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[The cameras fade in backstage on the garage. The loud roar of an engine, almost animalistic in volume and sound, ripped through the silence of the garage, as a huge bike roared into sight. The bike was entirely black chrome, with a plate with the letters ‘PoM’ raised on it, on the side. The wheels almost seemed the bike equivalent of monster truck tires. The rider looked like a mop with the bottom end painted black, and his head was back. Kearne swung his foot over the top of the bike, looking around. Kearne moved toward the doors, pausing for a moment near a sound tech standing around backstage.]
Kearne: Ya seen any half-retarded rednecks around? [The tech blinked, and Kearne stepped closer.] Do. You. Speak. English? [The tech nodded.] Good. Ya seen a redneck? [The tech looked at the person he was speaking to, then back. Kearne raised an eyebrow.] Ha ha. Funny. Ya seen any OTHER rednecks? [The tech pointed.] Thanks, bub. Make sure nobody touches my bike, or I’m gonna havta take it out on some jackass.
[Kearne stepped into the building, then, and the camera flipped to the arena floor.
“Black Seeds on Virgin Soil” starts up, and images begin flashing on the screen. The first image is of Desiree Black hitting the Living Despair. The image froze at point of impact, then melted away, replaced by Enforcer holding someone aloft, before slamming them around and down for the Enforcing The Law. At the point of impact, the image froze, and melted away, replaced by Jarred on the turnbuckle behind a figure whose identity was blurred out, before snapping backward, into the Heartland Shield. Again, at the point of impact, the footage fades, and is replaced by footage of Redhorn lifting another figure, once more with his identity blurred out, before dropping the victim with the Rise of the South, and, again, before the point of impact, the image froze, and melted away, replaced by footage of Damon Lancaster locking his arms around another unidentified figure, and grapevining the body, bringing the victim down in the Final Destination. As the victim lifted his arm to tap, the image froze, melted away, and, again, was replaced, this time by Jude Lamont, arms folded, then into Marshall Law with a patronizing smile on his face, and finally into B.D., his back to the camera, with Lauren facing the camera. And, after a moment longer, the camera faded to the arena floor, showing a myriad of signs, before settling on the announce position.]
Eddie: Welcome to Delirium, folks, live in the Bradley Center, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin! Tonight, we’re going to see Draven Masters make a return to the HWC, facing off against a new athlete by the name of The Serial Thrilla, the ruthless redneck Redhorn facing off against Hans Kuhmann, a man who seems to have a difficult time getting back into the HWC swing of things, and, for the first time in an extremely long time, we’ll see two women mixing it up in our main event, with newcomer Petra Debeaux facing off against Desiree Black.
Travis: Finally. Two hot chicks going at it. That’s going to be the catfight to end all catfights.
Eddie: Yeah. . . I don’t know anything, really, about this Petra woman, but I know that Desiree Black, last week, took everything Hans Kuhmann and Jarred Dylan had to offer, and came back for more. If Petra isn’t ready, or isn’t expecting a woman to wrestle against her in HWC fashion, she’s going to be in for one hell of a hard night.
[The cameras flipped backstage, then, again, as Redhorn walked out of his locker room to get something to drink. Redhorn paused at the clearing of a throat, turning to look at the person responsible.]
Kearne: Hey, kid. Ya still figure ya lost me?
Redhorn: Listen, ya homo- [Redhorn’s next words were cut short as Kearne’s hand wrapped around his throat and pinned him to the wall.]
Kearne: No, ya listen, ya worthless pile’a crap. I was just tryin ta help yer worthless ass. If ya think yer so goddamn good, tell ya what. Beat the german within bout 2 minutes. I could do it. Yer turn, kid. Do it, or I’m gonna kick yer ass from here back to yer little wood shack out in the middle of the goddamn boonies. Ya get me, punk? [Redhorn nodded.] Good. Don’t make me come find yer ass later, kid. Or I’m gonna chain yer carcass to the back’a my bike and ride.
[Kearne stepped back abruptly, then, releasing Redhorn, Redhorn gasping for air. Kearne stared at Redhorn for a minute, then turned, and walked off.]
Eddie: It seems like even Kearne, who, last week, looked particularly subdued and calm, has a limit to his patience.
Travis: He’s gonna push Redhorn too far, guaranteed, and Redhorn’ll kick his ass.
Eddie: I don’t know about that. Kearne seems to be one of those guys that scares people just because he’s dangerous, and exudes a level of ‘danger’.
--Commercial Break—
[Draven headed out of the locker room he and the Enforcer had for the night. They turned down the hall to grab a couple bottles of water. Draven stopped short when he saw who was at the buffet table.]
"Petra? What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, "How'd you get backstage? Are you following me?"
[Petra turned around, she was holding a plate with a couple of sandwiches and some chips on it. She was wearing a pair of black wide legged pants that had silver lacing up the side and a pair of boots with similar lacing. Her t-shirt once again hugged her breasts and her slender waist.] "What am I doing here? Well at the moment I was getting a snack and trying to find a bottle of Pepsi. How did I get backstage? One guess. You only wish I was following you Draven." [Petra replied sarcastically. Enforcer looked Petra over and gave her a small smile, he noticed though that her outfit looked suspiciously like "in-ring attire".]
"Oh hell." [He turned to the Enforcer who had grabbed a bottle of Pepsi for Petra,] "Did you know about this?"
"Me. Sheeeeeit man, I'm just as surprised as you are."
"So while you were off in LA you got yourself some training and now all the sudden you're a wrestler? Listen Pet, I don't care if Stu Hart himself dug himself out of his grave and trained you. This is the HWC and it's fuckin dangerous here, our president is a raving lunatic for crying out loud."
"First of all Draven, stop calling me Pet! I'm not a little girl anymore, and if you must know while I was off in LA I trained at the Wylde World Wrestling Academy." [she said smiling smugly at her brother.]
"I'll kill him, I'll fucking kill him." [Draven mumbled.]
"Chill, bro." [The Enforcer said,] "Jeff's up in Canada remember? He can't help who goes to the LA branch of his gym to train.”
[Enforcer looked past the steaming Draven and inwardly chuckled at the smug grin Petra had on her face, a smug grin very much like Draven's.]
"You weren't willing to help me Draven! I went and got some of the best help around!" [Petra shouted and drew the attentions of some of the passing crew members and a few wrestlers that were hanging around backstage.] "And guess what? I've got my first match tonight, street fight against some emo wanna be bitch named Desiree. I'm a high flyer Draven. I can take her, and I will beat her! Now if you'll excuse me, I've suddenly lost my appetite!"
[Petra stormed off and the Enforcer caught himself staring at her ass for a moment before shooting out an arm to stop Draven from going after her.]
"Uh-huh," [he said putting his hand on Draven's chest,] "Save it for the Thrilla. But you have a lot of explaining to do!"
"What the hell does that mean?" [Draven asked, as he stopped and glared at his tag partner.]
"What was all that about you not helping her? You trained Ravin but not her?"
"Don't you start in on me too, dammit. I'll explain it later, first I'm gonna go to the ring and beat the shit out this Serial Thrilla idiot. Then I'm gonna come back here and drink me a beer. THEN we'll talk." [He turned to the crew members who had seen the altercation,] "What the fuck you lookin at?"
[They all found better things to do as the Enforcer and Draven grabbed bottles of water and headed back to their locker rooms.]
Lanisha: The following match is a No DQ match, set for one fall. Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 295 lbs, Draven Masters!!!
["Angry Again" kicks in and a huge pyro explosion goes off on the stage, and when the smoke clears, Draven Masters is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face. He uncrosses his arms and heads to the ring, stepping over the top rope and raises his hands as pyro explodes from all four turnbuckle posts. He then stands in a corner and waits for the match to start.]
Eddie: Draven does look pretty good here, tonight. So I have to wonder if this is going to be one-sided, or if this “Serial Thrilla” guy is going to be a challenge.
Travis: TST is going to destroy Draven. Draven is, what, a hundred?
Eddie: He’s 31, Travis.
Travis: Are you sure? He looks at least 60.
Eddie: He lived a hard-partying life when he was younger. It’s probably taking it’s toll on him now.
Lanisha: And his opponent, from Moberly, Missouri, weighing in at 250 lbs, Tha Serial Thrilla!!
[The lights in the arena dim as Burn In My Light by Mercy Drive begins to blast through the sound system. The crowd who knows who is about to step through the curtain lets out a chorus of boo's. Blue, and silver strobe lights begin rapidly flashing throughout the crowd. As the crowds boo's become almost deafening Tha Serial Thrilla steps through the curtain with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. He looks around the crowd who has no desire for him to even be out on stage, and shakes his head. He walks to the end of the stage, and doubles his fists. He throws his arms into the air as an explosion of Pyro showers down upon him. As the pyro slowly comes to an end Tha Thrilla flexes his pecks, and slowly makes his way down the ramp. As the crowd continues to boo Tha Thrilla puts his hand in the air, and motions for the crowd to shut up. Tha Thrilla slides into the ring, and quickly makes his way to the corner. He climbs to the middle turnbuckle, and taunts the crowd. As he hops down he starts stretching his arms waiting for the bell to sound. As the bell sounds, however, Draven’s relatively laid-back attitude fades, and he very nearly destroys TST with a clothesline that takes TST over the top rope. Draven wastes no time, sliding out of the ring behind him, pulling TST to his feet, and setting TST up for a spinebuster, only to drop backward at the last second to drive TST facefirst into the edge of the apron. TST sagged against the apron as Draven walked off, returning with a chair, cracking the chair across TST’s back. As TST’s back arched, Draven drilled him with the chair to the back of the skull. TST dropped facefirst against the edge of the apron. Draven dropped the chair, grabbed TST’s head, turned him around, and pulled Draven from the apron, as if going to throw TST into the announce table, before pivoting and sending TST into the apron again. Draven stepped back then, looking around, and shrugging, once more pulling TST away from the apron. As TST came from the apron, Draven caught him with a back body drop. TST missed the announce table entirely, though, landing back-first on the guardrail behind the announce table. As a very loud “Holy Shit” chant picked up, Draven climbed onto the announce table. As Eddie and Travis scattered, Draven twined his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles, pausing to retrieve the chair again. TST stood, groggily, and very nearly got decapitated by a Draven clothesline. The referee moved outside the ring to check on TST, but Draven waved the ref off, picking TST up as Security moved to clear the area around them, Draven set up the chair in a seated fashion, then lifted TST onto his shoulder. After a moment, Draven dropped, drilling TST into the seat of the chair with the Dravenizer, destroying the chair utterly. Draven hauled TST to his feet again, and, again, drilled him with a Dravenizer, this time into the concrete, before once more pulling him up, this time throwing him over the top of the guardrail, and following him back in, throwing TST into the ring under the bottom rope. Sliding into the ring, Draven pulled TST to his feet, and planted him in the dead center of the ring with a Master Plan, quickly going into the pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!!]
Eddie: Wow. Tha Serial Thrilla never really got out of the blocks.
Travis: We almost died!
Eddie: I doubt that. I think Draven had a plan.
Travis: We almost died!
Eddie: Eloquent as ever, Travis.
[As Delirium prepared to go to commercial, it was on a side-by-side of Redhorn and Hans walking to the ring.]
--Commercial Break—
Eddie: Welcome back, folks, our next match is going to pit two men who are on something of a bizarre roll of late. Redhorn has had minimal success, and he’s going to be facing off against a man with a worse record.
Travis: And Redhorn’s gonna win. I can feel it.
Eddie: You think he can do it in the two minutes Kearne demanded he do that in?
Travis: I don’t think I care. That guy can go take a long walk off of a short pier for all I give a shit.
Lanisha: The following matchup is set for one fall, and will be fought under Hardcore rules. Introducing first, from Mount Vernon, Tennessee, weighing in at 255 lbs, Redhorn!!
[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, a bag of. . . . something, over his shoulder. As he does, Redhorn gets right up on the camera mouthing Blah Blah Blah as he gesture 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 turnbuckle to wave the flag once more.]
Eddie I wonder what’s in that bag. . .
Travis: Probably his liquor. I asked him to bring me some. . .
Eddie: Something tells me, Travis, it’s not liquor.
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, a barbed wire baseball bat in his right hand, and a steel pipe with a rag tied around the end in the other. 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. Redhorn, by this time, had put the bag in the corner, and rushed Hans. Hans, the veteran, simply countered the chair with a swing of the barbed wire baseball bat. The swing stunned Redhorn, sending Redhorn spinning backward and away, a bloody gash opening on his cheek. Redhorn turned, then, and looked at Hans as the smaller guy caught him off-guard with a flying lariat, before sliding under the bottom rope, and grabbing a table. Setting the table up outside the ring, Redhorn climbed up the turnbuckle, launching himself at Hans. Hans ducked away, sending Redhorn through the table he’d just set up. Pulling Redhorn from the wreckage, Hans went for a quick pin. The referee, entirely out of position, quickly exited the ring, moving into position to get a count. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout!]
Eddie: Just like that, Redhorn’s lack of experience is costing him. Hans has been in multiple high-violence matches, and Redhorn’s lack of experience has caused him to make stupid mistakes.
Travis: He’s going to make it, no problem. Redhorn might not have the experience factor, but he damn sure has the power factor. All Redhorn needs to do is get his hands on Hans one time and Hans is doomed.
Eddie: And there, folks, we see the timer.
Travis: Oh, god, what the hell is this shit?!
[Sure enough, on the HWC-Tron, there was a timer, showing that there was about a minute and a half before the ‘time limit’ was up. Hans looked up, then, seeing the time limit himself, and simply stepping back, waiting, to draw the match out as long as possible. Redhorn got up quickly, though, grabbing one of the legs of the table, turning, and cracking Hans in the skull with the bar, before reaching into the ring and grabbing the bat, bringing it down into Hans’ spine. Hans rolled away, then, moving to hide on the other side of the ring steps. As Redhorn pursued him, Hans scrambled toward the announce position, retrieving the ring bell and cracking Redhorn with the bell audibly. As Redhorn dropped, Hans went to the ring, and began looking under the ring for something. After a moment, Hans found it, pulling a gas can from under the ring, and a small pouch. Hans reached into the ring, grabbing the pipe, and soaking the rag in the gas, before lighting the rag on fire. As Redhorn stumbled to his feet, the burning pipe was swung for the fences. Redhorn managed to duck, then, Hans hitting the steel ringpost with the pipe. The burning pipe clattered to the ground, and Redhorn very nearly decapitated Hans with a brutal lariat. At this point, Redhorn himself noticed the timer, and his eyes went wide. Grabbing the bat again, Redhorn began to lay into Hans with a multitude of vicious shots with the barbed wire surface. Grabbing Hans by the throat, he pulled Hans to his feet, and then pivoted, driving Hans back-first into the barbed wire bat with the Rise of the South, quickly floating over into a pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!! The bell rang, and Redhorn stood, glaring at the timer, stopped a scant second from the time limit. Continuing to stare at the clock, Redhorn stepped back, punting Hans in the skull with a foot, then moving around the ring to grab the bag he’d brought with him into the ring. Dragging the bag over to the corner nearest Hans, Redhorn pulled a rope from the bag, and rather quickly hogtied Hans. Hans chose that moment to come to, and, as he did, he saw Redhorn pull the other object from the bag, a branding iron with a capital R inside a circle. Putting the end of the branding iron in the flame on the burning pipe, Redhorn pulled it back after the end was red hot, and pressing the hot surface into Hans’ ass. Hans screamed, and Redhorn stepped back when the iron no longer glowed. Staring down at Hans, Redhorn sneered, and the spit on Hans’ bound body, before grabbing his flag and walking up the ramp, the crowd booing him riotously.]
Eddie: My god. . . . what the hell just happened? It almost seemed like Kearne’s threat may have awoken a new kind of monster in Redhorn. . .
Travis: That was . . .
Eddie: Disgusting?
Travis: Incredible! Maybe that Kearne guy is good for Redhorn! Anyone that can make Redhorn even MORE evil is a good guy in my book!
Eddie: Folks. . . I need a break. So, we’ll be back after a commercial. . .
--Commercial Break—
[The Enforcer sat in the locker room, feet up on a chair, beer in hand, watching the monitor feed from the cameras in the arena. The door slammed open and Draven came storming in slamming the door shut behind him.]
Enforcer: You break it, you bought it.
Draven: Now is not the fuckin' time E.
Enforcer: Sit down, have a beer and tell me what the hell is going on with you and Petra, I haven't seen you this mad since Martin disowned you.
[Draven grabbed a beer from the cooler, popped it open and took a long drink before letting out an ear shattering belch. He sat down and looked at the Enforcer.]
Draven: Alright, I'm going to give you the full story, no one knows this, not Pet, not Dave, not even Ravin knows this. (sighs) When Martin and I came to HWC, you gotta remember I was "drinking the Kool-Aid" so to speak. I was stupid enough to believe what Martin told me. When I told him I wanted to bring the girls in, he laughed at me and told me to leave them out of it. But when it comes to my sisters, even Martin can't stop me. Pet was still in college and Ravin had been taking some wrestling lessons on the side from Dory Funk down in Florida. I agreed to finish her training, and we managed to keep it a secret from Martin. I told Petra I was waiting for her to finish school before I started training her. But when I took over Ravin's training she claimed I lied to her and was only training Ravin because she was older. Before I could explain she slapped me and stormed off. After she graduated she disappeared, I called her repeatedly and left her messages explaining why I did what I did, but either, she didn't want to listen, and thought I was lying through my teeth, or she never even listened to the messages and just erased them. Either way, I never really got the chance to explain things to her. When I saw my brother at my wedding I asked him if he could explain the situation to Pet, but either he forgot, or she turned my words against me. Either way, the other night was the first time I saw her in five years.
[The Enforcer had killed his beer while Draven talked and popped another as he finished.]
Enforcer: Look man, I'm no counselor, hell I don't even have any siblings, but you need to sit her down and talk to her and let her know the situation. Don't let her cut you off, don't let her twist things around. Just sit her down and tell her same thing you just told me. You can't let this go on man, it'll drive the both of you crazy.
[Draven sighs and takes another drink of beer emptying the can.]
Draven: I hate it when you're right. Keep that up and people are going to think you're smart or something. Alright, I'll see if I can get her to listen to my side of things. In the meantime pass me another beer, and let's see what she's learned.
[Enforcer hands over another beer as the two turn their attention to the monitor.]
Eddie: It seems like there may be some problems in the Masters household.
Travis: Who cares? Did you see that sister of his?!
Eddie: Nice to know you can always focus on the business, Travis.
[The camera switched to backstage, as Petra exited her locker room, rolling her shoulders to make sure they were loose enough, and pausing at seeing the slightly less-visible figure of the wife of the President standing in her path. Lauren smiled.]
Lauren: Good evening, Miss Debeaux. I’m Lauren. . . something of an advocate for the President of the HWC.
Petra: I know who you are. What’s up?
Lauren: I was speaking to Jude earlier, and he mentioned something about someone with a striking resemblance to you, although male, having a problem getting a work visa, or permission to stay in the states. I’ve already spoken to Jude. Here.
[Lauren extended a smallish business card.]
Lauren: If you decide to take us up on the offer, we are willing to assist your brother in his goal to bring this woman to the states. Think about it, Petra.
Petra: What’s the catch? [Lauren smiled disarmingly.]
Lauren: The catch, of course, Petra, is that she’d be an employee of ours. Which means I would expect her and your brother to be at the show every week. Other than that. . . well, of course, there is one catch. You’d be responsible for keeping them away from my husband. . . he’s something of a collector.
Petra: A collector?
Lauren: Yes. He collects bloodstains on his chair. But, other than that, if that sounds good to you and your brother, please, by all means, give us a call. If you can’t get a response from my cellphone, feel free to call Jude.
[Lauren nodded, then, and turned to walk off, as Petra walked toward the ring, putting the card in her boot.]
Eddie: Seems like there’s a feeling of goodwill backstage for this newcomer.
Travis: I know I have some things I’d like to share with her. . .
Eddie: You DO realize that that’s Draven’s sister, right?
Travis: Oh yeah. . . we almost died!
Eddie: And we’re back to the loop. Alright, well, let’s go to the ring, then, where Desiree Black has made her entrance already.
Lanisha: And her opponent, from-
Jude: Hold it right there, Lanisha.
[Jude Lamont stepped onto the stage, mic in hand.]
Jude: This is a Street Fight. Not an Arena fight. Miss Black, you’re in the wrong place. You need to be in the parking lot. Or possibly the street. Also, due to Redhorn's actions earlier tonight, I am suspending him for a week. [This announcement got a loud round of cheers.]
[Desiree blinked, then simply dropped out of the ring and bolted backstage. The camera followed her. As Desiree shouldered the doors open, she was caught by a swung pipe, Desiree’s momentum preventing her from being able to stop in time, and causing her to skid on her back slightly, when she landed. Petra pursued Desiree with the pipe, taking a shot whenever an opening availed itself. Finally, Desiree managed to move as the pipe was swung, the impact with the ground temporarily stunning Petra. Desiree got to a knee, and tackled Petra to the ground, firing punches into Petra’s face. After a few moments of unanswered punches, Petra blocked a punch, and threw Desiree to the side, climbing to her feet and going for the pipe again. Desiree got up before Petra had done so, however, grabbing Petra by the collar of her ring attire, and throwing her into the side of a nearby ambulance. Petra stumbled back from the ambulance, Desiree grabbing the pipe, and swinging at Petra’s skull. Petra ducked, and speared Desiree before the swing contacted the ambulance. Pulling Desiree up, Petra dragged her over to a nearby car, throwing Desiree over the hood, driving Desiree headfirst into the front windshield. Going back to grab the pipe again, Petra pursued Desiree, and, by the time Petra neared Desiree, Desiree had gotten to a low crouch. Petra climbed onto the hood of the car herself, and brought the pipe down, looking to obliterate Desiree with an overhead swing. Desiree rolls to the side at the last possible second, Petra’s swing carrying the pipe’s top end into the roof of the car. Before Petra could recover and re-acquaint herself, Desiree caught her with a right hook, followed by a kick to the midsection, and a short-range clothesline. Petra toppled over onto the roof of the car, and Desiree grabbed her ankle, pulling Petra up enough that Desire could grab her head, setting Petra up for a suplex, and, before anyone, including Petra herself, could begin to realize what Desiree intended, Desiree had suplexed Petra off of the roof of the car onto the concrete of the parking lot, before floating over into a pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . Petra rolls the shoulder a half second before the referee hit three.]
Eddie: Folks, this is the difference between the HWC an other promotions. Our women aren’t just pretty faces, they’re also easily vicious enough to hold their own with anyone.
Travis: I think I saw a wardrobe malfunction. Lemme rewind. . .
Eddie: Dammit Travis, call the match!
Travis: I am. I saw a boob.
Eddie: God, you’re a pig.
[Desiree looks up at the referee as the referee confirmed it was only a 2. Desire responded simply, by grabbing a handful of Petra’s hair, and dragging her toward the car the pipe had decimated the roof of, kicking the window out and opening the door, before dragging Petra over to rest her head in the doorframe. Petra, in this position, was obscured by the door itself, as Desiree stepped back, before rushing the door, and kicking the door closed. No sooner had the door slammed shut that Petra sailed from behind the door itself, having obviously recovered enough she had evaded the attempt to potentially end her career and life, with a move that started off looking like a flying lariat, but quickly metamorphosed into a flying chokehold. Petra pressed Desiree into the ground, throttling her openly, and, as the referee moved in to check on Desiree, a foot came from nowhere, punting Petra in the skull. As Petra toppled to the side, Romeo checked on his woman. Petra got up, eyes as close to aflame with rage as humanly possible, charging Romeo. Romeo sidestepped, planting a hand on Petra’s skull and throwing her. Petra collided with Kearne’s bike, the bike toppling over, Petra sailing over the toppled bike herself. Romeo continued to check on Desiree, as Petra simply laid on the ground, bleeding from the point of impact. Romeo grabbed Desiree, pulling her over to drape her over Petra, and leaning on Desiree’s back to add extra weight to the pin. Before the referee had gotten into position, though, a chain came from behind Romeo, wrapping around Romeo’s throat and jerking him up and backward, hurling Romeo into the side of the production truck. Desiree released the pin to look at the newcomer, Kearne pointing at Romeo in an unspoken threat. Desiree rushed Kearne, tackling Kearne to the ground. Kearne shoved Desiree off easily, then moved to continue to isolate Romeo. Petra rushed Desiree as she rose, kicking Desiree in the skull. Desiree stumbled backward, into the fence separating the parking lot from the street itself. Desiree stepped forward, from the fence, only to have Petra catch her with a spear, driving Desiree through the fence, onto the sidewalk. Both women took a few moments to recover, and, when they began to stand, neither of them were standing on particularly steady legs. Both women began to trade punches then, Desiree catching Petra with a sharp right hook, sending Petra stumbling. Desiree rushed forward, shoving Petra headfirst into a streetlight, then walking off, returning with the pipe Petra had started using against her. As Petra stood, Desiree began to swing the pipe, catching Petra multiple times with the pipe before catching Petra with an inverted backbreaker. Dropping Petra to the ground, Desiree went for a pin. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout!!]
Eddie: Oh my god. . . this match is STILL going on! What will it take for either of these two women to put the other down?!
Travis: I don’t know, but whatever it is, I hope it involves both of them getting naked and oil.
Eddie: You are the biggest pervert on the planet, Best.
Travis: No, I’m straight. I don’t go out to get my hair styled by other gay guys like you do.
Eddie: Oh, very mature, Best. . .
[Desiree rocked back onto her knees, then grabbed the pipe again, and began to choke Petra with the pipe itself. A roar came from the parking lot, and then Kearne rode through the wrecked gate, and off into the night, Desiree looking up for a moment. That moment was enough for Petra to catch Desiree with a kick to the head, before rolling to the side, picking up the pipe, and cracking Desiree, audibly, on the side of the head. Now it was Petra’s turn to disappear, the camera focusing on Desiree, now, showing that she, too, was busted open, now. When the camera looked up, to find Petra, it came up without Petra in sight. As the camera moved back toward Desiree, however, it caught on some movement, and focused on the movement. The movement turned out to be Petra, climbing onto a pile of boxes. Petra then climbed onto the top of the chain link fence, taking a breath, and sailing from the fence with an attempt at the Kiss of Death swanton. Desiree rolled away, though, and Petra simply landed, back-first, on the concrete. Petra’s body arched, and she simply writhed in pain as both women took several moments to recover. When Petra got up, she was holding her back, Desiree her skull, which was obviously still ringing from the shot with the pipe. Petra darted forward, going for a clothesline, which Desiree ducked, and responded with a clothesline of her own. Petra, in turn, ducked that clothesline, and both women just began slugging it out, firing punches at one another with every last iota of strength both women had. Desiree got the advantage first, though, sending Petra stumbling backward, and moving to pursue Petra. Petra, however, countered with a kick to the midsection, and hit a swinging neckbreaker, falling onto Desiree. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout! Petra looked up at the referee, eyes wide, running a hand back through her hair as she tried to think of what else she could throw at Desiree, to put her away, something Desiree herself was also trying to think of. Desiree stood, slowly, then, both women going for a clothesline at the same time.]
Eddie: These two women are now resorting to basic moves. This match is going to go the route of finding out who can drop the other with enough energy left to capitalize with the pin.
Travis: [Groaning]
Eddie: WOULD YOU PUT THAT AWAY!
[Petra rolled over, then, draping an arm over Desiree. 1 . . . 2 . . . desperation kickout! Desiree, then, draped herself over Petra. 1 . . . 2 . . . kickout again! After a few more moments, both women began to get to their feet, Desiree threw a wild punch, staggering Petra, who retaliated in kind, both women seemingly just barely conscious. Both women continued to trade blows, Desiree throwing a desperation wild punch, Petra ducking the shot, and going for a german suplex, only to have Desiree vault backward, landing on her feet. Petra turned toward Desiree, only to get kicked in the stomach, Desiree setting Petra up for the Living Despair. Lifted into the air, Petra began to throw punches into Desiree’s face, and, after a few quick shots, swinging around and down, hitting a hurracanrana to Desiree. Petra stood, then, and began to climb the fence again. As Petra climbed, slowly, nearing the top of the fence, Desiree stood, and grabbed Petra’s foot. Petra kicked down at Desiree with her right foot, only to have Desiree catch her foot in a tighter grip, pulling on Petra’s leg a few times, before Petra lost her grip, and dropped, Desiree catching the falling Petra in a powerbomb, sitting down with Petra, although the force and energy used would drain what little energy Desiree had left, both women sprawled out, now. The referee moved to make sure both Desiree and Petra were still conscious, and, after confirming they were, he’d step back. In the background, Romeo appeared, clutching a tire iron. Before he could get near either, though, a giggle split the air, and the camera snapped up as Romeo looked up, both the camera and Romeo watching as an insane, chair-wielding psycho dropped from the top of the fence, driving the chair into Romeo’s skull with enough force to render Romeo unconscious. Desiree moved to pin Petra, after a few more moments of struggling. 1 . . . 2 . . . last second kickout!! Several more long moments passed before either woman could move again, at which point Desiree pulled Petra to her feet, and moved to set Petra up for the Living Despair again. Once more, she got Petra up, only to have Petra slip free, and drop down in front of Desiree, kick her in the stomach, and hit her with a second French Kiss swinging neckbreaker, landing with her arm outstretched, arm landing on the fallen form of Desiree. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!!]
Eddie: Petra won! And, I don’t think either of these two women are going to be partying tonight. A match like that. . . I’d be surprised of either of these two women can make it to their hotel rooms tonight, without help.
Travis: I’ll help Petra. . . .
Eddie: And Draven will kill you.
Travis: Nah. I’ll pretend I don’t speak English.
Eddie: What?!
Travis: I dunno. I had to talk to B.D. earlier. . . I think he rubbed off on me or something.
Eddie: Well, that’s all for us, folks. Be with us next week, as the HWC redefines the word Hardcore.
[The transmission dies and as the scene fades. Copyright 2008, Hardcore Wrestling Corp.]