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[Camera opens on a clean cut man in a suit standing in the six posted ring. Only a single spotlight shines down on him. This man is Vice President Marshall Law. He waits a moment for the crowd to quiet down enough for him to speak.]
Marshall: It's been four long years sense we opened our doors..... But after alot of hard work and some very generous investors I am happy to welcome you all to the New Era of Hardcore!
[Marshal pauses waiting for the crowd again to calm down from their mad screaming and cheers.]
Mashrall: With a New Era comes new talent and the return of old favorites. With us again as always at ringside is Travis Best and Eddie Danniels!
[Pausing for a mix of boos and cheers. Marshall tries to calm them so he may continue.]
Marshall: If I have to keep stopping like this no one is going to see tonight's main event....
[More boos come nearly drowning out the VP.]
Marshall: It's for your own good. We are on a tight time limit being on live tv. But if you'd rather boo me and waste everyone's time.....
[More boos come and the once smiling VP stands there looking very annoyed. The boos continue as Marshall waits, looking at his watch.]
Marshall: You're only killing the ratings for the first Delirium show!.......... Hey! I am speaking!
[At that point, "The Antichrist" hits the PA, and another smiling figure appears, this one of the dark-haired sultry form of Lauren.]
Lauren: Mr. Law. I'm here on the behalf of the President.
[The crowd silences for once, as the unknown president was referenced again.]
Lauren: The President would like to see you. [Abruptly, the smile would disappear.] Now.
Marshall: With all due respect, Miss.... Lauren. I am currently in the middle of doing the opening of the show as the President already knows. Now you can go back there and tell him I will meet with him once I am done here.
[Lauren simply watched Marshall, and then looked at the crowd.]
Lauren: Well, you can either A.) Stay out here and bore these fans to tears, or B.) Go backstage and maybe keep your job. Not my choice to make.
[And Lauren would walk backstage herself. Marshall would chuckle softly raising the mic to his lips again to speak.]
Marshall: Excuse me I have more important things to do then be out here wasting my time with ungrateful people.
[Saying no more Marshall slips out of the ring and up the ramp heading to the back. The crowd cheer his departure.]
Eddie: Oh-no looks like the VP is already in trouble first day on the job. What a way to start a show. Folks we are live at the Scottrade Center in St. Louis, Missouri. Home of Hardcore Corp. And by my side again is Travis Best. Long time no see buddy. How's the gambling problem Travis?
[Travis takes a quick few drinks from a flask before speaking.]
Travis: I have a good feeling about this year.
Eddie: Are ........Are you drinking on the job?
Travis: Aren't you?
Eddie: Some things I guess really don't ever change. We have to cut to commercial but don't go anywhere. This promises to be one hell of a first show.
--Commercial Break--
[As the show returned from commercial, all of the jobbers were in the ring for their battle royal. The bell rings, and all. . . well, all heck breaks loose. After a few moments of mindless attacking, the entire ring turns, as one, to face the biggest man in the ring, The Cushion. And, for several long moments, The Cushion holds his own, throwing people away with relative ease, and staving off removal. However, a moment of confusion, and Ryan Maverick would capitalize with a superkick square to The Cushion's jaw, sending the Cushion into the ropes, and halfway over. The rest of the group would then devote themselves to dumping The Cushion. No sooner did The Cushion hit the ground than the 'truce' would dissolve, and the time-honored adage of weak people in large quantities would take effect. The more talented of the group would be isolated by the less talented people. With a pronounced division in the sides, one side would have the people who were confident in their skills, and had a decent enough skillset to work with, the other would be filled with the less skilled or less confident. It ended up with Ryan Maverick, Mystic J, and Brimstone on one side, and Lurker, Tank, Agent Jobber, Skull Cowboy and Air Raid on the other. The gap in skill became obvious quickly when Tank rushed the isolated three, and was summarily dumped over the top rope by Mystic, Agent Jobber would move to follow Tank in the initial rush, and would stop short. That stopping short, however, saved him, as Maverick attempted a superkick again. As Maverick turned to return to facing Jobber, again, he'd be rather quickly grabbed from behind and thrown over the top rope. That closeness to the ropes, though, would get him grabbed by Mystic, and planted with a 747. Picking him up, Mystic tossed Jobber rather quickly. Now down to three on two, the remaining three would rush the two 'bigger' names. Mystic's rather slow, methodical pacing cost him, as he was rushed in the middle of going to hit a 747 on Skull Cowboy, and Lurker caught him mid-move with a superkick. The kick, as well as the added weight of Skull Cowboy, took Mystic over the top rope, with Skull Cowboy. Down to two on one, Lurker and Air Raid charged Ryan, and seemed to have it well under control, until Maverick caught Lurker with a hard right hand, then turned to Air Raid and threw him bodily over the top rope. Lurker caught Maverick looking with a basement dropkick, and then slipped under the bottom rope, standing on the apron. Maverick got up, and fired another superkick at Lurker, which Lurker evaded, catching Maverick on the top rope. Lurker dropped from the apron, and grabbed, of all things, a chair, from under the ring, and, as he stood on the apron, he'd crack Maverick in the back of the head with the chair. The shot would be enough to cause Maverick to tumble over the side, hitting the ground. The bell rang, then, and Lurker was announced as the victor.]
Eddie: Surprisingly good matchup between the jobbers here on Delirium.
Travis: Wait. . . it's over? Why didn't you wake me up like you said you would?
Eddie: I never said I'd wake you up, Travis. It's not my job to keep you awake. Well, anyone, thank you again for joining us tonight, folks, in the first show of the HWC's new era. Again, I'm Eddie Daniels, and my announce partner is, as always, Travis Best.
Travis: And of course I'm back, Daniels. The HWC is nothing without me.
[On return from break camera open on Marshall standing in the President's office waiting in silence. The large office chair turned around to where all you can see is the chair's backing. Rather shortly thereafter, the chair would turn. . . . and then keep turning. And, after Lauren grabbed the top of the chair, the person sitting in the chair would be on top of the desk.]
B.D.: WHERE HAVE YOU HIDDEN THE SECRET DOCUMENTS?!
Lauren: B.D., that's a different person.
B.D.: Huh?
Lauren: This is Marshall Law.
B.D.: Oh. Him. He's no fun anymore. He doesn't scream when I poke him with the fork.
Lauren: That's because that's not a fork, B.D., that's a fish.
[Marshall stood seeming unbothered by any of it. His face emotionless as he speaks, except the look of annoyance.]
Marshall: Sir... What is it you want from me. I am a very busy man. And this is our first live show. So if you don't mind.....
[Lauren looked at B.D.]
B.D.: I'm watching you. . . [And B.D. would point at Marshall with his bloodstained folding chair, before flopping back down into the chair behind his desk.]
Lauren: In layman's terms, Marshall, remember that you are never more than a few feet from B.D., and, in turn, his chair. I've given you the benefit of the doubt, but B.D. can only be restrained for so long.
Marshall: Shouldn't you be getting us coffee or typing some memos?
[Lauren's relatively good mood evaporated immediately, and then she smiled a smile that made it very clear it wasnt' a 'happy' smile.]
Lauren: Alright. I'll get right on that, Marshall. You two play nice.
[And Lauren would exit the room. Immediately afterward, the door would click shut, and lock. And B.D. would be, again, on the desk, eyes wide, for all of a second before he giggled maniacally, and swung at Marshall's head. The camera cuts before impact. Going back to ring side with Eddie and Travis.
Eddie Isn't that B.D?! Wasn't he a wrestler here once?
Travis: Did you see that hot little secretary? I wish I had his luck. Maybe she can get me a cup of coffee.
["The Antichrist" by Slayer hits the PA, and B.D. would emerge from the curtain, looking, for once, relatively harmless, a bloodstained chair in his hand, long, stringy hair hanging down over his face as his head was bowed. At the top of the ramp, the hand holding the chair rocketed into the air, holding the bloodstain out toward the crowd. The arena would explode, rather instantly, in a loud cacophony of cheers, at which point the chair would drop, and the bloodstain would be moved to face the man himself, and his head would begin to move as if he were talking to the chair.]
Eddie: Well, folks, it would seem like we're about to be joined by our new president, B.D.
Travis: How in the hell did he end up getting control of the company?! Does he even know where he is?!
Eddie: Apparently. According to what I was told, he's the one paying your bills, as huge as they are, Travis. You really sure you want to-
[Eddie was interrupted, at this point, by B.D. stopping in front of both of them. Considering the hair in his eyes, where he was looking was in question. But Travis Best could FEEL the eyes on him. B.D. said something, then, softly, and then slid into the ring.]
Eddie: What'd he just say?
Travis: Something about smelling my feet, or something.
Eddie: I think he might have said 'fear', Travis.
Travis: Whatever.
[In the ring, B.D. snapped his head back, revealing his face, his eyes wide. Thrusting the chair into the air, B.D. laughed maniacally. Shortly thereafter,Lauren would rush down to the ring, pushing B.D. back into the turnbuckle, and then grabbing the microphone.]
Eddie: That, of course, is B.D.'s wife Lauren. We've seen her on a number of occasions.
Travis: How did a spastic moron like him get a looker like her?
Eddie: Why don't you ask B.D.? I'm sure you and he and your friendly relationship will give him all the reason he needs to tell you.
Lauren: Thank you. The only reason I let B.D. out here tonight was to make sure you, as the fans, understood how truly grateful we are to have you here tonight. I can promise each and every one of you that the garbage you've taken from watching other promotions won't exist here. The HWC has always been about the hardcore. The extreme. And nowhere is this more better manifested than in-
[From out of nowhere, Brimstone had appeared, and managed to sneak up on B.D. The first shot stunned B.D. enough that he dropped his chair. Brimstone snatched the chair up quickly, and began to lay into B.D. with it. Multiple shots to B.D.'s skull quickly busted him open. And every single shot to B.D. seemed to do little more than wake him up further. Eventually, Brimstone figured out the chair was useless, paused, and looked at it. B.D., sagging in the corner, suddenly snapped his head up, and watched Brimstone for a moment. And then, a maniacal giggle erupted forth from his throat, and B.D. launched himself from the turnbuckle, tackling Brimstone to the ground. B.D.'s attacks lacked focus, or consistency, but each one was backed with the kind of power that was only afforded to the insane or the developmentally disabled. B.D. rather quickly stood, then, reaching down, grabbing Brimstone's face and pulling. Brimstone had little choice but to climb to his feet, and, when he got to his feet, B.D. would begin to, of all things, bite Brimstone's face. B.D. would continue to do so, and then step back. Lauren shouted his name, and B.D. looked, in time to catch his chair, in midair. Momentary closeness to catastrophe averted, B.D. stepped back, and waffled Brimstone with the chair. B.D., this time, grabbed Brimstone and hauled him to his feet, kicking Brimstone in the stomach, and pulling him forward. In the 'base' position of a powerbomb, B.D. reached down, and hooked both of Brimstone's arms over his head, forcing Brimstone to stare down at the chair placed conveniently under his head, even as his head was extended downward. Brimstone began shaking his head, obviously aware of what was going to happen next, as B.D. surveyed the crowd. A moment more, and Brimstone's skull was driven into the chair backed by B.D.'s bodyweight. B.D. shoved the unconscious Brimstone over, and picked up his chair, carrying on a conversation with the chair for a moment, before lifting it high and bringing the chair crashing down, into the back of Brimstone's head. Lauren darted into the ring quickly, then, to save Brimstone more damage, slowly moving B.D. back, out of the ring.]
Eddie: Well, folks, it appears that Brimstone has just found out the first rule of thumb when dealing with B.D. Don't hit him in the head.
Travis: Right. Because there's nothing up there to hurt.
Eddie: Travis, he's insane. Not retarded. If he was retarded, he'd probably pay you as much as he pays me.
Travis: Wait. . . how much do they pay you?
Eddie: We'll be right back, folks.
--Commercial Break--
[On return from the break the camera opens on the Enforcer sitting in his locker room taping up his wrists before his match. He stops when there is a knock at the door. He looks over to Scott Mercer.]
Scott: You expecting company?
Enforcer: No. You?
Scott: No.
Enforcer: Wanna see who it is?
[Scott walks over and opens the door and then breaks into a broad grin.]
Scott: What the hell are you doing here?
Voice: Thought I'd stop in and say hi.
[The owner of the voice steps through the door and the Enforcer puts down his athletic tape as he sees the owner of the voice.]
Enforcer: Oh shit!! Jeff, what's up man? What are you doing here?
[Jeff Wylde, former two time HWC Intercontinental Champion and member of Bad News walks in and shares handshakes with both Scott and The Enforcer.]
Enforcer: How you been man? I heard you went and got yourself married.
Jeff (nodding): Yeah, after Amy and I broke up I spent some time on my own until I ran into Hunter Kenson up in her sister's club in Canada. We didn't hit it off at first, but things changed and now we're married, and have a kid.
Scott: I thought you already had a kid.
Jeff: That was my daughter from my first marriage. Hunter and I now have a son.
Enforcer: Got her looks I hope.
Jeff (laughing): Fuck you big man. Anyway, Draven called me and told me the news that the HWC was back in business, so I figured I'd stop in and say hi.
Enforcer: You gonna come back to work?
Jeff: No can do E. Hunter'd fuckin kill me. After what happened with the 3W promotion I worked for, I promised her that my retirment from the ring would be permanent. Plus I got my son to think of now. I'm happy just running my gyms and having my balls attached. Why'd Cynthia let you come back?
Enforcer: Because she knows that I like to hurt people and I like to get paid for doing it. It's like Pitbull said back when we recruited him into Bad News: Once the wrestling bug bites you, it gets in your blood and it's hard to get it out of your system. Or words to that effect, I don't remember word for word what he said, but that was the gist of it.
Jeff (nodding): Yeah, trust me, I know what you mean. Sometimes to get it out of my system, I'll spar with my students at the Wylde World Wrestling Academy, but I'm content just being a husband and father now. Just do me one favor.
Enforcer: What's that?
Jeff: When you become the two time HWC World Heavyweight Champion. Try not to be too arogant about it!
[The trio laugh, remembering that when the Enforcer first won the title, the former champion tried to rain on his parade by spoiling his victory speech. Composing themselves Jeff gets ready to head out.]
Jeff: Listen man, I gotta jet, but I'll be keeping an eye on things. I hope Draven does decide to come back, I'd love to see the original Bad News back together again. I think he and Ravin almost have Talia worn down.
Scott: Good, I'd love to get him back in the ring, I used to love watching you guys, along with Blood, Seamus and Amy breaking bodies.
Enforcer: Speaking of which, you talk to any of those guys?
Jeff: Not since the fed closed. I heard from them once or twice after the fed closed, then lost contact with all of them. You two are the first ones I've talked to since then.
Enforcer: Yeah, same here, anyway, thanks for stopping by man. I gotta finish getting ready for my match.
Jeff: Take it sleazy!
Enforcer: I always do.
[Jeff leaves and the Enforcer grabs his tape and finishes working on his wrists as Scott starts giving him a pep talk, psyching the big man up as he prepares to once again climb to the top of the ladder and eliminate anyone in his way.]
Eddie: Well, folks, it seems like Enforcer is prepared for this match tonight.
Travis: Well, he'd better be. Chimaira isn't a joke.
The Enforcer vs Chimaira
First Blood match
Lanisha Carmichael: The following match is a First Blood Match. Introducing first, from New York, New York, weighing in at 300 lbs, The Enforcer!!
["Angry Again" blasts over the PA and the Enforcer steps out on to the stage, pausing at the top of the ramp for a moment looking over the crowd, his face an unreadable mask. He nods at them and then heads to the ring, stepping over the top rope and getting ready to mix it up.]
Eddie: Enforcer truly does seem ready, here, tonight, to go the distance. I think, honestly, this match will come down to one of these two men making a mistake, and that mistake costing them the fight.
Travis: Or Enforcer will realize he's outclassed, and do the real man's thing and exit the ring so the best in this promotion has the chance to stand tall in the center of the ring.
Lanisha: And his opponent, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at 157 lbs, Chimaira!
[The entire HWC tron and stage goes black, then illuminated with a sickly green color. The strains of Inflikted can be heard as different images of people being sick and different stages of sicknesses show across the screen. When the music starts full through, Chimaira starts walking out, calm and cocky as ever. When the crowd starts booing, he simply raises both arms and flips the entire crowd off without any such issue at all. He'll enter the ring by calmly walking up the stairs and climbing through the ropes before just flipping the crowd off again.]
Eddie: Chimaira, folks, as irreverent and as much of an asshole as he's ever been.
Travis: You're just jealous. Do you have any idea the level of tail he gets?
Eddie: And you know this how?
Travis: I get his throwaway trim.
Eddie: Disgusting.
[The bell rings, and Enforcer goes for a lock-up. Chimaira ducks around the side of Enforcer, then, and dropkicks him in the back of the knee, bringing Enforcer down. Hitting the ropes, Chimaira attempts a running savate kick, only to have Enforcer duck, and, before Chimaira could recover and turn to face Enforcer again, Enforcer was up, dropping Chimaira with a neckbreaker. Enforcer shifted, then, and rather quickly dropped a fist into Chimaira's skull, before pulling Chimaira to his feet. Slingshotting Chimaira into the ropes, Enforcer attempts a sidewalk slam. As Chimaira was lifted, however, he'd kick Enforcer in the head. And as Enforcer dropped Chimaira, Chimaira would quickly recover and attempt another savate kick, only to have Enforcer grab Chimaira's leg, and drop an elbow onto Chimaira's knee. Chimaira shouted in pain as Enforcer capitalized quickly with a clothesline. Now in the driver's seat, Enforcer hauls Chimaira up, and sends him into the ropes, planting Chimaira on the return with a drop toehold. Stepping forward, Enforcer rests his foot on the back of Chimaira's thigh, and grabs Chimaira's foot, lifting Chimaira's entire leg off of the ground before slamming it back into the mat backed by his body weight. Chimaira screamed in pain as Enforcer moved to the ropes. Coming off of the ropes, Enforcer went for an elbowdrop, that Chimaira had the presence of mind to roll away from. However, when he got to his feet, the injury to his knee was visible, as he hobbled toward Enforcer. As he did so, Enforcer clipped Chimaira's knee, and Chimaira toppled, clutching his knee. Enforcer stood, grabbed Chimaira's injured leg, and then dropped a fist onto Chimaira's kneecap. Chimaira yelped in pain, and Enforcer dragged Chimaira to the ropes, pulling Chimaira's injured foot over the middle rope, and dropping to the floor, grabbing Chimaira's foot and pulling, using the ropes to add pressure to the move. Enforcer reached into the ring, then, grabbed Chimaira's leg again, pulled it outside the ring, lifted it, and slammed his knee onto the edge of the apron. Slipping into the ring to break the ten count, purely a reflexive move, Enforcer re-exited the ring, again, and, again, took hold of Chimaira's injured leg.]
Eddie: As I thought, since that missed kick, this match has been all Enforcer. If Chimaira can't attempt to soak up some of the pain from that move, he's going to run the risk of not only losing this match but also injuring himself, potentially dangerously.
Travis: They pay you the big money and that's the best you can say? "If he doesn't start not sucking, he's going to get injured?" I can see their money was well spent.
Eddie: You're an ass.
[Enforcer dragged Chimaira to the turnbuckle, and pulled Chimaira, crotch first, into the turnbuckle post itself, before grabbing the injured leg, and wrapping it around the turnbuckle post. Holding onto Chimaira's leg, Enforcer put his foot on the turnbuckle post, adding further pressure to the already-injured leg. Chimaira squirmed and writhed, andEnforcer slid back into the ring. Picking up Chimaira, Enforcer would quickly plant him with a knee breaker. Enforcer stepped back, then, as the referee moved to check on Chimaira, and then moved in again, and hauled Chimaira to his feet, jerking him forward and planting Chimaira with the Enforcing The Law. At this point, Enforcer slid out of the ring, and retrieved a chair, stalking Chimaira. When Chimaira finally regained his feet, it was for only a moment, as Enforcer brought the chair down into Chimaira's skull, braining Chimaira and busting him open all at once.]
Eddie: Well, this match came down to Chimaira making a mistake, going to the well one too many times, and it cost him.
Travis: Yeah, but, if he hadn't made that mistake, Chimaira would be the winner, and guaranteed a title shot.
Eddie: How do you figure?
Travis: Because he's just that good.
Eddie: You are a moron.
--Commercial Break--
Eddie: Well welcome back, folks. Our next match is going to be pitting former HWC World Champion Jarred Dylan against Hans Kuhman. Two old HWC vets in the ring, here, tonight, and folks, I would think they're going to put on one hell of a show.
Travis: Yeah. Snore. Let me know when someone good comes out. Or a hot woman. Either way.
Eddie: That's Travis Best for you, folks. The world's biggest pig.
Jarred Dylan vs Hans Kuhmann
Standard match
Lanisha: The following match is set for one fall. Introducing first, from New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing in at 225 lbs, "The Untouchable" Jarred Dylan!!
["Sleepwalker
Did I give you concrete shoes
And throw you off of a bridge
When I lay down to sleep
Your soul's mine to keep
I feel you near me...
Sleepwalker!"
When Dave Mustaine's signature growl creates the word Sleepwalker, a blast of red pyro shoots up into the sky at the top of the ramp. When it dies down, there's someone standing there. He doesn't look around, instead choosing to walk slowly down the ramp until a spotlight finds him. When that white light engulfs him, his identity is exposed. It's Jarred Dylan! The fans rise up and start cheering, clapping and chanting his name. He looks around a bit, then grins and starts high fiving the fans around the ring. Staring up at the ring, he backs up a bit, then runs up the ring steps and does a Swanton over the ropes to land in the ring.]
Eddie: For someone who is supposed to be unstable, Jarred certainly seems a bit more stable tan one would think, given the circumstances.
Travis: Hey, the really fucked up people in this world can convince everyone that they're stable.
Eddie: And yet, you still can't.
Lanisha: And his opponent, from Berlin, Germany, weighing in at 220 lbs, Hans Kuhmann!
[The opening riff and drums of "Walk Among Us" pounds out of the PA. As the main body of the songs comes in, Hans bursts out from behind the curtain, pumped up for the match, his fists raised in the air. He walks back and forth across the stage, getting the crowd fired up, then runs easily to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. He climbs the turnbuckle, raises his fists to the crowd, then does a backflip off the top and removes his leather jacket, ready for the match to begin.]
Eddie: These two men have had more than a passing encounter with each other, and both of them are exceedingly talented.
Travis: Jeez, Eddie. You've mastered sucking up since we were last on camera.
Eddie: Just because I know talent when I see it does not make me a suck up.
Travis: Oh, so, when Chimaira was out here, you didn't see he was talented, because you don't like him. But suddenly, these two losers are out here, and suddenly, they're like God.
Eddie: Shut up, Travis.
[Both men move to the center of the ring, and shake hands, and, afterward, step back and begin circling one another. After a moment, both men lock up, and begin jockeying for position. Hans gets the early advantage with a deep armdrag, transitioned into an armlock. Jarred hooks Hans' leg, and pulls, causing Hans to drop backward. Rolling over Hans' body, Jarred would rather quickly hook a leg, putting Hans in a pinning predicament. Before even a one count, though, Hans would kick out, and both men would move to stand. Hans would act first, then, going for a standing front dropkick, which Jarred would evade, but just barely. Jarred jumped forward, then, driving an elbow into Hans' skull, and, again, going for another pin. Once more, Hans would kick out before even a one, but, this time, Jarred would meet Hans with a standing side headlock. Hans moved to try to throw Jarred into the ropes, only to have Jarred continue to maintain the hold. Once again, Hans would attempt to use the ropes to throw Jarred free, and, again, Jarred would maintain the hold, this time, though, shifting, and taking Hans down with a headlock takedown. Instantly, Jarred was back up on his feet, hitting the ropes and coming off with a clothesline attempt. Hans pivoted, catching Jarred with a drop toehold into the middle rope, then climbing onto the top turnbuckle, and launching himself off of the top turnbuckle, catching Jarred with an elbowdrop to the back of the head. Jarred rebounded, dropping into the ring, and Hans would climb onto the apron, and grab the top rope, waiting. As Jarred got up, Hans let fly with a clothesline, catching Jarred as he regained his feet, Hans quickly going for a pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout!]
Eddie: That was close. After a quick flurry of offense from Hans, the match almost ended, there.
Travis: Yeah. Let me know when something happens.
[Jarred got to a knee before Hans put him down, again, with another dropkick, then moving to the apron again. As Jarred stood, Hans, again, flew from the top rope, this time with a crossbody, which Jarred countered with a right hand to the stomach. Hans landed on his feet, doubled over, whereupon Jarred planted Hans with a DDT. Jarred quickly picked Hans up, and sent Hans into the ropes. As Hans came back, Jarred caught him with a back body drop, dumping Hans onto the ground. Jarred exited the ring, standing on the apron. As Hans got to his feet, Jarred would jump up, to spring off of the middle rope, moonsaulting backward. Hans sidestepped, then, and Jarred crashed onto the concrete. Hans moved to stand on the guardrail, then jumping from the guardrail onto Jarred with a legdrop. Pulling Jarred up to a kneeling position, and then stepping back, and rushing up, catching Jarred with a dropkick that hit Jarred about his head. Jarred dropped back to the ground, Hans sprinting into the ring, and sliding into the ring under the bottom rope, and hitting the far ropes, before coming back, jumping up, and landing on the top rope, before springboarding from the top rope into a flipping senton. Jarred moved, though, and Hans crashed and burned onto the concrete. Jarred slowly got up, and moved to slip into the ring so he didn't get counted out, before sliding back out of the ring. As Hans rose, he'd stand just in time to be clotheslined back down to the ground. Hans was pulled off of the ground, and Jarred moved to throw Hans into the ring steps. At the last possible second, Hans reversed it, throwing Jarred into the ringsteps hard enough to send Jarred over the top of the ring steps to the floor. Jarred slowly got to his feet, Hans readying for another jump from inside the ring, and Jarred would put a stop to that with a shot to Hans' stomach. By the time Hans recovered enough to jump, Jarred was on the apron. Grabbing the back of Hans' head, he'd drive Hans into the turnbuckle, facefirst, and, as Hans stumbled backward, Jarred would climb to the top turnbuckle, and jump, catching Hans with the Heartland Shield, quickly floating over into a pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . last second kickout!]
Eddie: I thought for sure the match was over right there!
Travis: It would have been if either of these two men were halfway intelligent. Or skilled.
Eddie: Bear in mind, Travis, they may or may not be able to hear you right now, but they can damned sure hear you later on, when they watch their match to make corrections. And then they'll probably come hunt you down.
Travis: Oh, I'm so scared. They'll throw a punch and miss entirely. Like this match. A big miss.
[Jarred began to pick Hans up, Hans grabbing Jarred and pulling Jarred forward, sending Jarred into the top turnbuckle, before attempting a backslide. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout! Jarred quickly recovered, getting to his feet, and going to the top rope again. Hans would get to a knee, and then rush the ropes, hitting the top rope, and causing Jarred to lose his balance and fall onto the turnbuckle crotch first. Hans quickly ascended the turnbuckle, and pulled Jarred to a standing position, setting him up for a northern lights suplex, and hitting the move, dropping Jarred into the center of the ring. Hans turned, and nailed the Berlin Airlift onto Jarred. A quick pin, and the referee would slide into position. 1 . . . 2 . . . thr-kickout! Hans looked at the referee, and then pounded a fist into the mat in frustration, moving to the top turnbuckle again. Before he could move, though, it was Jarred who rushed the ropes. With Hans crotched on the top turnbuckle, Jarred quickly scaled the turnbuckle, and, after a moment, jumped up, like he was going for a hurracanrana, only to shift, and drill Hans with the Solitary Confinement to the outside of the ring. As the crowd began chanting "HWC!", Jarred would pause, to look at the crowd, and then roll Hans into the ring, following him in and going for a cover. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!! A second too late, Hans got a shoulder up, but by then, Jarred was celebrating already. After a moment, he'd turn, and extend a hand to Hans, which Hans took, after a moment, as Jarred pulled Hans to his feet and shook his hand.]
Eddie: That's the kind of good sportsmanship you don't see often anymore, in this business.
Travis: Sportsmanship? Oh. That must be the retarded way of saying "The stupidest thing in the world". If Jarred was smart, he would have just creamed Hans with a chair.
[After beating Hans Kuhmann with a Solitary Confinement to the outside, Jarred Dylan's pretty pleased with himself. It's been a long time since he's set foot inside a wrestling ring... This is just proof he's still got what it takes. On his way back up the ramp, he's reaching out and slapping hands with the fans and even giving a few hugs along the way. They love him... God, it's good to be back where he belongs. He stops at the top of the ramp, turns and salutes the fans before going backstage. He can still hear the screaming of the fans... He chuckles to himself on the way to his locker room.]
Jarred: You still got it, man...
[Then he stops when he hears a voice.]
"No, no, no, NO! We need more bandages and splints than that... This ain't no sissy daycare! This is WRESTLING!!! THINK, man!"
[He knows that voice from somewhere... Rounding the corner, he stops short in surprise when he sees his own brother Michael dressed as an EMT! Michael's the one doing the yelling...]
Michael: If YOU were out there and you needed medical attention, would YOU be content with only having one or two layers over a gash in your forehead? Or only half a splint on a broken arm? I know I wouldn't! So what do you have to say for yourself?
[The EMT he's yelling at looks down and is barely audible...]
"I'll go call the warehouse for as many as they have."
Michael: Good. Now get going.
[The EMT scurries away and Michael turns to see Jarred standing there.]
Michael: Hey, Jarred! Saw you win your match... Didn't think you still had it in you!
[Jarred snaps out of it with a grin.]
Jarred: You know what they say, bro... You can take the man out of the wrestling ring...
Michael: But you can't take the wrestler out of the man!
[And Jarred trots over to give Michael a high five.]
Jarred: So what are you doing here anyway?
Michael: I forgot to tell ya... I'm the head cut stitcher around here.
Jarred: In English, please?
Michael: *laughing* Chief medic.
Jarred: They put you in charge of the medical staff around here.
Michael: Yup.
Jarred: Then we're all in very good hands. I trust ya, bro.
Michael: That means a lot to me, Jarred, thank you.
Jarred: Hey, any time. Come on, I'll take ya for something to eat.
Michael: One match left.
Jarred: Oh, okay. Find me afterward, then we'll go.
Michael: Deal.
[Jarred and Michael give each other a brotherly hug, then Jarred goes off to his dressing room to get changed. Michael watches him go, then turns back to complete the supply inventory.] --Commercial Break--
Eddie: Ladies and gentalmen, we are back. It has been one amazing night. So many odd face among the new. But one I have yet to see and I'm sure the same question is on the lips of everyone who's ever beejn a fan to the HWC. Where is The Tiger?
Travis: You maybe check the local pound with the other strays?
Eddie: Oh you better hope she didn't hear that.
Travis: She isn't here and I'm happy for that.
Eddie: Anyways we are moments away from our main event! Travis, what a night it's been so far!
Travis: I gotta admit, I'm kinda getting used to this six-sided ring.
Eddie: I think it's a fabulous concept... It allows the high fliers to get more momentum in their moves. Shorter ropes means less slack.
Travis: I can see a lot of damage being caused by those ropes... I LOVE IT!
Eddie: Only you, Travis!
Travis: Yes, only me. What, you were expecting me to say something else!?
[Eddie only shakes his head in wordless dismay, senior referee Walter Powell already in the ring. The alarm that marks the beginning of "Indestructible" plays, followed by the guitar lead, and the curtain parts, revealing Damon "The Demon" Lancaster, a towel around his neck. Damon pauses at the top of the ramp, and throws up three fingers, as an image of a demon's face roaring appears in flames behind him. Damon walks to the ring slowly, ascending the stairs, and stopping on the apron facing the entranceway, throwing up the same three fingers, before rolling backward, over the top rope, into the ring, and tossing the towel out of the ring, turning to look across the ring.]
Eddie: And here we have Damon "The Demon" Lancaster, a newcomer from Pennsylvania.
Travis: Never heard of him.
Eddie: MMA super-fighter, nicknamed "The Demon".
Travis: No way... And WE got him!?
Eddie: Yup. He's all ours.
Travis: This might be the best news of the night.
Eddie: Just wait til you see who he's facing.
[Travis turns to Eddie and perks a brow just as What Do Ya Think About That, starts to play and Redhorn slowly strolls out onto the stage. He stands there grinning slyly looking over the crowd. As the music picks up Redhorn begins to wave the Confederate flag he carries with him. He then begins walking down the ramp to the ring. As he does, Redhorn gets right up on the camera mouthing Blah Blah Blah as he gestures a yapping mouth with his free hand. Pushing past the camera man Redhorn continues on to the ring. Climbing in Redhorn moves to the far side climbing the turn buckle to wave the flag once more.]
Travis: Who is THAT!?
Eddie: That is Jason Redhorn, from Mount Vernon, Tennessee. He prefers going by his last name.
Travis: Redhorn the Redneck?
Eddie: Be careful, Travis, he can hear you.
[Travis sneers, then before anyone can react, Redhorn turns and jabs the end of the flagpole into Damon's stomach! The bell hasn't rung yet so it's legal. And Redhorn knows it. Damon doubles over, but doesn't make a sound. Redhorn raises the flagpole up like an axe and goes to swing it down over Damon's back, only to have it rudely yanked from his hands. He turns around ready to give the referee the sharp side of his tongue when he realizes he's not looking at a referee. No, he's staring at someone far more dangerous than poor old Walter Powell. Dark glasses over his eyes, hair slicked back into a ponytail, he's third in the HWC power structure. Ladies and gentlemen, please meet...]
Eddie: Commissioner Lamont!
Travis: Oh, great, what's HE doing out here!?
Eddie: Keeping things FAIR, that's what!
[Commissioner Lamont, Jude to his friends, beckons for a microphone and is gladly given one.]
Jude: Redhorn, you think you can pull your cheap shenanigans here where there are ten tons of people watching you? You got another thing coming, pal.
[Redhorn grabs his own microphone and gets right in Jude's face.]
Redhorn: I don't know who you think you are, boy, but this ain't none o' yer concern!
Jude: Oh, yes it is... Do you even know who I am?
Redhorn: Don't know, don't rightly care.
Jude: You will...
[A vicious grin spreads across his face and Redhorn starts to get nervous, shifting from one foot to the other.]
Jude: The name's Jude Lamont and I -
[He's cut off by the cheering of the crowd. He smiles and acknowledges them with a half-bow. Redhorn, on the other hand, is staring at Jude with contempt.]
Redhorn: I don't care if you're the Queen freaking Mary. Get to the point, boy!
Jude: Fine.
[The smile falls from his face and he moves until he's within a few inches of the Tennessee redneck.]
Jude: As I was saying, I'm the COMMISSIONER around here, which means that unless stated otherwise, I'm in charge. You get me, BOY?
[Redhorn stares at Jude in something akin to shock. This little PIPSQUEAK is one of his bosses!? Jude grins wickedly again, then leaves the ring with Redhorn's flag. He's at the base of the ramp before he says anything else.]
Jude: And as of now, I am exerting my authority... This match is now NO DISQUALIFICATION. *to the timekeeper* Ring the bell!
Damon Lancaster vs Redhorn
No D.Q. Match
[The bell sounds and this match is finally underway. Redhorn is standing there fuming when Damon hurls himself at his exposed back. Redhorn stumbles forward, bounces off the nearest set of ropes and spins around to face Damon, who's grinning as if to say 'Bring it!' Redhorn lunges at the former MMA super-fighter, only to come up against the ropes and bounce back. Damon comes up behind him and plants a foot in his back, sending the Tennessee redneck bouncing off the ropes again. But Redhorn manages to turn around and catches Damon's foot this time. Smirking, he twists Damon's foot around. Damon cartwheels over and kicks Redhorn with his other foot, more at home inside the six-sided ring than Redhorn is. The six-sided ring reminds Damon of the Octagon, an eight-sided steel-covered ring. So naturally he's more at home there. Redhorn stumbles back and bounces off the ropes, but turns it into a clothesline that leaves Damon lying on the mat. Ignoring the boos from the crowd, Redhorn lifts Damon to his feet for a power slam, but Damon wiggles out of it and lands on his feet behind him. Redhorn turns around at a tap on the shoulder and gets a fist to the jaw. He staggers backward and regains his footing after a few steps. Damon comes rushing at him and gets Redhorn's boot in his face. The impact spins him around and Redhorn flattens him with a foot to the back. The crowd is now solidly booing... And Redhorn could care less!]
Eddie: How despicable.
Travis: You know what's really despicable?
Eddie: You mean besides being stuck at ringside with you!?
Travis: How that little pipsqueak Jude whatshisface came out here and changed the match without warning!
Eddie: That "pipsqueak", as you call him, Travis, is Commissioner Jude Lamont. He has that power, as granted by the president of this company.
Travis: Big whoop.
Eddie: I know something about Commissioner Lamont you don't...
Travis: What, that he's a buttinski?
Eddie: *calmly* He's a bounty hunter.
Travis: Yeah right. ...You're joking, right?
Eddie: Nope. "The Lone Wolf" Jude Lamont. Best bounty hunter Arizona's ever had.
Travis: I think I'll focus on the match now...
[Eddie laughs behind his hand as Redhorn locks Damon in a Tree of Woe and proceeds to stomp on his upper chest. Damon finally swings up, unhooks his feet and flips around to kick Redhorn in the head with both feet. He broke his foot the last time he did that... But not this time. Damon lands on two undamaged feet as Redhorn sprawls out on the mat in front of him. He goes over to lock Redhorn up and gets a finger to the eye. Redhorn then grabs him and unleashes a barrage of closed fists. No DQ means it's perfectly legal. So Walter Powell stands out of the way and lets them fight. Damon finally grabs Redhorn's fist and shoves him backward, then goes for the Final Destination. Can he? YES!!!]
Travis: My God, what IS that!?
Eddie: He calls it Final Destination and it is a Guillotine Choke.
Travis: Redhorn doesn't stand a chance!
[Redhorn starts flailing around in a vain attempt to break the hold... Then he remembers something from an old bar fight he was in once and backs up until he slams Damon into the ringpost. Cold unforgiving steel meet warm vulnerable flesh. The impact forces Damon to re-adjust the hold, but he doesn't let go. The Demon has awoken... Redhorn's only chance is to tap out. Which he does. Powell turns and calls for the bell. Damon still has the hold locked in until Powell reaches around to loosen his hands. Contact breaks the hold and Damon gets to his feet. "Indestructible" rips through the arena and he calmly leaves the ring.]
Travis: My God... What a devastating move that is!
Eddie: It sure is... That is the end of our show! For Travis Best, I am Eddie Danniels and we will see you all next week!
[The transmission dies and as the scene fades. Copyright 2008, Hardcore Wrestling Corp.]