WFWF Presents Black Friday - Results!

Christa Adina: The following Black Friday Proving Ground contest is scheduled for one fall, introducing first, standing 5’10 and weighing 215 lbs… Axel Thornstowe!


Axel Thornstowe is already in the ring, hopping from one foot to the next. He’d probably have made an entrance if he’d handed in some kind of description to the production dudes.


Alecia Matthews: That entrance brought a tear to my ear.


Samael Ahriman: Axel’s another guy I wouldn’t be, how you say, apropos to joining our fold, Donnie.


DMK: Yawn. This is another match I couldn’t give a sh*t about.


Samael Ahriman: Why?


DMK: Give it a second.


Christa Adina: And his opponent…


Samael Ahriman: Oh…yeah. Him. And that Trace Demon stank.


DMK: It’s everywhere.


The arena lights go out, for a few seconds complete silence sweeps over the WFWF fans. Then 'Lose It' blasts around the arena, as Joe Bishop emerges in the entrance way to a heated response. The three time National Champion looks completely focused on the task at hand as he marches down the ramp, his eyes drawn to the ring. The Englishman doesn't allow the tirade of abuse he's receiving distract him from the task at hand, he climbs up the ring steps and enters the ring. Bishop is left completely still in the middle of the ring as the music fades, the lights return, and he is ready to take on his opponent.


Christa Adina: Representing The Final Revolution, hailing from Wimbledon, England, standing at 6’1 and weighing 195lbs… Joe Bishop!


DING! DING! DING!


The bell signals the start of the match and the moment it rings Thornstowe charges forwards, looking to catch Bishop off guard like a battering ram. Joe’s experienced though and he’s got the speed to duck out of the way, Axel ending up smashing right into the turnbuckle chest first. Bishop grabs him quickly, swinging him around, pushing him back first into the corner and then quickly going to work on the body with rights and lefts. It’s a smart move to try and wind Thornstowe but not one that pays off as the stocky rookie nails Bishop with a stiff headbutt that sends him backing up. Axel shakes off the blows and goes on offence, unloading with some stiff forearm blows before going for an Irish whip of his own that sends Bishop into the ropes. Thornstowe goes for a big clothesline but Bishop slides through the legs, pops up to his feet and then leaps up, hooking his legs around the head and sending Axel to the canvas with a hurricanrana.


Alecia Matthews: Hell of a hurricuranna there.


DMK: What the hell do you know about wrestling?


Samael Ahriman: What the hell do either of you know about wrestling? I’m watching an entertaining match.


DMK: This entertains you? We’ve got one of Demon’s ass buddies and some useless garbage that didn’t even get a proper entrance.


Samael Ahriman: When’s the last time Zmey’s come down to the ring with a proper entrance? Wanna talk about lazy people, Donnie, aren’t you supposed to be on top of that?


Joe Bishop continues his frantic pace as he pounces on Axel Thornstowe and begins unloading with right hands to the skull of the intimidating rookie. He knows he’s at a strength disadvantage and he’s trying to take the fight right to his opponent in the kind of way we’ve seen his mentor Trace Demon do time and time again. Axel Thornstowe however doesn’t much care who Joe’s learnt from and again drives his head right into Joe’s, sending him toppling off of him. Axel tries to shake off the right hands as both men climb to their feet, meeting each other upon them at the same time. Thornstowe strikes first this time with a boot right to the gut followed by a clubbing blow across the shoulder blades that drops the former three time National Champion to his knees. Axel positions himself behind Bishop, grabs him by the jaw and then begins to dig his fingernails right into the forehead of the Final Revolution member.


Samael Ahriman: Want to tell me again how Axel is useless? Guy looks really solid. He’s green, but he’s solid.


DMK: He’s not that good. He’s barely keeping pace with Bishop.


Alecia Matthews: Bishop is International Champion and ended Kirkbride’s undefeated streak here in the WFWF.


DMK: But he’s a member of that New Epoch knock off. If Trace likes you, you’re sh*t. So sh*t keeping up with bigger sh*t? Doesn’t really stand out to me.


Samael Ahriman: I question you sometimes.


DMK: If you want a paycheck you won’t do that.


Thornstowe waits out the count for four before releasing Bishop who grips his forehead in pain but as Joe lifts his head he finds that Axel’s run the ropes and becomes the victim of a vicious kick right to the skull that jolts his head back. Thornstowe grabs Joe by the head and drags him up onto his feet, lifting the lighter man up onto his shoulder facing down and then running for the corner, driving Bishop back first upside down into the turnbuckle purposefully to leave him hanging there by his legs. Axel positions himself on the opposite end of the ring and then charges across it, leaping up and going for a hesitation dropkick right to the skull in the corner but Bishop manages to pull himself up at the last moment. Axel hits nothing but the canvas and then Joe manages to free himself, the former International champion simply dropping back first right onto the chest of Axel with some impromptu offence. Bishop looks somewhat surprised himself at how he took Axel out but goes for the cover anyway.


…1…


…2…


KICK OUT!


Alecia Matthews: Kickout at 2!


Samael Ahriman: Nice!


DMK: Ehh…was a weak cover.


Joe looks disappointed that he didn’t put Axel away early and drags him up onto his feet, pulling him into a front chancery, hooking the arm and then delivering a big snap suplex to Axel that leaves the rookie lying right in front of the turnbuckle. Joe makes for the turnbuckle, climbing up the turnbuckle with the pace of a man comfortable up on high. He keeps his back to the ring, glancing back at Axel Thornstowe as he stands atop the turnbuckle, steadies himself and then leaps off backwards for the moonsault… only for Thornstowe to get his knees up! Bishop’s ribs slam into Axel’s knees and he bounces off, clutching his gut in pain. Axel’s quick to pounce as he rolls Bishop up…


…1…


…2…


KICK OUT!


Alecia Matthews: UPSET CENTRAL!


Samael Ahriman: Sooooo close.


DMK: Can’t quite say I would have been sad if he lost, but I still don’t really see why you care about Axel, Sam.


Samael Ahriman: Gotta learn to give people a shot, Don.


Bishop manages to kick Axel Thornstowe to break the count, keeping himself in the match with time to spare. Thornstowe, fighting through his own pain, slowly drags Joe up onto his feet. He drives a few stiff shots up into the already painful rib and then delivers a big Irish whip into the opposing corner. Bishop hits the turnbuckle back first with enough force to send him staggering back out where Axel catches him with a big running clothesline that drops Bishop like a brick. Axel doesn’t stop though as he turns, hits the turnbuckles back first himself and then leaps forward to come clattering down on top of Bishop with a highly unorthodox elbow drop. Axel goes for another cover.


…1…


…2…


KICK OUT!


Alecia Matthews: Almost!


DMK: Ok, I’ll give him his due. He’s at least keeping things interesting. Moreso than the scrub last match.


Samael Ahriman: You mean Shapiro?


DMK: No. Drakz.


Alecia Matthews: Shots fired.


Another kick out by Joe Bishop as he finds himself on the rope after his own moonsault failure. Still he intends to fight on but Thornstowe has his own ideas about that as he drags Bishop back up onto his feet and drives a knee into the gut to double him over. With that he runs the ropes, intending to deliver a kick right to the skull but as the leg goes up Bishop drops down, ducking underneath the leg, swivelling on the spot quickly and then rising up even quicker so that he’s got Axel’s legs on his shoulders. Bishop stands up straight, lifting Axel up into the air, before dropping backwards and driving him into the canvas with an Electric Chair Drop! The crowd pop loudly for the move because even if you hate a guy you’ve got to respect a crazy ass counter like that. Bishop climbs up onto his feet and then notices something up the ramp, a certain something that draws a pop from the crowd… Dave Demento.


DMK: Alright, more trash!


Samael Ahriman: You won’t hear an argument from me.


Alecia Matthews: Are you two really agreeing on something?


DMK: Are you really not in the kitchen?


Joe Bishop’s completely distracted by Dave Demento on the ramp, screaming at the International Champion to get to the ring and face him like a man. Demento just mockingly taunts him by shaking his head and saying he doesn’t feel like it. Bishop looks at him in disgust and turns around right into a running Busaiku Knee Kick! Bishop is knocked on his back and on the stage Demento chuckles to himself. Axel Thornstowe looks around at the crowd, then up towards the turnbuckle and then goes for the climb. He’s a bit unsteady, not renowned for going to the top rope after all, but wants to put on a display and gain himself that title shot and he’s going to do something crazy to do it.


Alecia Matthews: High rent district!


The time it takes Thornstowe to steady himself on the very top turnbuckle is exactly why he doesn’t do it often as it gives Joe Bishop the time to grab the official and pull him in the way to block Thornstowe, garnering huge boos from the crowd. Even more boos emerge as Kyle Matthews appears from out of nowhere, leaping up onto the ring apron and shoving Axel right off of it, Thornstowe goes neck first across, Matthews quickly leaping off of the apron and high tailing it through the crowd. As Thornstowe staggers backwards Bishop dives in, rolls Thornstowe up and the official, not quite sure what’s going on, goes for the count completely unaware that Bishop is now holding the tights.


…1…


…2…


…3!


Christa Adina: And your winner… Joe Bishop!


Alecia Matthews: Oh that was dirty.


Samael Ahriman: Oh come on ref, that was bullsh*t.


DMK: Yeah, I’m going to pretend I didn’t just waste ten minutes of my time watching this.


Samael Ahriman: If we have to suffer with the memories, so do you.


Following his match, Joe Bishop rises to his feet in the ring, clutching his ribs. He is met with lively boos from the crowd. Dave Demento meanwhile walks down to the ring and gets in the face of his number one contender, with a microphone in hand.


Dave Demento: I'm not going to come out here and say any bullsh*t about how we will tear the house down at The Clash, because we won't tear the house down. We won't be going out there to give these fans a good match. This is personal, Joe. I wan't it to be perfectly clear that when he walk into this ring in London, I am going to kick your ass. You wan't to play games by attacking me backstage when I'm not looking? Well, Joe, karma is a b*tch!


And with that, Dave drops the microphone and tackles Bishop to the ground! Dave unleashes a hell fury of punches as Bishop wiggles his way out of the ring. Big Dave makes the chase outside the ring as he runs towards Bishop. Joe takes notice as he kicks Demento in the gut, hunching him over. Bishop grabs his head and throws him in the guardrail. Demento bounces off the rail as Bishop goes on the attack. Joe lands some punches of his own.


DMK: Good. Kill each other.


Samael Ahriman: Yeah. Save us the trouble.


Bishop heads over to the timekeeper area as he looks for a chair, however Dave has returned to his feet and has made his way over to Bishop. Joe reaches the chair back behind his head, and as he went to make his mark on Dave's head, a member of the WFWF security team latches on the chair and pulls it away. A dozen other members of the security team stroll down to the ring as they look to separate the two rivals around the ring.


DMK: BOO.


The security team drags the two men to opposing side of the ringside area, Demento near the stage as Bishop remains in the timekeeper's area. The crowd erupts as Demento breaks free and charges towards the group that are holding Bishop back. Dave jumps up high up in the air and takes down every single member of the security along with Bishop! Dave unleashes a fury of punches once again on his opponent as more security guards make their way down to ringside.


Alecia Matthews: This is getting ridiculous.


Security peels Demento off the former champion and drag him away from the giant pile of flesh as Bishop has returned to his feet. He sets his sights on his rival as he takes speed and flies high up in the air now as he takes down that group of security and the current champion. Bishop unleashes some heavy kicks on Dave's head as some security members drag him away from his foe. More security personnel make their way down as they hold the two wrestlers back.


Samael Ahriman: Man these ‘security’ people Demon hires are useless. I will never make a joke about the MDS again.


DMK: Damn straight.


Jayson Garrett's pacing back and forth at the arena entrance. Chase Landon bursts through the doors.


Jayson Garrett: It's about time you got here. Where have you been?


Chase Landon: I saw you talking to the police so I left.


Jayson Garrett: Why would you leave?


Chase Landon: They've gotten to you. You are on their side. You've turned against me.


Jayson Garrett: That's ridiculous.


Chase Landon: Is it? I know they got to you so go ahead. Turn me in. Call them and let them know I'm here.


Jayson Garrett: Turn you in for what? What have you done?


Chase Landon: Oh come on. You know. Why else would they have been talking to you? I'm giving you the opportunity to do it. Call them and turn me in.


Jayson Garrett: How am I going to turn you in if I don't know what you've done?


Landon reaches in his pocket and pulls out a rock.


Chase Landon: Here. It's the proof I did it. Call them and turn me in.


Jayson Garrett: Proof you did what? Why did you hand me a rock?


Chase Landon: You need to get your eyes checked. That's clearly a badge.


Jayson Garrett: No, it's a rock. He laughs.


Chase Landon: You're blind.


Jayson Garrett: Chase, are you still on your meds?


Chase Landon: Are you saying I need them? I don't need them. Maybe you need some medicine. I'm not the one who thinks a badge is a rock.


Jayson Garrett: You're the one that thinks a rock is a badge.


Chase Landon: I don't need this. Are you going to turn me in or not?


Jayson Garrett: For having a rock? No.


Chase Landon: IT'S A BADGE!


Landon snatches the rock from Garrett and storms off.


Jayson Garrett: I better keep an eye on him.


Samael Ahriman: …o…..k….?


DMK: Thank God you’re facing the loonies and not me.


Samael Ahriman: I’m starting to second guess that choice myself, little guy.


DMK: bunghole.

Christa Adina: The following match is scheduled for one fall!


“This Will Be the Day” by Casey Lee Williams hits over the PA and the lights turn darker. The first guitar rift kicks in and Garrett steps out and flings the hood of his red zip-up hoodie off. Garrett psyches himself up while walking down the ramp and stops right before the chorus hits.


Christa Adina: First, making his way to the ring from Sacramento, California, he is one half of the WFWF Tag Team Champions, Jayson Garrett!


When it does hit, Garrett runs and slides into the ring and leaps to the far corner's second turnbuckle, throwing his jacket off in front of the announcer's table, landing in the face of DMK.


DMK: I’M GOING TO KILL YOU F*CKING F*G.


Alecia Matthews: You can’t say that on air.


DMK: F*CK YOU.


He repeats to the other turnbuckle closest to the announcer's table and screams "I am golden!" before stepping back down off the turnbuckle and into his corner. DMK flips Garett the middle finger. Lots of blurring and censoring…who’s idea was it to let him on commentary anyways?


“Cocaine” by Nightcore resonates throughout the arena as the lights go black.


DMK: Of course Trace didn’t pay the bill. Jewish c*nt.


Alecia Matthews: I almost started tolerating you for a minute.


Spotlight. Check. Dry ice. Check. Down on one knee, a man draped in all black is staring down at the ground. He stands up as the music picks up, unsheathing his katana form his side and spinning it around by its handle putting on a show under the spotlight. He stops when the end of the blade is pointing at the ring and his opponent Jayson Garrett, and then he sheathes his sword and begins his walk to the ring, the fans with a chorus of boos following him.


Christa Adina: And his opponent, from Ira, Vermont, representing the KoKaine Konspiracy, he is Samael Ahriman!


DMK: Kill this punk, Sam.


Alecia Matthews: You’ve got yourself quite the temper. Can you at least run down the match? Even Sam can do that.

DMK: In this match, two forces that will collide at The Clash will clash here on Black Friday as one half of the tag team champions, Jayson Garrett, representing Hollywood Unhinged, is taking on one half of his challengers, the grizzled veteran Samael Ahriman in a one fall to a finish match.


Alecia’s jaw hits the floor.


DMK: F*ck you too, bitch.


Samael slides in sideways under the ropes, standing in the center of the ring as the lights come back on, staring down Garrett. He clicks the end of his sword in and out of the sheathe, trying to mess with Garrett’s psyche. Jayson seems undeterred. Sam nods his head, untying the sword and handing it over to the ring assistant telling him to give it to Donnie as the ref calls for the bell.


DING DING DING!


Garrett and Samael circle the wagons, slapping at each others hands a few times. Samael goes in for a takedown which Garrett backs away from. He then reciprocates with a leg takedown of his own, and Samael backs his way out. Sam grabs ahold of Garrett’s arm and locks underneath. He lifts Jayson up with one arm, but Garrett gets his boots into the chest of Samael, pushing off and falling backwards, monkey flipping Samael who lands in a tumble, getting to his feet in a Judo stance, Garrett on the other end of the ring, ready for a fight.


Alecia Matthews: Stalemate.


DMK: Nah, Sam’s just working him over.


Samael steps forward and throws a right hook kick towards the head of Garrett, who Matrix’s away from it, tackling Sam’s plant leg from the side, Sam hitting the mat with a thud. Jayson hooks Ahriman’s head in a side lock, really wrenching in the torque.


Alecia Matthews: This is not the style of wrestling we’re accustomed to seeing from Jayson Garrett. He never takes it to the mat.


DMK: I want to know what the hell Samael is doing.


Alecia Matthews: Isn’t he feeling out his opponent?


DMK: **mumbles something intelligible**


Samael wraps his arms around the waist and leg of Garrett and gets himself to his knees and very weakly gets off a half assed back suplex from his knees, but it does enough damage to cause Garrett to break the hold. Sam jumps to his feet as Jayson recovers, springboards off of the middle rope and turns his body, absolutely BLASTING Garrett with a springboard roundhouse kick. The champ falls backwards to the corner, dazed. Samael lines up across from him, three point stance and charges for the turnbuckle clothesline. Garrett dodges at the last minute as Sam half exits the ring. Both men are sitting in the corner, backs in the ring, legs outside when Garrett quickly leans into the ring, bringing himself almost completely inverted, kicking Samael in the head with the toe of his boot and landing in the ring on his feet. The Golden Boy bows to the crowd, showboating.


DMK: THAT”S EXCESSIVE CELEBRATION THROW THE GOD DAMN FLAG REF.


Alecia Matthews: And you say I don’t know anything about wrestling?


Garrett holds his head on the last bow, clearly woozy from the kick to the head. He falls onto Samael to try and end it.


… 1 …


… 2 …


…


Samael kicks out at two!


DMK: YEAH.


Garrett stumbles to his feet, that kick REALLY getting to him now. He lifts Sam up but Ahriman has other ideas, hooking his arms behind Garrett’s unsteady legs and gets The Golden Boy in a small package pin.


… 1 …


… 2 …


…


Garrett narrowly avoids being pinned. Both men are on their feet. Jayson throws an ill advised punch, Sam ducking under, hooking his arms around the waist of Garrett and nailing him with a Northern Lights Suplex, complete with a bridge.


… 1 …


… 2 …


…


Garrett kicks out again.


Alecia Matthews: Samael almost picked up the win with a move shades of former WFWF National Champion Jon O’Deeves and his patented Dynamite Shot.


DMK: Don’t know him and that sounds like the name of a bad porno.


Writers note: tried telling O’Deeves that years ago. Didn’t listen.


Ahriman is on his knees, his hands on his hips, the wheels churning inside his head. He facewashes Garrett with his forearm, delivering a hefty slap to end it. Sam pulls the champ to his feet by his hair, hitting a few extra slaps in, the fans booing ridiculously. Garrett stops one of the slaps with his forearm and spits in the face of Samael.


Alecia Matthews: This isn’t going to sit well.


Ahriman tries a right hook but Garrett bows out of the way and wraps his arms around the waist of Sam, hooking his arms tight and tossing him back once. Then again.


Alecia Matthews: Garrett going for the Sacramento Trio!


But on the third suplex, Samael flips out of it, landing on his feet. Jayson turns around to survey what he assumes is damage and takes a moonsault dropkick right to the chest for his effort! Garrett falls into the referee who falls into the turnbuckle and then falls to the mat. Sam holds the back of his head as he rolls out of the ring and going under the ring, the crowd booing.


Alecia Matthews: Sam…how could you play so dirty?


DMK: He’s one of us now. He’s gonna like what he finds.


Alecia Matthews: What are you up to?


Ahriman cocks his head when he reaches near the apron, pulling something down. He gets a sadistic smile on his face, coming from under the ring with a Bo. Samael Figure 8’s and points an end at Donnie, smiling.


Alecia Matthews: What in the hell is that thing?


DMK: Need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.


Note to readers: Fighting stick. LONG stick. Samael’s a martial arts master, remember?


Ahriman slides into the ring, the Bo on his shoulders, him smiling back at DMK. He turns around to take a shot at Garrett when WHACK! Garrett has a toy of his own! Samael eats a face full of chair. Again. Sam falls to his back.


Alecia Matthews: Seems Garrett’s smarter than he looks, eh?


DMK: **more mumbling**


Garrett takes advantage of the situation and goes for another hit on Sam’s legs but Ahriman hicks the chair from the mat into Jayson’s face.


DMK: PAYBACK, BITCH.


Ahriman kips up but falls into the ropes, dizzy. He picks up his Bo and uses it to hold himself up like a cane as Garrett comes to himself, still holding the chair. Jayson attacks first, Sam deflecting the shot with the tip of his Bo. With the other end, Sam drives the flat end into Jayson’s boot. When Garrett hunches over on one leg, Sam cracks him in the head with the Bo. Sam hooks the Bo around Jayson’s neck and goes for a leg sweep. Jayson uses what strength he has left, separating the stick from his throat and throws a hip into Samael’s gut. Garrett rolls the Bo out of the ring and turns his attention to a vulnerable Ahriman.


Alecia Matthews: This is it!


Garrett grabs the chair and lifts it high to END Sam, but Ahriman swings his arm between Jayson’s legs and the Golden Boy is singing about four octaves higher. He drops the chair, which the KKK member picks up and stands it on its own, driving Garrett’s throat into the top of it, a brutal guillotine. Ahriman kicks the chair out of the ring, picks Jayson up and hits The Serpent’s Temptation. Ahriman grabs the ref by the belt and drops him next to Jayson. Ahriman climbs to the top rope and hits the Phoenix Splash. The ref slowly counts.


……….. 1 ……….


……….. 2 ……….


……… 3!


The ref calls for the bell and collapses. Weak.


DING DING DING!


Christa Adina: Here is your winner, Samael Ahriman!


Ahriman rolls to the ropes and out of the ring, grabbing his sword and the WFWF Tag Team Championship. Sam climbs back in and stands over Garrett, the sheathe in Jayson’s chest as he holds the tag title up. He mouths ‘One Down’ and smiles at DMK, who nods his tiny head from the announce table. He drops the title disrespectfully onto Jayson’s chest and walks out of the ring, grabbing the Bo and walking up the ramp to a chorus of boos.


DMK: Atta boy, Sam.


Alecia Matthews: This violence pleases you? Oh who am I kidding.


DMK: He did what he had to do to win. Garrett didn’t blink when he drove that chair into Sam’s head. Don’t see how you can defend that but not the Satanist. Go piss on some virgins, Sam. You’ve earned it.


Alecia Matthews: …what…?


Ahriman raises his sword high as the fans continue to boo and we cut to commercial, a bloody Garrett sitting up, holding his title to his chest. We cut to another video package, something awesome I expect promoting some awesome thing. And then we’re back.


"Perfect Strangers" by Deep Purple hits and the Denver crowd rises to their feet as Josh Dean comes out onto the stage, dressed in jeans and Tapout shirt.


Christa Adina: Ladies and gentleman, please welcome "The Franchise" Josh Dean!


Josh reaches the bottom of the ramp and climbs the stairs. He enters the ring and walks over to the commentary side turnbuckle before going into his spread arm pose while soaking in the cheers from the crowd. He steps down from the turnbuckle and motions for a mic. A stagehand hands him a mic and Josh paces the ring as his music dies down.


Josh Dean: Thank you very much for that reception, but I want to get straight to the point of why I'm out here before a dangerous match tonight against Chase Landon and the midget's heavy artillery Turgain Zmey. I'll get to my issue with those men at a later time, because I need to keep my eyes fixed on London and the undertaking that waits me.


The crowd erupts in cheers as Josh nods his head along with them. After a few seconds the crowd dies down.


Josh Dean: After this show, we head across the pond to London for The Clash. The Clash is an appropriate name isn't it, because that's exactly what awaits me. A clash between philosophies on the future of WFWF, a clash of the times and how they are changing and how they've changed since I was last here in 2007. But finally, a clash between two between two men in very different stages in their lives. But this isn't just any clash, no Yukio Blaze wants to go big with this one in challenging me to a Death Match.


He pauses.


Josh Dean: This challenge came at suspiciously convenient timing, now that I've had some time to think about it. The challenge came the very next show after I went through hell and back with Phillip Schneider in an I Respect You match, so I don't know if that made me an easy target in his eyes or what the deal is. Just so we're clear, I still don't respect Phillip Schneider and I don't really care what Yukio's reasoning is. I accepted the challenge and told him to be careful what he wished for and I'm sticking to my guns here. Call me out and you get more than what you bargained for.


The crowd erupts in cheers once again.


Josh Dean: The match at hand isn't lost on me, because I know exactly what I'm getting myself into as we gear up for The Clash. I know that this will be just as brutal as anything I've ever been through. I know the level of violence that Yukio and I will inflict on each other and for the faint of heart, I strongly plead with you not to hold any ill will toward myself and Yukio Blaze for what we'll have to do. But I have a little secret for all...


DMK: Oh great. This guy.


Yukio Blaze makes his way down the ramp without any flashy entrance or his usual AFI playing behind him. The crowd seems mixed to his appearance as he makes his way into the ring. He looks as if he has no cares in the world with his leather jacket and street attire. The time keeper throws him a microphone . The crowd starts a few chants going back and forth. Some seem to cheer as the other boo. He stares Josh down as he enters the ring.


Yukio Blaze: This should be interesting Josh. Why don't you tell the world your little secret?


Josh Dean: It's good to see you Yukio, really is.


Yukio Blaze: Don't patronize me Josh.


Josh Dean: Oh don't patronize him he says. But it's ok for you to patronize me, talking about me being the young guy you want to put an end to the myth known as Yukio Blaze. Unless I live in an alternate universe somewhere where time just froze, this isn't 2007 Yukio. I'm not that wide eyed, stars in my eyes kid anymore.


Yukio Blaze: I know that. Pardon me if that's the way I'd like to remember you.


Josh raises an eyebrow.


Yukio Blaze: You were the kid with no fear, fighting like he didn't have a thing to lose. The kid who came in, turned this company on its ear then vanished like an illusion. The kid that people like me, who care enough about this company to remember the countless names and faces, created a mystique that stayed in the annals of time even after you were gone for seven years. Then you came back, whole lot of grandeur and fan fare and lost. Then you kept losing and suddenly that mystique was gone. Pardon me, if I'd like to remember a time with you when you weren't a shell. A time when you were raw, gifted, and unapologetic about who you were.


He points at the apparel that Josh is currently wearing.


Yukio Blaze: Instead of selling out like the rest.


Yukio paces around Josh.


Yukio Blaze: You left while I stayed around, fighting for WFWF. I made sure that there was a company for you to come back and fight for alongside you beloved Saviors of Salvation!


Josh Dean: You better tread lightly Yukio. You don't want to get in this conversation with me, because you won't like what I have to say.


Yukio lowers the mic and mouth at Josh to "say it".


Josh Dean: Well since you want to go there, Yukio, let's go there. Yeah, I left WFWF for more money back in the day. And it was the biggest mistake of my professional career. I went public with that a couple months back, so I'm glad to see that you're catching up. But do you really think that I like coming out to a theme song that is a metaphor of my place in WFWF history? Or how about guys that couldn't lace my boots now having the accolades and positions in the Hall of Fame that I would've been a shoe in for had I stayed? All because I didn't have the good sense to read the fine print when I was 20. I have to live with that choice every damn day, but I can live with it because I go into the ring every night and give it my all whether I get my hand raised or not. Can you say the same thing?


Now it's Josh pacing the ring as Yukio stands still.


Josh Dean: Cause let me let you in on my little secret. I may have not been here for seven years, but I still watched the product, and I know that you weren't always "Your Random Hero". Which what kind of a name is that? A hero knows what kind of battle he's fighting. I know what battle I'm fighting with my brother and sisters in arms, the one that you GAVE UP fighting at The Spanish Inquisition 2008!


The crowd erupts with a collective "OH"! Yukio stands frozen in anger as Josh brings up the most devastating loss of Yukio's career.


Josh Dean: That night you had your best chance of winning the WFWF World Title and you hit Thunder with everything but the kitchen sink, but you still couldn't reel in the big one. After that night, sure you were still around, but you didn't have the same desire. That's the difference between us Yukio. The fans that remember me from 2007 remember that I kept fighting until I kicked a door down to put myself in the history books. And the fans here know that still holds true to this day. That's what I'm doing to make it right.


Yukio Blaze: And in the process, making yourself out to be the punchline in the rest of the locker room's jokes. That's what being gone for seven years will do, especially with the reputation you had and not living up to it since you've returned. I saw Raider and several others go through it, and I'd hate to see it happen to you.


Josh Dean: How thoughtful of you, Yukio. Do me a favor, and I say this with all the respect I have for you because of what you mean to my career as a whole. Shut up before you embarrass yourself. You can say that I ruined my mystique, but I see it as adding to it because when I signed my name on another WFWF contract earlier this year, I said I didn't want a tune up match. I told Lila Sleater that I wanted to fight the absolute best on a weekly basis and she obliged. It hasn't been easy, but every single person I've fought since SuperBrawl came out of the match knowing they earned their wins because they were in a fight. For far too long, too many guys have been skating by on reputations and who they know, and I'm here to tell you because you are one of those men, that sh*t stops as long as I'm here. Adding more accolades to my name in the process makes the deal even sweeter.


Josh steps toward Yukio, getting in the Hall of Farmer's face.


Josh Dean: So you want to call your own shots on the way out Yukio, and as a guy that believes in going out on your own terms, I admire that and think you deserve it for your time spent here entertaining the fans. But if you think for one second that I'm going to take a beating and let you have the win because you think I owe you for helping me back in the day, then your delusions are sorely misguided. If you want to beat me in London and get this #3Wishes off to a rousing start, then you better pack a lunch and get motivated. Which right now from where I'm standing, you don't look too motivated.


With that, Josh unleashes a lightning fast slap to Yukio's face! HOLY SH*T! The impact snaps Yukio's head to the side and the mic drops out of his hand. The crowd gasps at the act of defiance from the mild mannered Josh Dean.


Josh Dean: Consider that your motivation!


Josh flips the mic out of his hands and backs up to the ropes, never taking his eyes off Yukio Blaze. "Perfect Strangers" hits as Josh climbs through the ropes and down to the floor. Yukio walks toward the ropes and both men jaw at each other as Josh backs up the ramp, mouthing to Yukio "I'll see you in London."

We head back to the ring where it’s all set up for the big contract signing. A single table sits in the middle of the ring with that all important contract atop it, no chairs because everybody knows that these things are volatile enough without adding in something else to hit people with.


DMK: This is bull sh*t. The main event should close the show. Not some pointless contract signing.


Daniel Knight stands front and centre in the ring, microphone in hand.


Daniel Knight: Ladies and gentlemen it is now time for the official WFWF World Heavyweight Championship contract signing between challenger Trace Demon and champion Drakz. So if you would please give the warmest of welcomes to the challenger, the owner of the WFWF, Trace Demon!


”Shoot the war Pigz” hits the speakers as the crowd erupt into a chorus of boos as Trace Demon emerges out onto the ramp, limping with his crutch under his arm. He moves slowly down the ramp, his face cringing in pain with each step as he really sells the injury received on the last show at the hands of his Clash opponent. Once he reaches the bottom of the ramp he makes for the steel ring steps, slowly climbing up then and entering the ring through the ropes the whole time ensuring that he doesn’t put any weight down on his injured leg.


DMK: He deserves a f*cking Oscar for that performance.


Alecia Matthews: Not so sure any big time studios are going to be looking his way.


Daniel Knight: Now Trace, before we introduce your opponent at The Clash is there anything you’d like to say to the-


Trace Demon bats the microphone right out of Daniel Knight’s hand, sending him scrambling across the ring to pick it back up while Demon picks up one of the two microphones from the table.


Trace Demon: Why do I even pay your wages? Anyway, yes, of course I’ve got something to say, when the hell don’t I have something to say? I want to make this clear this isn’t about Drakz, this isn’t about me and him, this is about the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship. This is about bringing that title to The Final Revolution because that title is a symbol of everything that we stand for. That title represents the best of the WFWF, it represents the blood, sweat and pain that every single worthy champion has put in. As long as Lila Sleater is in control the only way I can stop more pathetic, unworthy fools like Shawn Malakai and Dex from degrading the name of that title and this company is by taking it for myself. That’s the only way I know that this company can be saved, that’s the only way I know that-


He doesn’t get to finish as “The Last Time” hits the speakers, the crowd popping loudly as Drakz walks out onto the stage, the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship over his shoulder. As he marches down towards the ring he glances at the crowd on either side of him with a cheeky grin before his sight settles on Trace Demon, the King of Demons watching from the ring. Drakz pulls himself up onto the apron with little effort and then, making fun of Trace's injury proceeds to goose step his way along the edge of the ring. Trace shakes his head in bemusement as Drakz climbs through the ropes, picking up the other microphone from the table and placing the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship down upon it in the process.


DMK: Already bored of Drakz.


Alecia Matthews: He hasn’t even said anything.


DMK: Exactly.


Drakz: As always Trace you're ahead of the curve. I hear crutches are set to be hot next season.


The crowd laugh along with Drakz as Trace simply scowls, more than a little unimpressed.


Drakz: But seriously though I'm disappointed in you. Week after week you come out here to wrestle, and win, lose or draw you usually take more punishment than simply falling on your arse and still make it to the next show to do it all again. I don't think there's a single person in this arena who believes this injury is legit, but go ahead, keep up the act, it doesn’t make a difference to me. I’m stepping into that ring on home soil as the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion and I’m leaving in exactly the same fashion. Oh and one more thing…


Drakz and Trace keep eye contact, never breaking, Daniel Knight may as well have left the moment they stepped foot in the ring.


Drakz: You’re revolution is full of sh*t.


A cheer erupts from the crowd.


Drakz: This 'Final Revolution' is as forced and embellished as your injury. Our match has nothing to do with saving the business. It’s not about you preserving the grandeur of the title.


Drakz pauses and then points at Trace.


Drakz: This is about you........


Now at himself.


Drakz: And me.


The silence that follows is quickly swallowed by the cheering of the fans. Drakz stops smiling.


Drakz: It’s why I challenged you. It’s why you brought me back in the first place. Just like me, you want to settle this.


Drakz breaks away from Trace and begins to walk the ring, talking with his hands.


Drakz: Two matches. One win for you. One win for me. And now you, me and all of these people want to know for certain just who exactly is the better man. I'll give you a hint though King of Demons, it's the guy with the hair on his lip. You may have a victory over me but don't forget my friend that that win came with another guy in the match. A variable and a distraction. When I beat you it was one on one. You look at me and you know that fact. It eats you alive. You see this title and you wonder whether you’re good enough to take it from me, you-


Trace Demon: Of course it eats me up!


He roars it, shutting Drakz up immediately. The World Champion grins at Trace, knowing he’s gotten under his skin.


Trace Demon: But not because I wonder whether I can beat you, because I know I can beat you. I see that title around your waist and I know it should be around mine. I’m the best in this company, I’m the man who’s been here for eight years without time off and I’ve fought night after night. While you were off sucking guys off for rent money I was here becoming the best damn thing in the WFWF. I can beat you Drakz, I deserve to be the champion, I-


DMK: Oh I’ve have enough of listening to this.


Trace Demon, Drakz and everyone else turns towards the announce table which DMK now stands upon, a microphone in hand.


DMK: Seriously why the f**k are we even listening to this? You two don’t deserve to be in there, it should be me and my Dragon! You two mean nothing, you’re nobodies, you’re half the man that I am!


Drakz: I'm not sure I even need to make the joke there.


DMK: Shut up damn it! A real man is talking!


Trace Demon: Don’t you need to be this tall to be classed as a man?


He holds his hand purposefully and exaggeratedly low, infuriating DMK even further. The crowd however are enjoying themselves, laughing along with the jokes of Drakz and Demon even if they do hate one another.


DMK: You know what, no! No more talking! I’m f*****g sick and tired of talking! You know how you make a name in this business, you know how you make sure everybody is talking about you? You take out the most important people in the company! And right now somehow that’s you two bungholes! So I don’t know if you two have seen my security detail but tonight they’ve brought a few friends. Get them boys!


Trace Demon and Drakz both look confused at who he’s talking to but that’s quickly answered as midgets begin to emerge from beneath the ring, the pair of them looking almost as confused as the crowd two. They quickly back up against the table, using it to ensure they can’t be jumped from behind. Daniel Knight quickly exits the ring as the midgets begin to enter.


Alecia Matthews: And I thought I’d seen how every contract signing could possibly end, but an army of midgets attacking? No, that’s definitely new.


The midgets enter the ring and go straight for Trace Demon and Drakz. Neither man hesitates regardless of the clear handicap. They just start swinging. Drakz clocks a midget with a downward right hand, another with a boot to the face. Trace meanwhile just starts swinging with the crutch taking multiple midgets out with both blows. But the midgets keep coming, swarms of them emerging from beneath the ring and going straight for Trace and Drakz.


Alecia Matthews: Did you just get all the midgets in the country D?


DMK doesn’t hear it because he’s raging on top of the announce table, screaming at the midgets to take the pair out but to no avail, Drakz and Trace Demon just keep taking midgets out as they swarm over them. A few get a lucky couple of shots in but they’re quickly batted away by punches, kicks, elbows and knees. Soon enough the midgets stop coming and the ring and outside is covered in the fallen bodies of midgets. Trace drops to his knees and clocks his last midget with a kneeling elbow rush that looks absolutely ridiculous on the spinning elbow part while Drakz delivers a double suplex to two midgets that takes out another one. Soon enough all the midgets are down and out.


DMK: Are you f*****g kidding me! Damn it! ZMEY!


And so it seems the midget attack was merely a smoke screen to distract the pair as Trace now turns around coming face to chest with Tugarin Zmey. Zmey stares down, wild eyed, at Trace Demon who backs off on his crutches, perhaps fearing a second injury at the hands of The Dragon. Out of nowhere though Drakz makes the save with a spring board off of the desk hitting a diving lariat that takes Zmey over the top rope backwards. Zmey lands on his feet but the element of surprise is lost. DMK throws his headset down, leaps off of the announce table and storms off around the ring. Zmey takes a knee and DMK climbs up onto his shoulders to be carried off up the ramp. Drakz moves to the ropes closest to them and shouts after DMK when…


Trace Demon swings and bends his metal crutch over the war torn back of the champion. The King of Demons then grabs him from behind and ducking down to hook the neck and inside leg, lifts Drakz up into a torture rack, showing absolutely no pain in his leg at all. Trace looks absolutely focused as he lifts Drakz up and then plants him head first through the hard wooden desk with the Hellfire Overdose!


Alecia Matthews: No! That move has broken necks and Trace just put Drakz through a table with it!


The crowd boo loudly as Trace climbs to his feet, actually doing a little jig in the centre of the ring to show that his apparent leg injury was indeed fake. He looks down at Drakz who is absolutely broken amongst the shattered remnants of the table and then around him at the downed midgets everywhere. He chuckles at himself and then notices something else.


The WFWF World Heavyweight Championship.


Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon has only used Hellfire Overdose a handful of times and he’s just put Drakz through a damn table with it. If that doesn’t show how obsessed he is with that title then nothing does.


Trace Demon leans down, picks up the title and stares at it before placing his miraculously healed foot atop Drakz’s chest and holding the title up high drawing a chorus of boos from the arena. Is this a sign of things to come at The Clash?