicans are motivated by national pride to stop yelling and stand respectfully for the anthem. After about fifteen seconds, everyone is standing, hands over their heart. Once the place is quiet, Teresa gives a curt nod, and the players raise their various instruments and begin:
O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
The crowd erupts into harsh booing. Half of the crowd sits down immediately, and half of the crowd starts throwing stuff and jeering violently. Teresa, herself, is a picture of composure, and her head's bowed down, as if the place is completely silent anyway. This continues all the way through the first verse, and finally, the music stops. Teresa slowly raises her head, carrying a big, smarmy grin.
Teresa Quaranta: Look at yourselves.
She bends over and picks up one of the styrofoam cups that's landed in the ring and holds it up with rising disdain.
Teresa Quaranta: This is your first experience with culture higher than a chili cookoff, and this is how you respond? Tossing the artifacts of your own decadence at me? How droll. Even though I knew that teaching you redneck Americans how to appreciate anything outside of their own squalid existence was like teaching a cat to bark, I didn't spare any expense. If you'll look over to the ramp, you'll see selected members of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra...
They are, of course, mercilessly booed.
Teresa Quaranta: Further up and on my opposite side, you'll see authentic Cambodian agarwood. It expels negative energy; and is said to produce the finest natural scent in the world. It takes hundreds of years to be produced and the trees it grows from are severely endangered. Scattered across the arena, you'll find my favorite works of art in both natural and digital media. You may notice an original Giclee print from one of the former members of the Sin Wrestling roster. Do try not to breathe on them, unlike the Bible those babies have re-sale value... and of course over there you'll see a selection of delicious complementary cheeses.
Teresa shakes her head and sighs as the intensity of the crowd only grows larger.
Teresa Quaranta: I almost thought that you people would enjoy this kind of display. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote that "Almost everything that we call 'higher culture' is based upon the spiritualizing and intensifying of cruelty."
The crowd expresses their discontent with this speech, throwing more wrappers, booing, and starting a loud "WE WANT WRESTLING" chant.
Teresa Quaranta: You philistines! Those cheeses are no longer complementary!
As the crowd gets rowdier, Ace Rodgers steps forward.
Teresa Quaranta: You want to know why this ring isn't set up for a fight? Because tonight is not just any other night. Tonight is a special night, tonight is an important night, tonight marks the night I become not only the greatest Ultraviolence champion of all time, but the greatest Sin Trophy winner of all time...
Teresa Quaranta: And I'll be honest, my mind is on celebrating my inevitable World Title win, not drawing blood from enhancement talent too stupid to understand its significance, in front of a crowd that...well, let's face it, Santa Fe is the Los Lonely Boy of American cities. And for it to host an event with so much potential meaning is like Los Lonely Boy getting a match for my title! So, much of this roster is getting an off-night! Jake Norton gets to plow through a couple of never willbes, Chelsea Pryce gets to fight a chubby mad bomber with no ground game in a technical rules match; the list goes on... and I am certainly entitled to any advantage that these lesser talents luck themselves into. So, Los Lonely Boy, you don't deserve to walk out of Santa Fe with your flesh unscarred and your dignity intact, just like these people here don't deserve to watch me. You don't deserve my mercy. Tonight, you have it. But my mercy is not infinite, Los Lonely Boy, and you have one chance, ONE chance, to take advantage of it-...
There's a loud bang of pyro and Los Lonely Boy appears at the foot of the ramp, his hands glued with glass, running through the smoke, jumping wildly as "Rhythm Divine" by Enrique Iglesias playing on the speakers. Despite threatening to rape every female on the roster and then skip out on the child support, he is cheered as a conquering hero because... Sin Wrestling. After slapping a few hands on his way to the ring -- and being careful not to cut anybody with the glass, he slides under the bottom rope and dramatically folds his arms together.
Teresa Quaranta: Your music hit, you slapped a few hands and make a few exaggerated bodily motions. That's all great. Because now... you're going to get down on both knees and roll over onto your back like the dog that you are...
The crowd erupts into booing as the referee produces the chain, locking them together in preparation for the fight, while a couple other staffers hurriedly clear the ring.
Teresa Quaranta: Because the biology of your brain is going to take over. You're going to realize that you're in a fight-or-flight situation; and fight is not an option against an overwhelming force like myself. And it's the closest a disgusting rapist in training like you are ever going to get to touching me. Three seconds and a little pressure on your chest, and then you can go put on a KFC shirt and a mask with big lips and join Stevie Swing's touring menagerie of one joke footnotes.
She gets extra close to Lonely Boy, talking into his mouth like his mask was a low quality drive-thru speaker.
Teresa Quaranta: Do you understand? Do you speak English? I know you do.
Lex Robinson: She really needs to stop running her yap.
There's a long pause... and then the bell rings. Los Lonely Boy looks around at the crowd, and his body language screams that he isn't sure what he should do. Teresa makes her suggestion very loudly.
Teresa Quaranta: KNEEL.
Lex Robinson: Well, this is a goddamn crazy way to start a title match!
Steve Hebert: Teresa's desperate to get some kind of advantage going into the Sin Trophy match; but does she really think Los Lonely Boy is going to give up a title match just to indirectly touch Teresa's shoe for 3 seconds?
Lex Robinson: He very well might. Los Lonely Boy looks around... takes a deep breath...and swings the glass fist connects RIGHT with the champion's jaw!
Steve Hebert: What the Spic?!
Lex Robinson: This crowd is getting loud because we are officially underway!
Teresa's enraged that Los Lonely Boy would attack her at all, let alone make the first move, so she stomps back and forth, throwing a temper tantrum on the ground before getting up and getting in Los Lonely Boy's face.
Lex Robinson: Los Lonely Boy winds up and swings even harder this time, knocking her squarely in the forehead! Teresa tries to scramble away, but Los Lonely Boy pulls her up and swings a third time. He slings her into the corner, going to town with a series of rights and lefts that seem to move at lightning speed, the crowd getting louder with each shot!
Steve Hebert: What the--? We've never seen him be so aggressive before! Has he been shooting up Horatio's HGH?
Teresa slumps to the canvas, quickly and instantly brutalized by the assault.
Steve Hebert: This is insane. Get out of there, TQ!Lex Robinson: She can only slide out to the floor, but not too far away, as she is kept in place by the chain.
Steve Hebert: Son of a bitch.
As Teresa struggles on the floor, Los Lonely Boy puts his hands on his hips and nods at the crowd, giving a big thumbs up. He he puts his thumbs under his mask, slowly pulling back...
Steve Hebert: Holy resurrected Jesus Christ! IT'S TRAVIS MILLER!
Lex Robinson: It's Travis Miller! All this time, Los Lonely Boy has really been Travis Miller!
Steve Hebert: T-Mill? More like T-Fag.
Lex Robinson: He pulled the wool over Teresa's eyes.
Steve Hebert: But he's supposed to be out of here. Gone. As in... left SW. As in... uh... gone!
Teresa is flown into a full panic at the idea that the man she retired at Wonderland could be alive and in this very ring. She yells out to the referee, telling him to stop the match, but Miller follows up by tugging on the chain, yanking her back into the ring!
Steve Hebert: Oh no!
Lex Robinson: Travis Miller with a series of boots to the chest, while Teresa cowers against the turnbuckles. Finally, he pulls her up and waves the glass fists in the air again...
Steve Hebert: Double oh no!
Lex Robinson: Santa Fe wants glass, and he's making sure to give it to them! He throws a haymaker--...
Steve Hebert: They can go eat glass.
Lex Robinson: ...--and Teresa displays just enough presence of mind to duck another blow, but Miller quickly follows up with an uppercut to the jaw that turns her limbs to jelly! There's a right cross and Teresa is sprawled on the canvas! The match hasn't been long, but she's already wearing a crimson mask!
Steve Hebert: This is awful. Get up, TQ. Help yourself.
Lex Robinson: Miller isn't done yet!
He slowly walks her up to the top turnbuckle and gets up there himself before hitting her again in the throat, knocking her all the way down to the canvas below. Miller holds his hands up for what might be the deadliest fistdrop in wrestling history! He jumps--...
Lex Robinson: Travis goes for a fistdrop...
Steve Hebert: But Teresa tags him with a punch right between the legs! Glass to the cock for the save! Best move, ever? I think so.
Miller screams in sudden agony, holding his junk, as Teresa staggers to her feet and hits a roundhouse kick! Blood goes flying everywhere as she turns, and she gets tangles in the chain, knocking them both down. Teresa goes for a desperation flash pinfall, rolling him up tightly...
Lex Robinson: Teresa makes the count...
...1...2....
Lex Robinson: One... two...At the right time, Teresa places her feet on the rope, holding Travis down even moreso...
Lex Robinson: ...wait...!
...
...3!
Steve Hebert: Oh my God, it's already over! Nobody could have expected this one to end this quickly!
Lex Robinson: She had her feet on the ropes!
Steve Hebert: Who gives a shit? She does it. She defeats that tool, Travis Miller, once and for all.
"Arcarsenal" by At the Drive-In plays over the speakers and the fans boo, feeling they were robbed of a match, just when it was starting to get interesting. Ignoring their displeasure, Teresa doesn't care.
Teresa Quaranta: UNLOCK ME! UNLOCK ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Travis Miller is already stirring on the mat; and her window for escape is already running out. The chain unlocks and Teresa tries to run, but Miller grabs her by the arm and throws her over the ring! The fans cheer as Travis stands to his feet, with a bloody crotch, content to see her thrown outside.
Steve Hebert: Wait, does this mean Travis Miller is in the Battle Royal, too?
Lex Robinson: It does.
Steve Hebert: Oh God.
From the front row, he grabs one of the very expensive paintings and raises it into the air. The crowd screams wildly as Miller winds up and smashes it over Teresa's head, sending her skull through the canvas!
Lex Robinson: Travis Miller has had enough of Teresa Quaranta! Quite frankly, so have the fans.
Steve Hebert: But in the end, who's still the Ultraviolence Champion, huh?
Lex Robinson: Well... you're right about that.
Teresa Quaranta retreats to the back, with the painting crowned around her head. Luckily for her, she has the Ultraviolence Title in her hand, getting jeered by the fans, while Travis stands in the ring, getting cheered.
Redmaine: "Purity"? Purity in Sin Wrestling is a myth. There is no purity. There will never be purity. Purity is dead.
Grimacing, he holds up a pack of matches, removes one and flicks it against the box.
Redmaine: Here's what I think of your purity, Sin Wrestling and Chelsea Pryce...
He tosses the match into the bin, along with the complete box.
Redmaine: This is--...
A loud explosion comes from the bin, blowing up in Redmaine's face! Roaring out in pain, Redmain falls on his back, holding his face, with a bevy of officials running in with fire extinguishers and checking on Redmaine.
Panic is rampant and Redmaine remains on his back, in a rack of pain, holding his scorched face. His War has blown up in his face, along with the Purity Title. Officials hover over him, checking on his status as the scene fades out.
"Estuans Interius Ira Vehementi..."The volume of the music grows. The voice comes again.
"...Burning Inside With Violent Anger..."
The tempo increases, the pitch of the choir growing hectic. The voice speaks again.
"...the Voice of God is Come..."
Everything comes to a stop, nothing but silence coming forth. Then the voice screams out:
Lex Robinson: The feud between Lacklan and Stevie has been going on for years, and this might be their most definitive match yet. It's not just about personal affronts, this time the TV Title is at stake.
Steve Hebert: Alright, motherfucker, it's "Last Motherfucker" Standing time. And I've got a feeling that Stevie Swing isn't just in this for the Television Title, either. She wants to see Lacklan humiliated once and for all!
Lex Robinson: Lacklan has been quite the thorn in Stevie's side, as of late.
Steve Hebert: You better believe it. These two are longtime enemies and they're meeting again. Will Stevie destroy Lacklan, again? Perhaps!
Lex Robinson: They've beaten the hell out of each other many times before. It's safe to say it'll happen again.
The arena plunges into complete darkness, sending the fans at ringside into a total frenzy. Some flip open their cell phones, others hold their lighters up, all trying to get a glimpse of what’s going on. After about a minute of total black, a simple drums-and-claps loop kicks in over the house speakers. Some fans start to clap along, but this stops quickly, as a giant, fiber-optics-and-glass vagina descends from the ceiling, emitting flashes of blinding white light to the beat. When the vagina finally touches down, the lights die again, causing the crowd to boo. They’re quickly drowned out by the opening lines from Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.,” which is so loud that it echos.
Do the D.A.N.C.E
1234, fight!
Stick to the B.E.A.T
Get ready to ignite
You were such a P.Y.T
Catching all the lights
Just easy as A.B.C
That's how we make it right
Do the D.A.N.C.E
Stick to the B.E.A.T
Just easy as A.B.C
.
The music cuts out and the vagina lights up again, revealing a rather long-legged silhouette. Knowing who this is, the fans continue to boo…
DO THE DANCE!
DO THE DANCE!
With those six words, the lips of the glass vagina part. Out bursts Stevie Swing, wearing an opulent ring jacket, flanked by Horatio Q. and the Department of H.A.R.M.: Illegally Blonde, Porkins, Generic Heel, and CAPS LOCK. If Stevie is aware of the absolute hate the fans have for her, she doesn’t show it, as she slowly makes her way to the ring, Horatio Q. whispering sweet nothings in her ear as the lights strobe.
The Department of H.A.R.M. lift Stevie onto the ring apron, where she strikes a dramatic pose before flipping backwards into the ring, her hair and outfit unfazed. A spotlight shines down on Stevie as “D.A.N.C.E.” hits its bridge:
Under the spotlights
Neither black nor white
It doesn’t matter
Do the dance!
Do the dance!
As the song repeats itself, Stevie casually dances a bit, shimmying her way out of her ring robe, revealing the equally elaborate leotard underneath. As the robe falls to the mat, Horatio Q. barks orders at the Department of H.A.R.M., which sends Generic Heel and Porkins scrambling to pick up Stevie’s ring robe. Stevie takes off her sunglasses and hands those to CAPS LOCK, who guards them with his life as the Department of H.A.R.M. leave with Stevie’s things, leaving her and Horatio Q. to discuss strategy as Stevie warms up for the upcoming match.
Steve Hebert: There's Stevie Swing. You know, even though she's selfish, vain, shallow, and greedy; I can't help but think how amazing it is to have this level of talent in this company. She's a true role model.
Lex Robinson: I remember that this match opened One Minute 'Til Midnight a while back. It's the penultimate match tonight and we can expect a similar level of quality.
Steve Hebert: We fucking better.
The bell rings and Lacklan and Stevie circle.
Steve Hebert: Penultimate. That's a four-star word, nice work Lex.
Lex Robinson: Shut it, Steve. Stevie Swing not wasting anytime! Just as the bell rings, she charges across the ring, her knee directly going to the chest of Jean-Paul Lacklan!
Steve Hebert: Oh dear.
Lacklan is sent reeling from the hard blow that lands directly to the sternum. Right away, Stevie's on the attack with a storm of blows straight to the crown of Lacklan's head, but his rage finally helps him regain his wits and he pushes out from the turnbuckle, and starts battling back.
Steve Hebert: Ut oh.
Lex Robinson: This may not be good for Stevie!
Steve Hebert: You think?!
Lex Robinson: He grabs Stevie and throws her into the ropes... and Stevie reverses the whip! Stevie goes for "The Last Dance" right out of the gate! No! Lacklan blocks it and sends her flipping into the air with a windup clothesline!
Steve Hebert: Holy Jesus, that sent her flipping through the air.
Lacklan doesn't get fancy, pulling her up and hammering with hard right hands. Finally, Stevie ducks one of the blows, throws a hard uppercut to Lacklan, and follows up with a big roundhouse kick that she might have thought would have knocked him over!
Lex Robinson: Lacklan teeters and Stevie folows with a clothesline, but it still doesn't send Lacklan over. Finally, she grabs him by the legs and dumps him over the top rope, giving her much needed breathing time.
Steve Hebert: Possibly a preview for later tonight!
Lex Robinson: We'll see.
Steve Hebert: Lacklan lost his legs, and he couldn't defend himself because he was holding on to the ropes.
Stevie pulls herself up and baseball slides through the middle rope, sending Lacklan crashing back first into the barricade. She's still shaken up from Lacklan's earlier blows, but doesn't want to pass up the chance to attack, so she stands up and kicks him into the guardrail. As she starts kicking, Lacklan gradually gets his bearings and with a furious roar, grabs Stevie by the shoulder, walking through a vicious right hand, and tosses her squarely into the ring steps. There's so much impact that Stevie goes flying over the steps and lands in a heap.
Steve Hebert: Holy crap, Stevie Swing goes flying!
Lex Robinson: That just shows Lacklan's major goddamn strength!
Steve Hebert: I heard he once lifted the island of Australia on his own shoulders.
Lex Robinson: Well, right now, Lacklan closes in, looking to apply even more pain...
CAPS LOCK: LACKLAN!
Slowly, the voice of God turns to face CAPS LOCK, who suddenly looks very nervous.
Lex Robinson: CAPS LOCK IS SINGING OUT TO LACKLAN!
Steve Hebert: Goddamn, stop yelling. Jesus Christ.
CAPS LOCK: NOTHING. I FORGOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO-... HEY, HEY DON'T YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON ME WHILE I'M FORGETTING WHAT I WAS TALKING TO YOU ABOUT-...
As CAPS LOCK is rambling incoherently, Stevie slowly gets up and jumps on Lacklan's back.
Lex Robinson: Stevie leaps at Lacklan... but he seamlessly spins around, grabs Stevie, and tosses him into her cohortm headfirst!
Steve Hebert: Stupid, yelling CAPS LOCK!
CAPS LOCK rolls away, clutching his stomach in pain, until he leans over the barricade. Horatio Q., who is on the floor, is wearing a big straw hat and shades, nodding disapprovingly. Meanwhile, Lacklan grabs Stevie by the neck and throws her back in the ring before following her outside.
Lex Robinson: Lacklan lands a running punt to the center of her back before leaping over Stevie's head, flying off the ropes... and kicking her hard in the chest, sending her flat on her back! Soon, Lacklan drags Stevie to the center of the ring and fires lightning fast kicks around the body. Trying to fight him off, Stevie swings wildly, but Lacklan ducks and throws a double edged chop to the chest, knocking her down and out again.
Steve Hebert: Stevie just can't get away from her! He's going to pound her until she can't stand.
Lex Robinson: Considering the history between these two, I don't doubt it. And now a big, running kneedrop from Lacklan!
After this, Lacklan picks Stevie up, throws her into the ropes, and Stevie rebounds with a spinning elbow.
Lex Robinson: Wait, no...! Elbow from Stevie Swing!
Steve Hebert: More importantly, she's standing over him, waiting for the referee to count him down!
...1...2...
Lex Robinson: Stevie snarls, telling the referee to count faster. Unfortunately, Lacklan rises, but Stevie is quick to kick him back down. She climbs to the top rope... and dives off...!
Steve Hebert: Oh no, the referee's counting again...
...1...2...3...4...
Steve Hebert: Lacklan is up at 4! Stevie, visibly frustrated that a top rope splash hasn't ended a match for the first time since the late 1980's, leaves the ring and produces a steel chair.
Lex Robinson: She climbs into the ring as Lacklan's slowly stumbling to his feet... Bam! She crushes the steel chair across the crown of his skull! Lacklan stumbles backward from the pain of the chairshot; and Stevie stays on the offensive, hitting him again with another shot to the head!
These shots sent Lacklan flying outside of the ring, onto the ring apron. Stevie raises the chair again and Lacklan lets out a warcry and punches the chair in desperation, as Stevie goes to swing it at him!
Lex Robinson: Stevie goes flying back halfway across the ring, and Lacklan falls down on the outside!
Steve Hebert: Desperation moves there by both competitors. Both of them are on their backs! All Lacklan needs to do is get up and let the referee count!
Lex Robinson: Easier said than done. Once you've taken a couple of chairshots to the face, you don't really have the same pep in your step.
Lacklan's still hurting when Horatio Q gets up from his chair and charges over to Lacklan, peppering him with suede boots to the body!
Lex Robinson: And now Horatio Q. is involved!
Horatio Q: You fat Amerifag! You eat a fucking dick immediately!
The crowd sends a mixed reaction, but Horatio finally stops and makes a big "pull him up" gesture... but nothing happens. Slowly, he turns around, looking for his extremely qualified backup... but no one's there. He scans the crowd and finds Illegally Blonde still in the stands, text messaging or Twittering or whatever the kids are doing. Horatio covers his eyes in frustration, and when he turns his attention back to Lacklan, the Voice of God grabs him by the throat and holds him. The crowd gives a huge pop as Horatio flies into a panic.
Steve Hebert: Oh Jesus, watch out!
Horatio is flung onto the announcer's table, which sends the television monitors spilling to the floor, allowing him to pick one up. As Lacklan is clearing the table, Horatio frantically fumbles in his suit, pulls out a cellphone and starts tapping at the keys.
Lex Robinson: Horatio is using the phone to try and get out of here... or phone someone... or someone.
Steve Hebert: He's in big trouble, Lex. Poor old Horatio. He really is old, too.
Illegally Blonde, apparently getting a text just in time to save Horatio's ass, arrive, hitting Lacklan in the back just before he grabs Horatio again. Kathleen directs Michelle into position for a double powerbomb...
Lex Robinson: Wait, no--... Lacklan fights out of the hold! He grabs one of them by the throat...
Kathleen: It looks like our interference--...
Steve Hebert: He has the other one, too!Michelle: Gakarahgghhghgr!
He holds them up in the air and double-chokeslams them through the table!
Steve Hebert: Human wreckage is littering this ringside area, all in part to Jean-Paul Lacklan, the Television Champion. And now he's limping back into the ring to finish off Stevie Swing.
He crawls under the ring rope, gets up and stands over Stevie. Out of nowhere, Stevie nails her nemesis with a succinct lowblow!
Steve Hebert: Stevie Swing! Playing possum--...
Lex Robinson: No crap? Lacklan's been fighting off Stevie's entourage for practically the last ten minutes. Of course Stevie's going to be completely fresh.
Steve Hebert: You know, with this being a "Last Motherfucker" Standing match, shouldn't the referee have started counting Stevie out instead of trying to stare at Illegally Blonde's asses for the last 30 seconds?
Stevie knees Lacklan in the kneecap... then to the abdomen. She fully grabs his leg and DDTs it into the ground! Getting back up, Stevie lays hard punches and chops to Lacklan's chest, hits a kneelift and tries for a suplex.
Lex Robinson: Lacklan blocks the suplex attempt! Instead, Lacklan lands a staggering right that knocks Stevie back against the ropes. He charges at her, going for a big leaping-forearm at Stevie's head. However, she ducks! Lacklan is sent flying over the top rope, going all the way to the floor!
Steve Hebert: Damnit, that won't be happening later. I assure you that.
Lex Robinson: We'll see, Steve. We'll see.
On the floor, Lacklan is stalked by Stevie, who goes for The Last Dance. Seeing it coming, Lacklan side-steps, but Stevie is able to improve by landing a sit-down dropkick to Lacklan's knee!
Lex Robinson: Lacklan stumbles back, almost having his knee popped out, but he responds by grabbing Stevie by the hair and slamming her face off the ring post! He delivers a hard chop across her chest and goes to follow up with another. But wait-- no! Stevie ducks the attack and Lacklan's hand wails against the steel post!
Steve Hebert: Shit, shit, shit! That could be a broken hand!
Lex Robinson: Using his other hand, Lacklan begins firing shots back and forth with Stevie, with Lacklan eventually rolling her back inside. In here, Stevie actually is the first up, allowing her to crotch Lacklan across the middle rope as he tries to re-enter the ring.
Steve Hebert: I think his testicles just launched into his throat.
Stevie whips Lacklan into the ropes, springs up to the top turnbuckle, and launches off a moonsault dropkick, catching Lacklan upon the rebound!
Steve Hebert: Whether you love or hate Stevie Swing, you've got to admit that's an innovative maneuver. The referee starts the count! Lacklan looks totally disoriented!
1...2...3...
Steve Hebert: Damnit, Lacklan, get up!
4...5...6...
Lex Robinson: We're up to 6!
Steve Hebert: This is way too close.
...7...
Lex Robinson: We're at 7...!
Steve Hebert: Lacklan pulls himself up! He's taking so much abuse, but none of it has been enough to put him away!
Lex Robinson: Stevie looks around nervously, then slowly starts to hightail it out of the ring. Lacklan follows after her... and he runs right in to a monitor shot from Generic Heel! The Department of H.A.R.M. is doing everything they can to make sure Lacklan doesn't leave as Television Champion!
Generic Heel stalks Lacklan with the monitor as Stevie watches with approval. Over and over again, Generic Heel smashes Lacklan with the monitor, keeping him down and out.
Steve Hebert: This is ridiculous. I know this is a No-DQ match, but...
Lex Robinson: If only Lacklan had... say... an army of brainwashed malcontents who could keep him from getting destroyed in this theatrical man-... OH SHIT! IT'S THE MINONS!
A legion of pale goths descend upon the ring, brutally attacking Generic Heel and the rest of the Department of H.A.R.M., who are outnumbered but still managing to hold their own against the horde. Panicked, Stevie throws Lacklan into the ring and demands the referee start counting Lacklan out.
1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...
Lex Robinson: It's so close. We're up to 9...
Steve Hebert: Oh God no...
Lex Robinson: Get up, Lacklan!
Lacklan responds at 9, woozily standing up!
Steve Hebert: He's up!
Stevie freaks out, just keeping her composure enough to boot a minion in the head and throw them out of the ring, where she slams his skull with a chair! In the meantime, Horatio throws Stevie a chair and she immediately gives Lacklan an unprotected chair shot to the head! Horatio throws Stevie another chair, and she hits him again and again and again, until Lacklan's covered in blood and on the ground!
Steve Hebert: Why didn't Stevie just take a chair and hit him with it a lot of times in a row?
Lex Robinson: Because... she's making a fort of chairs on Lacklan!
Two minions manage to storm the ring. Stevie belts them with chairs, nailing each one in the head.
Lex Robinson: These fellows are getting slammed...
Steve Hebert: These goths are getting destroyed. Shouldn't they be waiting until the 20th, when they celebrate Columbine?!
With a final blow, Stevie hits Lacklan in the head with one last chair and Lacklan falls sideways into a stack of them. Stevie falls down from exhaustion and the referee starts the count!
...1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...Lex Robinson: Stevie is up, yet again! She breaks the count!
Slowly, she makes her way into the corner, seeing Lacklan buried under the fort of chairs. With some fans cheering her on, she walks into the corner and climbs to the top rope, in a dazed state.
Lex Robinson: Stevie goes to the top! This could be it!
Steve Hebert: Five Star of David onto Lacklan and the fort of chairs! This is it!
Lex Robinson: She stands up and pushes the referee aside, demanding that he make the count onf Lacklan...
...1...2...3...4...5...6...
Lex Robinson: We're up to 6. Just a bit more...
Steve Hebert: If Lacklan can't get up, it means Stevie is the new Television Champion.
Lex Robinson: It's close...
...7...8...9...
Steve Hebert: C'mon, Lacklan, rise...!
...10!
Lex Robinson: He's down for the count! Stevie Swing wins! Jean-Paul Lacklan loses the Television Title to Stevie Swing!
Steve Hebert: Goddamnit. I'm so conflicted. I should be happy for Stevie, but Lacklan deserves better.
Lex Robinson: He didn't put up enough of an effort. That's why he's on the ground, at the losing end of this match, with the TV Title no longer in his hands.
The referee awards Stevie with the Television Title and holds her hand in the air, naming her the victor. Yanking the title away, she retreats to the back, with the damaged Department of H.A.R.M. crippling behind her.
Steve Hebert: You know, that Television Title sure looks sexy around Stevie's waist. Of course, the World Title would look even better.
Lex Robinson: Well, we'll have to see about that.
Lacklan remains in the ring, amidst a pile of steel chairs. Suddenly, the other minions slide inside, pull Lacklan out of the ring and they lift him above their head and carry him to the backstage area.
Lex Robinson: The Minions are lifting Lacklan out of here!
Steve Hebert: That's a lot of beef they're carrying. I wouldn't be surprised if he fell on them and flattened all of those filthy goths.
They disappear behind the curtain, carting him away ala Jesus Christ. The fans are in disbelief, trying to figure out what just happened, waiting for the main event to occur.
Corey Page: What's going on? Is he good to go?
The doctor shakes his head -- "no".
Doctor: Listen, Carson, I may have medically cleared you for your earlier match; but I just cannot clear you to continue. There's no way you'll be involved in that battle royal.
Corey Page: Wait, what--...? But he's...--
The doctor turns to Corey Page.
Doctor: I'm sorry. I just can't do it. I'm not medically clearing him again.
Corey Page: But you have to! The Creep has to be in the main event!
Just as Corey spurts those words -- "The Creep" -- Chris Carson stands up, using a crutch to help him rise. There are scars on his body and fleshwounds still on his face. Staring down Corey, he shakes his head.
Chris Carson: First of all, Page, I told you. The Creep is dead. Gone. No more. His death was long overdue. Live with it.
Corey Page: Yeah, right. We all know you. You'll be in that main event. I just know it.
Chris Carson remains silent for a second and turns to look at the doctor.
Chris Carson: If the doctor says I can't go, then I can't go. This is a short life and I'm not ruining my body any further tonight. The doctor is right. I must skip this one.
The fans at ringside boo, listening in on their conversation.
Doctor: It's true. He can't go. Sorry, Mr. Page.
Corey Page: Ugh, fine.
Placing his right hand on Corey's right shoulder, Chris Carson speaks with penance in his voice.
Chris Carson: I'm not going. I can't place anymore harm on myself. I trust in Christ that you'll find a replacement.
Corey scrunches up his face.
Corey Page: What the "Christ"?
With a pained look on his face, Chris Carson sits back down on his chair, getting checked by the referee. Suddenly, a hand taps Corey Page's shoulder, forcing him to swivel around and see who it is.
It's Horatio Q., Corey Page's nemesis. He is dressed in tight, white spandex, which presses tightly to his body, looking as if he's ready to wrestle. Alongside him is Generic Heel and CAPS LOCK.
Corey Page: Hello, Horatio.
Horatio Q.: Hello, Coreyfaggot.
Corey Page: What do you guys want? I'm busy. The main event is soon ready to start. I'm too busy to deal with this.
Horatio Q.: You have opening for match, we will fill it. Let us in.
Corey Page: Hm?
Generic Heel: [aggressively shaking his fist in Corey's direction] Let us in the match, shitdick!
Corey Page: Say what?
CAPS LOCK: I DO BELIEVE WHAT MY GREGARIOUS PALS ARE TRYING TO DIGRESS IS THAT WE, THE DEPARTMENT OF H.A.R.M., WILL PROUDLY FILL IN THAT OPEN SLOT. WE HOPE YOU OBLIGE WITH THIS WONDERFUL SENTIMENT.
Horatio Q.: Yeah, faggot, let us in. We promise we won't cheat to help Stevie Swing. We'll only not make Stevie Swing fall out of the ring and not get pinned.
Corey Page: Wait, isn't that cheating?
Horatio Q. pulls out a gun and aims it at Corey's face.
Horatio Q.: Let us in match, motherfucker.
Corey backs away, terrified.
Corey Page: Okay, okay. Sheesh. Fine. You guys can be in the match. Jesus Christ.
With a wash of horror on his face, Corey walks away, allowing for the Department of H.A.R.M. to take Chris Carson's place in the Battle Royal. A very content Horatio Q. puts the gun back in his tights, while Generic Heel angrily folds his arms and kicks over a chair.
Generic Heel: That was too easy. We were supposed to shoot, kick, rape and sodomize him.
CAPS LOCK: LET'S GET TO THE RING, SHALL WE?
Horatio Q.: Yes, yes; we must help Stevie, our poor, lovely Stevie.
Like clockwork, they march out of view, passing by Chris Carson, who remains seated on his chair and smiling to himself, having gotten out of the match. The camera zooms on Chris's smirking face, showing off his battlescars before fading out.
Lex Robinson: Well, guys, it's main event time. To be frank, I'm not even sure if we have enough people for this match, considering the way people have been dropping out.
Steve Hebert: Chris Extreme goes into a daze and walks into traffic or into Morgana's closet; Jean-Paul Lacklan gets carted away by his minions; Chris Carson is injured; and Redmaine blew his face off. At least we have The Department of H.A.R.M.! They'll certainly help Stevie win, right? Right. Just like Chris Extreme and Crux from last year.
Lex Robinson: Well, last year's winner is not here. That person being Morgana.
Steve Hebert: Hey, if Chris Extreme hadn't wandered off, she could have been the first ever 3-time winner!
Lex Robinson: Not quite, no. The only person in this match that has a chance of repeating is Stevie Swing; who, as you said, walks into this match with the Department of H.A.R.M. at her side.
Steve Hebert: Just bring those motherfuckers out. If there's anyone even left to come out.
Lex Robinson: Agreed. Let's get to it.
The arena’s lights suddenly go out. Chelsea Pryce’s voice resounds softly in accompaniment to the soft "we're at war" chants.
"Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me... yeah!"
To make matters literal with these lyrics, along both sides of the ramp purple pyros that portray towers rise up as she walks down the ramp. Even the spotlight begins to flash on and off to match the following lyrics.
"We are broken
What must we do to restore our innocence
And oh, the promise we adore?
Give us life again
'Cause we just want to be whole!"
All the lights turn back on by the word "whole". She jumps onto the apron and climbs through the ropes into the ring, removing her sunglasses and looking to the fans that continue to cheer her on. With a smile, she pulls her fingerless gloves down, punches her fist into her open palm and a burst of purple pyro from the ring posts shoot up. After the music fades slowly, she takes off her jacket and sets it aside with her sunglasses, soon ready to go.
Lex Robinson: Chelsea Pryce has arrived!
Steve Hebert: She's Mother Superior, which I think means she's a MILF.
Lex Robinson: I don't believe so, Steve.
Steve Hebert: Well, I'd still fuck her, crazy bitch or not. Seriously, this bitch is demented. Crazy in the head equals crazy in the bed. I'd fuck her daughter, too.
Lex Robinson: Isn't she only in her teens?
Steve Hebert: Listen here, you leech, if Roman Polanski can get away with fucking a 5 month old, I can away with this.
Lex Robinson: But--...
Steve Hebert: Don't "but" me.
Lex Robinson: Anyway, rest assured both Kerry Windsor and Kelvin Coolidge will be wanting to get their hands on her.
Steve Hebert: And not in a sexual manner, either. They want to give this crazy old bag a kick in the box.
The lights dim, and the spotlights in the arena pulsate and dance across the arena, in tune to the primal drumbeat of At The Drive-In's Arcarsenal. The video screen above the entrance lights up, looking like faded paper, and overlapped with drawings of rotating, interconnected gears, half-finished mechanisms and small words in a strange text. The screen flashes back and forth between the blueprints and highlights of Teresa's SW career.
I must have robbed them of their cause.
Sickened thirst, sickened thirst keeps it together.
Soft white glow in the cranium, a bullseye made sedated...
Teresa pauses at the top of the ramp and deliberately raises two fingers to her neck for a few seconds, then to her wrist. Once her pulse is checked, she takes a deep breath, pivots towards the crowd and flicks her hand towards the ring, sticking her nose in the air and jawing snidely at the fans. As she reaches the ring, she steps through the middle rope, beige sparklers fall from above the ring, but Teresa doesn't give them much acknowledgment besides looking in their direction.
She walks to the turnbuckle and leans against it with a knowing smile, waiting for the match to start.
Steve Hebert: Teresa Quaranta, fresh off beating Travis Miller, who was really Los Lonely Boy, has arrived! Still with the Ultraviolence Title, too, mind you. As if she wouldn't.
Lex Robinson: She has proclaimed herself "The Queen of Ultraviolence", as well.
Steve Hebert: Rightfully so, might I add. Right now, she's in the ring with her former friend and partner, Chelsea Pryce. You have to think Teresa approves of what she did earlier.
Lex Robinson: Hmm... I don't know.
Steve Hebert: Well, they're all crazy whores, if you ask me.
Lex Robinson: Perhaps!
The arena plunges into complete darkness, sending the fans at ringside into a total frenzy. Some flip open their cell phones, others hold their lighters up, all trying to get a glimpse of what’s going on. After about a minute of total black, a simple drums-and-claps loop kicks in over the house speakers. Some fans start to clap along, but this stops quickly, as a giant, fiber-optics-and-glass vagina descends from the ceiling, emitting flashes of blinding white light to the beat. When the vagina finally touches down, the lights die again, causing the crowd to boo. They’re quickly drowned out by the opening lines from Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.,” which is so loud that it echos.
Do the D.A.N.C.E
1234, fight!
Stick to the B.E.A.T
Get ready to ignite
You were such a P.Y.T
Catching all the lights
Just easy as A.B.C
That's how we make it right
Do the D.A.N.C.E
Stick to the B.E.A.T
Just easy as A.B.C
.
The music cuts out and the vagina lights up again, revealing a rather long-legged silhouette. Knowing who this is, the fans continue to boo…
DO THE DANCE!
DO THE DANCE!
With those six words, the lips of the glass vagina part. Out bursts Stevie Swing, wearing an opulent ring jacket, flanked by Horatio Q. and the Department of H.A.R.M.: Illegally Blonde, Porkins, Generic Heel, and CAPS LOCK. If Stevie is aware of the absolute hate the fans have for her, she doesn’t show it, as she slowly makes her way to the ring, Horatio Q. whispering sweet nothings in her ear as the lights strobe.
The Department of H.A.R.M. lift Stevie onto the ring apron, where she strikes a dramatic pose before flipping backwards into the ring, her hair and outfit unfazed. A spotlight shines down on Stevie as “D.A.N.C.E.” hits its bridge:
Under the spotlights
Neither black nor white
It doesn’t matter
Do the dance!
Do the dance!
As the song repeats itself, Stevie casually dances a bit, shimmying her way out of her ring robe, revealing the equally elaborate leotard underneath. As the robe falls to the mat, Horatio Q. steps into the ring, removes his jacket and unveils his tight, disgusting singlet. By Stevie's side is Generic Heel and CAPS LOCK, who will also be in this match, fighting alongside her.
Steve Hebert: Stevie Swing and The Department of H.A.R.M. have arrived! If I'm a betting man -- and I am -- I'd put all my money on Stevie. She's won it before; and she can easily do it again.
Lex Robinson: That's definitely a wise choice. Who knows; anything can happen.
Steve Hebert: Hell, The Department of H.A.R.M. could even win this! Can you picture Horatio Q. being the last person standing? Or CAPS LOCK! God, I love CAPS LOCK. He has a nice mask. He likes to talk a lot, too. And yell. Boy, does he like to yell.
Lex Robinson: Stevie, of course, is the new Television Champion, having defeated Jean-Paul Lacklan prior to this match. After that, Lacklan was literally carried off by a bunch of his minions.
Steve Hebert: To put it simple, Stevie went nuts. I would, too, if I lost to Kerry Windsor twice. Kerry probably got pegged by Chelsea Pryce now that I think of it.
"Starfuckers, Inc" by Nine Inch Nails hits the sound system and Jake Norton walks out to a weird reaction. He is wearing black tights and a "Fuck Niggers lawlz" t-shirt. He walks down to the ring and jumps in quickly, climbing the top ropes and throwing the shirt into the crowd. He jumps off and turns to face his opponent.
Lex Robinson: As for Jake Norton, he wrangled his way into this match by defeating 3 others in an advancement match near the start of the night.
Steve Hebert: Hell yeah. He took out Johnny Roman, Zoe and J. Polo. Good for him. This guy's got spunk. Lots and lots of spunk... and jizz.
Lex Robinson: You sicken me.
Steve Hebert: Hey, it could surprise us all by winning this thing, too!
Lex Robinson: Maybe.
The lights fade, an assortment of colorful lazers illuminate through a cloud of smoke and "New Divide" by Linkin Park hits the speakers. Travis Miller rises from beneath the stage at the end of the ramp, holding his head up high. Stepping out from the smoke, he takes his time walking to the ring, slapping a few hands on his way down, while eyeballing his opponent. Sliding inside, he stands to his feet and prepares for his match to begin.
Steve Hebert: Now here's a scumbag if there ever was one.
Lex Robinson: He fell at the hands of Teresa Quaranta earlier, maybe he'll get redemption.
Steve Hebert: ...Hahahaha.
Lex Robinson: What?
Steve Hebert: That was hilarious, Lex. Good one.
Lex Robinson: Travis came close to winning the first Over the Top Rope Battle Royal. I wouldn't laugh.
Steve Hebert: Yeah, to put that into perspective, he almost eliminated Charlotte West. Think about that for a second. And he still lost.
Lex Robinson: Well...
The guitars of "Take The Long Road And Walk It" by The Music hit the speakers as the entrance floods with fog.
She said she didn't know me...
Said I was sweet...
She said she didn't know me...
NOW I'M NOT SO SWEET, YEAH!
As soon as the bass line kicks in, a huge pyro goes off and Kelvin Coolidge walks out from the back in a plain black T-shirt, black sunglasses, and a pair of ripped denim jeans. Rolling into the ring, he smiles and points to a few people in the crowd, greeting some with grins and others with the middle finger. He leaps down and windmills his arms, readying himself for the match.
Lex Robinson: With Travis Miller shooting daggers from his eyes at Teresa Quaranta, Kelvin Coolidge does the same with Chelsea Pryce.
Steve Hebert: He probably fucked her with a dagger, too.
Lex Robinson: Who knows. Goddamn, who knows.
Steve Hebert: He beat the living shit out of Kerry Windsor earlier; winning this shindig would be a nice thing for him, too. He finished second for the Ultimate Survival Match, getting first here would be even better. Who do you think he would challenge? Maybe Chelsea to a "Fucking Match"? Maybe he'd invite Stevie over for that match, as well. What a sexy triple threat that would be.
Lex Robinson: Hey, that's possible, too. He put up a great showing in that match. There's a good chance he can one-up that.
Steve Hebert: He even waves to his father, Horatio Q..
Lex Robinson: Wait, what?
Steve Hebert: Yup. It's father and son.
Lex Robinson: I... see. No wonder Kelvin is the way he is. It actually explains a lot.
Steve Hebert: Don't be a motherfaggot, faggot.
Lex Robinson: Only one person left...
"It's Goin' Down" by The X-Ecutioners and Mike Shinoda plays on the speakers. Kerry Windsor comes stumbling out, staggering on his damaged right leg. Headed towards the ringside area, he keeps his head up, eyeing Kelvin Coolidge, Stevie Swing and even Chelsea Pryce, who chose to strike him down earlier in the night. Rolling inside, he finds an open portion of the ring and waits for the bell to ring.
Lex Robinson: They're all here.
Steve Hebert: We have a small crop here, this year.
Lex Robinson: Injuries and insanity have taken its toll, Steve.
Steve Hebert: I'd say so.
Everyone shuffles about inside of the ring, with The Department of H.A.R.M. in one corner, standing alongside their leader, Stevie Swing. Kelvin Coolidge is in the corner adjacent to them, with Chelsea Pryce standing in corner opposite of him. In the remaining corner is Jake Norton, who stands behind Teresa Quaranta, who looks over her shoulder, in preparation. Travis Miller stands in the center of the ring, standing back-to-back with Kerry Windsor, each of them trying to remain on the outlook.
Lex Robinson: Here we go.
Steve Hebert: Ring that bell. Let the shit hit the fan.
Ding... ding... ding!
Lex Robinson: And we're off! Immediately, all participants go into the center of the ring, attacking each other. The Department of H.A.R.M., for their own part, stay in their corner, letting Stevie do all of the work. They see Jake Norton sneak up on her and grab on her hair, but Generic Heel and CAPS LOCK charge out and jump him!
Steve Hebert: Well, they learned from that. There'll be no touching Stevie. Horatio applauds their effort, too.
Lex Robinson: Don't speak too soon. Teresa Quaranta comes up behind Stevie, spins her around and levels her with a crescent-kick to the gut! She facelocks Stevie... but is then taken down with a running-clothesline from Travis Miller, who bounces off ropes!
Steve Hebert: Fuck that. Kelvin Coolidge, Chelsea Pryce and Kerry Windsor are mixing it up on the other side of the ring. Kelvin punches Kerry. Chelsea punches Kerry... and Kerry responds by striking Kelvin and Chelsea, double-knocking their skulls together! Ouchies.
Lex Robinson: What a great way to stop that. Kerry bashes their skulls together, but is hastily attacked... by Horatio Q., of all people!
Steve Hebert: Yeah! How dare Kerry do that to his son!
Lex Robinson: Using a lowblow, Horatio catches Kerry by surprise and happily stands, watching as he cripples around, holding his crotch. Don't forget his leg is also injured.
Steve Hebert: Horatio should rip his leg off and beat him with it.
Off in the corner, Kelvin Coolidge backfists Chelsea and dumps her to the corner with a vicious whip. He delivers some back-elbows, turns around and notices Horatio Q. celebrating his takedown of Kerry Windsor. Right away, Kelvin runs at his father, hooks him from behind and tosses him over the top rope.
Steve Hebert: Wait just a second!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidge has flung Horatio Q. to the floor, which is right where he belongs!
Steve Hebert: This is awful! How could he do that to his papa?!
Lex Robinson: Generic Heel and CAPS LOCK stand back, absolutely stunned. They have no idea how to react. They jump Kelvin Coolidge, wanting to exact revenge on his elimination of Horatio! For his part, though, Kelvin tosses them aside, slaps CAPS LOCK across the face and nails an Enziguiri Uppercut Kick to Generic Heel!
Chelsea Pryce is about to move in and attack Kelvin Coolidge from behind, but Jake Norton moves in, grabbing her from behind.
Lex Robinson: Jake Norton greets Chelsea with a right-handed punch! These two have known each other in prior places; and what a way to welcome each other to the match.
Steve Hebert: There's nothing like a punch to the mush.
Lex Robinson: He backs her against the ropes, having interrupted her assault on Kelvin, but she stops his attack by drop-toe-holding him across the middle rope. Out of nowhere, though, Stevie Swing runs in and delivers a running double-stomp to the back of Norton's back, choking him across the middle rope!
Steve Hebert: Wait... Chelsea steps in and tries to push Stevie Swing over the top rope!
Fortunately for Stevie, she is able to maintain her balance while remaining atop Jake Norton's back, trying to choke him out. Stevie delivers a mean kick to Chelsea's face, making her stumble back... only to walk right into a superkick from a leaping Kerry Windsor!
Lex Robinson: The crowd pops loud for Kerry Windsor superkicking Chelsea Pryce!
Steve Hebert: They are monsters. First, they want Chris Carson to batter Chris Extreme with a chair; and now they cheer this monster. This guy is worse than Patrick Bateman.
Lex Robinson: You just want some of that money he won.
Steve Hebert: Fuck yeah, I do.
As Chelsea crumbles to her feet, Stevie Swing uses Jake Norton's back as a springboard to come flying back, nailing Kerry Windsor with a flying-forearm! Having knocked him down, she goes nuts on his face, smashing and punching away at him!
Steve Hebert: And now Stevie Swing is getting her shots in at Kerry Windsor! Good! Make him bleed!
CAPS LOCK and Generic Heel get up and aide Stevie Swing in beating down Kerry Windsor, even offering him some kicks. While on the floor, Horatio Q. tries to get back inside, but referees literally carry him to the back.
Lex Robinson: They're finally getting Horatio Q. out of here. Good riddance, I say.
Steve Hebert: At least the other Department of H.A.R.M. members are getting their kicks in.
Lex Robinson: Not for long, though. Kerry Windsor gets some unlikely support from Teresa Quaranta, of all people! Yanking Generic Heel around, she twists his mask around, making him blindly stumble about... only to walk into a belly-to-belly suplex from Travis Miller!
Steve Hebert: Wait, what? Travis Miller and Teresa Quaranta are teaming together to beat up The Department of H.A.R.M.! What the Christ is going on here?
Lex Robinson: Anyone can be your enemy; and anyone can be your friend in this match.
Steve Hebert: Oh no, Teresa is now grabbing CAPS LOCK. Poor, harmless CAPS LOCK. He's a nice fellow and she's repeatedly kicking him in the gut, even elbowing him across the back of his neck. Ugh.
Lex Robinson: She whips him around, throwing him towards Travis Miller...
Steve Hebert: Oh God, not to T-Mill...
Lex Robinson: And Miller presses CAPS LOCK into the air and sends him flying across the ring, making him land on his back!
Steve Hebert: Oh, dear...
Lex Robinson: He goes to follow in, wanting to do more damage... but wait... now Teresa attacks Miller from behind! Good grief.
Steve Hebert: Haha, what a maroon. From behind, TQ cobra clutches Miller and brings him down with a Russian legsweep combination! And the fans boo it. Ah, piss off, shitdicks.
Standing to her feet, Teresa soaks in the jeers, making the fans boo her even moreso. However, the second that she turns around, she is blasted with a stiff forearm from Kelvin Coolidge, who laughs as he watches her stumble back, holding her nose.
Steve Hebert: Surely that was accidental.
Lex Robinson: She lines up against Kelvin, staring him down; but she backs down, moving into the corner. She sees Jake Norton come from behind, nailing Kerry with a leaping-knee to the back, sending him sprawling forward! As a result, Teresa is able to swing her leg up and connect with a Roundhouse Kick, dropping him like a sack of bricks!
Steve Hebert: As Kelvin falls down, Jake Norton stands over him, pointing at his fallen form. Hmph. Teresa snickers, winks at Jake... and then connects with another Roundhouse Kick, knocking Jake Norton silly! Oh dear. Surely that was accidental, as well.
Lex Robinson: No way. She winded up and struck with fervor.
Standing in one corner, taking things in, Chelsea Pryce watches as Stevie Swing does a number on Kerry, still punching his lights out. Stevie lifts Kerry up, hammers him with some more punches and holds him for Chelsea Pryce.
Steve Hebert: Hah, oh boy. Stevie Swing is holding Kerry Windsor in place, allowing Chelsea Pryce to measure him up. Chelsea bounces off the ropes...
Lex Robinson: ...but Kerry breaks free, rolling from Stevie's clutches! As a result, Chelsea plasters Stevie with a roaring-elbow, sending her straight to the ropes, tangling her up!
Steve Hebert: Uh oh. That wasn't supposed to happen!
Lex Robinson: You think?
Watching as Stevie falls against the ropes, Chelsea turns around... only to be brought down with a spinning spinebuster from Kerry Windsor!
Steve Hebert: That wasn't supposed to happen, either!
Lex Robinson: Kerry brings Chelsea down, hard!
Steve Hebert: Chelsea and going down hard goes hand-in-hand. Several other things go in her hand, too.
Lex Robinson: Still blinded, having his mask twisted around his face, Generic Heel gets to his feet, slightly dazed and unable to see where he's going. As a result, he bumps into Teresa Quaranta, who forearms him in the face, which is left wide open to an attack.
Steve Hebert: For the love of God, someone fix his terrible mask.
Lex Robinson: Trying to fight back, Generic Heel swings at nothing but air.
Steve Hebert: How awful.
Lex Robinson: He swings again... but strikes Stevie Swing, who is still tied-up with the ropes! Oops.
Steve Hebert: "Oops" is right. That's not good! Stevie's not going to like that!
Generic Heel stumbles about some more, walking directly into Teresa, who grabs him by the mask and throws him over the top rope! He bumps hard on the apron and is then kicked cleanly off by Teresa, which sends him sailing to the ring railing!
Steve Hebert: Noooo! Generic Heel lands with a thud on the floor.
Lex Robinson: The referees take him to the back, too; but that's partially because his mask is twisted around, resulting in him stumbling about and punching random fans.
Referees swarm around Generic Heel, dragging him back over the ring railing, as he accidentally falls overboard, going into the front row. They are forced to bring him to the back, letting things continue inside of the ring.
Lex Robinson: CAPS LOCK is the only person remaining representing the Department of H.A.R.M.! Well, unless you count Stevie. Their plan of having them try and help Stevie isn't working out so well.
Steve Hebert: CAPS LOCK might be their saving grace. Maybe!
Just then, CAPS LOCK charges at Teresa Quaranta. Right away, she ducks down, sending CAPS LOCK flying to the floor with a huge backdrop!
Steve Hebert: ...or maybe not!
Lex Robinson: So much for that plan!
Steve Hebert: All members of The Department of H.A.R.M. are out of here! Fuck me.
Lex Robinson: Stevie remains against the ropes, looking on with horror as he watches CAPS LOCK plummet to the floor. She mouths "Oh well", turns around... and walks directly into a Fisherman's Buster from Kerry Windsor!
Meanwhile, on the floor, CAPS LOCK is on his back and is dragged by his feet to the backstage area by the referees.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidge is on his knees, crawling up behind Teresa, like some sort of sick, twisted pervert. Placing his head between her legs, he lifts her onto his shoulders, holding her in an Electric Chair position! Teresa, who is twitching, trying to free herself, views Jake Norton fly off the top rope...
Steve Hebert: Jake Norton with a flying hurricanrana to Teresa, sending her flying off Kelvin Coolidge's shoulders! Holy Jesus!
The fans are on their feet, cheering Teresa being flung violently to the floor! Jake Norton gets right back up, yells at Teresa... but is then hoisted up onto Kelvin's shoulders, as well!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin has hoisted Jake Norton up onto his shoulders now!
Steve Hebert: I guess you really can't trust anyone in this match!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin turns around... and Chelsea Pryce comes from behind, using the top rope as a springboard. She soars through the air, grabs onto Jake Norton's head and brings him down with a flying cutter off Kelvin Coolidge's shoulders! Good lord, his face was planted into the canvas!
Steve Hebert: This is insane.
Lex Robinson: And Kelvin Coolidge wastes no time in lifting Chelsea onto his shoulders, as well!
Steve Hebert: What the hell?!
Lex Robinson: And the second she's lifted into the air, Kerry Windsor springboards off the top rope and comes flying back, delivering a flying dropkick, flipping her off Kelvin's shoulders!
Steve Hebert: You just know he got erect from doing that.
Lex Robinson: And now Kelvin Coolidge clubs Kerry Windsor across the back and elbows him in the skull. He lifts Kerry up onto his shoulders, as well! Wait...
Instead of flying through the air, Stevie charges at Kelvin, literally climbs up his body and leaps into the air. Going sky-high, she jumps up, latches onto Kerry Windsor's head and Tornado DDTs him down to the canvas!
Lex Robinson: Oh my God!
Steve Hebert: Yep. Well, Kerry Windsor is dead. Chelsea's daughter will be sad about that. As for me, I am laughing on the inside and on the outside.
Lex Robinson: His head literally plunged into the canvas! I'm surprised he didn't go through the goddamn thing!
Steve Hebert: And you know what? Kelvin grabs Stevie and hoists her up onto his shoulders, too! He is a madman!
Lex Robinson: Wait... wait...
Just as he has Stevie in the air, Travis Miller walks in, grabs Kelvin from behind and German suplexes him! Both Kelvin and Stevie go flying across the ring, with Stevie getting the brunt of the damage, having been on Kelvin's shoulders!
Lex Robinson: Holy Christ! It just gets crazier!
Steve Hebert: I think Stevie Swing just died, too! This is horrifying!
Lex Robinson: Everyone is down! Only Travis Miller is able to stand.
Steve Hebert: What a horrifying image. Ugh.
Raising his hands into the air, Travis Miller soaks in the applause. When he turns around, though, he walks directly into a leaping, running knee from Teresa Quaranta!
Lex Robinson: TQ out of nowhere!
Steve Hebert: Haha, she takes Miller out, yet again. As usual. The story of Miller's night. Hell, it's the story of his miserable life.
Lex Robinson: Much like earlier in the night, Teresa lays it on thick, kicking and stomping at Travis, wanting to beat the life out of him. Despite her best efforts, though, he tries to fight back, using his arm to shield himself from the knees and kicks. Winding up, she goes for another spinning-kick, but he grabs her foot, blocking the blow!
Steve Hebert: If only he couldn't block someone blowing him away.
In rapid succession, Miller dragonscrew legwhips Teresa, sending her rolling to the canvas, allowing him to instantly apply an ankle lock!
Lex Robinson: Travis has an ankle-lock applied!
Steve Hebert: That isn't going to eliminate her; but it might stop her lethal kicks. Goddamnit.
As Teresa is down, hollering in pain, she receives some unlikely help from Chelsea Pryce, who, in a daze, comes to the side of Miller and jabs him in the eyes with her thumbs. Chopping him across the chest, she knocks him away from Teresa, sending him into the corner, where she grabs his head and bashes his face off the top turnbuckle pad.
Steve Hebert: Thanks to Chelsea Pryce, Travis Miller is shoo'ed away from Teresa. I never thought I'd say that.
Lex Robinson: She traps him in the corner, where she begins kicking at him, even nailing him with some forearms. Teresa, meanwhile, is standing up and is moving into the opposite corner. She runs forward, headed straight for Travis and Chelsea...
Teresa runs like a train, leaps in the air and puts both of her knees together, hoping to sandwich Chelsea between herself and Travis. However, Chelsea turns around just in the nick of time and rolls out of the way. As a result, Travis is pancaked against the turnbuckle pads with a running double-knee attack!
Lex Robinson: Chelsea scuttle-butts out of the way and Teresa slams into Travis Miller!
Steve Hebert: Even better!
Lex Robinson: Absolutely winded, he stumbles out, falls to his knees and lands parallel to the corner. Teresa, on the other hand has Chelsea Pryce run at her, trying to grab onto her. Thinking quick, she backdrops Chelsea over the top rope and... Chelsea lands on the ring apron!
Steve Hebert: Whoa, what was freakin' close.
Lex Robinson: Luckily for Chelsea, she remains on the apron and rolls back inside, while Teresa has elevated herself to the top turnbuckle. Within seconds, she's leaping off, diving off the top rope... and she hits the Buzzard Knee! Both of her knees come crashing down on Miller, much to the dismay of the crowd!
Steve Hebert: She lands on his chest... and rolls her head right in between Kerry Windsor's legs. Hey, that's Chelsea Pryce's spot! Disgusting!
Lex Robinson: Taking no time whatsoever, Kerry hoists her up into a powerbomb position, spins around and drives her hard, down onto the canvas!
Steve Hebert: Oh man. Now he's going to the top rope. He slowly cripples up, feeling the damage done to him earlier in the night. He goes for a 450 degree splash...!
Lex Robinson: Wait--...! Kelvin Coolidge grabs onto Teresa's ankles and slides her out of the way! Kerry Windsor smashes face-first onto the canvas!
Steve Hebert: What an idiot!
Lex Robinson: He doesn't even have a second to recover, either; as Jake Norton is immediately on him, kicking him in the back of his skull. After that flying cutter off Kelvin's shoulders that was delivered to him from Chelsea, I'm surprised he can even stand.
Steve Hebert: He fell 6 feet onto his face. Think about it.
His face is a little bruised and swollen, but that doesn't stop Jake Norton from lifting Kerry up and trying to dump him over the top rope. However, Kerry clings onto the top rope, making sure he remains in the match.
Lex Robinson: Kerry is hanging in there.
Steve Hebert: Goddamnit, Jake Norton, you useless prick, toss him to the floor! Throw him out like a sack of dicks.
Lex Robinson: Here comes Kelvin...
Kelvin Coolidge sneaks up behind Jake Norton, looking like a dirtbag pederast. He grabs Jake from behind and throws him over the top rope! Both Kerry and Jake fall to the apron, still in the match.
Lex Robinson: He makes it close, but Jake and Kerry are still in the match. In fact, they stand on the apron, exchanging chops, punches and other shots with each other. Kerry grabs onto Jake's arm, hoping to hip-toss him to the floor, but Jake holds on to the top rope. Alternatively, Jake knees Kerry in his own right leg, taking advantage of the prior damage done to him.
Steve Hebert: Now that's a great idea! Heave that faggot to the floor!
After taking a rest on the other side of the ring, Stevie Swing comes to her feet, reeling from the damage done to her from the previous move from Travis Miller, and walks over to Kerry Windsor and Jake Norton. Jumping onto the adjacent middle rope, she leaps back, connecting with a back-springboard dropkick to Kerry Windsor, smacking him against Jake Norton!
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing comes dangerously close to eliminating both Kerry and Jake Norton!
Steve Hebert: If only.
Lex Robinson: Fortunately, both of them are able to maintain their balance on the ringside apron, with Jake Norton dipping back into the ring by rolling in over the middle rope. As for Kerry Windsor, he turns around, punches Stevie in the face and bashes her skull off the top turnbuckle pad. Slingshotting back inside, Kerry nails a reverse-lungblower on Stevie, bringing her down hard onto his knees! But wait, he grimaces in pain after she lands on his right knee. That may not be good.
Steve Hebert: If we're lucky, he'll need an amputation.
Lex Robinson: Not good at all.
In the center of the ring, Travis Miller and Teresa Quaranta crawl toward each other, in a world of hurt. While on their knees, they begin exchanging punches, chops, slaps and forearms.
Lex Robinson: Travis and Teresa are now slugging it out in the middle of the ring.
Travis nails a stiff forearm to the bridge of Teresa's nose, watering her eyes...
Lex Robinson: The fans cheer for Travis!
Teresa fires back with a chop to his neck, followed by a chop to the chest...
Steve Hebert: But these disrespectful fucks boo Teresa! What shitheads. I hope they all get cancer.
Lex Robinson: Taking those blows, Travis returns with some punches, with both competitors getting to their feet. Miller's forearms back Teresa against the ropes. He takes a step back and goes to clothesline her over the top rope and to the floor...
Steve Hebert: No! She ducks! He goes behind her, near the ropes... she nails a spinning-backfist, which dizzies him! She jumps up and nails a spinning Roundhouse Kick, which sweeps him over the top rope and sends him to the floor! Goodbye, T-Mill, you douche!
Lex Robinson: Teresa Quaranta has eliminated Travis Miller!
Steve Hebert: Hahaha, way to add insult to injury.
Landing on the floor, Travis Miller looks disappointed. He slaps his hands off the apron and heads to the back, not having the outcome he desired. As he heads backstage, he slaps the hands of several fans, finally passing through the curtain and entering the back.
Lex Robinson: As Travis walks to the back, Teresa smirks at his elimination. However, she is quickly surprised when Kelvin Coolidge comes up behind her and goes to dump her over the top rope!
Steve Hebert: Agh! No!
Lex Robinson: She hangs on, though; skinning the cat as she does so! Kelvin doesn't realize his, so he turns his back... and she's pulling herself back up!
Steve Hebert: She's using her legs to grab onto him from behind! She's locking in the Tarantula! This is worse than the time Kelvin put a brown recluse down his pants just to see what would happen! Suffice to say, it wasn't pretty.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidge is hooked in place, unable to escape! Seeing this, everyone else in the match comes over and starts taking shots on Kelvin! Jake Norton punches him several times.
Steve Hebert: Kerry Windsor is here, as well. And he's giving Kelvin some shots to the head, as well. What a scumbag. Even Chelsea is here and she's repeatedly kicking him in the crotch. Ugh!
Lex Robinson: Serves him right.
Steve Hebert: Hey, that's my line!
Lex Robinson: Well, it fits. If Kelvin didn't want to be treated this way, then he wouldn't act the way he does.
Steve Hebert: That's preposterous.
As Chelsea Pryce hammers away at Kelvin Coolidge's face, Stevie Swing gets to her feet behind the crowd gathered around Kelvin, who is still caught in the Tarantula. Breathing hard, she struts over, with her nose in the air.
Steve Hebert: Oh, goodie. Stevie is here to save the day for Kelvin.
Stevie pushes Jake Norton aside, turns to Kerry Windsor and bites him in the arm, giving him a punch in the face, as well. Yanking onto Chelsea Pryce's hair, Stevie pulls her back and slaps her across the face, as well!
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing DDTs Chelsea Pryce!
Steve Hebert: She's saving Kelvin Coolidge! I knew it!
Just as Stevie rises back up, though, she faces Kelvin, pauses and looks around at the crowd, who want her to strike.
Steve Hebert: Kick Teresa Quaranta in the head! Make her stop with that ridiculous, upside-down hold! She's no spider!
Lex Robinson: The fans want her to blast Kelvin Coolidge, though.
Steve Hebert: No! Fuck that. Attack Teresa. Stevie Swing doesn't like Mexicans. C'mon.
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing is punching at Kelvin Coolidge, too! She's going nuts, punching at his face!
Steve Hebert: What?! How dare she! Think about those sex tape sales! She can't do this!
Lex Robinson: Oh, trust me. She is.
Teresa Quaranta soon relinquishes her hold on Kelvin, allowing him to drop onto the canvas. From this position, he is stomped on by Stevie, who turns her attention towards Teresa as she slides back into the ring.
Lex Robinson: Finished stomping on Kelvin--...
Steve Hebert: [interjecting] Thank God.
Lex Robinson: ...Stevie turns to Teresa Quaranta and begins kicking at her. If you remember back to How the Horatio Stole Christmas, it was Stevie Swing that defeated Teresa Quaranta for the World Title. Can she do the same and steal the Sin Trophy away, too.
Steve Hebert: Don't be silly. That was 4 months ago. Most of our fans can't remember what happened 4 days ago.
Lex Robinson: That's subjective.
Pulling Teresa up to her feet, Stevie chops her in the throat and corners her. In here, she kicks Teresa, forcing her down to her rear-end.
Lex Robinson: The Television Champion is kicking away at the Ultraviolence Champ, stomping her face into the turnbuckles. Stevie is about to use the middle rope to elevate herself; but wait... here comes Jake Norton!
From behind, Jake waistlocks Stevie and goes to release German suplex him. Fortunately for the TV Champ, she is able to backflip in mid-air and land safely on her feet!
Lex Robinson: Stevie avoids landing on her head by pulling out a move from The Matrix! She and Jake Norton get up and charge at each other...! Last Dance superkick from Stevie Swing--...
Steve Hebert: HEADSHOT!
At the same time, Stevie Swing and Jake Norton superkick each other. Stevie staggers back, walking right into a release Tiger Suplex from Kerry Windsor! Jake Norton, coincidentally, staggers back, falling in front of Teresa Quaranta, squishing her in the corner!
Lex Robinson: They connect with superkicks! Each of them flying back, Stevie into Kerry Windsor's clutches; and Jake Norton falling into Teresa!
Steve Hebert: What a double-shot! And poor Stevie... she goes right into Kerry Windsor's filthy pedophile hands.
Lex Robinson: Chelsea Pryce has recovered from a Stevie Swing DDT, too. She's in the corner adjacent of Teresa and Jake Norton. There's one problem: Kelvin Coolidge is on his hands and knees, blocking her path. There's only one way to remedy that...
Sprinting forward, Chelsea Pryce uses Kelvin Coolidge as a launching pad, as she jumps onto his back and springs towards Jake Norton and Teresa Quaranta, who remain seated in the corner. As gravity takes its effect, she extends her legs and connects with a falling-dropkick, which almost sends her sliding out of the ring, having nearly buzzed their face off!
Lex Robinson: That kick echoes throughout the arena! I think she may have broken their face!
Steve Hebert: Oh shit, call a plastic surgeon.
Pulling herself back into the ring and into a standing base, Chelsea turns around, views Kerry Windsor struggling to get back up after dropping Stevie and charges at him.
Lex Robinson: And now Chelsea sweeps Kerry off his feet with a lariat takedown, which she follows up by applying an STF! That's going to put pressure on his already injured leg!
Steve Hebert: Sounds good to me. If only there could be pressure on his testicles. Can you imagine Kerry Windsor's testicles eruption, splattering all over the place? Blood, cum and guido everywhere.
Lex Robinson: Fresh off being used as a punching bag and then as a springboard, Kelvin Coolidge rises. He notices Teresa and Norton still laying in the corner, TQ almost spooning Jake.
Steve Hebert: She likes to press her womb against men.
Lex Robinson: Giving a grand kick at Jake Norton's head, Kelvin rolls him aside, turns to Teresa, grabs her by the hair and forces her up.
Steve Hebert: He even punches her in the vagina. Some revenge for that Tarantula, no doubt. Side-headlocking her, he gives her a noogie! Goddamn, that's the most painful move in the history of professional wrestling!
Lex Robinson: Luckily for Teresa, though, she lowblows Kelvin! That's good enough to earn her release from that headlock. Taking a breather, she turns him around... and then hits the Compass Rose!
Steve Hebert: Teresa Quaranta, the Ultraviolence Champion, has laid out Kelvin Coolidge! She has him parallel to the corner and is calling for her move, Divine Intervention! She springs onto the middle rope and goes to jump onto the top--... wait...!
Lex Robinson: Jake Norton is up! He comes from behind Teresa and pushes her from behind, tossing her over the top rope and to the floor! Teresa Quaranta has been eliminated by Jake Norton!
An enraged Teresa Quaranta tries to climb back inside the ring, but is held back by the officials. She looks up, seeing a smirking Jake Norton wave at her, getting a great cheer from the audience.
Steve Hebert: This is not right! She didn't see it coming! It's not like she has eyes in the back of her head!
Lex Robinson: Hey, Jake Norton saw the opportunity and he capitalized. It was a good move, in my books.
Steve Hebert: I piss on your books! This is awful!
As Jake turns around, Teresa pushes the referees away from her, hops back up onto the ring apron and grabs onto Jake from behind. Seeing this, Chelsea Pryce releases her STF on Kerry Windsor, gets to her feet and rushes over to Jake Norton. Instead of keeping him inside, she grabs his legs and aides Teresa in pulling him to the floor!
Lex Robinson: Wait-- no!
Steve Hebert: Haha, serves him right! See, now it's my turn to use that phrase.
Teresa and Jake Norton are forced to the back, with the Ultraviolence Champion looking content at what she has caused. They bicker back and forth, almost coming to blows, as they retreat to the backstage area, not happy with what has happened.
Lex Robinson: Boy, Teresa Quaranta is pissed. She got her revenge, though. To her, that was almost as good as winning.
Steve Hebert: Winning would have been really friggin' nice, though. She could have taken that trophy and challenged Chris Carson for the next pay per view.
Lex Robinson: Either way, only 4 people remain. Chelsea Pryce, Stevie Swing, Kerry Windsor and Kelvin Coolidge. Chelsea turns around, having aided in eliminating Jake Norton, only to witness Stevie Swing run at her, going for a clothesline! Chelsea, however, ducks down, swings around Stevie and reverse-waistlocks her. Chelsea goes to hoist Stevie up, Stevie halts it, trying to ground herself. It isn't until Kelvin Coolidge bounces off the ropes and returns with The Hangover that Chelsea is able to hit Stevie with a stalling German suplex!
Steve Hebert: Jesus, that was a mouthful, Lex.
Lex Robinson: Chelsea may have needed some help from Kelvin in getting Stevie up, but she sure isn't receiving any, now. Kelvin is quick to get back up, lunge at her and attack with knees, kicks and various other strikes. Turning her around, he goes for a Vertebreaker... but Chelsea flips back and lands on her feet! From behind, she locks on a Cobra-Clutch!
Steve Hebert: Oh Jesus. Kelvin writhes about, trying to get the fuck away from Chelsea's hold; but it's no good! She brings him down to one knee!
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing, finally rising from being walloped with a kick from Jake Norton, stands in the corner, observing this. She darts forward, jumps off Kelvin Coolidge's knee and jumps on Chelsea Pryce's shoulders! She hurricanranas Chelsea, but Chelsea rolls through, holds on to Stevie's legs... and STFs her, as well!
Yelps are coming from Stevie, who struggles to free herself from Chelsea's clutches. She wiggles about, looking for an opening, seeing Kerry Windsor rise in front of her. Within seconds, Kerry hops up onto one leg, his right leg still injured.
Lex Robinson: Kerry delivers a sit-down dropkick to the face of Stevie Swing, who is caught in the STF!
Steve Hebert: Argh, that prick!
Lex Robinson: He gets back up... but grabs ahold of Chelsea and applies a side-headlock!
Steve Hebert: Yeah, but Kelvin Coolidge stumbles over, in an awkward daze, and applies a Triangle Chokehold on Kerry Windsor! It's like an orgy of submissions in there. Like one, giant pretzel.
Still locked in the STF, Stevie rolls about, eventually rolling Chelsea onto her back, which incidentally drags Kerry Windsor over, as well. Kelvin Coolidge rolls with the flow, still with Kerry locked in the Triangle Choke, trying to wear him down. Thanks to this rolling, though, Stevie is the first person out and she gets to her feet.
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing has freed herself! The first thing she does is turn around and go after Kelvin Coolidge!
As the Triangle Choke is still applied, Kelvin is locked into a Dragon Sleeper from Stevie!
Lex Robinson: And the chain continues!
Steve Hebert: Now it's like some sort of big worm.
Lex Robinson: This lessens the hold on Kerry, who gets distracted, resulting Chelsea breaking free from him! She rolls to her feet, walks up to Stevie and applies a standing kneebar to her!
Steve Hebert: What the--...?!
Lex Robinson: And now Kerry Windsor has been released. He goes to Chelsea and front-facelocks her, trying to apply a guillotine submission!
Steve Hebert: Now it's Kelvin on one end; and Kerry at the other!
Lex Robinson: Luckily for Kelvin, he fights off the Dragon Sleeper, gets to his feet... and manages to back everyone into the corner! Stevie stumbles out, but she is dropped with a violent right-handed cross from Kelvin. Chelsea comes out now. He goes to strike her, but stops. He puckers up and kisses her!
Steve Hebert: Not again!
In the corner, Kerry Windsor views this and comes charging out, as fast as someone on wheel can go.
Lex Robinson: They both elbow Kerry Windsor!
Steve Hebert: That douche was probably looking for some threesome-action!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin kicks Kerry in the gut! Stunner! He stuns Kerry Windsor!
Steve Hebert: Look at Chelsea Pryce. She's admiring Kelvin's decision.
As Kerry Windsor rolls into the corner, in pain, Kelvin gets to his feet, happy with what he's just done. Chelsea turns Kelvin around, claps at him and asks him to help her throw Kerry to the floor.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidges with the stunner to Chelsea Pryce, too!
Steve Hebert: Oh, for fuck's sake!
Lex Robinson: Grabbing her by the hair, he lifts her up... and tosses her lifeless form to the floor!
Steve Hebert: She didn't expect that! She was supposed to use him to dispose of that chump, Kerry Windsor!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin got the upperhand; and it led to this: her elimination.
Steve Hebert: God damnit. GOD DAMNIT!
The referees help an abused Chelsea Pryce to her feet, aiding her in walking to the back. She can't believe what has happened. She looks up at Kelvin Coolidge, who blows kisses at her and retreats to the back, where she thinks about what just happened.
Steve Hebert: Only 3 people left! One person closer to me getting the hell out of here and beating traffic.
Lex Robinson: It has all come down to Kelvin Coolidge, Kerry Windsor and Stevie Swing. Which one of these 3 will be the Sin Trophy winner? Whoever wins, earns the challenge to challenge whomever they want at the next pay per view. This is big.
Kelvin Coolidge stands over a fallen Kerry Windsor, who is still bandaged from their previous encounter. Bending over, he lifts Kerry up, tosses him against the ropes and begins to choke him.
Lex Robinson: Kelvin is literally trying to choke Kerry Windsor out of the ring and to the floor.
Steve Hebert: It might work!
Stevie, being sneaky, comes up behind Kelvin and kicks his left leg out from under him, thus stopping his choke/elimination attempt on Kerry. Before turning her attention to Kelvin, Stevie gives Kerry Windsor a hard stomp to the right leg and even begins bending it around the middle rope.
Lex Robinson: Stevie nails some kicks to Kerry's leg, turns around and grabs Kelvin Coolidge. Picking Kelvin up, she whips him into the corner and follows in with a running high-knee, smashing against his chest. Using the flow, Stevie springs to the outer portion of the apron, allowing Kelvin to stumble forward, struggling to breathe.
Steve Hebert: She should be careful. If she had leapt any further, she would have fell out to the floor.
Lex Robinson: She's heightening the danger by climbing to the top rope...
Steve Hebert: Stevie Swing flies off the top rope, nailing a flying dropkick to the back of Kelvin's skull, sending him sprawling into the opposite corner! In here, Kelvin smashes against the turnbuckle pads, with Stevie coming in behind him. Using all of her strength -- which is a lot because she is a Jew -- she is able to sit him on the top rope. This is too dangerous for me.
Up here, Stevie and Kelvin struggle for positioning, with Stevie attempting a superplex. Holding on to the top rope, Kelvin refuses to fall, hanging on for dear life. In the meantime, Kerry Windsor has stumbled up to the duo and grabs hold of Stevie from behind.
Lex Robinson: Kerry Windsor has joined the fray, as well.
Steve Hebert: That retard can barely even stand. What is he doing in here?
Lex Robinson: Stevie, though, responds to Kerry's badgering by giving him a simple, but effective, stomp to the face! As a result, Kerry stumbles back, holding his sinus cavity, while dropping to his knees.
Steve Hebert: He shouldn't have interfered.
Lex Robinson: Let me guess... he had it coming?
Steve Hebert: Yes! Obviously!
Thanks to this distraction, Kelvin latches onto Stevie and goes to superplex him from inside of the ring... to the outside!
Steve Hebert: Holy Jesus, is Kelvin trying to superplex Stevie to the outside?! That'd kill her! That would mean no more sex tapes... unless Kelvin fucks her corpse, which is likely probable; but still!
Lex Robinson: Stevie is hanging on, refusing to be lifted. She holds tightly onto the top rope, trying to keep her ground, while Kelvin repeatedly tries to heave her through the air. Wait... he gets her up...
Instead of throwing Stevie from the ring, Kelvin tosses her forward, flies through the air and front-suplexes her across the top rope, leaving her hung out to dry!
Lex Robinson: Ow! Stevie's abdomen comes crashing down across the ring ropes! Those are just like cables! That's killer.
Steve Hebert: Oh my God. I think that may have snapped her ovaries off.
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing is laying across the top rope, coughing out loud, spitting up some blood! In front of her, Kelvin is on his knees, trying to recover, seeing a crippled Kerry Windsor come at him. Kerry uses his injured leg to kick at Kelvin; but his leg is grabbed and Kelvin manages to sweep him off his leg with a trip. From here, Kelvin drops an elbow across Kerry's leg, hoping to stop his high-flying ability. Kelvin gets back up, taking a stumbling Kerry Windsor with him and whips him into the ropes...
Steve Hebert: He can barely run, though!
Lex Robinson: You're right. Kerry is able to grab onto the top rope, holding herself from bouncing back! Annoyed with this, Kelvin throws up his hands... only to run at Kerry...!
Steve Hebert: Oh no...! Kerry Windsor with a very weak superkick! It doesn't take Kelvin down, though, thank Christ.
Lex Robinson: Nope. Instead, Kelvin stumbles back, with Kerry temporarily saving himself. Injured leg and all, Kerry stomps towards Kelvin... only to be thrown into the air...! Kerry Windsor is able to perform a complete 360 degree front-flip and nail a guillotine legdrop to the back of Stevie Swing's head as she lays across the top rope!
Stevie rolls into the corner, holding her stomach and neck, feeling the pain tingle throughout her body, straight to her fingertips. On the other hand, Kerry Windsor rolls around, feeling the damage done to his right leg, trying his best to stand. Kelvin, turning around, views Kerry in pain, smiles and walks towards him.
Lex Robinson: Like a voracious animal, Kelvin Coolidge hunts down Kerry Windsor, who slides into the corner, trying to keep away from him. Licking his chops, Kelvin reaches down, grabs onto Kerry's ankles and tries to pull him out of the corner. Kerry hangs on tightly, though, not wanting Kelvin to take him away, wanting himself to maintain control. With one great tug, Kelvin goes to yank him away from the corner... but Kerry is able to flip up to his feet!
Steve Hebert: He lands awkwardly on his leg, though! That's good to see, at least!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin ducks down, going for that right leg, wanting to take it out from Kerry, who blocks the attempt. Alternatively, Kelvin lifts Kerry up onto his shoulder and holds him against the ropes, trying to throw him overboard.
Steve Hebert: That shithead, Kerry Windsor, is hanging on by facelocking Kelvin Coolidge! He just won't quit, bad leg and all!
Slamming his fist off Kerry's chest, Kelvin hopelessly tries to dump him to the floor, but to no avail. Refusing to fall outside, Kerry hangs on, using his healthy left leg to wrap around the middle rope, keeping him safe.
Lex Robinson: Kerry has developed a sound strategy, too. Wrapping whatever body part he can use around the ropes, he's able to remain afloat, keeping him from facing elimination.
Steve Hebert: He can't hang on forever... can he?
Lex Robinson: If need be, he just might. Kelvin isn't going to wait, though. Plucking Kerry away from the ropes, he throws him in the corner and begins to assault his leg some more. Next, he goes for an Irish-whip across the ring... but Kerry's leg gives out!
Steve Hebert: Hah! He's a goddamn cripple!
Lex Robinson: Oh no, this is not good at all. He can't even stand. All Kelvin can do is laugh at him--...
Steve Hebert: I don't blame him. His feeble attempts to stand are hilarious. He's like a 90 year old.
Lex Robinson: That certainly doesn't stop Kelvin from grabbing onto his leg and kicking at it. He's like some sort of sick serial killer toying with its victim. He's hovering over Kerry, letting him rise... only to kick his leg out from beneath him. This is sick.
Steve Hebert: This is hilarious, Lex. Don't be so uptight.
Still playing with Kerry, Kelvin lets his opponent from earlier tonight rise to his feet. He swings his right arm at Kerry, but the shot is ducked by a lucky Windsor, who nails some punches of his own, going fist-for-fist with Kelvin!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin and Kerry are going at it, striking each other in an all-out brawl! Stevie Swing, in the meantime, rests against the corner, watching these two punch the hell out of one another.
Steve Hebert: That's a good, smart move. Let them wear each other down; and then move in for the kill. That's my type of gameplan.
Lex Robinson: In a last ditch effort to remain standing, Kerry strikes with some more punches, overtaking Kelvin. He backs up... and launches a clothesline, but that gets ducked! Kelvin goes behind Kerry and--...
Steve Hebert: Red mist to the eyes!
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing steps out of the corner, out of nowhere, and blows that mist into Kelvin Coolidge's eyes! Kerry Windsor comes from behind Kelvin, grabs him by the neck... and heaves him over the top rope!
Steve Hebert: No! No! ...No! Kelvin remains on the ring apron! He's still alive! He's temporarily blinded, but he's still in this thing!
Both Stevie and Kerry go to attack Kelvin, wanting to knock him off the apron. In the process, they manage to bump into each other, with Stevie hastily going after Kerry's right leg!
Steve Hebert: Stevie knows right where to attack, as she kicks Kerry's right leg out from beneath him. Remember, Stevie has lost two straight matches against Windsor, officially ending her winning streak each time. She wants some sweet revenge. Breaking his leg will certainly do that. At this point, I'd almost say it'd be better than becoming the second-ever 2-time winner.
Lex Robinson: She should have just focused on getting Kelvin Coolidge out of here. He's rolling back inside and he's not happy!
Steve Hebert: He needs to wipe that... that gook... out of his eyes. And no, I'm not talking about Asians.
Lex Robinson: What the--...?
Steve Hebert: That mist is still in his eyes. Upon seeing Kelvin back inside, Stevie dashes toward him, going for The Last Dance...! No! He side-steps it! Instead, he grabs her by the head and flings her over the top rope!
Lex Robinson: She skins the cat!
Steve Hebert: She's skinning her pussy! She has given herself a clitoral circumcision!
Lex Robinson: Stevie hangs from the top rope, barely able to keep herself from falling to the floor! It's so close! Rubbing that mist out of his eyes, Kelvin begins to pry her hands free of the top rope, but Stevie is holding tightly on!
Some punches are even given to Stevie from Kelvin, trying to get her to fall. It's all no dice, though. Stevie remains dangling from the top rope. With no other choice, she brings her legs up, much like Teresa Quaranta did earlier in the match, and wraps them around Kelvin's head!
Steve Hebert: Wait... wait! Stevie is scissoring Kelvin's head!
Lex Robinson: If she goes out, she'll take him with her.
Steve Hebert: Oh no. Don't do that. We can't have Kerry Windsor win. That'd be sickening!
Lex Robinson: It just might happen! The fans are going nuts!
Steve Hebert: Kelvin's hanging on...! Don't go...!
Wobbling to his feet, inside of the ring, Kerry views Kelvin nearing disaster. Using some fast thinking, he dives towards the ropes, giving Kelvin one huge push over the top rope! This shove is enough to enable Stevie to pull him over the ropes and to the floor, where Kelvin lands on his back!
Steve Hebert: Oh, no! Kerry Windsor, you faggot! If not for you, Kelvin would have escaped from that! But now? Now... now... he's flat on his back, on the floor, having come up short! This is not right!
Lex Robinson: Kelvin Coolidge has been eliminated! No Sin Trophy for him!
Steve Hebert: Don't rub it in. Oh God.
On the floor, Kelvin gets to a kneeling position, looking absolutely annoyed about the elimination. Stunned, he grabs a steel chair from the front row, threatens to strike one of the referees with it and rolls back inside. In here, Kerry Windsor becomes the focus of his attack, nailing him several times in the right leg with the chair, pouring the damage on thick!
Steve Hebert: Yes! Get in there and break that goddamn chair across Kerry Windsor's leg! Everything is his fault. From Chelsea Pryce going nutso, to you being eliminated! Take it all out on him!
Lex Robinson: Oh no... get him out of here. He's supposed to be eliminated!
Steve Hebert: He's not finished!
Lex Robinson: This should not be happening!
Steve Hebert: But it is! Wham! And not the homosexual 80's band, either. Kelvin Coolidge smashes away at Kerry Windsor's right leg, leaving him a crippled mess! He's wailing out in pain with each shot Kelvin gives him!
Over and over, Kelvin smashes the chair off Kerry's leg. Using the edge of the seat, he jams it into Kerry's kneecap, tosses the chair aside and then exits the ring, to a chorus of jeers.
Lex Robinson: Get out of here! How could he do that?! He needs to suck it up and deal with it, for god's sake.
Steve Hebert: He had it coming! They all have it coming!
Lex Robinson: We're down to the final two. I can't believe it's going to end like this. Only Stevie Swing and Kerry Windsor remain. Kerry, I do believe, can't even walk. He's down on the canvas, in a quivering mess, unable to stand.
Steve Hebert: Haha, I know. How pathetic.
Slithering back into the ring, Stevie looks up, noticing Kerry on the canvas, screeching out in pain. A smile slips across her face and she climbs to her feet, happy to take advantage of Kerry's position. Walking across the ring, she stands over him, bends over and commences slapping him across the face.
Steve Hebert: Stevie is laughing at Kerry's expense; and so am I. Slap that NAMBLA-loving faggot silly.
Lex Robinson: This is so hard to digest. Stevie has it in the bag.
Steve Hebert: No, she has no bag, Lex. Remember?
Lex Robinson: Uh, no... I mean... I don't know what I mean. In any event, Stevie kicks at Kerry's leg, scoops him up and brings him back down with a Shining Boot to the face!
Steve Hebert: Not only does Kerry have to deal with the leg injury, but now he gets booted in the face. Fucking great.
Grabbing onto Kerry's leg, Stevie threatens to go for a Dancing Toe Hold. Her mind soon changes. She looks into the corner, walks towards the turnbuckles and begins to climb to the top rope.
Lex Robinson: That was a quick decision by Stevie, who is now climbing to the top turnbuckle. She should have just kept punishing Kerry's leg.
Steve Hebert: Fuck that. She's just going to jump on his leg. By the time he's finished, Kerry Windsor is going to be less mobile than Christopher Reeve currently is.
Lex Robinson: Uh...
Steve Hebert: Yes, I know. He's going to be crippled AND dead!
Lex Robinson: Gotcha.
Pulling out a Yamaka from her tights, Stevie Swing salutes the crowd and soars through the air.
Steve Hebert: Five Star of David!
...But Kerry Windsor moves!
Lex Robinson: No! Kerry rolls out of the way! He does the last thing he can manage and rolls to safety! Stevie faceplants onto the canvas!
Steve Hebert: Oh no. Oh, my Jesus no.
Lex Robinson: This is the chance Kerry needs! He just needs to find a way -- any way -- to get to his feet! Make it happen! Please...
Steve Hebert: There's just no way.
Both Kerry and Stevie begin to stir, each competitor taking several seconds to regain their wits. Kerry, of course, is only on one leg, unable to stand on his right. Stevie, obviously, is able to stand completely to her feet, feeling the after-effects of landing on her face.
Lex Robinson: They're both up! Kerry hops towards Stevie, grabs her by the head and bashes her face off the turnbuckle pads. He doesn't strike her face off it once... but twice... three times... four times... over and over... the fans are eating it up!
Steve Hebert: They need to eat a bullet. This is awful!
Lex Robinson: Stevie is backed against the ropes and is whipped across the ring. She comes storming back, ducking beneath a clothesline. She goes straight for the next set of ropes, only to try for a tilt-a-whirl headscissors takedown! Luckily for Kerry, he tosses her aside, throwing her violently to the ground.
Steve Hebert: Like how he did to Chelsea Pryce, that wifebeater!
Lex Robinson: As she goes to stand back up, Kerry grabs her, hoists her up and fallaway slams her to the canvas! Come on, Kerry. Stay on the attack.
Steve Hebert: No. Just no. Fight him off, Stevie. Holy fuck almighty.
With the fans egging him on, Kerry pulls Stevie to her feet, chops her across the chest several times and backs her against the ropes.
Lex Robinson: Again, Kerry whips Stevie into the ropes. He ducks down, waiting for her to return, but she jumps over his attempted backdrop! Grabbing him from behind, she leads him towards the ropes, attempting to heave him overboard... but his injured leg actually helps him! Go figure.
Steve Hebert: Damnit! He falls to his knees, with Stevie unable to get him up and over. Try harder, Stevie! Goddamnit!
Lex Robinson: Hopping up, Kerry clobbers Stevie with some stiff punches, knocking her back. Gingerly stepping on his injured leg, Kerry tosses Stevie into the corner and begins pounding away at her, with the crowd cheering him on!
Steve Hebert: No! This can't happen! Fight your way out of this, Stevie!
Lex Robinson: With one great swoop, Kerry sits Stevie on the top rope and nails her with an uppercut! Yes! This could be the end. Kerry is climbing up alongside Stevie...
Up here, Kerry holds Stevie upside-down...
Lex Robinson: Air Raid Crash from the top rope! This is it! Kerry Windsor is going to do it! He has taken out Stevie Swing!
Steve Hebert: Goddamnit, no!
Lex Robinson: Stevie is out! All Kerry needs to do is pick her up and throw her outside.
Quite slowly, Kerry stands, his right leg nearly immobilizing him. Hoisting up an incapacitated Stevie Swing, Kerry drags her near the ropes, hoping to slingshot her to the floor.
Lex Robinson: This is going to be it! Here we go...
Kerry Windsor grabs both of Stevie's legs, about to launch her over the ropes and to the floor. He drops back, sending her flying with a slingshot...
Lex Robinson: Stevie soars over the top rope...
...
Steve Hebert: But she lands on the apron! Oh, thank Jesus!
Lex RObinson: She is teetering on the edge, about to go down...! All Kerry needs to do is stand up and knock her off...!
Steve Hebert: His leg is slowing him down...
Once he finally rises, Kerry walks over to Stevie and is about to knock him to the floor. Before he can, Stevie turns around and blocks a punch from him. Using some rapid movement, she slides back into the ring, slipping between Kerry's legs...
Steve Hebert: Stevie is back inside! She jumps up...
Lex Robinson: Oh no... The Last Dance! Kerry Windsor goes soaring over the top rope, tumbling all the way to the floor! Stevie Swing wins! Stevie Swing is now a two-time Sin Trophy winner!
Steve Hebert: Yes! Fuck yes! It's not Kerry Windsor; and that's good enough for me!
Collapsing to the canvas in total ecstasy, Stevie Swing receives a mixed ovation from the fans. Some people jeer her; the others cheer, confusing her. On the floor, Kerry Windsor sits, being attended to by random officials, having his knee checked out. They pick him off the floor, thanks to him being unable to stand.
Steve Hebert: Kerry Windsor, who had been a thorn in Stevie Swing's side, finally gets what he deserves! Stevie Swing has taken this cocksucker out. It's about goddamn time.
The Department of H.A.R.M. come to the ring, climb inside and lift Stevie Swing up onto their shoulders. Stevie Swing continues to receive a mixed ovation as a referee hands her the Sin Trophy, while being held in the air. She holds it high above her head, listening to the crowd's reaction.
Lex Robinson: Stevie Swing and Morgana. These are the only two people that have twice been crowned the Sin Trophy winner. The only two that have been victorious in these battle royales. Congratulations to Stevie Swing!
As the celebration is underway in the ring, everyone's attention turns towards the entrance. Chris Carson is standing at the entrance, holding the World Title around his waist and is using a crutch to help himself stand. He looks at Stevie Swing in the ring, shakes his head and looks despondent.
The image fades out, last showing Stevie in absolute glory.