Merry Time Massacre 2012

Fine Wine Presents…

The Rebel Tron turns black. In a fancy white text, the following appears.

“Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie Present: Road to Merry Time Massacre.”

“Part One: Highway To The Danger Zone”

Revvin’ up your engine
Listen to her howlin’ roar

We see a foot step onto a pedal.

Metal under tension
Beggin’ you to touch and go

A gloved hand stretches out it’s fingers before gripping a handlebar.

Highway to the danger zone
Ride into the danger zone

We see the mouth and chiseled chin of someone as the gloved hands tighten the strap on a helmet around the chin.

Headin’ into twilight
Spreadin’ out her wings tonight

Lastly, we see the man from behind. He rolls his shoulders as his leather jacket stretches across his back and shoulders. We see “Nasty” written at the top.

She got you jumpin’ off the track
And shovin’ into overdrive
Highway to the danger zone

We pan out to see Mark McNasty sitting on a little pink tricycle. The music comes to a complete stop.

McNasty: WILKIE!

Alex Wilkie saunters onto camera. He’s wearing black jogging pants, a crappy t-shirt with flannel jacket over it, and he’s holding a bucket of chicken to boot.

Wilkie: Yes Mark?

McNasty: What the hell man? We already went over this plan. You were supposed to get us some bad ass bikes, we do an 80′s montage of us training for this all-important match against Allen Chaney, and BOOM, he’s so intimidated he can’t think straight. Why the hell did you get a tricycle; and a damn pink one mind you?!?!

Wilkie takes a bite of chicken and talks as he smacks it around in his mouth.

Wilkie: Well Mark…you should be thanking me…That pretty little thing you’re sitting on cost me the rest of my Twinkie money. Oh, speaking of.

Wilkie reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a Twinkie before shoving it in his mouth. McNasty is simply face palming repeatedly as Wilkie eats.

McNasty: Alright, look. Maybe we can still salvage this. I got us each a cameraman,

McNasty points to the camera we have been seeing, and another guy behind Wilkie.

McNasty: Let’s get the best footage of us we can training for this match…mesh it together, and then reconvene later to come up with a strategy.

Wilkie: Alright. Sounds good.

Wilkie takes another bite of chicken.

Wilkie: I even know what song to use.

McNasty: Alright buddy. I’ll see you soon.

McNasty pulls some sunglasses out of his pocket and puts them on. He looks out to the street, before riding off on the tricycle… well, as best he can with his knees practically bumping into his face with every turn of the pedals. We switch cameras to the one behind Wilkie as McNasty’s camera man follows him. As Wilkie chews, he casually turns to the man behind him.

Wilkie: Alright man, I hope you’re ready for this. Cause it’s gonna get intense!

Wilkie is close to the man and pointing at him with a chicken leg. Without moving his head, Wilkie takes a huge bite of the chicken leg. He finally turns and walks off. The white font writes out,

“To Be Continued.”

The Comeback

We see Tony Edison and Erik Loomis sitting in the Williamsport High School gymnasium. Edison walks around and stares up at the banners, especially the one with his class on it, the 2004 Millionaires definitely were a force to be reckoned with. The high school basketball team is practicing in the background, and they seem to not even notice the two men across the gym from them.

It’s such a great feeling to be home. Home is where the heart is, after all, or so they say. They also said back in the day that I was too small to be a wrestler. But hey, I guess I got my point across now, didn’t I? Anyway, what brings me back here is that we are about a month in to high school basketball season, and I wanted to see how my boys were doing.

He looks around.

This gym though, it brings back quite a few old memories. Some memories best left forgotten, but also some memories that I’ll always remember. The same feeling ran through me when we returned to the Underground Arena, and I must admit that I’m surprised it hit me the way that it did. It hasn’t been all that long since the purchase, but you can just feel all the differences.

He sits on the bleachers next to Loomis, and the camera moves to the other side, so now the team practicing is behind the cameraman.

And now we travel to Quebec for the REBEL Pro Merrytime Massacre. Facing a team by the name of Might & Magic. I know nothing about these guys, but I know about Erik Loomis and myself.

Loomis looks into the camera.

And what do we know about us? We know that we push shit to the limit, week after week. We fight our hearts out every time we go to that ring, and we are absolute warriors. We might not be the greatest in-ring performers, but we are good enough to get what we need.

And what we need now is to go out there and beat us some Magic ass. As far as being all “Pee Wee Herman” nice guy whatever Salazar talked about a few weeks back, things change. I still am a tough bastard, and I still am a great nice guy, but something had to give. I was taking my life pretty much nowhere, and I wasn’t letting my career end on a second tier level. So I’m going to do whatever I have to do, and beat whoever I have to beat. We will beat whoever we have to beat. This week it happens to be Might & Magic.

Edison and Loomis look at each other, then the camera.

Guys, sorry about your luck.

See you in the ring.

Edison and Loomis go back to watching the practice, as the camera pans and cuts to black.

Tag Team Match

The Uproars versus Might & Magic

Edison clotheslines Dragon while Loomis deals with Moke Doshky. Loomis however gets body slammed by Moke. Moke with a leg drop onto Loomis while Edison suplexes The Dragon hard onto the canvas. Edison quickly up and heads for the ropes, flying off the top rope with a missile dropkick on Moke Doshky before Moke can continue his brutal assault on Erik Loomis. Edison with a springboard moonsault lands hard on Moke and covers, but he only gets a 1 count.

The Dragon hits a fishermans suplex on Edison as Edison gets to his feet and covers, but only gets a 1 count himself. Loomis from behind dropkicks Dragon in the back of his head, giving Edison a chance to recover and manage a springboard forearm smash on Moke Doshky. But Moke isn’t too phased and he charges at both Loomis and Edison, knocking the Uproars down with his shoulders. The Uproars are back on their feet though but here comes The Dragon off the top rope, landing a beautifully executed hurricanrana on Edison. Edison rolls out of the ring momentarily to recover. Loomis spears Doshky into the ropes and Edison from outside the ring grabs him by the feet and sweeps the big man off his feet. Dragon goes up behind Loomis however and a full nelson suplex takes Loomis down. But Edison grabs a lead pipe from under the ring and slides in.

Edison swings at Dragon as Dragon gets up. He takes him down and drops the pipe, heads up top, END GAME! Edison covers as Loomis jumps over the top rope to keep Moke out of the ring. 1! 2! 3!!! The Uproars are victorious!

Peanut Butter and Nachos

The scene opens up on the REBEL Pro locker room, Jaice Wilds taking a moment after his comeback match. He throws his ring attire into his bag, grinning as he takes in the air. He turns, noticing the camera.

Jaice Wilds: I gotta give it to Bobby. Guy has heart, maybe the biggest in the business. Win or lose- though, mostly lose- he brings 100% to the table every time. Bobby, I just want to say thanks for the match, it was fun. But now I set my sights on another opponent.

Jaice takes a moment, reaching into his locker and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He reads it over quickly, then throws it in his pocket.

Jaice Wilds: Simon has given me a chance to prove myself again at Merry Time Massacre. And to do so, he’s placed me in a match against a new face. Mike Majere. I assume he’s one of those UX crossover guys, but I could be wrong. In any case, I haven’t a whole lot of subject matter on the guy, so the best I can do is say welcome.

Welcome, Mike, to the biggest match in your REBEL career. Welcome to Merry Time Massacre, where blood is spilled, sweat drops like rain and careers are altered forever. Welcome to the induction ceremony where you will find yourself baptized in a pool of your own blood, sacrificed to the Wrestling Gods for the entertainment of the masses. Welcome to the day of atonement, when you and your ilk will find yourselves standing in misery and wonder at the full power of this company. Welcome to the greatest challenge of your life, as you have been placed at the precipice of destruction. The cards have been dealt, and you have the chance- nay, the opportunity- to stare into the face of death.

Jaice takes a moment, breathing in. He grins, nodding.

Jaice Wilds: My name is Jaice Wilds. And you’ll come to find that I am the God of Annihilation in REBEL Pro. But that… well, that’s for another day, another time to find out. For now, take your moment in the sun as your last days pass by, allowing you rest and comfort. I’ll see you at Massacre.

Jaice laughs as he grabs his bag, heading for the door. The camera follows him until the door closes behind, leaving us with the view of… well, the camera in the mirror. Because apparently, that’s how we roll. Or something.

Jolly Time Singles Match

Jaice Wilds versus Mike Majere

Hey guys, its Linzi Martin. This match is from my perspective. Not Larry Gordon, though. Nobody really cares about his thoughts because he doesn’t really add much to a match unless it’s one Bubba J is in, because Gordon likes shitting on him and vice-versa. Anyway, our opening bout is one of those dark horse sorts that feels throwaway if you’re a fan who believes only ‘important’ matches are contenderships or for ‘da big 1’ so to speak, but I tend to think every match counts for something; may it be track record, momentum, presence, what have you.

Out first is Jaice Wilds, who returned a week prior to this show against Bobby Lee, and they had a fifteen minute dance, but Wilds eventually overcame the predictable Bobby Lee. Similar to Jaice, Mike Majere randomly showed up to participate in a spontaneous threeway match with C-Luke and Jeremy Gold last week, as well. Unlike Jaice, it took Majere a mere three minutes to wipe out his two opponents. Impressive, wouldn’t you agree?

Mike Majere isn’t a stranger for some fans that followed Underground X, where he was featured mostly as the manager of former Uncensored Champion John Johnson, but soon after Johnson quietly left the promotion, Majere came out of semi-retirement to have a small feud with Leroy, UX’s sole cameraman, to defend the honor of a girl named Vanessa (UX’s sole ring announcer / backstage interviewer) and that about sums up what Majere has done as of late. However, it’s enough to get a good reaction from tonight’s crowd. When Jaice comes out, his reaction is louder and sweeter, unsurprisingly, given his previous run in the AOWF.

The two immediately tie up at the sound of the bell. Back and forth the two wristlock and arm drag, whip each other to the ropes, leapfrog over and roll beneath one another, but ultimately, Majere catches a flying-crossbody Wilds and slams him across a bent knee! Not bothering to lateral press, Majere drives elbows into Wilds stomach! After the first two boney hits to his gut, Jaice throws three right punches, but not the first nor second or third could cease Majere’s flow. A fourth swing, however, smashed into Majere’s head so well, Mike dropped onto his side and his head bounced off the canvas!

Apparently unconscious from that last punch, Mike laid still for Jaice to appropriately ascend a nearby turnbuckle and take flight for one helluva corkscrew senton!! John Chellios promptly counts the one-two-three when Jaice hooks the leg, authorizing Jaice Wilds winner by pinfall!

WHAT THE HELL??? While Jaice was celebrating on the turnbuckle, he’s pulled down off of it and turned around to take a Stunner!! Bubba J hit the stunner (trailer park trash) on Jaice Wilds!! Mike Majere was being assisted to the back by Chellios until Macca shoved Chellios away and gave Majere the Stunner, too! The fans are mostly unsure of what’s happening, and don’t know whether to jeer or cheer for this, but there are some who chant their names anyway. The ‘Toughest Bastards’ flip the two laid out men middle fingers before hopping the guardrail and slapping the hands of fans as they pass by. Hmmm, we need some answers.

Part Two

The Rebel Tron again turns black. Just as before, the fancy white text returns.

“Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie Present: Road to Merry Time Massacre.”

“Part Two: Training Montage”

We open on a mountain side road. We see a car or two pass, but finally in the distance we see someone riding towards us.

Try to be best
‘Cause you’re only a man
And a man’s gotta learn to take it

The man is now close enough for us to see him. It’s Mark McNasty…and for some reason he is still on the pink tricycle. He rides past the camera.

Try to believe,

We switch to Alex Wilkie. He is sitting at a table with a bunch of hot dogs in front of him.

Though the going gets rough

We see a sped up video of Wilkie shoving in food left and right.

That you gotta hang tough to make it

We come back to regular time to see Wilkie sweating as he looks at a hot dog in hand. He gets a determined look on his face and shoves the last hot dog into his mouth.

History repeats itself
Try and you’ll succeed

We see McNasty doing chin ups on a pull up bar.

Never doubt that you’re the one
And you can have your dreams!

We quick pan to McNasty at a starting line on a racing track. Former McNasty manager Joey Spumoni is standing next to the line. He reaches into his leather jacket, produces a large hand gun, and fires into the air.

You’re the best!
Nothing’s gonna ever keep you down

Other people on the track drop to the ground and cover their heads as McNasty goes zooming down the track. Spumoni meanwhile hides the gun in his jacket and walks off rather quickly, while whistling.

You’re the Best!

Back to Wilkie. He is running on a treadmill in a jogging suit. But after just a few seconds, he pulls a straw closer to him and the camera zooms out to show a Big Gulp slushie sitting in the drink holder on the treadmill.

Nothing’s gonna ever keep you down
You’re the Best!

We finish with a verticle split screen. On one side, McNasty raises his arms as he reaches the end of the track, breaking yellow tape. On the other, Wilkie looks to be stressing his mouth to suck down the very last drops of the slushie. The music crescendos on both men standing with arms raised. The scene fades. The white font writes out,

“To Be Continued.”

Santa’s Grotto Grudge Match

Jake Norton versus “Bad Man” Reece Jackson

Guess whose perspective matters? Me. Yeah, that’s right! Linzi Martin here again, and our next match plays big on the Christmas theme.

Jake Norton is hesitantly walking with referee Tommy Idol in tow toward a large door with a wreath and red & green bow slapped on top of it.

Jake Norton: “All I have to do is walk in that room and come out, and I’ll have won?”

Tommy Idol: “Yes. This is basically a boiler room brawl but themed Christmas.”

Grabbing the door handle, Norton turns it and opens for a huge wave of snowflakes to burst through along with harsh, cold air brushing against his and Idol’s faces!

Jake Norton: “What the hell?? I can’t see a thing!”

Neither can the cameraman or us viewers at ringside and home due to the seemingly endless stampede of snowflakes!

Jake Norton: “I’m going in!”

Norton carefully walks through the storm of what is pink viagra snow, and our brave cameraman follows behind. When the door is shut, this match is officially underway.

Bad Man: “Welcome, Jakey, to the Bad Santa’s domain!”

Bad Man’s voice booms all godlike.

Jake Norton: “Show yourself, bad man!”

The storm abruptly ends but the difficulty in seeing does not, thanks to a sudden surge of does cialis do light! Light bulbs colored red and green brightly shine throughout the room.

Bad Santa: “Bad Santa will fill your stocking with Betty White’s shit!”

Out of nowhere, Bad Santa bum rushes Norton and tackles him into a stack of presents! All forty large boxes tumble on top of them. We hear groaning and shuffling for a few seconds, and then Bad Santa emerges with Norton’s head! Oh, it’s still attached to his body. Thank god. Next, Bad Santa drags Norton over to a ‘reindeer’ pen. No, they’re not actually reindeer but cardboard cutouts. The pile of shit Bad Santa just shoved Norton headfirst into on the other hand may be real! Gross.

Coughing violently to confirm our suspicion, Norton tries to push himself up off the wooden gate Bad Santa has him pressed against, but Bad Santa’s fury of forearms force Norton to stay bent. Grabbing a large candy cane, Bad Santa breaks it over Norton’s back!

Bad Santa: “You make Bad Man do this, Jakey! It didn’t have to be this way. If only you kept to the Bad Way and not this bullshit niceness.”

Taking a shit-covered Norton by the hair, Bad Man leads them both toward a little house that has a giant ‘Santa’s Workshop’ sign above it. We can’t tell what’s inside the house; even though there are windows and the lights are on. Bad Santa goes for an Irish whip but Norton reverses! Bad Santa goes through the window, headfirst! Glass shatters and Bad Santa is cursing loudly in pain!

Jake Norton: “This is exactly why I am a nice one now! I can’t deal with this bad shit anymore. I don’t want to rape Bruce in the showers, Baddy. I don’t want to stab Timmy Thompson in the eye with a fork again. And I definitely don’t want to take another fucking bubble bath with Macca, that smelly aussie cunt!”

Bad Santa: “Fine! Just go, then! Bad Santa doesn’t need you.. Bad Santa doesn’t need anyone to care.. Bad Santa been alone for most of his life! Because only Bad Santa can handle and do bad things.”

Bad Santa drops to the floor, bleeding profusely from his sliced open forehead.

Bad Santa: “Bad Santa loves you, Jakey. You’ll always be Bad Santa’s son.. Bad Santa just doesn’t know how to express himself..”

Tears and a muffled cry spills from Bad Santa. This would be a heart wrenching moment if not for this ridiculous setup.

Jake Norton: “I love you too, Bad Man.”

Norton drops to his knees to hold his adoptive father. And the awkward hug goes for a full minute. Fans are already chanting “boring”. Christ!

Jake Norton: “Come on, Baddy. Let’s stop this unnecessary fighting. We can walk out the door, together!”

And so, Norton and Bad Santa limp their way toward the door and open it, and then pass through it. But then STUNNER! STUNNER! STUNNER! MACCA HIT JAKE NORTON WITH THE STUNNER!

Macca: “Merry Christmas, Baddy!”

Bad Santa and Macca embrace, over Norton’s laid out body.

Bad Santa: “Macca, you’re Bad Man’s favorite son.”

Bad Santa then spits on Jake Norton!

Macca: “I knew you’d like your gift. Anyway, Baddy, Bubba and I are running from security. Care to join us?”

Bad Santa: “Oh, Bad Man would love to, but Bad Man has to go find Cesar Salazar’s door and shit on it again for old time’s sake.”

Macca: “Cheers!”

Macca kisses Bad Santa on the cheek, and then is off like the wind down a hallway off-camera.

Tommy Idol: “You do know that this match ended in a draw, right?”

Bad Santa looks at Tommy Idol for a few seconds in silence.


Bad Santa continues chanting Tommy’s name loudly at him as Idol stares at Bad Santa very much confused.


Earlier in the week, Allen wanders down the hallways of the REBEL Pro offices with a huge duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He heads to the door of a very big and important looking office with a sign on it that reads ‘VACATION’. Allen points to the camera and motions for them to keep a lookout. The cameraman turns and has a look around and something unfortunate happens to the door offscreen before the cameraman turns back to look at it and hey! It’s open! Movie magic! Allen steps in and behind the desk, setting the bag down before he begins addressing the camera, wearing his trademark sleeveless flannel and bloody smiley ‘Comedian’ shirt.

“You know I thought a lot about what happened on the last Aggression, so I sat down and I cooled off before I wrote out a reasoned and logical series of complaints about what Simon Kalis did to me last week. I just showed up in his office at REBEL headquarters and he appears to be busy, so I figure I’ll just leave it on his desk.” says Allen. He then places the three sheets of stapled pieces of paper on the desk before putting on a pair of work gloves.

“And I figured after that I might dump a bag of manure on his desk.” says Allen, who does in fact pick up a bag of manure and dump it all over Simons desk.

“And to finish that off, I figured I’d dump some lighter fluid on top of the poop and throw a lit match on top of it.” he says before he in fact squirts lighter fluid on top of the pile of poop before lighting a match on casually dropping it on the pile. It goes up in flames and Allen picks up his bag and casually strolls of, the cameraman following after him as he heads to the break room and pours himself a cup of coffee. He turns to the camera.

“Hi Simon. How’s it going? I bet you are watching this with a heavy amount of interest now and that was part of my goal aside from making us even for the little Screwjob you pulled on me. A part of me just wants to ignore it and crack jokes and sit here with a smug look on my face, maybe do a funny bit about…I dunno… talking about how your eyehole is probably a tighter fuck than your daughters twat buuuuut there’s a bigger part of me that would like to impart the following to you.” says Allen, his eye twitches and the coffee mug in his hand shatters under the force of his grip.

“If you EVER try and fuck me again, I will create a path of destruction that will leave this company and everything you ever loved exactly as I left your desk; A Fuck you flaming pile of shit. I fucking PROMISE you, Simon. If I see you getting involved in my match, I’m gonna make every little bit of the terrible shit that has happened to you…The Crucifixion, the Confederate Flag trip… I’m going to make those look like the opening tutorial level of a video game. I fucking DARE you to take me there, Simon because for once I am NOT joking. Take every conception of what you think I am capable of and shove it up your unlubricated turd-cutter. I want you to sit back, have a tall glass of egg nog and watch as I win the Number One Contenders trophy before I cash it in at the next big show and beat the fuck out of someone named ‘Robinson’. Doesn’t matter which one.”

Allens eye twitches once more before he takes a deep breath, calmed down by the sprinklers that go off. We hear a fire alarm in the distance as Allen grabs a non-broken cup and pours himself more coffee, seemingly not caring about all the chaos that is unfolding around him.

“As far as Fine Wine goes, I almost had you fuckers beat before Simon got involved and I have very recently easilly beaten more than one person. I know you two have more experience than he does, but I suggest you use both bits of that information to comfort yourself after I’ve beaten you. God himself could show up in that ring to tell me it’s not my time to win the Trophy and I’d give him the finger and go back to piledriving the two of you over and over until the audience and I are never subjected a promo consisting mainly of the only fatter fuck than me in this company scarfing Twinkies down his gullet as Mark McNasty desperately and unnaturally tries to play straightman to all of the idiocy EVER AGAIN. You are about to be in the ring with a man who has everything to gain and nothing to lose fellas. But of course you don’t care because you are both as up your own asses figuratively as much as you probably are up each others literally because as a rule Wrestlers who age like ‘Fine Wine’ care about nothing but keeping the spotlight on themselves as long as they can… it’s my job once that bell rings to make you and everyone else watching care and take notice. Allen Chaney is NOT a joke.”

Allen has a sip of his waterlogged coffee before stepping out of the room. We fade to black and a bit of music begins.

(To the tune of ‘Up On The Housetop’)
“REBEL needs a new champ, That is clear.
Don’t fret, Allen Chaney’s here.
Simons desk has gone up in smoke.
‘Fine Wine’ is a big unfunny joke.
Ho Ho Ho, I’m not gonna go.
No no no, cause P-Dub still blows.
Up on the the housetop, Click click click.
Mind your own business you bald black dick.”

Part Three

Once again, the Rebel Tron goes black, and the white writing spells out,

“Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie Present: Road to Merry Time Massacre.”

“Part Three: Strategy is the Key”

We find Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie sitting backstage at a table talking; both in their ring gear.

McNasty: Wilkie, I have to admit, I haven’t felt this good in a while.

Wilkie: That’s great Mark. I haven’t felt this full in a while.

McNasty laughs.

McNasty: I think I lost fifteen pounds.

Wilkie burps.

Wilkie: I think I put on thirty.

McNasty: Fantastic! I had a strategy I wanted to discuss with you. So,

McNasty leans in.

McNasty: I hit Chaney with a hard move. Then, when he’s on his back, you sit on him. He’ll never be able to get up!

Wilkie begins laughing.

Wilkie: Alright, I get it. I put on weight. Nice joke.

McNasty smirks.

McNasty: I thought so. ‘Scuse me,

McNasty turns to the side and lowers his head below the table.

McNasty: Damn. I was really hoping he’d go for it.

Wilkie: What was that Mark?

McNasty pops back up.

McNasty: I said I figured you’d go for some IHop after the match.

Wilkie: Hellz yeah. But um, don’t we need to like worry about Chaney first?

McNasty: Alex, while we’ve both been doing this too long to “not worry”…we’ve won tag titles. We’re fighting one guy who hit the highest peak in his life he ever could by winning the AOWF title, before walking away from the company when Rob Robinson took his belt and ran with it. If he wasn’t willing to stand and fight for that, fight for the most prestigious belt Rebel, PWA, and TGW ever saw…he doesn’t have the heart for this. It’s a game to him. He’s here for a quick thrill. You and me, we’ve shown we can do this. We’ve shown we can overcome loss. But we’ve also shown we aren’t a pair of flash in the pan jobbers.

Wilkie: Yeah,

McNasty: We showed we were memorable; meant for the record books. Who else but us could win Tag Team of the year after not being seen for nine months? No one!

Wilkie stands up.

Wilkie: Yeah!

McNasty: Who else could come back after FOUR YEARS and win a pair of tag titles in their first match back together? Not anyone in these federations right now, I’ll tell you that.

Wilkie: YEAH!

McNasty: If Allen Chaney really thinks he can take us, we’re going to show him different!

Wilkie slams his hands on the table.

Wilkie: Hell yeah we are!

McNasty: Are you ready for this?

Wilkie: YEAH!


McNasty and Wilkie high five before walking towards the camera, and off screen.

The white writing returns.

“To Be Concluded…Now.”

Handicap Match for the Number One Contenders Trophy

Fine Wine versus Allen Chaney

Once more, this match is done purely from my (Linzi Martin) point-of-view. Why? Because I’d rather steal Paul Alba’s shtick by documenting these commentaries I do for future reference when I write my badass autobiography.

And so, Allen Chaney was screwed by Simon Kalis in that weird triple threat tag-slash-handicap match booked on our previous installment of Aggression, also known as ‘go-home’ show of Merry Time Massacre. How? Allen pinned Alex Wilkie simultaneous to McNasty covering Erik Loomis but the ref took a bump so nobody was there to recognize these attempts. So what happens? Simon Kalis, our bookerman, comes running to the ring and pretends to not see Allen’s attempt because of his eyepatch, therefore exclusively recognizing McNasty’s and granting him victory.

Again, this booking looks like another chance to mess with Allen for smoothly finding a loophole thus ultimately acquiring a job in REBEL against Simon’s wishes. And the way this match starts likely made Simon grin: although Allen landed hard punches on both members of Fine Wine, the veteran team overwhelmed our standup giant through chops and punches, and eventually kicks once Allen fell to the canvas. While Wilkie occasionally kicked and dropped elbows during McNasty’s terrible attempt of a sharpshooter, Allen took hold of Wilkie’s foot and tripped him onto his ass! Kicking McNasty away from his feet, Allen easily stands and spears McNasty to the canvas.

Bionic elbow galore follows, which results in one mighty gutwrench powerbomb to McNasty from Chaney! Wilkie, having trouble standing due to his turtle-like physique (he literally has difficulty in rolling over onto his side as a turtle would), is kept on his back by a big splash off the middle turnbuckle from Chaney! Hooking the leg, John Chellios counts a one before McNasty’s jumping somersault senton breaks the count! Within two seconds, Allen is up on a knee, trying to fully stand, but McNasty swiftly denies that attempt via snap DDT!

Since it was a good moment to cover Allen, McNasty did so, but not a single count was made because Allen powerhouses out by pushing McNasty up and over him! Belly flopping onto the canvas, McNasty doesn’t get up as fast as he normally would due to the sharp sting and hesitance, which permits Allen to big boot Mark through the middle rope and onto the apron! Never before has anyone seen Allen do it, but god damn, it happened tonight: the chubby comedian impresses by a slingshot guillotine leg drop that practically decapitates McNasty!

Coughing violently thanks to that throat attack, McNasty is forced to take a snap suplex onto the outside cement by Chaney! Leaving Mark to wither in his pain, Allen returns to the ring and sees Wilkie awfully stuck on his back exactly like earlier. Pointing at Wilkie’s absurd situation, Allen lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. Then, rather cruelly, Allen places a foot against Wilkie’s throat and presses down for several seconds causing Alex to choke! John Chellios allows it until evidently remembering that shit is illegal and so tries to stop it, but then he remembers that this is REBEL Pro and rules like that don’t exist, so he lets Allen continue. Fucking Chellios! All the meanwhile, Alex Wilkie’s face has changed three colors (guess which ones) and in desperation, the pitiful fatty taps out! Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” announces Allen’s victory, and the camera pans to see Mark McNasty barely standing and pissed.

Yet McNasty wasn’t allowed to stand there and sulk as he probably would have done and liked to. Why? Because fucking Macca jumped over the barricade, turned Mark around, flipped two middle fingers and stunner’d his ass!! Inside the ring, Allen Chaney sees Macca’s handiwork and challenges the cuntster to step inside – likely knowing this is a pattern – but unknowingly, behind him is Bubba J, who laughs.

Bubba J: “Hey Allen.”

Chaney turns around to see Bubba J.

Bubba J: “I got a joke for ya.”

Chaney: “Is it about how you-”

Interrupted by repeated torpedoes known as ‘Bubba’s fists’ blasting him in the face, Allen staggers backward into a Stunner by Macca!

Macca: “Here’s the only decent punchline you’ve been involved in, bitch”

Giving a kick to Allen’s gut, Macca then spits on him!

Bubba J: “Macca!”

Macca: “What?”

Bubba J: “You spat on him!”

Macca: “I really hate this cunt!”

Macca kicks Allen again for good measure. During all that, security comes pouring out and Bubba takes heed.

Bubba J: “Shit! We gotta fly!”

The two toughest bastards then flee over the barricade and through the crowd, with security pursuing them! The fans are losing their shit, by the way. I still can’t tell why the hell they’re doing this because this is the stuff people would boo you over, but those two are such badasses that it’s no wonder people cheer them.

The KKK Is in Canada!

Canada. Hocky lovin’, flannel wearin’, masturbating with maple syrup while freezing to fucking death Canada. Gawd, this place is messed up in the head. We are looking at two people from behind, one male and one female. It’s just starting to snow. We can’t tell but the female seems preoccupied with catching snowflakes. The male is the first to speak, he’s wearing a Misfits hoodie with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his torn jeans.

“This is the moment where any notion of a ‘UX Invasion’ is crushed on my knee and left bleeding helplessly on the canvas.” says the male.

“Who am I? I’m the guy people send to take care of shit like this. When uppity bitches want to get noticed or have their voices heard they call on me to get the job done. The Pantheon? One of the many iterations of the Order of Chaos? They told me they needed my help to take care of things.. And of all of those warriors who called themselves true ‘Apostles of Ares’ only one remains. Me. Ultimum Apostolus. The Last Apostle.” he says. He turns to the camera.

“Johnny Goddamn Maverick. I could use this moment to list all of my accomplishments, and there are a considerable amount, but instead I would like to NOT be a tool and address another ‘Five Star Mat Technician’ and a beard with a man attached to it. I am referring of course to ‘Wrestling’s Undisputed’ who represent an influx of talent from Underground X. More accurately they represent a rodent infestation and my student finally getting enough stress out of his system on a group of putzes to return to the AOWF, but that’s a story for him to tell. But hey! We also got back Deicide! Isn’t that….neat? I hear a small tribe of warriors live inside of his beard, capable of destroying the world. The only thing that keeps them at bay are the bright lights of wrestling arenas. So he has finally returned to the AOWF, knowing full well that he has returned to a company full of talent far superior to him, so he might be pinned to the ground to give the Beardites full view of the arena lighting. I for one fully support Deicide in his mission to calm his beard demons and my partner and I will do our best to help you on your path.” says Johnny before giving a super sincere smile and thumbs up.

“And Cesar? Another one of the people who toss around words like ‘Technician’ and ‘Purist’. You wanna know a little bit about me, Cesar? When I got my start my main focus was on Technical, Submission, and Catch-as-Catch-Can wrestling. I’m very, very good at it, and early in my career it earned me the first of my 1001 nicknames ‘The Smartass Submission Machine’. People kinda forget what that means and just call me a ‘MMA Striker guy’. Then there are those special occasions. The occasions where I’m booked against someone like Cody Bogard or Marvin Wood, two men who like to call themselves technicians and purists, and I just flat out get to outwrestle them. It’s a beautiful sight, it really is. I am really, really looking forward to facing you Cesar because I like beating people like you at your own game. And if you think you can take me on REBEL-style? You will learn why they call me a veteran in these parts. You can face either the Smartass Submission Machine or the Filth and The Fury. Pick your posion, Cesar. Neither of them go down smooth.” says Johnny, he turns to the female who says something. She may be talking to snowflakes. He isn’t sure.

“But seriously guys. You DO know we’re gonna wreck your shit, right? In an instant you will see the name ‘Wrestling’s Undisputed’ transform from a name that represents all that was good about UX into a statement of sad irony as my partner and I stand tall as the Undisputed Tag Team Champions of Rebel Pro Wrestling. Don’t feel too bad, we’ll have other legacies to shit on afterwards. It’s just what we do. My partner and I usually thrive on Controversy but there is going to be nothing controversial about what happens in this match aside from the usual bending of reality. The two of you are going to fall flat on your face just like everyone knows you will and Sean Robinson is just going to be another name in The ‘Archive of People The Phoenix Beat’ that Rob Robinson keeps beside his bed as a masturbation aide. This is going to be a shut-out victory for REBEL Pro. A ‘Massacre’ if you will.” he says, he thinks and nods to himself, deciding he has made his point before he turns back around. There is a moment of silence before he pokes the female in the arm to get her attention and she quickly spins around. He points to the camera as she groans.

“Doo I hav to?”

Johnny just shrugs in response. She sighs. “Four those hoo doan’t know, ya should know, mi name iz Anna Mathews and I’m won of the reel taggy champs alongside this asshole—“ She pauses pointing at said hooded asshole. “—and YOUR Aggression champ. An two be honest? Aye fink this whole UX thing izza bunch ov overhyped crap. Boo hoo. Sew ur ‘home’ had ta be devoured bi Rebel Pro after Johnny Depp blew up ev’rybuddy in the dam building. I’m feeling sew much sympy for joo.” Her lower lip quivers in faux-crying mode for a second.

“But it’s whatevs, I suppose. Deicide, Snooty Mexican Guy, aye really doan’t care bout those cardboard cutouts ya gots for shinys. Eye doan’t care hoe great oar ‘undisputed’ you konsider yerselves to be. It’s nawt something we haven’t heard before from utter people hoo fought their stuff didn’t stink. Funny thing is one wai oar another, won time or another, they get proven wrong. Yoor tyme iz nao, boyos, and knot inn that John Cena Brappledough sorta wai.” Maverick shoots a look that simply says ‘who?’ as Anna telepathically says ‘I’ll tell ya laterz’.

He quirks an eyebrow that symbolizes ‘What about the Justin Case fanclub you flew over here?’ as the camera pans to a group of half-naked grannies and forty-year old fugly virgins breaking their hips and shaking their sagging tits to PuppetDrake’s renditions of all the theme songs. The cameraman turns back quickly to save his sight which makes us look at Anna’s eyes narrow mimicking ‘Dat’s nut important rite nao’. It also gives the puppets enough time to scurry in front of them with enough weaponry to start a damn war which they both shrug off. She clears her throat.

“Annnnyhow. Point ish that know amount ov technical knowledge, no amount of ego, an no amount of hair lice off of Hobocide iz going ta protect yoo frum the slaughtering things we’re going to do wif joo tonight. It’s gonna be soooo much fun wit the tables and the ladders and the chairs and the glaven! We’re going tu crush wat little glory Wrestling’s Undisputed haz left and bury et six feet in a hole wit the rest of this Underground X stuff. Et’s nothing purrsonal. It’s jus something that kneeds to be done and it can be done anyway you want. Pinfalls, submissions, psychological warfare, by blood…whatever. Bottom line is it all goes down.” She grins her silly grin. “Come awn over. We’ll serve anybuddy.” One cheesy tough guy-and-silly-chick team pose later and we fade out.

“Hey, John-boy?”


“Kan yoo ride a horse?”

Fake Empire V

(an off camera segment)
Yesterday morning, Rolling Stone’s senior editor David Fricke arranged a prerecorded audio-only interview with former UX, now REBEL’s (Un)disputed Tag Team Champions, Wrestling’s Undisputed, that was uploaded today at high noon on the magazine’s official website. Due to Deicide and Cesar Salazar’s intense world tour as of late to promote REBEL’s upcoming Christmas extravaganza, Fricke barely managed to rope these prolific, methodical dancers.

David Fricke: “You two are hard to get in touch with.”

Cesar Salazar: “Well, we do have a very important match coming up.”

Deicide: “And we want it to garner the buy-rate that reflects twenty-twelve the year of REBEL, Alliance’s savior, not an overbooked, poorly assembled ‘dome of destruction’ or rise-death-zombified-comatose-wake of tediously gimpy wrestling.”

David Fricke: “Wrestling observers widely criticize the AOWF championship community for its decline in relevance, and pointlessness. Do you two agree with that sentiment?”

Deicide: “The Alliance of Wrestling Federations went from predominance last year to an ‘Ugly Betty’ nose-dive. When UX was still alive, in the locker-rooms, when we first began business with AOWF, the boys would chatter about how AOWF’s social impact could help elevate UX into the mainstream quicker, though the truth of that has always been if the relationship began in 2011, we’d of been a harmonic resonance of Paul Thomas Anderson and Fiona Apple. Instead, in truth, that collaboration faired slightly better than Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries’ marriage. At least we got pass the honeymoon stage.”

Cesar Salazar: “In retrospect, people blame the sidelining of Teresa Quaranta, the loss of Victory Wrestling, Lisa Seldon’s administrative depart, and corruption of a few Stones and Blazenwings as reasoning for AOWF’s fall from grace. While that’s all true, it’s only half-right. What is lessening the Alliance’s importance is shortage of people who give a damn; not – as the ‘Orange Revolution’ puts it – an unwholesome amount of ‘bad talents’ per se. The standard hasn’t lowered, it’s been met by formulaic personalities with little regard to adding onto AOWF’s reputation because they’d rather collect ‘shinies’ for decorative purposes.”

Deicide: “And when a team like us comes along, who has an objective, those collectors end up quitting the promotions they’re allegedly champions of and even go as far as to degrade their former employer’s property on a rival promotion in efforts to ‘criticize’ – but what exactly? Self-parody best be the explanation, otherwise the idea of a ‘straight shooter’ accusing foul on anyone else other than itself is disgraceful and unprofessional.”

Cesar Salazar: “These types of people are who the Championship Community must negotiate and schedule. I truly feel for them, the Championship Community, because if I were in charge of marketing our alliance’s image around the Justin Cases, Luscious Starrs, Mr. Hardcores, Scottie Snows, Emily Corlens, Matt Stones, Gabe Shelleys – by the way, do you realize how far my listing could go?”

Deicide: “The terrible talent is in abundance, but what makes them terrible is what Salazar and I are interested in answering in this interview; and that answer will conclude what cannot only save REBEL Pro’s tag team division but the AOWF altogether.”

David Fricke: “Should I just give you two the floor?”

Cesar Salazar: “We wrestlers tend to cut lengthy promos on the spot. Sorry,” is said right before Cesar chuckles.

Deicide: “We layer rather thickly.”

David Fricke: “During that tirade, one of many coworkers you both took several shots at was Anna Mathews, who happens to be standing in your way of unifying the tag championships. Would you say she groups in with that ‘terrible abundance’?”

Cesar Salazar: “A fitting question. That directly focuses on our answer to what defines Undisputed. Unlike Virgil Keenan or Marvin Wood, who’d proclaim their in-ring technique belongs to the experts and all other styles simply don’t benefit in creating a ‘perfect’ league of ‘excellent’ wrestlers, the problem underlies in their thought process, not preferences. And, unlike Benjamin Dyce or Bubba J, who believe reliance on aggression ‘compels’ the masses, we recognize the largely unattended fans who’re sick of all the senseless violence, unfunny wackiness and inarticulate presentation.”

Deicide: “Let’s relate these issues to Kontroversy Kreates Kake since they coincidentally match that description. Maverick, for one, loses over and over countless times, yet he walks around cocky as ever, which insults the smart marks that know he has no future anymore. The last chance he had – and it was a big one – to redeem himself from such a bipolar career was when he went to Victory and won their World title. At the time, they were the place to be in AOWF. But how long was his title reign? I know Teresa buried the fuck out of him, and then the dude dropped off into TGW mid-card or whatever.”

Cesar Salazar: “It’s telling when after that his entire career became a big blur with some fake suicide yet hilariously real career suicide in-between.”

Deicide: “But Cesar, dude, that’s the past, man! Everybody knows ‘continuity’ doesn’t matter because everybody makes mistakes! Gosh, why are the people with clean records only eligible to run for President of the United States? How come all the smart nerds end up incredibly successful and rich in the long run?? Its way cooler to be badass and live by your own rules and be a nuisance because, quite frankly, anything that functions in that complicated of a number must be dense and sheepish!”

Cesar evidently smirks for his tone matches Deicide’s malicious sarcasm.

Cesar Salazar: “You know why Simon Kalis, Lisa Seldon, Matthew Engel and Teresa Quaranta have an incredible legion of supporters? Because the things they said and promised, they followed through and did so wisely and entertainingly, against odds and cheap derision. A common complaint amongst losers is, “why is winning all the time so god damn important?? It’s not like life ends there, in a handful of losses! People bounce back!” Yeah, if you want life to be where you can play Bruce Wayne getting his back broken by Bane, only to use supernatural means of healing yourself, such as a middle eastern guy roughly punching your spine back into place, to save the day: take a page out of Johnny Maverick’s book by fading to black.”

Off in the background, we hear Paul Alba’s lose his shit; laughing so hard, he coughs uncontrollably.

Deicide: “Sometimes Anna Mathews jobs, but for the most part, she’s an alright gal. I’ve fought her plenty of times elsewhere, but she’s like Macca in the sense that they’re just there. I don’t know what motivates her aside from collecting ‘shinies’.”

Cesar Salazar: “She’ll occasionally use wit by attacking no-sellers, for example, but other than that, she doesn’t do anything for anyone. She’s like a Diva, but can actually put on a show. I’m not sure if she relishes in the perception of her having a ‘fantastic’ ass and wants to be REBEL’s sex symbol, but if that’s it, she needs to take a stance because she’s Champion. The Aggression belt has always floundered, with no one to give it any worthiness, because, predictably, everyone wants the World Championship. It’s almost as if we should do away with the Aggression and Tag titles because what does it matter to anyone? And saying that actually hurts me.”

Deicide: “That’s what we mean by disgraceful. These wrestlers, Anna Mathews and Johnny Maverick, just don’t give a damn like we do. Ever since we became UX Undisputed Tag Champions, every tag team placed in front of us, whether in UX or REBEL, we beat them with style, smarts and fans’ approval, because we know what to say, what to do and how we want these fans to interpret us.”

Cesar Salazar: “Undisputed. Weren’t not being pretentious or overrating ourselves, and they, the fans, know it.”

Deicide: “You’ve seen our matches, David. For the past, what, five months, all we’ve done is conquered and tell everyone our mission is to take the Tag Division and turn it into a headlining attraction.”

Cesar Salazar: “We also want to reinvigorate this division by making it cool, fashionable and equivalent to the World Heavyweight Championship.”

Deicide: “Which is why Sean Robinson is also a member of Wrestling’s Undisputed; together, the three of us will do things indescribable, with a translation only capable through action. So far, our wins translate rather well, wouldn’t you agree?”

David Fricke: “I can tell you my boss anxiously demanded me to do this interview with you two at any cost.”

Cesar Salazar: “And why not the KKK? Perhaps it has something to do with ever since they beat the Kalis family, where have they been? Anna does her puppet skits and Maverick meddles in Allen Chaney’s frivolous affairs. Not once before this week have they ever said anything about this match.”

Deicide: “What the hell is up with that? Wouldn’t you say that’s a comment in itself on their priorities?”

Cesar Salazar: “It upsets me to think we’re booked against two people who’ve yet to even present themselves as a realized tag team. Where’s their enthusiasm to restore REBEL’s tag division?”

Deicide: “In theory, them tagging makes plenty of sense: both dabble in outrageousness, talk about ‘beating people up and stuff’ all pseudo-coolly, and act as if wrestling is a hobby.”

Cesar Salazar: “Compared to us, whose personalities also go hand-in-hand, only we got the chemistry to work?”

Cesar sighs.

Cesar Salazar: “Sadly, I feel that the Tag division is a lost cause sometimes. Our combined effort likely won’t be matched until Lisa Seldon and Teresa Quaranta come back to take us on, or something.”

Deicide: “Basically, our competition sucks, but really, that’s why Simon Kalis called us over to REBEL to begin with: we’re here to fix this mess and help continue REBEL’s success.”

David Fricke: “REBEL is unofficially yet widely accepted as the number one promotion in the AOWF today. A lot of that is due to the UX mergence.”

Cesar Salazar: “Yeah, that’s right, but Simon Kalis and Larry Gordon know nobody will care about that in a few months. We X’ers have already been here for a few months, now. Next, after Wrestling’s Undisputed forge REBEL’s Undisputed Tag titles, and Robbo saves the World Heavyweight Championship from that careless Phoenix, our goal is to cement ourselves as REBEL icons.”

Deicide: “It’s nice that we are officially UX Legends but we must move away from that image to grow. In some ways, Maverick is more of a PWA guy and Anna is halfway between a Victory gal and future REBEL legend, but their how does cialis feel aimless direction and silent voices prevent that.”

David Fricke: “One last question before we wrap this up: Anna Mathews also has a match against Justin Case, but that’s been billed to take place after your TLC match. How do you feel about her double booking?”

Deicide: “Hopefully she gets double the paycheck, or her holiday bonus is enough to cover the hospital bill.”

Cesar Salazar: “Seriously. She’s about to walk into a match with the GSP and Anderson Silva of wrestling, and then be expected to fight the Nick Cannon of wrestling. To be fair, after that first match, Nick Cannon will probably seem a whole lot more Tito Ortiz than usual.”

Like earlier, Paul Alba hysterically loses his shit, and Deicide’s laugh is audible, too.

David Fricke: “Thank you, gentlemen, for this near-hour long interview.”

The recording ends there.

REBEL Pro World/Disputed Tag Team Championship Unification TLC Match

The KKK© versus Wrestling’s Undisputed©

Do I really need to remind you whose perspective this is from? Nope? Good. Our next match is to unify both UX and REBEL Pro tag team championships in tables, ladders and chairs stipulation. We’re witnessing this because Wrestling’s Undisputed is on a quest to conquer the tag division and remold it to fit their vision for it. The KKK on the other hand is here to kickass, put on a good show and leave with the belts. Not much more to say about that, really. I mean, at Armed Assault, the two teams did exchange hands when Wrestling’s Undisputed first appeared on a REBEL production. Besides that, these two teams haven’t made much contact.

Yet the way this match starts, you’d think they’re sworn enemies: first tag team entrance was The KKK, who came out to a great reaction – very supportive and stuff. So Wrestling’s Undisputed came out afterward, to a more mixed response, but halfway down the ramp, Anna Mathews, with a steel chair in hand, jumped from canvas onto the top rope displaying awesome athleticism, then propelled herself to smash the chair against Cesar Salazar’s head!! Three quick knees to Anna’s chest is Deicide’s prompt response, followed by a blatant choke that isn’t interrupted for eleven seconds till Johnny Maverick saves the day via running shoetie!!

Smacking against a barricade, Deicide is not halted completely, but a powerful Spartanesque running boot kicks Deicide over the barricade and onto the laps of fans! That right there temporarily puts Deicide out of commission, and Maverick soaks in a huge markage from the fans. From behind, Cesar Salazar wraps his arms around Maverick’s waist, immediately deadweight lifts for a nasty Gargoyle suplex onto the concrete ground! Transitioned into a cross-armed surfboard, the submission is effective but Anna Mathew’s Arabian facebuster smashes a steel chair into Salazar’s face once again to cease all of his action!

Unloading a big ball of violence onto Cesar soon after Anna mounts him, this viciousness continues for at least forty seconds, which is all it takes for Salazar to horribly bleed from the mouth and nose! Satisfied with her handiwork, Anna leaves Cesar to setup a table. Maverick is stirring now, so he goes to assist Anna once fully up. Together, with the table set, Maverick and Anna execute an aided snap swinging neckbreaker that sends Cesar through the table!

Enraged upon standing, Deicide uses the barricade to leap forth and double clothesline Maverick & Anna! Tapping into his mixed martial arts background, a combination of thrust kicks and boxing jabs stuns both KKK members, but a one-armed shoulder throw sends Anna back-first against nearby steel steps and Maverick is momentarily eliminated via inner thigh void throw! Having single-handedly disemboweled the solid offense from KKK, Deicide grabs a steel chair and repeatedly bashes it against Anna’s ankles!! Two! Five! Eight! Twelve times! Fucking hell, Anna is screaming in pain!!

Strangely yet unsurprisingly, it’s Cesar Salazar who snatches the chair away from Deicide!

Deicide: “What the hell?”

Cesar Salazar: “This is not how we go about this!”

Deicide: “I don’t feel as strongly as you do.”

Cesar Salazar: “Our mission is to defeat them through technique, not by usage of these things!”

Salazar releases the steel chair from his grip.

Cesar Salazar: “Let’s go get those belts, now.”

Pointing skyward at the REBEL Pro and UX tag titles hanging twenty feet above the ring, Salazar pats Deicide on the back before grabbing a ladder, sliding it inside the ring and following. Choosing to remain outside of the ring, Deicide grabs a tearful Anna Mathews and hugging high lift throws her against the barricade!! Back inside, Salazar has perfectly aligned the setup ladder beneath the dangling championships and is now climbing, but from behind, Johnny Maverick springboards off the top rope to wheel kick Salazar’s backside! Sliding down several rungs, Cesar manages to catch his balance before falling off altogether, though this coincidentally assists Maverick in double underhook suplexing Salazar against a ladder leaning on a turnbuckle in a nearby corner!!! The ladder is bent soon as Salazar’s body makes contact!! “Thank You, Maverick” chants galore.

Sneak attacking Maverick from behind through headbutts, Deicide whips Maverick into the corner chest-first, bombards him with a landslide of lightning-strike punches to the spine, jumps atop the turnbuckle and leads Maverick onto the middle buckle by the hair, all the while continuing to elbow his spine to ensure cooperation. What came next is undoubtedly the spot of the night: lifting Maverick into an inverted belly-to-back position, Deicide jumps off the turnbuckle and freefalls to the outside driving Maverick headfirst through a table for the sickest spike piledriver ever!!!!


And all those excitable chants follow, and for good reason. I’m getting wet myself. Shit is hectic! While Deicide and Maverick lay outside, Anna Mathews is inside the ring and starting to climb the ladder! It’s taking her a while though after having a steel chair crack her ankles a record-setting twelve times, understandably. However, this provides opportunity for Salazar to also make his way to and up the ladder, which, given his badly beaten body, isn’t quicker than Anna’s pace, yet they eventually meet at the top simultaneously.

From there, the two dramatically exchange back-and-forth punches, which at first were alarmingly fast but gradually got slower. Punch after punch, Anna Mathews looks like she’s about to fall off, but is hanging on by one hand! Salazar moves in closer to try and punch her off with one last shot, but instead, Anna swings her free hand around so swiftly, the momentous punch collides with Salazar’s chin so greatly, he collapses, hits his chin on a rung on the way down, and whiplashes backward against the canvas for maximum markage!!! Anna Mathews has done it!! She’s the sole person standing, and inches away from those belts!!! For the love of god, Anna, all you have to do is unbutton them!! She gathers whatever remains of her strength, reaches – OH MY GAAAAWWWD!!!!!!

Cesar Salazar used his feet to push against his side of the ladder so that the Ladder tipped over horizontally and sent Anna flying backwards through our announce table!!! In the process, Anna takes out Larry Gordon, who at first was losing his shit from delight but then lost his shit from horror because Anna tumbled on top of him!!! With the ladder still mostly standing, Salazar weakly gets up and pulls it back down to stand properly. Ascending the ladder, fans voice a highly mixed reaction – some cheering, some booing, you know the fucking deal – but at end, Cesar Salazar unhooks all four REBEL Pro and UX Undisputed Tag Championships!! Ramin Djawadi’s “Game of Thrones Main Title” divides and conquers this sold-out arena to declare Wrestling’s Undisputed victory!

Cesar Salazar sits atop the ladder with a literal bloody grin, and Deicide comes inside to receive both of his tag championships. On each of their shoulders rest both REBEL Pro’s Tag Team Championships and UX Undisputed Tag Team Championships! Though, now, I guess we’ll refer to those belts as Undisputed REBEL Pro Tag Championships!

OH DEAR GAWD! Here comes the Toughest Bastards!! Macca slides in the ring, spins Salazar around, and smashes a beer bottle against his already bloody forehead! Likewise, Bubba J too smashes a bottle over Deicide’s head, but unlike Salazar, Deicide does not immediately collapse. So, in good taste, Bubba J flips him off and stunners his bum ass!!!

Macca: “Cheers that, Cunts!”

Macca is heard saying after picking up the tag championships and raising them high above, same as Bubba J! Rushing down the ramp is Simon Kalis’ security force, but in front of them leading the way is Paul Alba!!?

Alba tells the security to stay outside of the ring – “I got this” – he says, reassuringly. Macca is confused at first, because at one point in time, Macca and Alba were the best of drinking buddies.

Paul Alba: “Macca, please give me the belts.”

Reaching out for them but not trying to grab them, Alba politely asks.

Macca: “Why the fuck are you with these cunts??”

Paul does not respond.

Macca: “Silent treatment, eh?”

Dropping the belts, Paul Alba is slightly turned around to eat a stunner from Bubba J!!

Macca: “Cheers, Alba.”

Macca says right before all sixteen security guards slide into the ring and madly brawl with the toughest bastards!! Surprisingly, Macca and Bubba each hold their own against this force, but eventually are overwhelmed once Cesar Salazar and Deicide assist Simon’s crew in the beatdown!

The Chosen One

Upon the REBEL PRO Titan Tron we come to view “The Chosen One” and current Franchise killer, Justin Case. With him is his new reality star singer turned vulgar valet biker chick, Susan Boyle. She spits on the floor as we pan over to see Case’s manager The Wiz, holding of all things a straightjacket. The Wiz simply holds the straightjacket in the air as we pan out to see all three figures.

Justin Case: over time you have established yourself as the person you want people to see. You have created an image that has worked well for you in the past. Up until now.

Susan Boyle lets out a high pitched heckle.

Justin Case: You see, 7 percent of human communication is verbal. That leaves 93 percent in which is the way you conduct yourself, your body language, your facial expressions and the presence you have created for yourself. It all has worked for you in the past because we have all been fooled by your tactics. But now yours truly.

Case’s eyes narrow.

Justin Case: Anna Mathews, you are a catfish. You pretend to be something you are not. And now I think Ive stepped on a gold mine. Because I think I finally figured you out. You see Anna, for years now you have been walking around as the crazy lady we all want to avoid pissing off, because you will use your creative method of madness to hide your true indentity. However, now that I have figured you out, I have thus opened a pandoraz box that will surely open the door to greater things for myself, not just in the future, but when we face off for your belt.

……It will soon be mine!

“TCO’s” eyes widen with an inlightened glow.

Justin Case: And Because of what I know you to be, your days as Aggression Champion are coming to an end. But Mathews, It was a great reign, and one that will go down in the record books. However, I now see right through you! And as the catfish that you are, soon I will defeat you and take what is rightfully mine. The REBEL PRO Aggression Title will look very talented around my waist! But first, I want to prove to you and the world what others before me have failed to realize.

Susan Boyle lets off a sly evil grin.

Justin Case: The first is the fact that Anna Mathews is a fake from top to bottom! Your verbal accent is just a put on to present yourself as a crazed lunatic. But in reality you arent a crazed she devil. You are a cool, complicated calculated person. Although, In reality you have no self esteem, you have cut yourself off from normal society because you fear that they will figure you out just as I have. But for you it is far too late. Because in reality you arent the crazy cat lady who preys on the weak and talks a good game. You are nothing more than a scared kitty cat trying to mask her true self so to not feel the pain of what you really are.

Case pauses to let off a cocky glow.

Justin Case: And that person you really are is a weak minded, worthless sorry excuse of a pathetic human being! That you have used to manufest your way to the top by pretending to be some psycho ass bitch. However, we all know now that you are just a fraud. A shameful, disgraceful ugly human being that has no will, no pride and more importantly no dignity to show the world who you really are. And what are you really?

The Wiz hoists up the Straight Jacket yet again.

Justin Case: You are a person who is weak to the very core. As per mentioned. And as this person I now know you to be, after our match, when my arm is raised in victory, all will then know that what I say is nothing more than the 100 percent truth. Make no mistake about it. In our match I will cut you down inch by inch with my pure athleticly skilled and very talented abilities! Now knowing full well who the real Anna Mathews is, my plan is to capitalize on the real Anna Mathews as I see you. And as that fake posing, scared to death disgrace that I know you to be, during our match I will use this to my advantage as I take the Aggression Title from you and make it mine. All because you couldnt show the world your true colors. In your heart of hearts you are just a lost little girl. You hide by pretending to be someone you are not. And it is with that in mind that I need to remind the world that this type of character does not sit well in a REBEL PRO Aggession Champion.

Case’s eyes deepen with coldness.

Justin Case: So now it will be up to yours truly to restore the dignity of the REBEL PRO Aggression Championship Title Belt. You see, the belt has been dipped in dishonored disgrace for far too long. Now it will be up to me to restore the integrity of the REBEL PRO Aggression Title, and bring back the respect that the belt deserves. I mean Lets face it, even a person with my background is better fit to wear that title belt than any fake ass poser of a woman who cant admit her own faults. And once I am the new holder of the Aggression Title, I will be that much closer to finishing the job as the REBEL PRO franchise killer!

Susan Boyle continues laughing.

Justin Case: I will finsh what I came here to do. With yours truly as champion, I can further my grasp on REBEL PRO and take with me the title belt that represents REBEL PRO in all its glory. within my hands will then be power. And with power comes prestige. My grip on REBEL PRO will then be that much closer to where it needs to be. You see, I have come to end the federation of REBEL PRO! And with each Title I hold, when I do finish the job, I will not just take with me each and every championship title belt, when my job is done, I will then leave REBEL PRO with every belt at my talented grasp!

Case looks at the Straight Jacket in The Wiz’s arms.

Justin Case: Ending REBEL PRO once and for all! You see, unlike The Phoenix, I wont hide in the shadows. I wont get my back up to attack you from behind. While may not care, I do. Forget the puppets and cake. You dont need to hide behind dolls and desserts. I know the real you and soon the world will too. You are at the end of your fall from grace. Your career is a yo-yo and you are anything but balanced. Stop will you still can. Because the clock is ticking.

……tick tick BOOM!

The group share an evil laugh.

Justin Case: So now you know my plan is in effect. But you also may be wondering what this straightjacket is for. You see, I have come bearing gifts. Why dont we have a ladder match for your title belt? And then the loser has to be put in a straightjacket for the next week. Its perfectly talented idea, dont you think? Because Anna, sooner or later all will be aware. When its all said and done, no one is better than “The Chosen One”.

As the group stand in mockery of the Aggression Champion, the camera suddenly cuts off to static.

REBEL Pro Aggression Championship Match

Justin Case versus Anna Mathews©

I had to come down to the ring and bear witness to this match, and hey, I’m interested in giving people a point of view from none other than the man Simon Kalis himself. No one wants to hear Larry Gordon, certainly, besides, he got knocked around during the TLC match at the end and fucked right off to get his fat ass checked for hemorrhoids or something. And I feel bad. Really bad. Adrian and I were supposed to battle, but instead Anna is forced to go from one match to the next. Both title defenses, back to back of one another. I’ve done of one of these in the PWA. Lost the tag titles, won Who’s The Man. Maybe Anna is going down the same path? Though as we watch Justin Case come out you’d better believe he’s got a fire raging somewhere in that dimwitted brain of his, a likely explanation of how he can be so dumb. But I begrudgingly admit, the Chosen One has talent. I’d not have suffered his return to REBEL Pro if I didn’t think he could make it back to the top.

He’s Canadian after all, and for all the love I have for Anna there is no questioning my countryman’s blood as the superior. Then again, this is Justin Case we’re talking about and blood can only go so far. But just look at Anna coming back to the ring, she is far from rested and everyone knows it. Especially the vulture of House Case. Poor girl is fucking limping, they really cracked at that ankle hard and I’m hoping she’s alright. I take full credit for opening everyones eyes to just how fine “dat ass” is on her, but she is far from looking it early going here. Justin Case is pressing his power and size advantage immediately here by grappling Anna and suplexing her with a quick snap like she’s a ragdoll. Another snap suplex sends Anna rolling around on the canvas.

Case is a shark who smells blood as he locks up Anna Mathews in a figure four leg lock. Pressing the damage done earlier by Wrestling’s Undisputed, Anna writhes in pain with nowhere to go. God damn are we about to see Justin fucking Case recapture the Aggression title? It’s starting to look like it with Anna unable to reach the ropes as she tries bitterly hard to do so. Susan Boyle is cheering on, I feel like puking looking at her. But Case lets go of the hold and rolls out of the ring, leaving Anna a chance to recover as best she can from this onslaught. Might’ve been a mistake. But with him grabbing a chair from ringside left over from the TLC match maybe not. Anna is gingerly on her feet and she just runs, jumps and leaps over the top rope and body splashes right on Justin Case and takes him down before he has a chance to make another addendum to the English language. Anna elbows him in the face while on top of him and rolls off.
Looks like Susan Boyle wants in on this, as if Anna hasn’t got enough shit to deal with. But Anna Mathews hits a Big Ball of Violence on Susan. Fuck that was nuts, I think I saw a titty slip from Anna but that might just be my wishful thinking. Anna has Susan knocked flat on her fat pimply ass but The Wiz takes a swing with his cane but Anna metes out another Big Ball of Violence on him and shuts that fucker up too. Well done, Ms. Mathews. Well done. Of course Case is waiting for her to turn around and as she does he swings with that chair BUT Anna ducks! Big Ball of Violence for Justin Case has him laid flat out. That shit reminds me of Street Fighter, and Anna is Akuma and it’s like the screen goes white and everyone wakes up murdered. And possibly raped.

Anna Mathews tries to lift Case up to put him into the ring, and I figure even being 100% she’d have trouble lifting a heavyweight like Case but with her ankles all battered half way to her wrists this is an exercise in futility and Anna recognizes that. Even with REBEL Pro’s lack of rules, she still needs to get him into the ring for the pin to count. So she does what anyone

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would do in her position and picks the chair Case intended to use on her and begins bashing it on his face until he bleeds. I suppose if I wanted to be a dick I could stand up and call this a First Blood match since Case annoys me but I won’t. I’ve got Allen Chaney to be my play thing.

Case is obviously mad as he gets to his feet, blood trickling down his talented fucking face. Anna chucks the heavily dented steel chair aside and gingerly climbs up onto the ring apron, breathing heavily I notice. Not that I stare at her chest all the time or anything, it’s just you know, we focus on her great ass we forget she has other fine features as well. Clearly the exhaustion of back to back title matches has her whooped though but she lands on Case and goes for a hurricanrana! Excellent execution! Or I would say that at least, had Case not caught her, spun her around and powerbombed her against the railing separating the fans from them so hard her neck looks like it might’ve just broken. That can’t be good.

Case takes Anna up and hoists her into the ring. He grabs that cane Wiz carries and rolls into the ring, raising it up for the crowd to cheer but these Montrealais boo this fucker like he’s wearing a Toranna Maple Laffs jersey. He swings down at Anna, but she’s still well within it to roll away instinctively. He takes another swing and another roll from Anna until she rolls right out of the ring. She circles, still limping, damn. But she’s got fight in her as she hops up onto the ring apron, surely cringing in pain but like a true champion ignoring it. She flips up onto the top rope and Case swings the cane again but she ducks and maintains her balance on that top rope before jumping up and this time successfully executing that hurricanrana. She quickly covers but only garners a two count, with Case wiping more of his own thick red Canadian blood off his face. This would be a cool time to do this, “open the dome” and bang. The dome above opens up and snow begins flowing into the stadium. Because let’s make this interesting right!?

Anna grabs the cane and swings in a downward strike like she’s going Gregor Clegane on Justin Case but Case rolls out of the way this time himself, and you gotta wonder if it’s them being smart now or that’s just a shitty weapon. Case rolls and gets to his feet, god damn he is awful, and Anna swings for his head like she’s Babe Ruth reborn. He ducks and kicks her in the gut and then grabs her. He spins her around and lays her out with a backbreaker so hard I’m pretty sure I heard a crunch. Case stops to look up at the dark night sky and the snow falling and floating down over them all as Anna crawls, all kinds of fucked up. Maybe opening the dome was a bad idea, I probably put Case into his element in a Canadian snowfall.

Their breath frosts now in the air as Case lifts Anna up and sets her up. Fuck. Just 2 Talented. Fuck. He pins, god damn it. WAIT! ANNA PUTS HER FOOT ON THE ROPE! OH YEAH TAKE THAT CASE! No Aggression title for you fucker!

So Case decides to drag Anna into the middle of the ring and cover again. Maybe I underestimated his intelligence. BUT ANNA KICKS OUT! Oh fuck yes! Come on sweety, get up. Get up! Case has this look in his eyes man, and now we’ve got Susan Boyle and The Wiz climbing their collective Big fat fuck Mac asses into the ring. Son of a bitch. “Why don’t you step in?” Shut up Linzi, what does this look like? The PWA? Anna can handle herself. I think.

Case has that stupid cane again but Anna bounces off the ropes and hits a Boomerfly Kick on The Wiz, sending him right back out of the ring! YES! She goes for the Boomerfly Kick on Case but Susan Boyle pushes him out of the way and takes the hit for him. Jesus. She rolls herself out of the ring, hopefully the impact of her ass doesn’t crack off more of this fucking building. Case swings for Anna but Anna catches the cane with her hands and rips it out of Case’s grasp. She swings, stops the swing as Case ducks down and then hits that downward attack again and cracks it over his head. She bounces off the ropes, comes back, BOOMERFLY KICK! YES!!! And Anna, breath frosting and all, falls over Case and covers!

ONE! TWO! WAIT A FUCK MINUTE! Susan god damn Boyle just yanked Anna’s foot and pulled her towards the ring apron. Oh god what is that in her hands? Where’d she get that? Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!

Susan is smashing a god damn brick on Anna’s injured ankle until the brick itself breaks apart. Anna is in a lot of pain right now. Case is now up, that Boomerfly Kick opened up more of his head. Anna kicks Susan and spins on her belly, and she cracks Susan in the face from her belly. Anna grabs half a brick and turns over onto her back as Case comes for her. YEAH! She cracks Case across the face with the brick and it knocks him the fuck out. Case is down! Anna! GET UP! GET UP! And she is!

Anna can’t even stand on that foot now though, fuck. She’s heading up top for Slash and Burn but she can’t keep her balance that ankle is too fucked. She goes for the big double jump 630 splash but that she can’t and falters and lands on the turnbuckles. Case is up and quickly capitalizes, pulling her off and going for a butterfly suplex before quickly switching it to a piledriver.

Fuck. Just 2 Talented. He covers. One. Two….

God damn it. Referee Alan Stone raises Justin Case’s hands and hands him the REBEL Pro Aggression Championship. Justin Case has won. Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick. Quick lets get Anna some help here. Fuck.

This Is Wrestling

As the REBEL ring crew unloads the equipment trucks and carries the ring into Le Stade Olympique, Sean Robinson stands at the top of the entrance ramp. He looks down over the ringside area, his back to the camera. He speaks softly, just barely raising his voice above a whisper.

“I’ve been in this company for just under two months, but astute fans will know that this isn’t my first go-round in REBEL. I started my career here, cut my teeth in that ring, got my first wins and losses against some serious legends of the business. At the time I left, I thought I would never be back. The fans hated me, and rightly so. So I moved around a little, went up to Alberta for a bit, then back down to Vegas. And that’s where I really found my niche. In Underground X, I became a legend in my own right. I beat the best that UX had to offer, week in and week out. I built a reputation as the best technical wrestler in the game. I strove every night to improve my skills and surpass my own abilities. And in doing so, I did something that no other man had done before. I held the Undisputed Championship for one hundred and twenty days. That’s four months of the greatest champion in the history of the company.

And then Mainerishi blew it all up, I nearly died, and I found myself drifting. Lost at sea, not a single scrap of driftwood to grab on to. But then I was saved, by the most unlikely duo of Paul Alba and Kevin Holiday. And they told me about REBEL. They reminded me of the place where it all started, all those years ago. So I came here, back to where my career began, to try and salvage what was left of it. I knew I would have a long road back. You don’t get burned in an Inferno match one day, and go right back to living high on the proverbial hog the next. You start down at the bottom and work your way back up to the plateau. And that’s where I am today, fingertips clawing at the top of the mountain once again. I’m one match away from simultaneously breaking new ground, and returning to old form.

But I find myself in a unique situation tonight. I’m the challenger for a title which the champion doesn’t want to hold. He actively denies his right to be called the REBEL World Heavyweight Champion. He throws the belt on the ground, defiling the legacy and history it represents. Rob, do you have any idea whose names you’re stepping on when you let that belt hit the floor? When you spit on REBEL, do you know who you’re slighting?

Rex Caliber. Stylin’ Kyle Roberts. The Show, Chad Kurtis. Vincent Black. Lisa Seldon. Bubba J. The list of REBEL Icons who have held that belt goes on cialis australia mastercard and on. And yet you continue to treat those names as footnotes to your AOWF World Title. You ignore their accomplishments, and the paths they blazed to put this company on the map.

Now, I’m not going to stand here and compare myself to them. I was here when Rex and Kyle and Chad ran roughshod over REBEL. Vincent, Bubba, and the rest of Extreme Elite nearly put me in a wheelchair. But I remember those days, and that’s where our difference lies. Do you even remember what it was like before you were the champion? Or does your memory begin and end with that gold around your waist? You see, Rob, I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be hungry. To need every win, because just the slightest loss of momentum could set you back a year or more in your hunt for the belt. But that’s where we differ, once again. I remember that. I still live for those moments. Those moments of doubt that you power through to finish a match, those moments of weakness before your second wind, those moments of pain as you miss your goal by fractions of an inch. Those moments, Rob…

That’s wrestling.”

He turns to face us as the ring crew finishes constructing the massive steel cell. The demonic structure is lifted into the air above the ring, ready to be lowered into place for tonight’s main event. As he walks past the camera into the backstage areas, the front of his black t-shirt comes into focus. In the center is the modified version of the Boston Bruins logo that Robinson has come to use as his own. Above that, in gold lettering, are three words…

This is Wrestling

Another Sacrifice

The faux-classical guitar intro of “Welcome Home” lets the crowd know that the REBEL Pro World champion, the Phoenix is about to make an appearance. Never one to disappoint, he steps into the arena in a flash of red pyro. The crowd boos, but the arena might as well be empty for all the notice the Phoenix gives. He walks to the ring, wearing a new black and silver mask, wearing his AOWF World title belt and has the RPW World title belt over his shoulder, as normal. He climbs into the ring and stands in the middle and starts to speak without waiting for the crowd to shut up.

The Phoenix: Last week I showed what a motivated Phoenix is capable of. Last week I showed why I was able to beat Marvin Wood and win the title. And let me tell you all something. I’ve fought all the biggest names in the history of this sport and Marvin is without a doubt the toughest opponent I’ve ever faced. He’s a man I respect, a man I admire, and a man I consider a friend. And even so, I didn’t hesitate to put him down.

The Phoenix: That’s the Phoenix people have come to expect. That’s the Phoenix that REBEL Pro hasn’t seen much of lately. So when the roster here swelled with the UX castaways, I know they heard all about me. I’ve held more World titles than they’ve got fingers. I’ve won more titles than most of them have had birthdays. And on top of that, this belt around my waist says that I am, beyond a doubt, the best wrestler in the AOWF.

The Phoenix: But all these new guys, what they’ve seen of me so far, frankly, hasn’t been all that impressive. Last week was a step in the right direction, but this week I’m going to give them a lesson to show them that my reputation is more than earned.

The Phoenix: Tonight I’m facing a man with an unfortunate last name. He didn’t know it, but that name has earned him the beating of a lifetime. That name is like fingernails on a chalkboard to me and I’m going to destroy him just for making me say it. Sean Robinson is going to stand across the ring from me later tonight, he’s going to have dreams of an early Christmas present but I’m not going to let that happen. Just like the Grinch, I’m going to swoop in from the top of my mountain and bring devastation to Seanville.

The Phoenix pauses and smiles. He pulls out a piece of paper he had tucked away behind the AOWF World title belt, unfolds it and reads.

I’ve got the AOWF belt and the one here in REBEL Pro.
How did I earn them? Soon shall Sean know.
I like to hurt people and you know I love to cheat.
I’ve got talent aplenty and can think on my feet.
Sean is the upstart, the scrappy young pup,
But the fact of the matter is he couldn’t carry my cup.
He has these delusions of beating the champ,
That fucker’s so stupid he probably loves lamp.

I’m going to hurt him, kick in his little Sean face.
I’m going to beat his fucking ass all over the place.
He’ll beg me for mercy, his pleas all in vain,
cause the Phoenix is planning on bringing the pain.

I’ll break his arms and his leg and even his nose.
When I’m done he’ll be hurting all over, right down to his toes.
Don’t make the error of thinking I’m all talk,
consider yourself lucky if you’re still able to walk.

I am the Phoenix, the best of all time.
The ways I will hurt you are most likely a crime.
All the fans in the building, from the front row to the nose bleed
Will look away in disgust, like you’re the Human Centipede.

Your dreams will be dashed, your spirit will be broken.
Mark these words well Sean, for truer have never been spoken.
Every word that I said, they all are prophetic,
Because I’m the goddamn Phoenix and you’re fucking pathetic.

The Phoenix: I hope you enjoyed that, Sean, cause that’s the last time tonight you’ll get to smile. And most likely the last time you’ll ever get to smile with all your teeth. I promised that the end is coming for the entire AOWF. I’ve heard what people have been saying. They doubt me, think I’m blowing hot air. Of course, the people saying this clearly have no idea what I’m capable of. That’s why tonight, one way or another, an example will be made. For REBEL Pro to survive a little while longer, a sacrifice is required. And Sean? You’re the lamb being led to the slaughter. You’re entering the ring with a force of nature and you are woefully unprepared.

The Phoenix: If you want this title, think about what it will take to acquire it. Would you be willing to risk the health of your best friend to get it? I was. I was more than willing, actually. I spilled his blood, I twisted his limbs, made his joints bend in ways no god ever intended. And then I made him do the same to me. I fought Marvin Wood on a physical and mental level and I won. That’s what I was willing to do to win a title I’ve openly admited I don’t give a damn about. I risked friendship and health for something that I didn’t care about.

The Phoenix: That’s the kind of man I am, Sean. That’s why I continue requiring sacrifices from the AOWF. If I’m willing to put everything on the line to win the most meaningless of titles, how can I expect the people around me to not share my burden? I’m destroying the two things I’ve loved most in the world, the AOWF and the PWA, because I’ve seen how low they have fallen, how they’re no longer worthy of their names. I’m ready to burn the world to the ground and rebuild it all by myself.

The Phoenix: Most men in my position, they’d just walk away. I’ve got money, fame… I don’t need any of this. I could relax on a beach for the rest of my days. But I won’t. Because even though the AOWF and REBEL Pro in particular are full of people that shouldn’t be allowed to speak to me, let alone wrestle me, I’m still the Phoenix and that still means something. I’m the greatest of all time and I refuse to let my legacy be tarnished by the filth and garbage that was accumulated here. I’m going to fight, bleed and suffer all in the name of a place I loath and a championship I despise. I’m willing to break men down, to crush and destroy them for fans that hate me. I’m ready to end careers all because I won a title I never wanted but even so, I’m the champion and that means something.

The Phoenix: In short, Sean, I’m willing to do all of that for something I don’t even care all that much about. So tell me Sean, if I will destroy my best friend for this title, just what, exactly, do you think I’m going to do to you?

REBEL Pro World Heavyweight Championship: HELL IN A CELL Match

Sean Robinson versus Rob “The Phoenix” Robinson

Our Main Event of the evening and finale of REBEL’s 2012 pits Robrob versus Robbo, for the World Heavyweight Championship inside a Hell in a Cell, the demonic structure lowering from the rafters onto ringside. At the height of 17 ft and weighing approximately two tons, this enclosure demands no disqualification, time limitless, and a victor by means of pinfall, submission or referee stoppage.

Kanye West’s “Amazing (Heartbeats Remix)” flares to an unbelievably boisterous optimism in the Olympic Stadium. During an immense explosion of hot-red-colored fireworks, out poured dozens of ballerinas (dressed in ‘Ultimate Warrior’ and ‘Macho Man’ attire) dance eloquently as the words “THIS IS WRESTLING” zip-lined across the theater projector screen in bold gold. Atop the steel structure holding together the jumbo tron is Sean Robinson, who performs a sexy-boy dance for all the sweet Angies of the world. Then, in true wrestling fashion, Robbo jumps off the tron to be zip-lined down and land precisely in front of the cell’s door, safely. Earlier in the entrance, Paul Alba went mostly unnoticed as he came in through the crowd to meet Robbo at the door so to open it for him. Sean fist bumps Alba once before entering the cage, thus ending his rather flamboyant introduction.

Europe’s “The Final Countdown” sprays its overplayed yet iconic jizz all up in our ears, but our eyes are forced to endure an impossibly showier firework display than Robbo’s. Instead of ballerinas, three dozen NFLesque cheerleaders wearing sluttier versions of Phoenix’s attire (yes, plus his mask) pompom and high-kick all in the name of AOWF’s & REBEL’s World Heavyweight Champion. Forming a large huddle, the cheerleaders bend forward and shake their asses at the crowd for a bit, and then shoot skyward like wannabe anime characters with huge, toothy smiles as the Phoenix emerges through a rising platform. Standing still for all to behold, the primary AOWF gem of a strap is wrapped firmly around The Phoenix’s waist as REBEL’s most prestigious belt dangles from his clenched fist held upward.

Fast-forward two minutes later since Phoenix spent the rest of his entrance pandering like a smug cunt; the two Robinsons stand face-to-face for the first time. Boiling anticipation is evident from our diehard fans that packed tightly inside the Stadium, likely to witness ultimate solution for many-a-questions in need of answering: which Robinson is the better wrestler, the better champion, the bigger cunt, the least overrated, the worst no-seller and the most flammable? We might not get an answer for ‘most flammable’ though, but who fucking knows, really. You know how these things go.

Referee John Chellios (who Sean Robinson has absolutely no love for as indicated by their short but intense stare-down prior to Robbo allowing Chellios to pat him down – even though this is no disqualification, so there’s no need for that?) raises the REBEL World title for all to see, particularly the main camera positioned far back in the stadium with a centre focus for viewers at home.

A dinging bell cues the beginning, and so both Robinsons lock up for a short-lived test of strength that Phoenix transitions into a wristlock, but one toe-kick to Robrob’s gut breaks that. When Robbo went forward to grab Phoenix, the World Champ thrusts his right shoulder into Robbo’s gut, lifts him and tries to drop him for an over-the-shoulder belly-to-back piledriver, but fortunately for Robbo fans, Sean slipped off. Rolling onto his knees, Sean sees an incoming dropkick in the nick of time, so bends backward for Phoenix to miss and fall onto his side. Robbo quickly applies a modified abdominal stretch with his right knee constantly digging into Phoenix’s backside. Having to twist his body so his arm would be free from an entrapment under his ribs but also allowing Robbo’s hold to become a firm crucifix armbar, Phoenix rolled Robinson into a shortcut schoolboy that did manage a one count, but Robbo flipped the whole thing spectacularly into an arm-trap crossface!!

Using his legs to push against the canvas, Phoenix once more rolls Sean into a schoolboy but instead of actually pinning, Phoenix impressively lifts Robbo with the single-arm entrapped inside a crucifix to sickeningly slam Robbo against his bent knee! Of course, the knee ‘merely’ struck the lower backside of Robbo, but this position also forced Robbo’s neck to take devastating impact against the canvas. Temporarily unable to think clearly, Robbo is forced to endure a sharp jumping knee drop to the abdomen, followed by a beautiful execution of the sharpshooter. It’s in this evidently painful submission (teeth clenched, nostrils flare and eyes shut tight are few of Sean’s indicative facial expressions) where Sean reacts smartly by pushing himself off the canvas and crawl via elbows to the ropes ever so gradually but accomplishes his mission to pull himself over the bottom rope, grab a crowbar lying underneath the ring (for some reason) and swing behind him to tap Phoenix in the shoulder.

Afraid of the next swing being stronger, Phoenix releases his hold, allowing Robbo to spill out of the ring and onto the ground below. Soon after on his feet, Robbo narrowly dodges a baseball slide, and so grabs Phoenix’s legs to drag him out of the ring, but Phoenix grabs the ropes to prevent himself from completely leaving. This only exposes Phoenix’s gut for Robbo to punch several times and then inverted atomic drop Phoenix before being shoved back inside the ring. Pulled onto his feet, Phoenix is whipped across the ring and crashes back-first against a turnbuckle. The space between both is long enough for Robbo to charge all rhinoceros-like but opts out of that cliché to let Robbo regain his balance and swiftly come after him. What follows is a series of hip-tosses, arm drags, some more armbars, but Phoenix’s release belly-to-belly suplex plants Sean for Robrob to capitalize stylishly by means of a rolling moonsault! Two count only, however.

Taken back to both standing, this is only for Robrob to utilize well a combination of arm-trap neckbreaker into a jumping senton, and when Robrob fell atop Sean’s stomach, he swiftly rolled onto his knees, took hold of Sean’s ankle to immediately apply an inverted cloverleaf that also prompted Sean to once again repeat his push up and crawl toward ropes. Unlike previously, Phoenix awesomely kicks Sean in the throat while the submission is intact, causing Sean to plant face-first onto the canvas!! Price of that outstanding prevention is Robrob’s grip loosened, so he dropped Robbo’s legs altogether. Instead of retrying for it again, Phoenix allows Sean to escape to the outside but quickly slingshots over-the-top for a crossbody that mostly hits the left side of Sean, therefore pushing Sean against the cell wall hard while Phoenix lands sideways.

Sure, Sean staggered for a little but this brought Robbo offensive control, which he smartly seized fast through an overhead gutwrench backbreaker rack flipped into a piledriver on the fucking concrete!!!


Larry Gordon: Why are they chanting that?

Rumors abound say a leaked sextape of Sean Robinson fucking his sister is on the internet, though nobody can tell if it’s really him due to predictably funky camera angles, and it’s also an inappropriate play on Robbo’s self-accepted “THIS IS WRESTLING” catchphrase, given tonight’s context. Anyway, as Phoenix laid badly dazed and likely injured on the ground, Robbo grabbed steel steps and returned to slam it against Phoenix’s chest/head, climb onto the top turnbuckle and dove off to double foot stomp the steps; likely crushing Phoenix’s skull inward!!!! Oh god, he didn’t! Somehow Phoenix is only bleeding from the nose. He must have blocked most of the impact with his hands.

Needing to pin Phoenix inside the ring, Robinson brings Phoenix upward but the World champ brought a sneaky uppercut along with him. Next, a powerful Irish whip forced Sean to be thrown into a cell wall so harshly, he drops onto his ass and grabs his head in pain. To worsen things, Phoenix throws the steel steps at Robinson, who luckily catches it before it could hurt him terribly, but unfortunately before he could move it away, Phoenix’s running dropkick cruelly smashes the steps into Sean’s face, breaking the challenger’s nose!

A large section of the crowd: P Dub A! P Dub A! P Dub A!

Apparently careless to return to the ring, The Phoenix demands for the cage door to be opened, and Referee John Chellios does so despite his duty obligating him to keep that shit locked! But, this is John Chellios, who does things by his way and he doesn’t give a damn what anyone else has to say because he’s from the rough streets of Sydney where he developed a background in amateur boxing and once saved his brother from a gang of smelly aussies (no offense, macca), but I digress. Guiding a senseless Sean Robinson by the nape of his neck like a bad dog toward the Spanish commentators’ table, The Phoenix occasionally stops to punch the challenger multiple times to keep him in check. Once they approach us, Phoenix lifts and muscles buster Robinson onto the small monitor on the Spanish table!! FUCK! Guys, you don’t understand how fucking messed that is. Our tables aren’t flimsy like most other wrestling promotion’s tables are. It takes a lot to bring these suckers down, so I imagine it wouldn’t feel good at all being slammed on them. Surprised by the tables’ refusal to break, Phoenix leaves Sean Robinson to awkwardly lie across it so.. so he can climb the Hell in a Cell!!! Oh dear, we knew this would happen. But what is he doing? Why is he going up there??


The Phoenix is positioning himself for an immensely high-angled, top-of-the-cell elbow drop that would surely cave in Sean’s chest and certainly end the career of them both!! AH HE’S GONNA – Oh he stopped just before the big leap! Oh, good! He stopped because Sean Robinson is stirring and moved off the table. Thank goodness. Christ, that’d have been sick. Not even REBEL Pro could have handled that extremity.

Halfway up the cage wall, Sean is more than ever noticeably frail but somehow pushes forward to join Phoenix at the top, who had quite the rest. Fans quieted down a lot in preparation for how this bout continues. When Phoenix approaches Robinson, Sean suddenly uppercuts Phoenix’s crotch, which garners a gasp from the crowd as Phoenix falls OFF THE CAGE!!!! NO!! HOLY SHIT! By the ankle, Sean caught Phoenix! Sean Robinson has saved Rob Robinson from doom!

Larry Gordon: Likely so death doesn’t cause the match’s end.

You may be right, but that’s fucking heroic. That’s really humane of Sean to do. A fall off this 17 foot high beast would have an Owen Hart vibe. Also, how the FUCK is Sean Robinson strong enough to pull Phoenix back onto the cell’s roof??? That’s amazing. I’m in rambling awe. Safely next to an exhausted Sean Robinson, The Phoenix rewards his ‘savior’ with courtesy of rest. As the standing Phoenix awaits for Robbo to stand as well, Phoenix says aloud, “take your time.” But Robbo gets to his feet quicker, wanting to meet Phoenix face-to-face once more. Although his desire is met, Robbo cannot properly exchange a dramatic ‘Rock versus Austin’ sequence of punches as a spot like this would usually call for. So, with Robbo collapsing onto a knee from exhaustion, Phoenix nastily knees Robbo in his bloodied face (steel step spot broke his nose, remember?) and performs a hat-trick of 5 back-to-back snap suplexes that dent several areas across the roof of the cell!!

Larry Gordon: Phoenix ought to be careful about that. He could accidentally send them both to a death!

Precisely stopping after the fifth snap suplex lands, Phoenix stands and sees Robbo terribly struggle to even move an inch.

The Phoenix: Take your time.

I can’t tell if he’s being smug now from this camera angle. Assisting Robbo onto his feet by the nape of his neck, Phoenix walks Robbo over to the edge of the cage.

The Phoenix: Take your time.



A huge mixed reaction occurs. Some chant Robbo’s name more passionately serious than before. Others sing the praise of this being wrestling. Most, however, are shocked by the graphic nature of this match.

Pushing himself up the cage by his feet and using his right arm to climb back to the top while favoring his left arm, with tears in his eyes, Sean Robinson finally makes it back to the top. The Phoenix golf claps for him.

The Phoenix: Well, well, well.

Spitting in Robbo’s face upon arrival, The Phoenix then kicks twice the injured arm of Sean

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to be a fucking cunt.

The Phoenix: This is wrestling.

Says Phoenix after forcing the delicate Robbo over to one of the dented spots in the roof, and then underhooks both arms to place Robbo in a familiar pedigree setup, goes to lift, but right then, the dent area slightly gives way thanks to their combined weight! Slipping his leg through the hole, Phoenix is caught off guard, and all Hollywood-flick-like, Robbo reverses by swinging a mad headbutt at Phoenix, blasting him rather super cool!! Dazed by that, Phoenix is easily brought between Sean Robinson’s legs. Doing his best Gerard Butler,

Sean Robinson: “THIS. IS. WRESTLING!”

Lifting Phoenix skyward, the area they stand on collapses, and perfectly (very fucking dreamlike for any wrestling fan) Sean Robinson brings The Phoenix down onto his neck/shoulder blades for THE GREATEST TIGER DRIVER 91 THAT CAN EVER BEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! 17 FEET DROP!!!


Do I really need to acknowledge the crazy reaction from these fans? I shouldn’t have to point how the overwhelming markage, the insane emotion, the chilling moment is; the fact REBEL Pro has just put on the greatest Hell in a Cell match possible, and these fans are bewildered*! Take that, Dome of Awfulness!

Bewildered by the fact The Phoenix did not die from that. His chest is pumping, his eyes are open (along with his mouth) but he’s not moving other than by breathing. As The Phoenix lies against the canvas, Sean Robinson can no longer stand. He has to fucking crawl on his stomach, like a baby. His knees will likely never be the same. A bloody Sean Robinson has tears streaming down his face, overcome with intense emotion as he lays his arm across The Phoenix’s chest. Sean Robinson’s moment – the very thing he lives for – is a mere three counts away! Come on, John Chellios! Count the damn pin! 1.



“Amazing (Heartbeats Remix)” roars loud as can be as Paul Alba hurriedly grabs the REBEL Pro World Heavyweight Championship (he, too, crying tears of joy) and enters through the cell door to present Sean “The Undisputed” Robinson with the championship he unquestionably deserves! Again, Sean cannot sit up, quite possibly due to the immense pain he looks to be suffering, but even though Robinson lays on his back, the close-up camera angle from the rafters shows him hugging his World Championship with not only tears sliding down his face but a huge, bloody grin.

Still, the Phoenix hasn’t moved. I don’t think he can move.

Larry Gordon: LOOK!

Three hooded robed, black masked men of different sizes rush down the rampway but Sean Robinson is oblivious. Paul Alba is not. In fact, tearing a page from Robbo’s book, Paul Alba tries to be heroic by defending Robbo from these mysterious attackers! Well…


That heroism didn’t pan out well. =( Now the three men are stomping a mud hole into Sean Robinson!

Larry Gordon: Look at the ramp!

It’s a hobo! And a pretentious, oddly wealthy Mexican! It’s the rest of Wrestling’s Undisputed! Here they come to save the daaaaay! When the newly crowned Undisputed REBEL Tag Champions clash with the unknown, hooded figures, it’s the masked guys that beat the shit out of Deicide and Salazar! God, the tag champions are being overwhelmed.

Larry Gordon: It’s the numbers game.

Also because all of Wrestling’s Undisputed had crazy, hard-fought battles tonight. They’re in no damn shape to fight off these people! One of them has laid out Deicide with a Double A flavored spinebuster. Salazar suffers from a GORE GORE GORE by another! Robbo has it worse: figure-four leglock that maximizes the pain in his legs!! As that fucked up submission is in play, the two remaining masked men stomp on Sean’s chest to really lay into him. Security comes pouring down the ramp as the Phoenix finally is able to stand, albeit appearing incredibly weak, but still strong enough to drop an elbow onto Robbo’s chest.

Wait, wait, wait. We’re not over quite yet. Fade back in to that horrible championship aftermath.

That’s it. Now you see that ring, right? That ring in which one Phoenix is standing and the other Sean is knocked the fuck out? Hear the Canadians going batshit crazy? See the balloons and streamers floating about? Well, consider this part a pay-per-view extra. The party is continuing as it really shouldn’t but cialis 30 day reviews does regardless. The champ’s fucked, the world’s mad, the Kalis’ are happy because screw it, they’re making money. Champagne would be flying everywhere but now people are depressed. Blah blah blah. It’s insanity.

Well, ladies and gents, it’s about to get worse.

From the ramp, PuppetVirus, and PuppetSimon arrive with a good fuckton of soldiers at their disposal on foot. Without warning, the forces charge towards the ring with a feverous rush. The jobber minions of He Who Must Not Be Sane quickly spring into action by sliding out of the ring ready to defend themselves. When the PuppetBrigade seems like they’re winning, the Justin Case fans jump the damn barricade and start aiding those shadowy types. It’s a furious battle that the Puppets are starting to lose. Phoenix scratches his chin wondering exactly what the hell is going on.

But just when hope seems lost for our puffed up army, the house lights brighten forcing the people in and around the ring to squint their eyes. Shadowy figures show up in the stairwells and in the stands. They are riding high and tall on their various steeds. Some are short and fluffy. Others big and burly. But with enough squinting, Linzi Martin spots the leader of the pack.


Indeed, from a side entrance, Anna sits on a steroid-filled moose named Travolta. Her white robes seem to rustle as she twirls her old stick. The puppets are geared for one hell of a melee, wielding guns, samurai swords, microphones, and at least one magic wand. PuppetLisa sits on MuppetChutulu, impatient as all hell and screaming random obscenities to the crowd. The second wave of cake-fed henchmen sit on their horses impassively. The Dodo Queen stops twirling her staff and yells out something.

“Tempus frangit, motherfuckaz!”

And just as quickly, all hell breaks loose as the whole damn group comes from every damn direction possible. The lights are still bright enough to fry an egg so the already brain dead Case fan club can’t see that her particular group are heading right towards them. But the time they realize it, they are already trampled, tentacle raped, and forced into hobbling for their lives. PuppetLiza apologizes profusely as her bunny rabbit hops along without a care in the world. As for the fans that can actually move out of the way? Those cheers and screams are going make your ears hurt. Rob-Rob’s group fight valiantly, but at the end, they’re forced into running also. Everything is at a standstill as the mass of human-plushmanity looks at the only thing that’s left: the ring and the last remnants of the Underground. Johnny Maverick appears on his own four-legged friend as Anna looks towards him.

“Yoor late!”

“Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Recking stuff. Wanna come?”


Headtilt. “Doo wii honestlee kneed a reason?”

A million thoughts seem to whiz by his brain before he ultimately shrugs. With a Rebel yell, she cried more, more, more and the gathering begins to stampede down the ramp. Now would be a great time for everybody to abandon ship. I mean, getting blown up is one thing. Getting mangled by hooves and AK shots and misfired magic is another. With no more people left to fight, the whole damn army just says ‘screw it’and charges anyway. The might of many causes the squared circle the be push back a few feet before ultimately collapsing under the strain. Anna raises her walking stick high to everybody’s enjoyment as this PPV…finally…dies. Happy new year, morons.


The Uproars defeat Might & Magic
Jaice Wilds defeats Mike Majere
Jake Norton and Reece Jackson draw.
Allen Chaney defeats Fine Wine winning the NOC Trophy
Wrestling’s Undisputed defeat the KKK, becoming RPW’s Undisputed World Tag Team Champs
Justin Case defeats Anna Mathews, becoming the new Aggression Champion!
Sean Robinson defeats The Phoenix, becoming the new REBEL Pro World Champion!

Aggression 12-10-2012

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Massacre

“Bad, Bad Man” by John Cena is the first loud sound to overcome ringside, and that could only mean one thing: UX Legend Reece Jackson. But he’s not wearing his pure white tights as usual. Instead, the old-school wrestler is dressed as Santa Claus! With a very long roll of parchment in hand, Bad Santa (aptly named by a flash pop-up window viewers at home only see), walks to the ring whilst waving at all the delighted men, women and children. Up the steel steps Bad (Man) Santa wobbles, and on the apron Bad Santa performs his trademark funky dance, which garners louder cheers. Some techie fetches a microphone for Bad Santa, but it’s when he receives it do UX fans take the throwback to the good old days (which were only seven months ago).

Bad Santa Reece Jackson: “HEY HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Merry Massacre, all you boys and skanks!!”

That isn’t for another week, bad man..

Bad Santa Reece Jackson: “Bad Santa been sitting at home watching this horeshit of a promotion while Mrs. Claus licks Bad Santa’s sack, do ya feel?”

Bad Santa winks at a child in the first row, whose mother is shocked, judging by her agape mouth and hands that quickly cover her boy’s ears.

Bad Santa: “When all is said and done, only one faggot managed to not be shittier than missing your mates wedding to go see Foo Fighters live, Bad Santa’s son, Macca! He broke records! He realized the dream his baddy couldn’t! Bad Man so damn proud to call him son.”

Bad Santa wipes a tear from his eye.

Bad Santa: “But Marvin Wood? Two words: Tommy Idol! Simon Kalis? Maybe you’ll get a wig in your stocking, faggot. Virgil Keenan? Climb in a steel cage with Bad Man, asshole! Bad Man will FACK you humble!”

Uhm, two of those people are gone, and what did Simon ever do to you?

Bad Santa: “Worst of all, that retarded-eyed, little SHIT who would cling to Bad Man’s ten inch thick knob, Jake Norton, tried to fuck Macca’s hot streak worse than Bad Man’s alleged rape on Fluffy the cat!!”

Several “Fluffy” chants break out in mockish tone, but Bad Santa thinks they’re supportive.

Bad Santa: “–Bad Man did not have sexual relations with that feline. Ok, maybe Bad Man 69′d it but it was consensual. Ask Larry Fields how wide Bad Man ripped Willie William’s juicy sweet pussy cat! By the way, while you’re at it, ask Larry how Sabu is coz Bad Man meant to visit him in the hospital but traffic has been FACKing horrible lately, so Bad Man sold the children to some local rapist named Bob.”

… Really, Bad Santa? Insinuating you traffic children and helped a child molester get off is smart?? Where do we draw the line?!

Bad Santa: “Speaking of Rapist Bob, Bad Santa should have dropped your too-retarded-to-ride-a-bicycle, faggot-asshole off at his flat, too, Jakey! BAD SANTA FACKING HATE how you think you can be a tough guy without da bad guy’s permission!”

Bad Santa does the Scott Hall pose with his hands, showing off his nonexistent abs.

Bad Santa: “You can’t drop the pipe bombs like Bad Man. You can’t wrestle clinics! Can’t even ride a FACKING BICYCLE yet you FACKing try to be a World Champion?! You won’t win the big one, Jakey! Not if Bad Man got a say!!”

A handful of seconds go by with Bad Man continuing his vulgar output, but John Williams’ “E.T.” cuts him off, to fans’ delight! Out in ring attire, ready to fight here and now, if need be; Norton also has a microphone!

Jake Norton: “Jesus, Reece. What the hell do you want?”

Rather serious upon Norton’s arrival, Bad Santa sternly points to Norton with a scowl.

Bad Santa: “You, punk ass motherfaggot!”

Pointing at himself now, Norton smiles goofily.

Jake Norton: “Now?”

Bad Santa: “FACK No! Bad Man won’t wrestle for these faggots for free! At Merry Time Massacre, in Santa’s Grotto, WE WRESTLE!!”

Confused by the stipulation, Norton wonders aloud, “the heck is that?”

Bad Santa: “Time.. to die!”

Reece Jackson points to the rafters in Sabu fashion, and when the camera looks up, Christy Greene is at the top, with a rope in her hand!! She releases her hold on the rope, then back down at the entrance-way, a pile of shit comes falling down onto Jake Norton!! Fans MARK as Norton slips each time he tries to stand! We fade to commercial on audio of Jake Norton cursing worse than Bad Man has in this segment!

Vintage C-Luke

So these guys in the back drinkin, eatin, an sittin behind whatever desk pad and pen their sittin behind. Decide to put me in my debut match against the prodigy child of Goldust and Marlena. Well my message to that jolly gold giant is: I’m sorry you gotta be the first victim in C-Luke the light knights long raise an run to the top. But with all due respect and no respect at the same time the N.B.W.F starts its foundation on you glodipops.

Welcome to REBEL Pro Match!

C-Luke versus Jeremy Gold

As C-Luke and Jeremy Gold stand in the ring, Gold sighs heavily and begins to pray that this battle be done with quickly. However Jenny Jersey quickly gets back on the microphone and announces that someone else has been added to this match and suddenly, “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons hits and the marks in the crowd immediately go nuts.

Welcome to REBEL Pro Match!

C-Luke versus Jeremy Gold versus Mike Majere

Mike Majere comes out to the ring and immediately slides in, with both Gold and Luke rushing him to stomp him out as the bell sounds. Majere rolls away and Gold accidentally slaps C-Luke, and immediately drops to his knees and begins to cry and apologize for his own insolence. Majere takes the distraction as an opportunity and goes up behind C-Luke but C turns around only to be met with an enziguri for his trouble. He hits the canvas hard and then Majere grabs Gold and pulls him to his feet, and unleashes a number of kicks striking Gold over his thighs and ribs before putting him down with a roundhouse kick. C-Luke goes for a roll up pin on Majere but doesn’t even get a 1 count as Majere immediately rolls out of it. Both men up and C-Luke goes for a clothesline and gets whipped into the corner for his trouble. Majere charges and spears him, crushing C-Luke in the corner. Jeremy Gold, crying and screaming, charges at Mike Majere. Majere grabs him and whips him into the ropes and as Gold comes back he hits Beau Idéale!!! He covers! 1! 2!! 3!!!

Winner: Mike Majere in 3:25

Earlier This Week

We fade in on the office of Simon Kalis, current defending majority owner of REBEL Pro. A knock is heard at the door… something Kalis isn’t exactly used to. Cause it’s a sign of respect, and who the fuck has any respect left for Simon?

Simon Kalis: Door’s open.

In walks REBEL’s most electrifying star to date, the ever insane Jaice Wilds. Jaice closes the door behind him as he walks in, Kalis with a slight grin.

Simon Kalis: Wilds, my boy! Good to see you back from Mexico! How was your stint down there?

Jaice nods, extending a hand to his employer. Kalis reaches out, the two shaking as Jaice replies.

Jaice Wilds: You were right, Mr. Kalis. The talent down there is out of this world. I think I’ve added a whole new edge to my already crazy style.

Simon Kalis: Is that possible?

Jaice Wilds: I asked myself that a hundred times. And the answer is- surprisingly- yes.

Simon shakes his head, muffling a laugh. He motions for Wilds to take a seat, sitting on his own side of the desk as he takes a moment.

Simon Kalis: So, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in my office again?

Jaice raises a brow, a cocky smile spreading as he speaks.

Jaice Wilds: If you don’t know the answer to that already, I’m not sure you’re quite the genius I thought you were.

Simon gives Jaice a ‘watch-it-boy’ look, shaking his head. He goes into a desk drawer, pulling out a sheet of paper.

Simon Kalis: Well, Jaicey-boy, I just might have something for you. Let’s see… how about we test your ring rust in a little return match against…

Jaice Wilds: Anna Mathews? Bubba J? Emily Corlen. Matt Stone? Is he even on the roster anymore? How about one of the UX guys? Or maybe even…

Simon Kalis: … Bobby Lee.

Jaice pauses, raising a brow. He shakes his head, looking for a hint of sarcasm in his boss’ face.

Jaice Wilds: You… you’re joking, right?

Simon Kalis: What’s wrong with Bobby?

Jaice Wilds: Nothing… I mean… Okay, he’s got heart, and I respect that he comes in day in and day out purely for the love of the game, but…

Simon Kalis: The perpetual losing thing?

Jaice Wilds: The perpetual losing thing!

Simon shakes his head, jotting something on the paper. He stuffs it back in his desk drawer, looking to Wilds.

Simon Kalis: I like you, Jaice. You’re potentially one of my top guys.

Simon smiles.

Simon Kalis: But I can’t just rearrange everything for the simple fact that you want to hit the roster again. You and Bobby Lee. Take it or leave it.

Jaice takes a deep breath, thinking it over. Simon awaits, seeming to already know the response coming his way. Jaice shakes his head, a sigh.

Jaice Wilds: Well, I guess it’s better than sitting on the sidelines. Alright, I’ll face Bobby. Let’s hope he’s learned a few tricks while I’ve been away.

Jaice stands, nodding to Simon. Kalis nods back, Jaice turning towards the door. He pulls it open, walking out. Simon shakes his head.

Simon Kalis: Now, where was I?

Simon turns the TV back on in his office and resumes playing the new Dragonborn DLC for Skyrim as we fade.

Jaice Who?

“Jaice Wilds”

Bobby Lee is in the middle of his delapidated, dirty, filthy, and obviously belonging to a drug addict living room. Bobby Lee is sitting in a pair of torn bluejeans, no shirt, and with a hippy style bandana tied around his head.

“Jaice Wilds…”

He seems to be in some sort of meditative state, but white stuff covers his face from below his nose down.

“I am going to defeat you because you are worthless.”

Calmness from the former Curtain Jerker Champion.

“When you left no one missed you, no one even cared, they were like Jaice Who?”

A smirk across his features.

“I know that I am a laughing stock in this company, I have embraced that role. I know that I am not much of a fighter, I am not much of a wrestler, but at the same time I know myself to be a laughing stock.”

He opens his eyes, staring into the camera.

“While all of that is true, I remained here, I went in week in and week out. I gave Bubba J a match for the ages! People know my name, regardless of if I am here, if I am not, if I am booked, or if I am not. You on the other hand… it was… Jaice Who?”


Welcome (back) To REBEL Pro Match!

Jaice Wilds versus Bobby Lee

In what was one of the craziest matches we’ve seen in a long time EVER Jaice Wilds displayed incredibly acrobatic skills with his full frontal aerial assault on Bobby Lee. While Bobby Lee did manage to get in some offense, Jaice Wilds ended that with Aerial Ace and his triumphant return was complete with a victory. The crowd cheered the former Aggression Champion, and everyone was happy. Except maybe Bobby Lee.

Winner: Jaice Wilds in 15:42

Bar Sluts Rock!

A red truck, more specifically a Z-71, sits in the parking lot of some bar in some city. Smoke streams out of the window as the man, more specifically Bubba J, sits in the truck waiting on his tag team partner to come back out.

~Scene switch~

Macca is in the bar, stepping up to the counter, where the bartender steps up as well, shock on her face.

BT: “You are Macca!”

Macca turns around, as though he’s looking for Macca himself, he quickly turns back.

Macca: “Where?!”

Again he spins around, looking for Macca.

BT: “You are!”

She’s star struck.

Macca: “Oh yeah, I forget…”

He points to his temple.

Macca: “You know, all the chair shots and all.”

The woman laughs.

BT: “What can I get for you?”

Macca leans on the bar.

Macca: “A date with you?”

The woman is blushing now, when the door opens up and a smoking Bubba J steps into the bar.

Bubba J: “What the hell man?”

He walks up to the woman, he eyes her breasts.

Bubba J: “Nice tits.”

The woman is in shock, but manages to blush even more.

Bubba J: “They real?”

The woman nods, Macca laughs, Bubba J stares.

BT: “You are Bubba J!”

Bubba J lifts his underwear band out of his pants, looking down at it then nods.

Bubba J: “Yup, last time I checked… and that was recently.”

They all laugh, though the woman(BT) is doing it nervously.

BT: “Whaa…(throat clearing) What can I get you gentlemen?”

Macca: “A beer would be nice.”

Bubba J: “A shot of Jack Old Number 7, with a beer chaser.”

Macca: “Sounds better.”

Bubba J: “Amberbock or Coors if ya got it.”

Macca: “Piss…”

Bubba J: “I can give you some piss, if you’d rather drink that.”

They both laugh again, they seem to be getting along very well. The woman fixes their drinks before coming back and setting them down.

Bubba J: “So, what do you think about our match this week in the tag fest shit Simon’s got booked?”

Both men down their shots in an instant before following it up with a mouthful of their beer chaser.

Macca: “Should be a laugh if nothing else. We’re up against Golden Inferno yeah? Sounds like someone with a urinary tract infection is describing taking a piss.”

A chuckle comes from Bubba as he signals for another two shots while taking another drink from the beer in front of him.

Bubba J: “It’s an opportunity though Mac.”

A raised eyebrow from Macca is Bubba’s only reply.

Bubba J: “Almost the whole tag division will pretty much be on display this week. It’s our chance to show them what we fucking plan to do to this division. I say we go out there and really step up our game. We can put on such a clinic that Wrestling’s Undisputed vs. Might & Magic will look like amateurs taking the piss. We can make it so that compared to us Fine Wine should be called goon bag and The Uproars we will make look like such a shambles that people will doubt if they should even be a tag team. And Golden Inferno?”

The bartender makes her way back to the two men with the new shots. She places them down on the bar but they don’t sit there long as Bubba and Macca immediately slam them down.

Bubba J: “I think we make it so they just plain can’t walk.”

Macca: “Let these cunts know that we are The Toughest Bastards in REBEL? I’ll drink to that.”

The men share a nod before taking another chug of the chaser. Another round of shots is also ordered.

Macca: “So how do we plan on doing this anyway. You probably know more about these sacks of crap than I do. Any suggestions?”

Bubba J slides onto the bar stool, reaching for an ashtray and lighting up; he’s sitting there thinking.

Bubba J: “Well, Jeremy is in two matches that night, both of which he’ll lose.”

Macca leans forward on the bar.

Bubba J: “Well, he’ll lose the match in which he faces us anyways. He’ll be distracted by trying to run away from pain, looking for who knows what shit, and all around being a petrified cunt.”

Bubba J with a nod towards Macca, for him using the word “cunt”.

Bubba J: “I’m not saying that he’s definitely going to be a push over or a definite win, nor even an easy win; because look at what happened with me and Bobby Lee.”

Macca laughs, swallowing some beer as Bubba J does the same, chasing that with a drag of the cigarette(Marlboro Menthol Light).

Bubba J: “Not damn funny.”

J stares at him, a grin around the cigarette.

Bubba J: “But I do know that this pathetic replica of the real Inferno… is nothing but like an after-market part for a vehicle. It fills the spot, but pales in comparison to the real thing.”

He takes a drag.

J: “He likes to set things on fire, perhaps him and Gold set each other’s brushes aflame every night I don’t know, but I know he’s nothing to worry about. I’ve fought the real Inferno on a few occasions and after watching this guy… I’m more fearful of facing Bobby Lee without his steroid induced courage and strength.”

Another smirk from Bubba J.

J: “But what I want to know is how tough do we get? Do we show all that we have in one match? Do we leave a little bit in our back pocket? Or do we go out and wow them with it all Monday night?”

A shrug from Bubba J.

J: “They know that we are the Toughest Bastards, they know it isn’t just a name, they know it is a life style… and for those that don’t know…, after they are picking dentures out at a dentist’s office… they’ll know.”

Bubba J waits, thinking to himself as another order of shots arrive, then he nods.

Bubba J: “And like I love to say… There. Ain’t. Nothing. They. Can. Do. About. It.”

They throw the shots back, chugging down the last of the beer.

Bubba J: “Another?”

Macca: “Never knocked back a drink before, don’t plan to start now.”

Bubba gives a nod in return and another shot is placed in front of them. This shot gets replaced by another, then another and yet another. Finally after another dozen shots, Macca decides (for possibly the first time n his life) to be the voice of reason.

Macca: “Alright J, as cozy as this place is I think we should head off. Don’t want to turn up late for the show.

Bubba Lets out a grunt but nods his head to show that he agrees. Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieves his wallet before pulling out a handful of notes and slapping them down on the counter. As both men stand to begin to make their way back out they are stopped once more by the bartender.

BT: “Excuse me gentlemen. I was just-”

Bubba lets loose with a loud growl.

Bubba J: “For fucks sake woman. Hurry up and get us a napkin and you can have your fucking autograph. Just make it quick, we need to be out of here soon.”

The bartender is momentarily stunned before she regains her composure and tries to speak again.

BT: Actually I was going -”

But is cut off again.

Macca: “A bit of respect for the lady Bubba. Fucking hell. Can’t you see the slut is keen on my number? Now have you got a pen love? Let’s see if I can help you out in making your future a good one.”

Macca gives the bartender a grin that looks like it should belong on a sexual predator. The bartender blushes and for a moment looks like she is considering the offer before she remembers that she is supposed to be doing her job.

BT: “I actually was going to ask which one of you is the DD.”

Bubba J: “I think they’re sitting on your chest love.”

High five!

BT: “No, I meant the designated driver.”

Macca/Bubba J: “Oh, him.”

Both men point to the other before they notice what they are doing.

Macca/Bubba J: “Fuck.”

BT: “I’m sorry gentlemen, but I am going to have to ask for your keys.”

Macca lets loose with a string of expletives as Bubba just gives an annoyed nod before reaching into a pocket to grab his keys.

BT: “Sorry guys, just doing my job.”

Bubba gives a nod and pulls his hand out of his pocket -

Bubba J: “No worries love. Here you are.”

- and flips her the bird.

Bubba J: “Fucking bail!”

And with that Bubba legs it out the front entrance of the bar. Macca takes a second to realise what is happening before following in J’s example, but not before tripping over a barstool on his way out. The bartender can only let out a sigh as the sound of a Z-71, leaving the majority of the rubber from its tires in the bar parking lot, speeds off to freedom.

Poor Gold Is Double Booked Match

The Toughest Bastards versus Golden Inferno

Be serious, when Simon Kalis announced this booking, what did you expect the outcome to be? Would it be Jeremy Gold slap and scratch his way to victory? He definitely tried. Yet, Bubba harshly served his bronze-ass haymaker punches into a Thesz press, followed by even more mindboggling punches! As that happened, the Cuntster catapulted Inferno over the top rope, and then slung himself to the outside for an angled swan dive! Effectively eliminating Inferno permanently by flapjack dropping him atop nearby steel steps, Macca then rolled back into the ring to see Bubba J suplex powerslam Jeremy.

Ascending the top turnbuckle, Macca flies forward, with Bubba assisting by throwing Macca off the turnbuckle, thus increasing Macca’s range, height and impact with the body splash onto Jeremy Gold! Without complaint, that finish is enough to extinguish Golden Inferno and give the Toughest Bastards their first formal tag victory! Fans rejoice (but not in the lame Keenan sense), “Kick It In The Sticks” cues and it’s only natural for the two redneck cunts to throw a beer bash at ringside along with the thousands in attendance.

Filmed Earlier…

We’re in a mall. Kids and their parents are looking eager, and frustrated, as they wait for the chance to sit in Ol’ Saint Nick’s lap. However, as we pan down the line towards Santa, we see a sign that says “Thirty minute wait.” The surprise it, it’s right next to him. Santa doesn’t look very cheerful though, as sitting on his lap, each to a leg, are Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie; Fine Wine. Odds are, if things don’t speed up, Wilkie’s ass will cost him that leg.

Santa: Boys, I still don’t get what you want.

McNasty: It’s simple Santa. We want our valuable time. Because last week, we beat The Uproars.

Santa: The who?

Wilkie: This isn’t musical Jepordy Santa.

McNasty: So like I said, we beat them, but now we have to fight them again, AND Allen Chaney.

Wilkie: So we want them to get the point that they are wasting their time, and ours!

Santa simply tries to blink a few times to grasp what’s going on.

Santa: Boys, if I promise to do what you’re asking, will you move along so the little tykes can get a little cheer in their day?

McNasty and Wilkie smile.

McNasty: Of course!


Santa and McNasty look at Wilkie with surprise.

Wilkie:…I want a ton of Twinkies before they disappear forever.

Santa: Um…done.

Wilkie: YIP-PIE!

Wilkie jumps off Santa’s knee, and jumps in the air, kicking his heels; before running off-screen. McNasty simply face palms and slips Santa a fifty for his time before walking off.

Also filmed earlier:

We go backstage to find McNasty and Wilkie standing infront of a Rebel banner. They are both in wrestling attire, but stacked behind them are about fifty boxes of Twinkies. Wilkie is shoving one after another down his gullet.

McNasty: Wilkie, why are you eating them like that?

Wilkie speaks inbetween eating.

Wilkie: Because…despite popular belief…Twinkies expire. I figure…if I store them in my stomach…I can pull them out whenever I want….Like Mayor West on Family Guy stored that survival kit.

McNasty: Wilkie, there is so much wrong with that theory I don’t think we have time to go over it. Therefore….keep at it champ.

Wilkie holds a thumb up and smiles as he continues eating. McNasty turns his attention to the camera.

McNasty: Uproars, I’m a nice guy. I hate to disappoint people. That’s why it kills me so that you two are going against us again. And there isn’t even money on this line this time…

McNasty suddenly turns green and looks like he’s seen a ghost.

McNasty: Wilkie…where did you get the money for all those Twinkies?

Wilkie stops eating to finally breath.

Wilkie: I found some suitcase full of money in the back seat while you went into that gas station to pee.

McNasty goes from green to red. He really is in the holiday spirit!

McNasty: Excuse me a second folks.

The screen changes to a white background with a still picture of McNasty and Wilkie skipping through a field of flowers with the words “We’ll be right back.” on it. We come back to find McNasty downing a bottle of Jack. When he finishes, he tosses it off stage.

Wilkie: Aren’t you an alcoholic?


Wilkie: *Gasp* you’re right!

Wilkie goes back to that as McNasty attempts to stand up, speak, and look forward all at the same time. A bit difficult for him now.

McNasty: So…Uproars, as I was sayin’, there is no money on the line. You simply are in this for…for what? I don’t know. To show you two can work together? Is that it? Did I get it? Or maybe you just don’t want to give up. Don’t want everyone to think you’re quitters. Well boys, lemme tell you sum’in. Quitting when you can’t win is sometimes the best thing to do. Of course,

McNasty laughs, and leans back to the point he is against the wall. He pushes off and stumbles a little before finding his footing again.

McNasty: I would not know about quitting. But you know who would? Allen Chaney. Yep. Allen was on top of the AOWF world. For a week or so at least. Then he lost the belt, retreated to TGW, or BWF, or RXW, who can keep up with this crap anymore? Wait, where was I?

McNasty blinks one eye at a time. Wilkie takes a deep breath.

Wilkie: Chaney, quitting, TGW.

McNasty: RIGHT, RIGHT…right. He goes there, and pretty much bips off the map. Next thing we know, he works at Burger Queen, and fights fans. Stay classy San Diego!

McNasty burps.

McNasty: Chaney, Uproars, you both want to be here…I think. But me and Wilkie, we live here. We’ve been here almost half a decade. We aren’t leaving now. And we sure as hell aren’t taking three steps back by losing our stride now. If you guys want to get made, stop trying to cheat the system by fighting the tens, when you are on the two level. Beat some level three talent, maybe even steal a win from a level four! In a few years, maybe then you can try to beat us again. But for now, it’s just another thing that is going to keep causing you stress. Keep making you feel like you can’t win. Because, lets be honest, against us…

McNasty and Wilkie pose. It doesn’t necessarily give the desired effect though considering McNasty is plastered and can barely stand, and Wilkie has a half eaten Twinkie hanging from his mouth.

McNasty: You guys just don’t have a chance. So we’ll see you out there. But hopefully, after losing to us for a second week in a row, you’ll get the idea. I hear Golden Inferno is looking for training partners.

McNasty begins laugh uncontrollably, and falls off camera. Wilkie looks down, shrugs, and goes back to his Twinkies.

We pan out to the ring.

Larry Gordon: I hope McNasty sobered up by now.

Linzi Martin: I hope Wilkie’s heart didn’t stop.


“IS THAT WHAT I ASKED YOU TO TO FUCKING DO, NATHAN DRAKE?!?! YOU SMARMY COCKSUCKER!” shouts Allen Chaney from his new super comfy gaming chair. He downs another Diet NoS energy drink and crushes it on his skull before tossing it behind him. We hear it collide with what we can assume is a large pile of cans offscreen. Allen is in a ‘MF DOOM’ t-shirt and his trademark sleeveless flannel. He has a Playstation 3 controller in hand and dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh…hey…camera. I uh…I did some black friday shopping and got…you know what? Too many. I got too many games. I bought a lot of games I never got around to buying and uh…well lets see yesterday I beat Rage, beat the ‘Classic Era’ mode of AOWF ’13, played Dragon Age: Origins for some amount of time, then took a breather with Uncharted Thr- BAG OF SHIT!” says Allen as Nathan Drake falls down another ravine. he’s usually a far better game than this, but playing nonstop for a day and a half has taken its toll. He hadn’t even STARTED on God of War 3 or Transformers: Fall of Cybertron. Allen starts at the last checkpoint and never takes focus away from the screen as he talks.

“So, Simon Kalis is continuing to flex his revenge boner in my direction and I say good. Put me in tag match by myself against two teams? Awesome, a chance to show how unfuckwithable I am. The odds are not in my favor for sure, but as Walt Disney once said, ‘It is kind of fun to do the impossible’. Then he probably said something about wanting to kill all the Jews. I think if I focused I can finish off four dudes. Hell, my old tag partner Marina could finish off four dudes and all she had do was lay back. HEY-OH!” Allen says, turning to the camera top flash us a big cheesy smile and a thumbs up. He falls down another pit but he lets it go and loads up his checkpoint.

“Still, there is the possibility the odds are stacked up so high that I may need a little help, unfortunately there’s a ton of strictly enforced rules in REBEL Pro that would prevent people from helping me and…oh wait. No there aren’t. I guess the only thing THEN that would be stopping that is the fact that there’s probably no one in REBEL who has that night off who would be willing to help me. Say like a good friend or a roommate who happens to be a tag team specialist.” says Allen as Johnny Maverick wanders into the kitchen area behind Allen in their apartment and yawns as he pours himself a bowl of Boo Berry, he’s wearing a tshirt, pajama pants, and his REBEL Tag Title.

“Now my opponents are probably going to tell you all a THRILLING tale about how I am fat and not funny and how me being here is an affront to all that is professional wrestling as these are the only things people seem capable of saying about me even if someday I was able to get on stage, drop 150 pounds in an instant, yank Matthew Engel out of hiding from the back of my audience, cocksmack him into submission and pin him then do a joke that causes the first few rows of the audience to suddenly die of Uproarious laughter. Uproarious, see what I did there? The Eastern Uproars I’m sure will be no exception to this rule, despite me holding a victory over one of them. I beat one of them once, and the other one was interfering like a motherfucker…I think. I don’t know, my memory of that one is a bit sketchy what with all of the walls currently dissolving around me. So yeah, all I remember about Loomis is that his name is interesting to say and I beat him once by moonsaulting on top of him and all I remember about other guy is…less. I’m gonna guess his name is Jasper because that name is about as good as Loomis and it makes them both sound like very kind elderly African-American gentlemen. Like, two guys playing chess outside of a barber shop in a movie made by Tyler Perry. There, do you see what your names did? Now I might lose because I’m laughing at you while I’m fighting because I’m going to imagine you in a Tyler Perry film. Just kidding, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to smash you into things. Pointy things. Grrrr.” Says Allen, making an angry Grr face for real as Nathan Drake gets shot by a sniper.

“Alex Wilkie and Mark McNasty. There once was a time they were both serious competitors, but they have nearly done as good a job of ruining their credibility as Jay-Z and Kanye West did when they started unironically referring to themselves as H.A.M. and wanted us to all take it super seriously and not point out how absolutely fucking ridiculous that was. You know the thing about fine wine? Just like any other wine if you open it up and spill a few drops It’ll quickly just become vinegar. I plan on spilling more than a few drops of Fine Wine on the canvas. You two have had your glory days, and mine are coming quickly. Within these next few months I am going to have a title belt around my waist and my boot is gonna be so far up Rob Robinsons ass he’ll be able to floss with my shoelaces. You two are probably going to fade back into the obscurity you probably belong in and will hopefully do it before you shit on even more of your reputation.” Ouch, Allen doesn’t pull punches when he’s fucking exhausted.

“In UX I showed that I was there to dominate and I arrived here and showed I was going to do the exactly the same thing. Put whatever obstacles you want in my way, Simon. There isn’t a damn thing that is gonna stop the Stand-Up Smackdown.” says Allen as he hears chewing beside him. He finally looks away from the screen and turns his head at the sound to see a floating chipmunk in a spacesuit.

“Allen. You need to get some rest before your match.” says the chipmunk.

“Yeah, yeah you are probably right cosmic chipmunk. Thank you for sharing a few bits of your interstellar wisdom with me.” Says Allen. He stands up, takes two steps, then collapses on the floor. Johnny ‘The Cosmic Chipmunk’ takes his seat and grabs his PS3 controller. We fade out as Johnny starts playing.

Rubber Match Triple Threat of Doom NOW WITH MORE COMEDY! (You wanted to be here Chaney!)

Fine Wine versus The Uproars versus Allen Chaney

“Cult of Personality” brought the comical Fine Wine many cheers, as expected. They’re hilarious skits and uncanny chemistry have skyrocketed the AoWF icons back into mainstream adoration. The Uproars, on the other hand, aren’t doing nearly as excellent as their UX days, unfortunately. In fact, even some fans have grown disdain for Edison’s excessive arrogance.

Both teams fittingly fill the goodies and baddies columns, but Allen Chaney’s arrival drew a grey area. Due to his anti-AoWF message during his short-lived yet wildly successful UX days, Chaney has to work his way back into these REBEL diehards’ hearts, but UX fans in attendance certainly embrace him. More so when Chaney pointed behind him and fans saw one half of REBEL’s Tag Team Champions, Johnny Maverick, enter wearing attire appropriate for action!

Although formerly fit, Alex Wilkie can reasonably still take flight, not so much through the assistance of ropes but off the mat alone: midway through the match, Wilkie flipped backward for an amazingly flexible moonsault side slam to Maverick!

Edison’ high-risk diving technique (variations of snap DDTs in both inverted and reversed fashion, backbreakers delivered by the knees, and an effective tilt-a-whirl which sent McNasty against the ropes back-first upside down, and then harshly landing on his noggin) evidently prove superior to everyone else’s technique, likely due to his feather stature.

Whereas Chaney ranks in a league of domination on his own, one cannot underestimate Erik Loomis, a powerful amateur boxer that so far reverses Chaney’s attempts of basic heavyweight throws like a powerbomb and sidewalk slam all thanks to Erik’s vicious strikes deliberately testing Chaney’s chin. One Tigerplex and several back-fists later, Erik Loomis weakens Chaney bad enough to leave and assist Edison, who just springboard spinning heel kicked Wilkie into a corner, to wheelbarrow facebuster Wilkie as Edison double knee gutbusters Wilkie, too!

Ignoring the temporary adoration, Loomis returns to Chaney for settlement. Throwing his arms around Chaney, Loomis tries to deadweight lift but gets smashed with two bionic elbows! Breaking out of Loomis’s grasp, Chaney overloads with bionic elbows before pulling Erick inward to lift and deliver the punchline (package piledriver)!

Laid flat out, Loomis easily but unconsciously permits Allen Chaney to pin, but Edison acts hero by missile dropkicking Chaney’s backside! In retaliation, Chaney no-sold, hit Edison with bionic elbows thrice, and then forced Tony onto concrete face-first, thanks to a nifty and gorgeous double underhook facebuster (he didn’t plant Tony inside the ring, no, he lifted Tony as if he would go for a sit-out, but instead, Chaney released Edison after heading towards the ropes, where Edison fell forward as if frogsplashing the concrete)!!

Goofy as it may be, Wilkie’s headbutts switched to a theatric combination of punches ending in a parodied Maverick attack (running shotei) – CAUGHT! Maverick caught the foot, so in retaliation, Johnny ankle locks Wilkie without delay! Having reversed McNasty’s suplex attempt to a tornado DDT, Allen Chaney aids Maverick in a Total Elimination to Wilkie (Chaney executes a spinning leg sweep to the back of the Wilkie’s legs while Maverick executes a spinning heel-kick towards Alex simultaneously, knocking Wilkie backwards)! Jumping for the cover, Wilkie kicks out of Chaney’s pin attempt before the second count!

Fascinating as it was, Fine Wine’s elevated corkscrew neckbreaker followed by a lionsault from McNasty & (from the top turnbuckle) a diving leg drop from Wilkie in one fluid motion couldn’t keep Chaney down for a three count! Dealing punishment, Johnny Maverick brought about a reckoning of which neither ‘Fine Wine’ has dealt with before: springboard knee strike to the McNasty’s throat & double underhook suplexes Wilkie into a corner turnbuckle.

All sides having dished spectacular teamwork, its obvious no team is unfit to be Tag Championship contenders (though Maverick is already a tag champion). The fans appreciate this match, and despite all six either currently or had heat at one time, these fans chant ‘Thank You Kalis’! Well, until Edison accidentally cracked referee John Chellios in the face when Maverick dodged a leaping forearm smash! When Edison stood, realizing his error, Maverick clotheslines him from behind, taking them both over the top rope and onto the outside.

In the midst of the referee bump, Allen once more delivers the punchline, but this time to Alex Wilkie! At the same time, McNasty soars through the air for his Malicious Intent (shooting star press) on Loomis of the Uproars. Very unexpected, Simon Kalis runs down the ramp as he pulls a referee’s shirt down his neck! This cannot be good. Especially when in ring, Kalis stands between two men pinning two separate men, but Simon signals his intent by tapping his eye patch, grinning, before counting McNasty’s pin attempt! And so the victory goes to Fine Wine, leaving Allen with a huge “WTF” face, similar to the crowd’s collective enragement; running away lol’ing, Simon Kalis has screwed Allen worse than prison sex. Fine Wine couldn’t careless, and are, in fact, celebrating this win in style: Alex Wilkie bashes his fists together and then shoves four twinkies into his mouth while McNasty poses on the top turnbuckle.

Fake Empire IV

A good way to return from commercial break would be “Game of Thrones Main Title” singing Wrestling’s Undisputed down to ringside, which exactly happens. Prepared for their non-title bout against resident REBEL medium talent, Might & Magic, sporting all white attire, prepositions to their distil purpose in the tag division, the wealthy, healthy Mexican and sacrilegious yet sacred prophet of homeless folk arrive side-by-side, confidently indifferent. Tonight, a first in some time, fans appreciate the UX tag champions by singing the chorus of Queen’s “We Are the Champions” when the dynamic duo have settled in-ring and their theme music has gone silent.

Cesar Salazar: “It’s good to know people still remember who we are.”

Slick-haired Salazar says as he leans against a corner turnbuckle, with arms hung over the top ropes.

Deicide: “Because we’re hardly on camera?”

‘The Risen’ has centre stage, preferring to stand straightened and buffed.

Cesar Salazar: “Technically we are, if we manage to sneak ourselves into special guest commentator roles.”

Deicide: “Or request refereeing our competitor’s tag matches.”

Cesar Salazar: “Either way, we’ve previously acknowledged Simon’s bookings don’t often include us merely due to his terribly exhausted division, and also we’re novel commodities.”

Deicide: “So he got the pass for not constantly having us wear out filler bores like Golden Inferno, and, well, Might & Magic, because if we were to defeat those likes repetitively great, it’d be counterproductive in furthering our quest of conquer, wreck and rebuild grandiose. Subtract the vanguard and we’re left with ‘Fine Wine’ and ‘The KKK’, who’re unquestionably the only bodies capable of bridging our last act in stage one:”

Cesar Salazar: “Elevate these gemmed straps buttoned firmly around our waists into Main Event stature.”

Deicide: “But then last week, REBEL aired a teaser trailer advertising ‘Merry Time Massacre’ with us nowhere involved, without a single mention of the Tag Team unification match.”

Most of this back-and-forth looks as if they’re privately discussing outside at a table belonging to some café, occasionally oblivious to the thousands in attendance.

Cesar Salazar: “We took Simon’s tweak of billing us as the Disputed champions as a lighthearted poke, because otherwise it’s an indefensible stance. Yet this overt snub to recognize us is a knife-edge chop.”

Pushing his cowboy hat up a little to scratch his forehead, Deicide’s frown is noticeable only by his winkled brow, since the rest of his unidentifiable mug hides underneath a forest of beard.

Deicide: “Why, Simon? Don’t we provide this company with social relevance, shelter REBEL from phony standards, and ensure bundles of dough stay in its tummy, even double stuffing its swollen, pink-black pussy whenever she aches?”

Cesar Salazar: “We’ve treated REBEL better than any past boyfriends. Doesn’t seem unreasonable for her to pick up the pom-poms, slip on a skirt and ponytail her hair in our favor.”

Deicide: “Seriously, all we want is some oral support. Don’t paint a picture of us unzipped and limp. We’re bulging with erections, seeking to drop a load of greatness atop your savage face. Aren’t girls supposedly infatuated with pearly jewels?”

Cesar Salazar: “I’ve heard Anna Mathews goes nuts for shinnies, but unfortunately for her, she’ll need to wait till ‘Merry Time Massacre’ to receive her necklace. Plus Maverick apparently teeter-totters, so he might want one, too.”

Deicide: “Homosexuality is gradually becoming a widely accepted practice. Besides, we don’t discriminate, anyway.”

Cesar Salazar: “All somewhat unfunny sex puns aside, it suffices to say that REBEL is our slavish slut; hence why you and all these people call us Champions. And as your Champions, we demand that whenever you consider running another ad promoting anything associated with us, be certain to include us.”

In an exaggerated pose of fright, Deicide throws up his hands as if told to freeze by policemen.

Deicide: “Shouldn’t indicate a threat, now! We wouldn’t want to be grouped with fleeing, crybabies, pseudo-emerald and stone.”

Cesar Salazar: “Not at all, D. Nobody could have the impression we’d do anything to harm REBEL’s reputation since our work is toward enhancing its cruel premise. There are other ways of protesting, such as now, where we just devour airtime, chat about truths whilst cementing our presence.”

Deicide: “And we haven’t begun to disparage Phoenix’s minions yet. Is that a comment in itself?”

Cesar Salazar: “There’s all this talk of The Pantheon resurrecting, which is this big deal if rumors have merit, but none of this hype suggests Might & Magic are needed in Phoenix’s plan.”

A snap of Deicide’s fingers says he’s discovered the answer.

Deicide: “Therefore, they’re weaklings; meat added to a torso just for a heavier reflection.”

A nod escapes the clean-shaven Salazar.

Cesar Salazar: “Mere numbers to increase the delusion. Within this month, The Phoenix’s clutch on REBEL’s World Championship will perish once Sean Robinson locks Achilles, to cap his lightning-in-a-bottle momentum. For us to squeeze tears from the already battered Might & Magic can only heighten the ringing truth of our collective Undisputed nature.”

Deicide: “I’ve totally forgotten we’re also undefeated.”

Cesar Salazar: “When victory becomes mundane, that’s what happens. Back in UX, we divided and fired El Pollos, The Giants, Soviet Union, Commissar & HOLOKOST.”

Deicide: “Then we came here to bury ‘Golden Inferno’ like everyone who’s anyone does, disclose The Uproars as a lost cause-“

Cesar Salazar: “People once expected them to beat us for these titles.”

Deicide: “Again: lost cause. And now, Simon Kalis offers Might & Magic up to us almost as if another one of his bizarre cow sacrifices, except we’re tasked with slitting their throats.”

Cesar pats his thighs jokingly in search of something.

Cesar Salazar: “I didn’t bring utensils, what of you?”

Deicide: “Like a voodoo child, we’ll chop them down with the edges of our hands.”

With a smirk, Cesar says, “Might even raise a little sand.”

Deicide: “This match isn’t about winning just because, though. Like all that we say, think and do, if between the lines are read, our actions, most importantly, shape the foundation we plan to build the tag division on. Moke and Dragon, you two are simply faces to be shown in our highlight reels bleeding, screaming and spirits fading to get across just how massive we are.”

Cesar Salazar: “Since Simon Kalis got amateur promotional skills, we’ll treat you two as if this were pottery class, with the end product being two crippled vessels flying the message of our Undisputed.”

Deicide: “Crippled? They’d not get far, then.”

Cesar Salazar: “Metaphorically speaking.”

Having said that, the two drop their microphones, creating a loud staticy crash sound and “Game of Thrones Main Title” conjures as the broadcast sinks into a quick commercial interruption.

Non-Title Match

Wrestling’s Undisputed versus Might & Magic

Cool on the surface for their segment prior to this match, Wrestling’s Undisputed’s frustrations with how they’ve been marketed and booked are on full display now. Usually, Might & Magic are at least capable of bringing a lengthy competitive exchange, despite rolling on a loser streak. This week, however, only within the first minute of this tornado tag bout do Moke and Dragon deliver solid offense of punches.

Because of Deicide’s background in jujitsu, the Sacred caught a swinging arm from Moke and so judo thrown the bulky figure into an arm-bar leg-trapping takedown. Opposite to this, Dragon clotheslined Salazar over-the-top-rope, but he safely landed and immediately counteracted via jumping enzuigiri that smacks Dragon forward throat-first onto the top rope!

From there on out, the next three minutes see the (Un)disputed Tag Champs perform a variety of double team combos: held in an inverted DDT position, Dragon is blasted in his backside by a swung upright knee of Cesar Salazar, who releases the reversed headlock to shove Dragon into a jumping big boot by Deicide, yet Dragon does not collapse; only further dazed and stumbling backward, Salazar concludes Dragon’s round of punishment with a double knee backbreaker!

Doshky managed to catch Deicide off-guard with a one-handed bulldog. Though that sneakiness has a consequence, which is Salazar quickly pulling Moke backward by the neck for an inverted headlock backbreaker, which in turn allows Deicide to reemerge for a jawbreaker lariat! Once Moke is sent head-over-heels, The Dragon, who struggles to gather himself, is left to eat a European uppercut to the backside of his head (Deicide) and straightforward discus elbow to the face (Salazar) that promptly ends the match via pinfall by Cesar.

Again, like previous weeks, Paul Alba, the Undisputed Voice, is at ringside holding both tag championships for his boys, and is ecstatic when they win. So when they exit the ring, Paul Alba leads them atop the steel ramp and raises their hands, gloriously. Interestingly, Alba shouts to a cameraman next to these three UX legends and undoubtedly soon-to-be REBEL powerhouses, “Hey Johnny! Managing Chaney may be a better gig after all!”

Everyone Hates The Phoenix

“Welcome Home” by Coheed and Cambria starts to play as North Carolina’s least favorite wrestler walks to the ring. The crowd lets the REBEL Pro World champion know he’s not welcome, but he ignores them as he calmly climbs the steps to the ring and ducks through the ropes. He’s wearing his AOWF World title belt and carrying the REBEL Pro World title on his shoulder. As he gets to the middle of the ring, he drops the REBEL Pro belt on the mat.

The Phoenix: People have been talking, like they always do. And as is so often the case, the Phoenix has been the topic of conversation. Why hasn’t he been living up to his legend? Why has he been taking it easy in REBEL Pro? How have those scrubs been beating him every week?

The Phoenix: Those are interesting questions, to be sure. The fact is, the Phoenix just hasn’t been giving a damn about REBEL Pro. That’s not news, though, now is it? I’ve never given a damn about this company, not since it turned its back on me and was stolen from me. I’ve never wanted to wrestle here and I sure as hell don’t want to be your champion.

The crowd boos to let him know they agree with the last statement.

The Phoenix: I just didn’t have any choice in the matter. REBEL Pro was due a shot at the AOWF World title and as the champion, I had to defend my belt. It isn’t my fault nor was it my choice for the REBEL Pro World title to be on the line in that match. REBEL Pro managed to put one over on me. They know that it is my curse to put everything on the line to defend my titles. I just can’t help myself. So by tricking me into becoming their champion they were able to force the biggest star in the history of the AOWF to wrestle for them, to be the face of their fucking company.

The Phoenix: And since that day, what have I done? As little as possible. Why should I give REBEL Pro an ounce of effort when I clearly don’t want to be here in the first place? Why should I allow this pathetic excuse of a company to leech off my hard earned reputation? The answer, clearly, is that I shouldn’t. They haven’t earned it and they sure as shit don’t deserve it.

The Phoenix: So I come out and do the bare minimum that still allows me to honor my contract. I say a few words, as few as possible and I come out and do a couple moves and allow myself to be put on my back for three second. Then I rush back to my hotel and take the hottest shower possible to wash away the stink of this place. And the whole time I haven’t cared one bit. I know that the end is coming for the AOWF and I know that I’ll be the one to deliver the death blow. Plans are in motion and events have already started, nothing can stop them now. But the death I’m bringing is a cancer. It is slowly eating away and destroying from within. The keyword there was “slowly”. I’m the harbringer of total destruction, have no doubt about that. But it will be eventual destruction.

The Phoenix: In the meantime, I’ve got to suffer the barbs and insults of people that are so far beneath me they have to use a telescope just to see the treads of my shoes. I’ll admit that I’ve got a bit of an ego, however. And to hear these fucking peons questions me, to wonder if I’ve lost my skills, my abilities… Well, it has become too much to bear.

The Phoenix: I would have been content to let REBEL Pro enjoy this brief calm before the storm. To continue taking loss after loss to lull you into a false sense of security. That would have made your fall so much sweeter. But you just had to keep poking the sleeping giant. When that happens, you can’t be surprised that the giant is pissed when he wakes up.

The Phoenix: So you want the Phoenix you’ve heard so much about? You want the real Phoenix? The super Phoenix? I guess no one ever told you to be careful what you wish for, because it looks like you’re going to get it. I may have to team up with Anna Mathews this week, but even that space brain can’t hold me down now. I may not want to be your champion, but that’s not going to stop me from acting like it from now on.


We fade in to a place full of drama. I know that’s not much of a description seing as how any place filled with Kaliseseses has drama. But bear with me here. In the center of this room, PuppetSimon and his somewhat outdated spawn, PuppetMasa do their serious foreshadowing over a slice of cake. For those new to this neck of the woods, it’s “omg awesome!” But for those that’ve watch the real life counterparts nearly try to kill each other and come back together again, it starts sounding like Charlie Brown’s teacher.

PuppetSimon: Wah-wa-wah-wa-wah.

Like that.

PuppetMasa: Wa-wah-wa-wah-wahwa-wah!

And that. It doesn’t help that their invisible mouths were stuffed. They’ve been doing this literally since the Titanic sank. You can tell by the lifesaver wrapped around PuppetSimon. He doesn’t seem to mind it though. Why should he? Dude’s worn stanger shit.

PuppetSimon: *gulp!* Once again, you underestimate me, son. You underestimate my foresight. I know what war is. I can smell it from miles away.

PuppetMasa: *gulp!* And you think I can’t, old man? Have you forgotten how many times I’ve been in the trenches? That’s why I’m doing this! That’s why I have to get rid of the corrupt. Even you.

PumpkinDyce: Aye!

The Dyce puppet sits on the couch with a naked PuppetMaya giving him a blow job. Yes, it is possible. He’s also drunker than fuck after inhaling a thousand twelve packs of Grizzly Beer.

PumpkinDyce: We have to do what’s best, lads! That Elena minch couldn’t put a dent in me an’ neither will the rest o’ em. Give me yer Tee-Em-Bees and yer Scottie Snows and yer candy covered fish!

A gunshot rings out as a bullet strikes across his kneecap. His slut stops sucking for about five minutes, shrugs and keeps on keeping on. As the boyo whimpers, our camera pans back just in time to see a smoking gun being hidden.

PuppetSimon: Where were we?

PuppetMasa: The fuck?! He’s one of your students!

See that shrug? That’s the cue that he doesn’t really care. Besides, we were missing a cripple puppet. The prodigal son is furious as he jumps from his chair, cape and such fluttering in the breeze.
PuppetMasa: That’s it. No more games. I challenge you…

Dramatic extreme close up.

PuppetMasa: …to a Kalistic Slapfight!

Dun-dun-duuuun! The elder rises to his feet and lands a uberbrutal cheapshot. You can tell this because the soft hitting noise was, like, a tiny bit louder than what it’s supposed to be. The Adrian-thing that kinda is and kinda isn’t retaliates with quick strikes that actually look quite impressive for somebody stuffed with fluff. It quickly deteriorates into two puppets slapping the shit out of each other with barbed wire and fire and other manners of hand whipping fun. Meanwhile in 17th-century America, a wanna-be prophet slaps on his rose-colored glasses and proceeds to make up shit.

Joseph Smith: Mister Harris, you know I can’t do such a thing! This is God’s work.

He follows through with a stomp while his scribe pretty much stares at him like he’s nuts. Which he is really. Dude believes that two sparkling golden belts from the gawd-damned future are golden plates that recorded supernatural things that people long dead believed in. Yawn.

Martin Harris: Listen, if you’re not going to show me these imaginary gold plates you’re allegedly translating from, at least let me show the script to a few of my relatives.

Le sigh. How horrible. It took him a few years to get this endeavor off the ground and now, his impromptu secretary wants proof.

Joseph Smith: Fine, whatever. But don’t lose…

Didn’t even get to finish his sentence. The other guy runs away with all his papers to show off to his family and snicker about how much of a nutjob he is. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Remember the time you told people you efed and then explained it to them and they looked at you like you were crazy? Don’t tell me you’ve never had that moment. You’d be lying.

“Heh, heh. Sucker.”

Joseph Smith: What?

He whips around to see the Master of Time and Space in living color…sort of. She totally stole the toga from some Roman on her way over and the sandals have been torn to bits.

“Eye sayz yoor an idiot.”

Despite this clear insult, it doesn’t stop our former treasure hunter from bowing to her.
Joseph Smith: Ah, Moroni! Great to see you.

Eye roll. We don’t get to see snarky, frustrated, hope-you-die-in-a-fire Anna very often. But when she’s dealing with Justin-Case-with-a-wig type stupidity, it boils to the surface like lava.

“Four the fifteenth tyme, my name’s nawt Moroni. Und are you done wif my shinys yet?”

Joe-joe turns sheepish.

Joseph Smith: Well, not exactly…

She raises her hand up.

“Spare me. Aye kan tell already this ish gonna be a pain in the ass. Sew I’m gonna let joo bathe inn yoor own horribleness. But I’m gonna need mi titles bak soon. Iz important. Got et?”


Joseph Smith: Got it.

“Gud! Nao yif u’d excuse mii.”

A bright flash of light later and we’re right back where we were before. The Kalistic Slapfighting has turned into a slapfighting rumble. PuppetMasa slaps PuppetSimon whose slapping PumpkinDyce whose smacking PuppetMaya on the ass. It’s a hand to flesh orgy that resumes for no reason. The Dodo Queen teleports to the scene and headtilts.

“Um. Wat’cha dooing?”

And everything stops at once as they all turn towards her.

PuppetMasa: …nothin’.

Her eyes narrow. Those buttons that act as eyes stay wide. With a florish, the cake disappears.

“No cake for joo!”

Puppets: Awww.

Sadness everywhere. The Aggression champion sighs and puts on her best disappointed mother face.

“Cereal. Iz this et? It this all we’ve become?”

They still stare, clueless.

“Look at olive yoo. I’ve created ev’ry single won of you too do one simple solitary fing. I brought you life. I gave you moveable parts. Eye lets jou speek even when ya haz no plase to speak. And this ish what I get? A load of bitchin’ and fighting constantlee?”

All the felted heads hang low.

“No, no. I realize thar’s a lot awn my plate. I’m busy defending titles and tring ta git titles and preparing for this inevitable skewjob of a tag match tonight and starting up the Mormons dat eye kant’s bea around all the tyme. Ish my fault and I’m sowwy.”

Silence. What exactly can you say about something like that? Then slowly, one by one, the PuppetKaliseseses (and a limping PumpkinDyce) crowd around and hug her. It’s sweet and heartwarming and deserves a fucking award. They squeeze tight enough to where a lightbulb appears.

“I haz an idea. We’d hav ta get the rest ov ‘em together four it but—“

They look up at her.

“Wii need to do sumthing big.”

She grins to everybody as we fade the hell out.

All of The Lights

On any given night, the lights of the Vegas Strip turn the city into an oasis of mid-afternoon in the desert of midnight. On this particular night, however, the bulbs don’t burn quite so bright. The neons go cold and dark. Vegas Vic’s big smile seems a little smaller, and the rest of Glitter Gulch has lost some of its shine.

All of this can be attributed to one thing: Once again, the old UX Arena is dark and dead. REBEL has moved operations back to North Carolina, much to the chagrin of Vegas bookies and Durham police.

One man hasn’t given up on the place so easily, though. Sean Robinson stands outside the UX Arena, his back to the camera. He stares up at the large neon sign out front, gaudy even by local standards. HOME OF THE UNDERGROUND, it states. Not anymore.

“It’s almost like leaving home.”

He turns around and faces the camera. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, a reflection of the Strip’s constant illumination, but there’s almost a wet sheen in his eyes.

“Boston hasn’t been home for me in years, and the people here in Vegas are the only ones to appreciate me in a long time. Those hicks back in North Carolina certainly don’t, and I can’t figure out why. I’m trying to take the REBEL World Title away from a man who clearly wants nothing to do with the belt, or the company for that matter. I’m trying to bring back a standard of professional wrestling that hasn’t been seen in the Carolinas since the days of Rex Caliber, and all I get is a hail of boos every time I step into the ring.”

He turns and delivers a kick to a nearby trashcan, which goes flying off into the night, leaving a trail of garbage in its wake. A rare moment of rage from the usually calm Robinson. He takes a deep breath, rubs his temples, and composes himself before continuing.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not here to make friends. I’m not in this business for the adoration of children, or even for the ring rats, contrary to popular belief. I’m not here for the money that comes with being the merchandise cash cow. No, I’m here for one reason, and one reason only. To prove to the world that I’m the best wrestler in the game today. And the only way to do that is to take the REBEL World Title from Rob Robinson.

And this week I get a shot at him. Oh sure, it’s a tag team match. But I don’t have any worries about Anna Mathews. I’ve made her tap out once already. If she gets in my way, I’ll just do it again. And this time I won’t let go of the hold when she passes out.

This might be a non-title match, but you still better be ready, Rob. See, next week is the big night. And if you were to suffer a horrific injury tonight, say a blown-out knee or a broken arm… Well then you’d lose by default, wouldn’t you? I’m sure that would be embarassing for Kalis, and disappointing for the fans, but like I said. Their opinions don’t mean shit to me. Only one thing matters, and you’ve got it around your waist.

For now.”

Robinson walks out of the frame, and the camera zooms in until the UX Arena sign fills the frame. The letters on the sign flicker and die one by one, until the only thing left is UX and HOME. They persist as the scene fades to black.

Challengers versus Champions Tag Team Match

Justin Case & Sean Robinson versus Anna Mathews & The Phoenix

With everyone in the ring, the match began under normal REBEL Pro Tag team rules: that being of a tornado variety. Justin immediately gunned it for Anna while Robinson and Robinson grappled, putting the entire crowd on their feet. Case went for a clothesline on Anna, but she ducked and hit him with a spinning heel kick. Phoenix twisted Sean around and then laid him out with a DDT while Anna followed up her attack on Case with a Mandala hineri which really excited the crowd. Sean Robinson got back up quickly and grappled again with Phoenix, a power struggle ensuing between the two until Robinson got out of it before quickly taking Phoenix down with a german suplex. Anna tried getting at Case with her speed as her advantage but Case finally caught up to her and laid her out flat with a stunning fisherman’s suplex. Meanwhile Robinson of the Sean variety locked in an single leg crab on The Phoenix, yelling for The REBEL Champion to tap out. Case went nuts on Anna, pounding her face with lefts and rights while Anna tried to lift her arms up over her face to protect herself.

Anna kneed Case as Phoenix grabbed the bottom rope, although Sean did not let go of the hold. Referee Alan Stone informed Sean that no tap out from Phoenix will count with Phoenix’s grip on the bottom rope, although it didn’t matter as Phoenix used a last bit of strength to use his free leg to somehow kick Sean Robinson, forcing him to let go. Though stretching himself awkwardly like that did seem to have an adverse effect on The Phoenix’s lower back, while Anna laid Case down handspring back elbow as Case came at her. Rob-Rob recovered and tagged Robbo with a spinning neckbreaker, quickly going for the pin but Robbo kicked out by the 2 count.

Case powerslams Anna suddenly and the ring shakes, he covers her but he too only gets a two count. The Phoenix rushes at Case and spears him to the canvas and begins climbing the ropes. Robbo rushes to knock Rob-Rob off the top rope but Anna Mathews rolls Robbo up in a schoolboy pin. She only gets a two count but it gives The Phoenix ample time to hit The Ashes just as Justin Case was about to get up, putting The Legendary Legacary right back down. Susan Boyle attempted to jump into the thick of things only to have Anna shove Sean Robinson into her as The Phoenix covered Justin Case.


Anna throws herself on Robinson, taking them both down to the canvas.


Robinson shoves Anna off of himself.


The Phoenix quickly rolls out of the ring and raises his own arms, with Sean Robinson leaning over the ropes and pointing at him livid. Anna Mathews somehow ends up with a paper plate and a slice of cake in her hand as she walks off, her two belts over her shoulder. The Phoenix grabs his two belts, and Anna offers Phoenix a bite but The Phoenix scoffs and snubs her as he leaves, ignoring her, the fans and especially Sean Robinson. Case sits up, looking out toward Anna who smiles and waves with a fork and cake in her hand as we fade.


Mike Majere defeats C-Luke and Jeremy Gold
Jaice Wilds defeats Bobby Lee
The Toughest Bastards defeat Golden Inferno
Fine Wine defeats The Uproars and Allen Chaney
Wrestling’s Undisputed defeats Might & Magic
Anna Mathews & The Phoenix defeat Justin Case & Sean Robinson

Aggression 11-26-2012

There Are Always Two.

“Seven Devils” by Florence and The Machines begins to play.

Jenny Jersey: Introducing! Accompanied to the ring by Lacey Gloria!

The crowd cheers as the lights go out in the arena.

Jenny Jersey: He is the AoWF Television Champion, ADRIAN KALIS!

Seven devils all around you!
Seven devils in my house!
See they were there when I woke up this morning!
And I’ll be dead before the day is done!

The entrance explodes with fireworks. Suddenly, walls of flames gush up from the left side of the entrance ramp. A platform begins to raise.

Seven devils all around you!
Seven devils in YOUR house!
See I was dead when I woke up this morning…
And I’ll be dead before the day is done!

The flames circle Adrian and Lacey, who is in Adrian’s arms, holding herself close to him. The crowd jumps to their feet, cheers echoing through the arena. Adrian and Lacey share a passionate kiss in the midst of the flames, and then she slides herself behind him as Adrian steps forward through the flames, lifting his face mask back up. Fireworks pop off all along the entrance ramp beside him, with every three steps he takes. The flames dissipate and Lacey quickly follows Adrian, right behind him smirking. Adrian stops at the ring, looking up into the ring.

They can keep me alive!
‘Till I tear the walls!
‘Till I slave your hearts!
And they take your souls!

Adrian circles the ring, before jumping up on the ring apron and entering.

And what have we done?!
Can it be undone?!
In the evils heart!
In the evils soul!

Adrian lifts up the AoWF Television title with both hands as flames shoot from the four corners of the ring, and the arena is lit by pure fire.

Seven devils all around you!
Seven devils in YOUR house!
See I was dead when I woke up this morning…
And I’ll be dead before the day is done!

Adrian places the belt over his left shoulder, and gets the microphone in his other hand from Jenny. Lacey waves to the fans, as all the orange flags raise up in the arena.

Before the day… is.. Done.

Adrian Kalis: LAS VEGAS!!!!!

The crowd cheers, of course they would.

Adrian Kalis: The last of my blood to finally stand before all of you here in the Underground Arena. It’s good to finally make your acquaintance.

Adrian looks around the crowd and nods respectfully.

Adrian Kalis: Do you see that, folks?

Adrian points to the REBELTron, which is flanked at either side by large black and red Order of Chaos banners.

Adrian Kalis: Most of you may not understand the significance of that, but those flags are there as a constant reminder to all in REBEL Pro and all those across the Alliance of Wrestling Federations as to who it is who is in control of REBEL Pro. A battle which resulted in the effective termination of a dozen individuals, great names and wrestlers who fell to the sword.

Adrian taps his chest.

Adrian Kalis: My sword. Yet! In my zealous pursuit of absolute victory in the first half of this year, I found myself left out in the cold. Underappreciated, unsung for the great work I had done and swept aside by the companies I had done it for. I became an outcast, a nomad. A champion of this community without a home.

Adrian adjusts the AoWF Television Championship on his shoulder.

Adrian Kalis: Fast forward to today and I am the most successful wrestler on the TGW roster, yet with TGW in unknown waters what am I left with?


Adrian shakes his head.

Adrian Kalis: Not in how you think, folks. You see I am returning to REBEL Pro. My old man has given me full control over the show this week, to do as I please. It isn’t the first time I’ve been the one calling shots in REBEL Pro, and I don’t plan to let it be the last. You see, this compromise that sees me standing here in front of all you tonight is a direct result of the actions I took last week. My old man understands why I did it, but I know him. It wasn’t the first time he placed himself in a title match in REBEL Pro, and I know it won’t be the last.

Larry Gordon: Where is the kid going with all of this?

Linzi Martin: Beats me, Larry. Maybe he’s going to set some clause preventing Simon from competing in REBEL Pro again.

Adrian looks to Lacey, who leans back against the ropes and winks.

Adrian Kalis: Mmhmm. Yes. So. I am booking a match. Except this match won’t be for tonight. This match has been over twenty years in the making, when you really think about it. As Simon Kalis will face me, Adrian Kalis at Merry Time Massacre!

The crowd erupts into full blown chorus of cheers and camera flashes blind the ringside area for a moment.

Larry Gordon: Did he really just do that?

Adrian Kalis: This is what the orange revolution is all about, ladies and gentlemen. To root out the corrupt and unworthy, no matter who they are and what position they are in. And so at Merry Time Massacre, Simon and I will battle for the title of President of REBEL Pro. His title.


Linzi Martin: Well shit, we may have a new boss Larry!

Larry Gordon: Speak for yourself, I still own 49% of REBEL Pro.

Adrian waits a moment for the crowd to calm down before raising the AoWF Television Championship.

Adrian Kalis: And I will put my AoWF Television title on the line as well.

Larry Gordon: Oh my!

Adrian Kalis: And before you think that’s all? Merry Time Massacre will be taking place at the Olympic Stadium in Montreal, Quebec- the largest building in all Canada for us to fight in. With enough seating

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for over 75,000 people! It will be the largest event in the history of REBEL Pro, and on that stage I will take this company back and let the actual REBEL stars fight rather than Rob Robinson and Mark Sommers wannabes acting like this is the fucking PWA.


Linzi Martin: He just went there. Ouch.

Adrian straps the AoWF Television title back around his waist.

Adrian Kalis: And the most important part of all? This will be a match that was never allowed in the Pioneer Wrestling Association when my old man and my uncle sought to do it. But here? In REBEL Pro? Anything goes, and we will see the birth of the Kalistic Death Match. Wait until you see this match from hell. Until then? Wave your orange flags, folks. And never forgot! ALL HAIL!


“Seven Devils” hits again as Adrian drops the microphone and sits on the middle rope for Lacey to exit the ring first. He follows her and they both make their way back up the entrance ramp, slapping the hands of fans as they pass by.

Linzi Martin: What the hell just happened? That was mind blowing announcement after mind blowing announcement.

Larry Gordon: The Kalistic Death Match…

Linzi Martin: What? You know what that is?

Larry Gordon: Yes, I do Linzi. And suffice it to say, one of them will likely lose their career if not their life. Hell, if not both of them.

Linzi Martin: …And Aggression has only just begun.

Basketball Diaries Starring Bobby Lee

Bobby Lee:
“Oooh, my Head!”

Bobby Lee is sitting in his recliner, shaking violently and pressing both hands into his temples. We notice this first, then the fact that he is but ass naked with a bag of ice thankfully covering his testicles.

“Umvne theehe, coowvnet, ggghhhelsing.”

He’s still shaking, probably going through withdrawals.


He gigles, but winces from the pain in his head, there are still track marks showing all over his body.

“Mowvyay.”‘He’s possibly asleep, but highly doubtful.

“Heemsn doowavllegyiuas.”

He pukes.



3:17 P.M. Two days before Misgivings.
Popular Fast Food Restaurant.
Overland Park, KS.
Footage sent in by a fan.

Allen: Hello, sir. Welcome to [REDACTED], How may I help you?

???: Hey! You’re Allen Chaney! Weren’t you AOWF World Champion?

Allens eye twitches and we see a quick glimmer of Allen as a part of A-Squared bringing a steel chair down on several peoples heads. Back to ‘reality’.

Allen: Yeah…Yeah I was.

???: Yeah! Hey, and you used to date Jen Corlen, too! Man, why did you ever break up with her.

Another eye twitch and a glimmer, this time of Allen winning the AOWF world title.

Allen: I…I don’t…

???: Imagine, if you hadn’t of dumped her she might not have been in that car accident and ended up paralyzed.

Another eye twitch and we see Allen unleash brutality on Reece Paxton, Willie Williams, and several other members of the UX staff with a barbed-wire wrapped toy lightsaber.

???: Well anyway, I’ll have a [REDACTED], and a large [REDACTED].

Allen: Your….your total will be 3.58…. Here’s your receipt…

???: Hey, can I get a pic…

Allen: No.

The man walks off in a huff and probably tweets about what a dick Allen Chaney is. Another customer comes up and Allen thinks he is having a flasback again until said possible flashback smacks him hard across the face and yanks him over the counter he’s standing behind. It’s Johnny Maverick, voted ‘Wrestlings Worst Role Model’ for a second year in a row.

Allen: Johnny? What the hell are you…

Johnny: Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Johnny takes an envelope out of his pocket and slaps it against Allens chest.

Johnny: If you waste this, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life.

Johnny takes someones milkshake and leaves. Allen opens the envelope to see a front row ticket for Misgivings. He looks at it for a moment before he looks around at all of the people staring at him. All eyes on him, like it used to be. He smirks. He stands up and takes off his [REDACTED] Shirt and hat and tosses them in the garbage. He turns to ??? and flips him the bird before walking out the door whistling ‘Take this job and shove it’.


We find Allen backstage standing in front of a a REBL Pro sign. He’s definitely lost some weight and put on some muscle since we saw him last.

“A Jolly fat man in red WILL be here for the Holiday season, but he’s decided to forego the usual gifts you’d expect and instead is going to be the Oprah of Bionic Elbows.”

We cut to Allens match last week as he levels each of his opponents with ‘The Set-Up’. We hear his audio this time as he states “YOU get a bionic elbow. YOU get a bionic elbow. EVERYBODY GETS A BIONIC ELBOW!”

“I’ve lost a few things since I’ve last been in an AOWF ring. I’ve lost the RXW tag title. I mean, I never actually lost it in a MATCH I just misplaced it after a night of heavy drinking. I’ve lost a shirt sixe, which is pretty nice, and I’ve also lost any sense of giving a fuck about who I have to hurt to get what I want, as seen last week at Misgivings. Ask me how many fucks I give about what manner of hell Simon Kalis has planned for me?”

Allen pauses, as if waiting to be asked.

“None. None is the amount of fucks I give about who Simon puts in my path. I hold no illusion of Simon and I having ‘buried the hatchet’ after all that happened between us in UX. Marina and I beat his ‘Golden boy’ who disappointed the ever-loving shit out of him and his daughter. Johnathan Cage and Maya Kalis? No match for a Porn Star and a Comedian. Do your worst, Si. I welcome it with open arms. I want you to place impossible task after impossible task in front of me and I want to see the look on your face as I plow right through them. For once the only one who is going to be laughing is the Comedian.”

Allen chuckles a little bit.

“That’s the difference between my other job and this one. At the other job I am all about entertaining people. This job? is all about entertaining me. So what does a Comedian do for fun? What tickles my funny bone? Kicking ass like a mad bastard, Bringing a flaming folding chair down on the head of someone who minutes before was questioning my credibility or the fire in my gut, or giving someone the Punchline of ther lives. It’d also be nice to attract the attention of a pretty lady, but I take these things one step at a time.”

Allen cracks his neck.

“So, I drew a handicap match? Never been in one of those, but apparently I’m supposed to be worried about your tweaker underlings. Gasp. Look at all of the worry in my face. I am so worried.”

Allen has no expression on his face at all.

“This is going to be a massacre. I am going to take these two from pillar to post and gice this audience a show of powerthey won’t forget. Every single one of them will be in the palm of my hand before I nail them hard with the finish. That’s just how a comedian does things, guys.”

Allen gives two thumbs up.


With a flourish, the thumbs transition to a pair of middle fingers.


Allen smirks devilishly before heading offscreen.

Welcome To REBEL Pro- Handicap Match!

Allen Chaney versus Jeremy Gold and Bobby Lee

Seven minutes were spent toying with poor Bobby and shitty Jeremy, but Allen needed something to do this week. And so a big damn clothesline sent Jeremy head over heels, landing on his unlucky neck, and then Allen approached a horrified into a quivering jam, Bobby Lee, to unload a flurry of elbows, in vein of a certain 80s American dream. As result, Bobby’s forehead split open and gave Allen blood to offer as a visual treat for these enthralled fans. Another storm of bionic elbows overwhelmed Jeremy Gold because fuck else does Allen need to prove?

A snap suplex puts Jeremy out of commission, and Bobby gets a leftover of scoop slam into inverted DDT. Standing leg drop quickly follows, but Allen doesn’t lateral press. Instead, the funnyman lifts Bobby off the canvas into a military press and walks to all four separate sides teasing a throw into the crowd! Deciding on the section of tonight’s crowd where a camera is conveniently placed far back in the arena to record ringside, which is the entranceway’s right and announcer’s left, Allen throws Bobby so far, he lands in the fourth row! However, that was due to the momentum Allen gained by running across the ring. Not waiting for fans to settle their markage, Allen’s punchline (package piledriver) predictably lays Jeremy outward for the three.

High Five!

Tony Edison and Erik Loomis are seen preparing for their match tonight against Fine Wine.

Loomis: You gonna choke again like you did last week?

Edison: What the fuck are you talking about?

Loomis: It’s clear, isn’t it? I’ve been carrying you since UX was purchased. It’s like since its no longer under the UX label, you don’t care anymore or some shit.

Edison: Don’t you dare question my love of this sport. I’m the one who brought you in here, and I can take you right back out if I want to. Now are we going to go out there and win this tonight, or are you gonna keep going on about this crap?

Loomis: I don’t know, maybe we aren’t meant to–

Edison: Don’t you dare say we aren’t meant to team. We are the best team in this place, dammit. We’re going to go out to this hole, and show these fans what they paid to see. We’re going to climb that ladder, and retrieve that case!

Loomis: Then we’re gonna be the tag team champions?

Edison: No, but we’re going to be rich. It’s a briefcase full of money, dude, do you not read the memos we get?

Loomis: That works too. How much is it?

Edison: I’d imagine its however much cash Kalis could stuff into a briefcase that size. Because he’s awesome like that, apparently.

Loomis: And our opponents?

Edison: Fine Wine. Stupid name.

Loomis: Who are they?

Edison: I don’t know, but we’re going to go out there and find out. You ready to smash some grapes?

Loomis gives him a nod.

Edison: Good, me too. Now lets go do it!

The two high five, resembling an awkward cartoon friendship moment as we cut.


This day, we start anew. A new mixed breed era in wrestling’s advanced showcased talents. I am the solo founder from the ground up of the N.B.W.F New Breed of Wrestler Foundation. You want action come see, Luke. You need packed go See, Luke. You crave never before witnessed watch to see, Luke. Not only is that the name, husbands and boyfriends beware she might wear it out. But that’s a first impression trademarked statement. From momma white daddy black best of both worlds VINTAGE C-Luke!

Fine Wine

Filmed Earlier:

We open inside a very nice looking restaurant. We have a close up of a wine glass being held up. In a few seconds, red liquid begins filling the glass. We zoom out to see a man in a suit holding the glass up as a waiter tells him about the history of that particular pinot noir. We pan across the room to see multiple tables where this is going on, and some where people are spitting into buckets in the middle of the table. Finally, we end at a small table off in the corner of the restaurant. Sitting there are none other than Rebel Pro rookie allumini, Alex Wilkie and Mark McNasty. McNasty is wearing an overdone tux ala dumb and dumber as it is a light blue with a ton of ruffles. Meanwhile, Wilkie is wearing black sweat pants and a t-shirt that looks like a tux shirt. McNasty is toasting to anything he can think of, and thus thrusting his full wine glass in the air multiple times in quick succession. Wilkie is kind of swimming though as his head swings in full circles, trying to stare at his glass which he is holding.


On one of these toasts, he knocks the bucket in the center of the table over. It’s empty…like you didn’t see that coming.


Wilkie: HERE HERE!

The two goes to toast their glasses, but Wilkie over shoots and face plants on the floor, and McNasty loses his balance and falls backwards in his chair. As he goes back, one leg catches the table and pulls it over with them. We pan to outside where after a few seconds, McNasty and Wilkie are thrown. They pop to their feet, and dust themselves off.

Wilkie: Mark!

McNasty: What Wilkie?

Wilkie: Give me your keys…you’re drunk.

McNasty: Oh…good thinking.

They walk off screen. We now pan to the back of the arena, where we find McNasty and Wilkie sitting on a bench.

McNasty: I know a lot of UX guys don’t know me. Some of them may have seen Wilkie right before the place closed, but they probably never even heard of Grade A Nastyness.

Wilkie speaks in a quasi-sarcastic tone.

Wilkie: But Mark, why ever would you bring this up, when just a few weeks ago you said G-A-N was done?

McNasty: Because Wilkie, earlier this year, when G-A-N came back, people thought we were already done. One tag match later, we were Rebel Pro Tag champs. All I want to convey to these UX boys, is that they better not pull the same bit where they think we are just some crum bums coming out of nowhere thinking we can dominate the tag division. We have experience. We’ve worked together for years. And we beat the hell out of each other over a few belts before that.

Wilkie: I still don’t have all the feeling back right here.

Wilkie presses his finger into a random spot on his arm. McNasty shakes his head as he makes a few *tisk* sounds.

McNasty: Such a tragedy. So, you can understand that you do not have an easy night in for you. Instead, you have two men with four world title reigns between them, looking to waste as little of their precious time as possible while beating you two. Some would say we’re looking to make ourselves over you. Some would say we’re looking to use you to propel this new group of Fine Wine up the ranks. I say, those people are tards.

Wilkie: Binge drinking Tara Reid level tards.

McNasty: Because boys, at the end of the day, Wilkie and myself have already been made. We’ve done everything that can be done in so many feds it isn’t even funny. You know those guys who work their whole life at an awesome job, retire, and then get some shit job just so they aren’t bored? That’s kinda like this. Because you saw the reaction we got just from showing up together in that Rebel Pro ring a few weeks ago. We don’t have to prove anything. Win, lose, draw, people are still going to know who we are. They are still going to love us. And, they are still going to know that it is a bad idea to take Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie likely. We’ve been declared underdogs plenty of times. And just like messing with real dogs, the people who did got a bite in their ass.

Wilkie: So fellahs, what my long winded friend here is saying, is simply this: as we have already compared ourselves to fine wine, remember that too much of it can lead to a hell of a lot of pain when you have to deal with the hang over the next day.

Wilkie and McNasty smile, before they stand and walk off.

Ladder Match for $100,000 Cash

Fine Wine versus The Uproars

Wrestling’s Undisputed, Deicide & Cesar Salazar, the (Un)disputed Tag Team Champions, join Linzi Martin & Larry Gordon for special guest commentary.

Although a fourteen minute match stipulated under ‘ladder’ rules, this match was relatively conventional. Spots you’d expect from such a showcase, such as Mark McNasty jumping from a top turnbuckle to dropkick a ladder supporting Tony Edison, thus sending him to the outside, but not farther than the barricade. Yes, viewers watched Erik Loomis release powerbomb Alex Wilkie onto a ladder sat on the edge of the apron while the other end rests atop the barricade across, also held steady by a fan, at Erik’s request. Another huge bump came when Erik snuck beneath a climbing McNasty and uppercuts Mark’s groin to halt him, therefore an electric chair were made possible, but Erik waited for Edison to leap off a nearby turnbuckle to missile dropkick McNasty off Loomis’ shoulders! Result being McNasty flew to the outside, tumbling along the ramp at an alarming rate.

Deicide: “If Simon booked us in this match, we’d make it a five star. Not this same-old.”

Cesar Salazar: “These guys aren’t world-class like us, is why.”

The game-changer was a fireman carry stunner by Wilkie to Edison off the very top of the ladder both just finished having a back-and-forth battle of rights, which Wilkie clearly won. The stunner was enough to finish Edison for the rest of the match, to no one’s surprise. While the whole world continued to mark, Wilkie had trouble standing afterward, likely due to his unfit physique and the fact he just fell fifteen feet off the top of a ladder to bring another man down with him. In the end, with only Loomis and McNasty left to retrieve the briefcase, the pair wrestled around for three minutes, as if this were a regular contest. Loomis relied on his boxing background, tapping into a combination of swings you could visualize yourself button-mashing a game controller to achieve. McNasty would eat several crucial shots to the ribcage that nearly kept him down long enough for Loomis to setup a ladder and climb midway, but eventually, McNasty found power to stand and return an uppercut to Loomis’s groin!

Cesar Salazar: “Did you ever low-blow someone in a match?”

Deicide: “Nope.”

Cesar Salazar: “Neither have I.”

Deicide: “Because we’re not unimaginative fucks dirtier than a Guerrero.”

Cesar Salazar: “Guerrero is very famous and beloved in my country.”

Deicide: “He was a great wrestler, yet still halfway.”

Linzi Martin: “In comparison to?”

Larry Gordon: “Them, obviously.”

Deicide: “Correctomundo.”

The final important bump of this match is a full nelson bomb, which McNasty used to force Loomis backward off the tenth rung and into the canvas, harshly. Then, McNasty climbed, unhooked and proudly raised the briefcase full of a total one hundred thousand dollars, to symbolize ‘Fine Wine’s first victory.

Deicide: “That’s likely the most money he’s ever had at once.”

Cesar Salazar: “A working class hero is something to be?”

Deicide: “So they can feast on pork ‘n’ beans, like fat, filthy clones of mongo.”

Hardcore Drinkin’

The Collingwood Football Club theme song hits the Underground Arenas speakers and the crowd comes to life. The REBEL fans seem to be starting to take a real liking to the angry little cunt that is Macca, not to mention the old UX fans that are currently living it up in their old stomping grounds. Macca makes his way out from the back and begins to march his way down to ringside. Stopping only for a moment to grab a six pack off of a fan, Macca grabs a mic before rolling under the bottom rope into the ring. Tearing one of the bottle out of the plastic, Macca pops the lid off of the bottle and takes a swig before lifting the mic to his mouth.

Macca: REBEL hasn’t exactly been kind to me since I made my debut all those weeks ago. I don’t know if it’s because I’m not seen as marketable or it’s just that people don’t like me. Either way it’s starting to get old. One man in particular I thought that I had developed an understanding of mutual respect with was a man who has just recently earned himself a two percent holding of this company and regained his name, Bubba J.

The crowd pop and as they rightly should!

After our first match he came out and congratulated me like a fucking gentleman and said he would like to have a rematch sometime, something that I would have been more than happy to do. Last week however he decided to come out and run his fucking mouth. Is having a name back and owning a bees dick worth of REBEL somehow now make you a big shot or something J? Well luckily for the fans and possibly unluckily for you Bubs, there has never been a time that I have not responded to someone calling me out!

Macca takes another drink from bottle as the crowd begins a duelling chant of ‘Let’s go Macca’ and ‘Bubba J’.

So the ball is in your court now mate. You called me out and here I am. We can either have a chat and discuss this like men over a few coldies-

Macca lifts up the now one lighter six pack of stubbies.

– or you can end up on the ground in a pool of your own blood from a smashed bottle over the skull! So tell me J, what’s it going to be?

The crowd waits, Macca waits, nothing.

“Fuck you.”

This comes from the speakers, but its quickly followed by “Badass” by Saliva as Bubba J, the Ragin’ Redneck himself, comes from the back already holding a microphone and a six pack of Amberbock.

Bubba J:
“You finally decide to come down and answer the summons, like a man.”

He looks around as the UX fans boo loudly, Bubba J only smiles.

Bubba J:
“You come out here with your beer, you try to be like me…”

He steps through the ropes.

Bubba J:
“You think you are some hot shot fucker… but you seem to be doing the same damn thing I did, do, and will always be.”

He looks down at the 5 pack that Macca is now holding.

Bubba J:
“You bring shit beer to your little confrontation… doubt those bottles are even glass.”

J lifts one of his Amberbocks up, placing the carton down on the canvas.

Bubba J:
“Now, this is a beer. This is a real glass bottle. This is a real hard core sombitch that don’t give a shit.”

He laughs right in Macca’s face.

Bubba J:
“But you wanted to sort of call me out on calling you out.”

He chugs some Bock.

Bubba J:
“Don’t say a damn word yet, I’m not finished.”

Another chug.

Bubba J:
“See, then you talk about my dick, like it’s something you’d like to have.”

He laughs as he shakes his head.

Bubba J:
“I’m not strutting around here like I’m some big shot, I’ve just got an… Ace in the Hole” so to speak, something I can use if all else fails. I can strut, I can walk normal, I can win matches, I can lose matches.”

Bubba J tosses the rest back before getting right up in Macca’s face and holding the bottle like a weapon.

Bubba J:
“And I can kick anyone’s ass that gets in my way. Understand that Macca, win or fucking lose, I’m still one of the toughest if not the toughest sumbitches in this arena… your old stomping ground.”

He laughs.

Bubba J:
“I’ll piss on this damn arena, then wipe the drips off my dick right across ya’ll’s precious name. I don’t give a fuck because that is who I am. Give me a beer, give me two beers, give me three beers.. it don’t fucking matter. But what I take exception to is someone coming out here like they know me, thinking they are better than me, thinking they are on the top of the ladder and disrespecting my company… the very fucking company that I helped build up from an indy fed that only ran two to three shows a month.”

A feral grin makes its way onto Macca’s face as he stays right up in Bubba J’s face. There is no give in either of these two men.

I bet once upon a time your fairy tale was true Bubs. You where once the biggest dog in this yard, king of your domain as it where. But guess what? You didn’t know it at the time but you where always keeping that throne warm for the true king, and he has just fucking arrived. And you can get that piss out of my fucking face.

Macca slaps the bottle out of Bubba J’s hand and it flies out of the ring. Oh shit I think it almost hit a kid!

If I wanted something that was as weak as that piss your drinking then I would have a glass of water.

BOOOOOOO! Oh shit Mac don’t turn the fucking American crowd against you!

As for your taking the company from nothing to the top, that’s nothing new for me. I did the same for UX before Salvatore flushed it down the shitter. Everyone was billed as being better than me. Kai Cooper. Gone. Larry Fields. Gone. Mainerishi. Gone. Cesar Salazar. I beat his holiness of wrestling three times in the span of a month. And Sean Robinson? To quote JC himself FUCK YOU SEAN ROBINSON! I don’t think I am better than you Bubba, I know I am better than everyone! And if you want to prove otherwise-

Macca takes a step back out of Bubba J’s face and upturns what remains of his beer bottle onto the middle of the ring before taking one more step back.

– here is your line in the sand. Stop me from crossing it J. Stop me from coming in here and becoming the best thing REBEL has ever seen. Go on, make a point! Before you do anything stupid though just remember what happened a month ago when this cunt got you for three!

This crowd is going nuts and these two men look like they may try and break each other at any second now! Bubba J smirks, then removes another beer out of his remaining five. Cracking the top, he continues to smirk then takes a chug before lighting up a cigarette.

Bubba J:
“King huh? Is that really what you think?”

He spits across Macca’s line.

Bubba J:
“Kings die, new kings are reborn, but the lineage is typically the same.”

He looks Macca up and down, then nods as he takes a drag.

Bubba J:
“And you ain’t from my loins, you ain’t my relation.”

Drag, then slow exhale.

Bubba J:
“You beat me… whoop de fucking do son, a lot of people have beaten me, but none have ever broke me. You can’t, you ain’t, and well…”

A smile.

Bubba J:
“It was fucking fun in that match, like I said most fun in a long time.”

He walks over to the spilled beer line, pouring his own on as well, never taking his eyes off Macca.

Bubba J:
“That’s why we ain’t from the same line, but we are two of the toughest bastards to ever step into a ring.”

He indicates the crowd, and the little kid that was hit by the bottle, he sneakily tries to get some drops out of the bottle.

Bubba J:
“That’s why some boo.”

Of course that part boos.

Bubba J:
“Some cheer”

They do cheer.

Bubba J:
“Some just pick their gawd damn nose.”

We don’t wanna know.

He looks down at the now empty beer bottle, tossing it… yup, it hits an elderly lady right in the nose, busting it at the very least; J doesn’t care and neither does Macca.

Bubba J:
“You poured a line in the sand so to speak. I added mine to it.”

He steps in the puddle, Macca follows; both grin.

Bubba J:
“And that’s why we are the tag team known as the Toughest Bastards!”

They both grab a beer bottle, then clink before chugging them both down.

Bubba J:
“Beer drinkin’!”

Hell Raisin’!

They both smirk.

“And ass kickin’”

Saliva’s ‘Badass’ hits the PA once more as the newly formed Toughest Bastards continue to celebrate in the ring.

Larry Gordon:
God damn it! I thought Macca was going to kick that drunkards head in! What a crock of shit!

Linzi Martin:
Well like it or not Larry, these two men seem to now be on the same page and considering what they are both able to do as singles wrestlers they may just take this tag division by storm. Only time will tell on that one though.

Larry Gordon:

Bubba and Macca start to take their party up the ramp and out to the back. The fans cheer them out as we fade to……


We fade backstage where Sean Robinson is just about ready for his match tonight.

“From the flames comes rebirth. That’s the story of the phoenix. The mythical bird that immolates itself at the end of its life cycle, then is reborn anew from the ashes of its own death.

My life here in REBEL has felt like that at times. I started my professional career here, before moving on to bigger and better things in UX. That’s where I made my name. I became Uncensored champion, then I became Undipsuted. Then I redefined what the word Undisputed meant. And then Mainerishi shoved my face into the flames. My career and my life, nearly extinguished in that moment. When I woke up, I couldn’t believe I was alive. My first thought after that, though, was ‘When can I get back in the ring?’ I wanted it. I needed it. This business is my life. Breathing and wrestling are on equal footing in my list of priorities.

So now comes my rebirth. From the ashes of my title reign, my UX career, and the Underground Arena. Here I am, back where it all began, and back on top of it all. On December 17th, in Montreal, seventy-five thousand screaming fans will watch me decimate the so-called Phoenix. But tonight, in these friendly confines, I get to roast Jonathan Cage. It all comes full circle, now.”

We fade to ringside…

Face The Fire Inferno Match

Sean Robinson versus Jonathan Cage

Wrestling’s Undisputed, Deicide & Cesar Salazar, the (Un)disputed Tag Team Champions, join Linzi Martin & Larry Gordon for special guest commentary.

Cage’s entrance wasn’t aired due to him being a big jobber, as of late. So he came out during commercial break, so viewers at home needn’t feel their time was wasted. Robinson, the guy who’s recently beaten blood out of Bubba J, tears out of Anna Mathews and the piss out of Jeremy Gold, on the other hand, got everyone’s attention the second “Amazing (heartbeats remix)” kicked in. Alongside Robbo is Paul Alba, the manager of Wrestling’s Undisputed, who comes out holding a sign which reads, “Wrestling’s Undisputed = truer Pantheon” in spite of Robbo’s ‘Merry Time Massacre’ opponent, The Phoenix.

Deicide: “You fought Cage to become UX’s first Undisputed Champion, right, Cees?”

Cesar Salazar: “I did. It was easy.”

Many technical wrestlers boast knowledge of and threaten to twist a person like a pretzel, but Robinson legitimizes his claim by means of a tilt-a-whirl headscissors takedown transitioned into a single arm DDT floated over into a fujiwara armbar! An over rotated step-over toe-hold sleeper and a seated over-the-shoulder single-leg Boston crab were done just because he could. Effortlessly, Robbo’s hat trick of seven back-to-back tiger suplexes humbled Cage to the point of unconsciousness. From there, Robbo dragged Cage by his hair toward the flames generated by machinery on all four corners of the apron. Similar to Robinson’s own stare into the flaming abyss back at Blacklist 40, Cage sits on his knees, dazedly. During this, Robinson runs across the ring and rebounds to dropkick the back of Cage’s head, sending the bastard flying through the ropes and past the flames! However, Cage’s lengthy, greasy hair caught fire!

Almost on cue, Paul Alba tosses black shades into the ring, which Robbo catches and then puts on.

Sean Robinson: “You’re fired.”


The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” suddenly becomes Sean Robinson’s outro song. Alba, Robbo, Deicide and Salazar regroup at the ramp as Wrestling’s Undisputed; the tag belts raised by the undisputed tag champs, and Alba motioning for the world championship around Robbo’s waist.

The Legendary Legacary and Friends!

The beginning to “All of the lights” by Kanye West sounds up as out steps none other than “The Chosen One” Justin Case. Proceeding by his side is his pony tailed plus sized manager, The Wiz.

But right away we notice something very different.

Linzi Martin: Now what is this?! Who is that hanging off the arm of Justin Case?! He’s not even scheduled to be out here!

Larry Gordon: Maybe if you calm down we will get some answers.

And there it is. Susan Boyle hanging off the arm of “The Chosen One” as Legendary Legacary makes his talented way to the REBEL PRO squared circle.

Mic in hand.

Case jumps up on the apron and opens the ropes for Susan Boyle as she enters the ring wearing something you would never expect her to wear. With The Wiz on one side dressed in his suit, Case is dressed in his ring attire, while a twisted smiling Susan Boyle hangs from off Case’s arm.

Linzi Martin: Look at that hooker looking tramp! She has on a black leather jacket, a black t-shirt reading “Cum with me!” in white lettering! Her cleavage leaves nothing to desire as her playboy ear rings hang to her shoulders, with a wide skin tight short skirt and long black heel’s on. Fuck me!

Larry Gordon: I think thats what she’s going for.

In the center of the ring Case puts his mic up to his lips as his music dies off.

Justin Case: Ever since I came back to REBEL PRO WRESTLING, I have dominated my competition!

The arena ignites with boos! People begin to throw garbage inside the ring.

Justin Case: From when I destroyed the corporate suit wearing doped up douchbag, in Jeremy Gold. As then I took a former World Champion and forced him to his knees, in Jonathan Cage. Moving up the ranks by dismantling a man who’s girl I just took from him. And now everyone, I’d like you all to meet my new Valet….Susan Boyle!

Susan is all smiles as she twirls for the camera.

Justin Case: Look at what I have created!

Susan Boyle takes the mic as the boos linger.

Susan Boyle: Shut the hell up!

Wow, that came from her? She smiles as the boos get louder.

Susan Boyle: For years I have been stuck inside this little box, that my people have placed me in, for the sake of my music. But now? Now I get to call my own shots, and Case? Baby, along with The Wiz we will go undefeated! You now have double the back up, and double the pleasure. If you know what I mean.

Linzi Martin: Gross!

Larry Gordon: Yep!

Boyle brushes off her bottom lip as she hands over the mic to her new boy toy.

Justin Case: Next thing I’d like to mention is this. You see, knowing full well I have another match tonight versus Jake Norton, I am not only prepared, but last week on Super Aggression, on his own turf I embarassed him by using Susan Boyle as a means to defeat Norton. In doing so I have altered Jake Norton’s future inside REBEL PRO WRESTLING forever!

The boos begin to quiet down.

Justin Case: You see, I now have proof. If you all are wondering why Jake Norton was fired from Underground X. Among a shit load of other reasons, I now have proof of the real reason Jake Norton was let go from his contract in UX Wrestling. The proof will come in due time. Right now all you need to know is this. Jake Norton was fired because he was caught betting on Underground X matches for money! And who’s to say he won’t start betting on REBEL PRO matches? Now we all know we cant have that going down within a licensed professional organization. So now what?


Justin Case: Soon the proof will come. I can promise you all that. But tonight I will show Jake Norton a thing or two on how to lose.

LL pauses.

Justin Case: You can bet on it.

The new threesome laughs out loud as we go to commercial.

Merry Time Massacre 2012: Blood in the Snow

We fade in to an overhead view of the Olympic Stadium in Montreal, Quebec Canada at night with the island city’s night sky lit up behind the giant dome with snow falling over the island as “Skyfall” by Adele begins to play…

This is the end…
Hold your breath, and count to ten…

A flash over the screen, and The Phoenix is seen in the stands watching from high above within the empty Olympic Stadium, both the AoWF and REBEL Pro World titles one on each shoulder. Grainy black and white images are laced in the background and we see The Phoenix standing victorious over Marvin Wood with both the AoWF World and his then newly won REBEL Pro World title. As they fade we see them showing The Phoenix’s first “win” of the REBEL Pro World Championship. We see The Phoenix stand up amongst the seats, looking down towards the ring with anticipation.

Feel the earth move…
And then hear my heart burst again…

Flash. Sean Robinson stands before us, inside the ring in the grand Olympic Stadium. We close in on him and he delivers his trademark smirk as he looks up into the stands. As we fade, there are more grainy black and white images laced into the background showing Sean Robinson capturing the REBEL Pro Carolina’s Championship a few years ago along with his recent triumphs as UX Undisputed Champion. Sean Robinson climbs the turnbuckle in the empty ring, and points skyward as the dome above him opens.

For this is the end…
I’ve drowned and dreamed this moment…

A quick flash brings us to The Legendary Legacary himself, standing tall and proud with his arms crossed. Susan Boyle to his right, The Wiz to his left. Behind them are more grainy black and white images, showing the days of Justin Case’s two reigns as REBEL Pro World Champion and the look in his eye now that says he’s heading back to the top.

So overdue I owe them…
Swept away, I’m stolen…

Among her are the various puppets we’ve all come to love, as Anna stands outside the Olympic Stadium admiring the structure. She smiles, waving for the camera as both her REBEL Pro Aggression and Tag Team titles shine with the fresh snow falling over them. As she steps forward towards the Stadium, we can see the images of her many great victorious in REBEL Pro laced in the background around her with the lasting image of her bloodied face and broken body. Anna just shakes her head and suddenly she and those affectionately dubbed No Sellers Anonymous disappear leaving us with falling snow.

Let the skyfall, when it crumbles…
We will stand tall, or face it all together…

He takes a deep breath, perched above the entire area above the world’s tallest inclined tower connected to the Olympic Stadium, dubbed the Monteal Tower, and flicks some ash down. Simon looks up, sadness yet readiness in his eyes as the grainy black and white images laced around him show us some of the bloodiest moments in his career. The one that lingers is Riona Langly crushing his eye in the Glass Chamber, but Simon still holding the PWA World title with it covered in his blood… He flicks his cigarette away and lowers his head.

Let the skyfall, when it crumbles…
We will stand tall, or face it all together…

Adrian steps out of a cab, with Lacey Gloria right behind him. They both notice the footsteps of tiny puppets and Anna Mathews, and how they suddenly stop in the snow. He smirks as they walk hand in hand toward the arena. Around them are images from Adrian Kalis’ career; grainy, black and white which show him executing Fley of the Masters of Armageddon with Matt Stone by his side, ending the MoA’s war and cementing The Order of Chaos’ victory earlier this year. The laced images pause with Fley’s head being cracked in half, with one more shot of Adrian Kalis holding the AoWF Television up. He enters the arena with Lacey Gloria, ignoring us and showing he has but one intention in mind…

At Skyfall…
That skyfall…

Voiceover featuring Ron Pearlman: REBEL Pro presents, Merry Time Massacre 2012. Live, from the Olympic Stadium in Montreal, Quebec Canada. There will be blood on the snow.

Everything begins fading to black…

Voiceover featuring Ron Pearlman: War… War never changes…

To The World, V

Unlike previous segments, when we return from an advertisement teasing ‘Merry Time Massacre’, viewers alike are treated to a voice that booms throughout the arena, without notice.

Jake Norton: “Wrestlers believe in this curse that if they don’t cut a promo, it’s almost as if an automatic loss happens. Quite silly, really, but last week, maybe I was cursed. After all, I didn’t cut a promo, but that’s because I felt there wasn’t much to share that I haven’t touched on already. Few weeks ago, Justin Case and I battled in a ‘First Blood’ match that saw me, well, crack him with a wacky bat given to me by Bubba J. Case bled out and I emerged victorious, to the surprise of no one.”

During that paragraph of confession, Norton has passed through the curtains, came down the ramp and is now currently sitting on a barricade, facing a section of tonight’s audience.

Jake Norton: “I thought Case and I were done, at that point. But Simon Kalis saw us both fit to compete for a contendership at adorable Anna’s Aggression strap. And you know? That’s cool. I’d been down for that. Even though for a little over a month I’ve been preaching about defining a World Champion, that’s what every smart wrestler is supposed to do, coz that’s not just the primary prize but ultimate goal of all spandex-wearing cunts. But many people tend to overlook the social significance of a secondary belt. Sometimes it appears to just be there for others who’re not capable of headlining or drawing crowds, such as Justin Case; to keep them happy, so to speak.”

Falling backward off the barricade, Norton flips onto his feet, safely. Opting to now walk around ringside, Norton’s pace is at one a person at the beach would walk, possibly at sunset or something similarly cheesy.

Jake Norton: “But, no. The Aggression Championship doesn’t have to be seen as only a launch pad or stepstool, or whatever it is critics refer to it as. Look at Anna Mathews, a former world heavyweight champion that treats the Aggression belt just as valuable. Though that might be simply coz it shines, so she sees no difference, but regardless, that equivalence is welcomed. The Aggression could be used to define a division, to create a purpose, or develop a reputation. Who knows? That depends on who beholds.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Norton looks at the cameraman following him.

Jake Norton: “I tell you all my opinion because I do wish I didn’t fuck up last week. See, even though I’m the ‘cancerous bastard’ who likes ‘stirring the pot’ and brainbustering old people –“

Crowd pops for that.

Jake Norton: “I have, I’d say, respectable and knowledgeable ideas and beliefs. I’m not close-minded, which explains why I can be so damn radical. And lately, the businessman mindset has given me an undefeated streak. Sadly, I should say ‘had’. Again, we come full circle to last week’s consequence. Earlier I mentioned a curse and how some reckon – like Linzi Martin- it affected me. “

Off-screen yet still audible, we hear Linzi chip in with “I did tell him that” to Gordon.

Jake Norton: “And she’s wrong. There is no curse. I was warned about Susan Boyle’s attempt, by the ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ runner-up herself.”

Norton exaggerates a gasp of shock.

Jake Norton: “How dense is that? She wasn’t vague about it at all. Wait, here, I’ve brought the letter with me.”

Removing a paper that’s been visibly pressed between his hip and orange colored spandex for this entire promo, Norton unfolds it and starts to read.

Jake Norton: “To Jake Norton. You think you’re really clever, don’t you, Mister Norton? Or should I call you Mister Cheater! That’s right, Norton. The whole world knows you couldn’t have beaten Justin Case without Bubba’s aid. How would you like it if someone hit you on the head with an aluminum baseball bat from barbwire hell? Maybe you ought to find out, Mister Cheater. My mother used to tell me – this was before she died and left me with a house of cats that I fucking despise, so I starve them for fun and only feed them crumbs, mind you – she had eyes in the back of her head. Well, Mister lazy-eye, cheating fuck! You better pray to the Old Gods that you can borrow yourself a pair for this week. Let’s just say I got me a front row ticket to Misgivings. And it’s not to promote my upcoming album ‘Standing Ovation’ available in stores everywhere now! Sincerely, a rather talented fan of godly talent, unlike you.”

Looking up from the paper, Norton’s eyes scan the indifferent crowd.

Jake Norton: “Yeah, well. Turns out the Old Gods are cheaters, too. I gave them my faith and in return, nothing! How appropriate. So, I never saw that crazy bat coming. Actually, I did, up on the jumbo screen, but, you know what I mean. But anyway, that’s why I lost last week. Not because of some dumb curse. Simply over Susan Boyle interfering; though, it’d be hypocritical of me to complain since once upon a time I’d have done the same underhanded tactic to ensure I won, too. Yet, that’s when I was a slimy, apprehensive worm. Sort of like Justin Case is today, except he excels at overrating himself.”

Sliding inside the ring finally, when Norton stands, he points skyward to the steel cage that has yet to descend.

Jake Norton: “This is where the steel cage comes into play. After waking up hospitalized last week, I was pissed. Seriously, Justin Case successfully pissed me the fuck off. Throughout recent days in social media, we have people left and right crediting Justin Case as the guy who ended my undefeated streak; “a monumental feat” they say, yet blatantly ignoring the interference. Oh well, that’s the media spinning stories as they please, eh? The thing is I don’t want Justin Case heading to ‘Merry Time Massacre’ with that unfounded ‘pure’ victory on his shoulder. People must never forget that Justin Case is unfathomably stupid and should never be allowed to hold anything prestigious.”

A short pause follows, and then a chuckle.

Jake Norton: “Even though he’s already held the REBEL World Heavyweight Championship, twice. Anyway, Simon Kalis agreed to book a steel cage match so we can settle this dispute once and for all. These fifteen feet high walls of steel ensure that there will be zero outside involvement. To be fair, this isn’t only because crazy Susan Boyle is in attendance, but we all know that Bubba J has a very deep hatred for you. Seriously, that guy sneaks ways to mention you into his promos every week, it seems. Then again, it has become unnecessarily essential to take a shit on you so people don’t fucking forget you are awful and need to stay put in the jobbing category of Jeremy Golden.”

That drew a lot of laughs.

Jake Norton: “Technically, Justin, neither of us has defeated each other in the traditional sense. I’m looking to fix that. No more usage of baseball bats between us. As moronic as this is, I need to fucking prove I can pin you for the one-two-three. That is how I’ll redeem my embarrassing loss to you. The boring truth is, yes, you absolutely suck, and even when I pin you, it’s not going to drastically improve my career. Hell, it won’t even be considered a win, by slang sense. It’s just fucking expected. Still, even if the critics won’t be writing home about me dropping you on your brain-damaged head, I’m going to give you all I got, because that’s what I preach. A World Champion performs topnotch and delivers unparalleled quality because it’s expected of someone who wants to represent a company, an industry, and a profession, no matter who stands across.”

The cage is now starting to lower.

Jake Norton: “That’s just the general idea of a World Champion. Me, I got vision. Me as World Champion will be more graphic and foul, just as REBEL likes it. I think it’s time I start revealing this image by pounding your cunt so hard, it’d be as if my fists were aluminum bats covered in barbwire. And that takes talent.”

Tossing the microphone to referee John Chellios, Norton watches the cage settle atop the apron and awaits the ever so talented, Justin Case.

Cage Match: Norton V. Case III

Jake Norton versus Justin Case

The last image of the promotional video is still bright in the arena as the lights begin to brighten slowly, the last words echo still in the ears of the fans. The entire arena is buzzing from the anticipation of the cage match set to take place as they notice that there is something surrounding the entire ringside area, except for that of the announcers’ table; which has been set outside of the massive cage. The structure is made of cage wire, with several strands of barbed wire woven in for both effect, looks, and the obvious flesh tearing that is set to take place. At the top of the cage is strands of razor wire, looped as though this was a prison, which in some aspects it is. Several weapons hang from loops on the cage, hammers, chairs, kendo sticks, bats, lead pipes, and a rubber duck are among the items, though more are there as well.

Linzi Martin: What a massive structure, one of these men may not walk out alive.

Larry Gordon: Don’t be so over dramatic, it is so woman-like of you.

The door of the cage sits at the bottom of the ramp, open and waiting on the two combatents.

Linzi Martin: These two men will not leave the Den of Damnation the same way they walked in.

Larry Gordon: Do you have fake tits?

Linzi Martin: I’ll sue you for sexual harrassment if you mention that again.

Larry Gordon: Just something to pass the time, just curious.

Linzi Martin: To those hot guys with lots of money, unlike my broadcast partner who is no longer majority holder in Rebel Pro stock, they are real all the way.

Larry Gordon: all two inches worth.

Linzi Martin: Is that what your wife said Larry?

The banter is cut off as the lights dim again, showing several clips, in a very fast paced video package, of the matches, past words, and confrontations between Justin Case and Jake Norton. As the video package comes to an end, its replaced with Case vs Norton III Den of Damnation… fading into a live shot of the arena with the focal point being the cage.
Jenny Jersey: The following match is the Den of Damnation, with only one winner, only one loser, and the way to win the match will be revealed after enough blood has been shed from these two.

The crowd roars their approval.

Jenny Jersey: Introducing first!

“E.T”‘s theme begins to play.

Jenny Jersey: Jake Norton!

Jake is already in the ring, because he doesn’t have a cool entrance like most of the cool kids.

” Victory ” by P Diddy and company hits the P.A. Out comes ” The Millennium Game ” Justin Case! He stands at the entrance way, with his manager behind him, as pyro shoots on either side while he raises his oh so talented arms in the very talented air! Case struts down the ramp as Hugh Aredone limpingly lingers behind. He struts to the squared circle with a cockily arrogance that only he can endeavor. Once from inside the ring, he steps to the second turnbuckle and poses for the crowd on hand. Whether they like him or not, it does not matter. His manager hits his cane on the apron showing his approval. Jumping off the ropes he prepares for the match pulling on the upper rope as his music ends.

Ding Ding Ding Ding

Both men circle in the cage, wanting to keep away from the flesh tearing carnage, but wanting to get close enough to throw their opponent in there as quickly as possible. Collar and elbow, Jake with a go behind. Case goes to fall forward, but balances on one foot, spins, throwing Norton(who is still clinging to Case) against the cage wall!

Larry Gordon: First blood!

Norton winces, coming down, Case charges in, Jake drop toe hold sends Case face first onto a tack covered turnbuckle!

Linzi Martin: Case with a face full of tacks!

Case yells at the pain of the pin holes, pulling himself off and dripping blood from the wounds. He spins around, Jake with a big boot, but Case ducks under, tripping him up nailing him with an uppercut to the chin. Norton stumbles back, Case presses his advantage with a right, left, right right right, left left, right combinatio and Norton is on the wrong end of that is in a world of hurt and here comes Case pressing his advantage with a running knee. Norton lifts his body, driving both feet right into Case’s snarling face; it rocks him back on his heels. Norton charges in with a clothesline and tackles Case down to the mat where both roll around throwing punches, kicking, and possibly biting as nothing seems to have been solved here in this match, nor in the past two that they’ve had. Case with a punch, Norton with one of his own, Case retaliates, but Norton isn’t outdone when he lands a meaty fist to Case’s right eye.

Linzi Martin: They are like kids on the playground!

Larry Gordon: But with tons of fans and weaponry to aid them in this fight.

Norton with a shot right to Case’s “dice” gets him a snarling advantage as well. Case is bleeding, Norton is bleeding, but neither seems to want this to end in the other’s favor. Norton pulls him up, whipping him into a broken glass corner, Case screams from the sudden sharp pain and stumbles out clutching at his back as Norton grins saddistically. Norton charges in, Case slices his chest with a piece of glass from his recently violated back, Norton stumbles back from the onslaught with the deadly weapon. Case looks like a man on a mission of destruction and terror, or much more like a homeless guy looking to mug Norton of his win; which is likely the Case, except for the homeless bit.

Linzi Martin: What savagry!

Larry Gordon: You like it, you always have.

Linzi Martin: Damn right! WOOOOOOOOOO!

Case charges in again, Norton catches the wrist, ducking under into a half-nelson. He drops down, but Case rolls over, causing Jake to land on his back knocking the wind out of him. Case is up, kicking Norton right in the head for good measure before taking a steel c hair off the cage and coming back to slide it under the ring and follow it in. Case winds up, smashing Jake in the head with a golf swing, trying to make a hole in one, but he’s about six feet from the green.

Larry Gordon: What a shot!

Linzi Martin: I think Jake may be done. How can you win this match?

Larry Gordon: Unfortunately the acting Commissioner hasn’t revealed that yet.

Linzi Martin: Oh, you aren’t the acting Commissioner?

Larry Gordon: …

Case sets the chair up, going for his finisher onto the chair, but Jake trips him up, coming up and firing that slice of glass right into Case’s side. Case spins from the pain and Norton launches himself at Case, bulldoging him through the ropes and to the outside! Norton is up somewhat quickly fighting on sheer instinct, as that shot to the head should have knocked him out; his eyes are glazed anyways. Norton whips Case into the cage, back to the apron, where he rubs his face across the barbed wire there, probably making his face a scarred mass for Susan. Norton lifts Justin up, suplex onto the debris strewn floor.


Linzi Martin: C4 explosive!

Larry Gordon: Money, money, money… that isn’t cheap you know.

Both men are shocked, burned, and beaten, but the match still continues until the word of how to finish it comes down. Norton is barely able to pull himself up, Case is much the same in fact Justin hasn’t moved yet. Norton stumbles away to the ring, pulling out a table from underneath that is already wrapped in wire, light tubes, tacks, glass, and a rubber chicken leg. Norton grabs the leg, tossing it behind him to land on the still unconscious Case before he pulls out a ladder, a can of lighter fluid, and a box of matches. Case begins to slowly get up, rolling over then pulling himself up with the help of the ring apron. Norton is setting up the table and preparing it like he’s going to roast Case for Thanksgiving! Case is up to his knees, woozy from the large amount of blood loss, and here comes Jake over to do some more damage. Norton bends down, Case hits him with the chicken leg! It explodes right into Jake’s face causing him to spin around in circles clawing at his eyes and actually screaming from the pain as the heat is extremely intense.

Linzi Martin: C4 again?

Larry Gordon: Not sure, but it was definitely a bang.

Linzi Martin: Just Too Talented! Right into the damn burning table!

Larry Gordon: But a pin can’t take place, there is no idea of what it takes to win this match!

Case falls into the flames as well, but they are put ot for the most part, thanks to the quick response of the Jimmy Johnson volunteer Fire Department, the one man crew that it is. Jake is burnt, broken, bloody; Case is the exact same, and neither man is moving at this point. Johnson is helpless to do anything else, but check if they are still alive, when Case begins to stir or at least his fingers clench in a stiff looking motion. Johnson steps back and nods that they are still alive, t hough he looks a bit worried that no word has come from the back about how to proceed to obtain a winner. Jake is moving, Justin is moving, both are hesitantly and ever so slowly moving to their feet.

Linzi Martin: Sorry fans, but there is no action to call, they are still struggling up to just their knees.

Larry Gordon: This match is going to destroy one of them, but neither will be the same; this is definitely a feud ender!

Linzi Martin: Maybe not, they do have a lot of hatred for one another.

Both are up, their flesh cooked and the blood that had ran is now dry, though fresh blood still seeps from the numerous wounds on both men. Case with a right, Norton with one of his own, though neither has power behind it and the hits are less than effective on even a wet paper bag. Both fall back and shake their head before stumbling towards each other to exchange furious rights; they fall back from each other, not much left in the tank for either man. Case charges in, Norton with a back body sends him into the ladder, it falls up against the cage wall, Norton begins to climb towards something in the top level of the cage. Reaching up, he grabs a set of firecrackers and smiles before Case moves and causes Norton to slam first into the cage then fall backwards to land back first in the ring; the firecrackers still in his grasp.

Larry Gordon: What a fall!

Linzi Martin: I think he broke Norton!

Justin is struggling up, crawling his way to the ring, then under the apron as he is blinded by the blood in his face. Case grabs something, pulling out two sheets of glass then slides them into the ring, before gasping for breath as he leans on the apron. Case forces himself up to prop the sheets of glass on two chairs, before placing the second sheet on another set of chairs on top of the first level.

Linzi Martin: This doesn’t look good, not at all.

Larry Gordon: Not for Norton anyways, its just what he deserves though, filthy Ux’er.

Case slides back out, gingerly as he’s a mass of torn flesh to get the ladder; then he struggles, but manages to get it back into the ring.

Linzi Martin: Just Too Talented from the top of that ladder?

Larry Gordon: Then there will be no choice only to stop the match, no way this could continue.

Jeremy Gold: The winner of the match must keep his opponent from answering a thirteen count.

Larry Gordon: A thirteen?

Linzi Martin: Its unlucky for most.

Case smiles as he lifts himself up one more rung, on his way to the top of the ladder. Norton looks up, kicking the ladder with every single thing he can muster; Case reaches up, holding onto the barbed wire cage.


Case falls, shoulder and neck first through the table!

Linzi Martin: Norton is somehow up to his feet!

Larry Gordon: Case is dead! He’s got to be dead!

Jimmy Johnson begins his count.


Norton is out on his feet, his head lowered and blood pouring from all of his wounds.




Case isn’t moving at all, only shallow breaths.

Linzi Martin: At the very least he’s got broken ribs!



Susan is crying large tears on the outside.



Ding Ding Ding

Jenny Jersey: Winner of the match… Jake Norton!

“E.T”‘s theme begins to play again.

The Sacrifice

“Welcome Home” starts to play on the arena’s speakers as REBEL Pro World champion, the Phoenix comes out. He’s wearing his AOWF World title belt around his waist. Notably, the REBEL Pro belt is nowhere to be seen. The champ walks to the ring, basking in the boos of the crowd. These people hate him nearly as much as he hates them. Not even close to how much he hates REBEL Pro, though.

The Phoenix: You know, my match tonight, I think it perfectly embodies everything that’s wrong with this company. Here I am, the greatest wrestler and the biggest star this sport has ever known and what does REBEL Pro do with me? They throw an endless stream of no named losers at me. Is the plan to bore me so badly that I eventually lose the title by getting pinned while I take a nap?

The Phoenix: But that’s not what’s really bothering me. What I can’t stand is that I’ve stated time and time again that my one and only goal in life is the complete and utter destruction of the AOWF. That’s all I want. But REBEL Pro seems intent on destroying itself before I get a chance to.

The Phoenix: So I guess that just means I’ve got to step my time table up a bit. I’ve been taking things slowly lately. I wanted to let the suspense build, let people start to worry more. But I’ll be damned if I let you destroy yourself before I get to. For weeks now, the AOWF has seen me and my friends attack people. You’ve seen me tearing down Jethro Hayes with match after match of brutality.

The Phoenix: So tonight I’ll start things in earnest. Tonight what I do… what I have to do to Bubba J… That’s on all of you. It didn’t have to happen this way. I could have kept up with the slow build, but my hand has been forced. Tonight, there will be a sacrifice and the blood that I spill will be all…your…fault.

The Phoenix drops the microphone and heads backstage.

Out of The Furnance…

Bubba J:
“Out of the Furnace and into the Flame”

“Ya like that little play on words there? As if any of you fuckers actually read the titles, you just wanna watch us cuss, drink beer, shoot birds, bleed, make others bleed…”

He chuckles.

“Damn, sounds like a typical Rebel Pro show, but more importantly a Bubba J match.”

The camera lightens to show Bubba J sitting on a bar stool inside of Hardcore Drinking, a bottle of Jack Daniels beside him and an ashtray that Heidi should probably empty, if he’d stop putting butts in there.

“Hiya Phoenix.”

He waves the cigarette around in a genial wave.


He smirks, tapping the ash.

“I’ll get to your ass in a minute, but first there are some things that Sean Robinson must know.”

A loud belch and he rubs his stomach.

“Sean, its true Bobby Lee almost beat me and if he hadn’t hit himself in the nuts… he may just have known that. You aired that out like its some early breaking news on the Fox News show, like its something we didn’t already know, most importantly like I didn’t know it either… fuckhead. But what you failed to even mention in passing, something that everyone else with a gram sized brain knew… is the sumbitch was hyped up on steroids that Larry Gordon was feeding to him like candy.”

A raised eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you mention that Sean? I mean, you tried to make me look weak, but you failed to state the gawd damned obvious… and that sir… is why you are a bonefied fuckhead.”

He waves his fingers at the camera.

“Now go on and brag about how you beat Bubba J. Brag about how you get a shot at the Rebel Pro World Champion. Brag until your throat is sore like you’ve been blowing cock to get things, because that is the only gawd damned way you could ever be the longest reigning champion, unless the event is sticking your nose up an asshole at the top of the pecking order. Damn, you’ve got to be a bigger fuckhead than Phoenix, who’s waiting in the wings for his chance to be mentioned like a first grader waiting to know if his pink duck will get him an “A” in the class or if’ll he have to repeat because there are no pink fucking ducks.”

He smirks.

“But don’t go far Sean, this with you and me is far from over. I did not fail to notice that you mentioned nothing about how you failed to make the Extreme Elite group… fuckhead.”

Another smirk, a tap of the ash, its nearly finished.

“Now to my favorite bird brain.”

He chokes down a shot of Jack, wincing then sighing.

“Damn, nearly choked on saying that, forgive me but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to say that… especially to think of you being the Rebel Pro World Champion.”

A glint in his eyes.

“And I already know that you don’t have the balls to put that title on the line, I know you are too prideful, after being burned so many times, to do that.”

He nods.

“So I’m not even going to bother. I’m going to list a few things here Phoenix, I’m going to get a few things off my chest.”

He looks down, putting out the cigarette and lighting up another quickly.

“I don’t like you, not many people do, and its doubtful that anyone believes your vision for a a rebirth of anything.”

A shake of his head.

“It isn’t like you are a blind guy with a different kind of vision. You are a fucktard, with nothing really but a strap that belongs on pretty much anyone but yourself and how you managed to obtain it… I’ll never know.”

A smirk.

“If you want me to list the ways I’m going to legally destroy you in the ring, you are dead wrong and its time for you to be reborn from the ashes…”

He taps an ash.

“But I don’t see that happenening, you are way past gone and into the land of insane that not even therapy would do a damn thing but waste your money. But it doesn’t get any easier this week buddy, old pal.”

Another chug of liquor.

“Cause the chances are pretty heavily in the favor of a concussion.”

A chug.

“A bit of flesh tearing.”

Another shot.

“A bit of whining.”


“A chair.”


“And maybe some weapons.”


“Maybe some fire.”

Shot and a smirk around the bottle before a drag on the cigarette.

“Because Phoenix, I’m going to wrap you up and bake you like the turkey that was forgotten in the freezer. I lost to Sean, I’ve lost to others, you’ve lost to other people, you’ve bled. I’ve bled.”

He snickers darkly.

“But you haven’t bled like you are going to bleed this week.”

He nods.

“Hold your wife close, kiss her good-bye, because the next morning… you’ll have so many holes in your flesh that she’ll be able to use you to water her flower garden.”



Non-Title Match

Bubba J versus The Phoenix

Jenny Jersey: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!

The chorus of Saliva’s “Badass” hits up in the speakers and the Rebel-tron stays pictureless.

“Cause I’m a badass
And you don’t want to clash
Cause your mouth’s writing checks that your face can’t cash
Cause I’m a badass
And this war is your last
You just crossed my path and I’ll drop you fast”
The song transitions to the first verse.

“I need you to hear this loud and clear”

As the first lyric begins to play from Saliva’s “Badass”, Bubba J walks from the back and stares out to the crowd, his fists wrapped in tape and then dipped in broken glass.

“The line and the sand is drawn and I have no fear
When I see red all I need is a reason to set me off
To drop this bomb and pick yourself off the ground”

He slowly begins to walk down the ramp, just staring into the ring, in his own “zone” he pays very little attention to anything surrounding him. No fireworks, nothing spectacular, nothing flashy; just music and him walking.

JENNY JERSEY: From Durham, North Carolina; he stands at six feet and two inches while weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds… “The Ragin’ Redneck” Bubba J!

Bubba J steps up the ring steps before climbing through the ropes. Bubba J then steps over to his corner, facing the entrance ramp and waiting on the damn match to begin.

“Cause I’m a badass
And you don’t want to clash
Cause your mouth’s writing checks that your face can’t cash
Cause I’m a badass
And this war is your last
You just crossed my path and I’ll drop you fast.”

Jenny Jersey: And his opponent!

The arena lights shut off and several seconds of silence pass. Then, in the darkness an old man’s voice begins to sing…

Oh Death
Oh Death
Won’t you spare me over ’til another year?

Pyro explodes around the entrance ramp and stage area. As the flash from the lights fade, we see a figure standing there in a long black robe, his face hidden behind the large hood. In his hand is a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. As the fires continue to burn along the ramp, the figure advances to the ring. As he passes each fire, it extinguishes. Finally, he reaches the ring steps and climbs in before pulling back the hood, revealing the Phoenix, wearing a new black and white mask instead of his normal black and red.

Jenny Jersey: He is the Alliance of Wrestling Federations and REBEL Pro World Heavyweight Champion… THE PHOENIX!


And we’re off, with Bubba J immediately lunging at The Phoenix and throwing heavy lefts and rights towards the champ in quick succession. The fans are immediately on their feet, cheering as Bubba grabs The Phoenix by the head and pulls him down, while simultaneously bringing his knee up and cracking Phoenix in the face. He pummels The Phoenix into the corner turnbuckles before Phoenix slides down with a number of haymaker punches, his head resting on the middle turnbuckle as Bubba begins stomping down on Phoenix’s chest and head to the enjoyment of the fans. Bubba J with two middle fingers for Phoenix before going for another stomp but Phoenix rolls his head out of the way along the turnbuckles and ropes before slipping himself out of the ring. The Phoenix keels forward, clutching his reddened chest and throat before looking back up into the ring and shaking his head. Bubba J yells obscenities at the REBEL Pro World Champion, but the Phoenix ignores him and remains on the outside of the ring.

Larry Gordon: No count outs. If that raging bastard wants Phoenix he’ll have to go out and get him.

Linzi Martin: Looks like Bubba heard ya Larry.

Bubba J slides out of the ring and begins giving chase to The Phoenix. Phoenix grabs the time keeper at ringside

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and shoves her in front of another haymaker from Bubba just in time, making Bubba knock her out cold. Bubba checks on her quickly but looks to Phoenix, who incidentally has grabbed the bell and chucks it at Bubba. Bubba gets cracked in the face and hits the ground, and this is when Phoenix moves in to capitalize. The Phoenix lifts Bubba J up and leaves him prone before locking in a sleeper hold at ringside. Phoenix wrenches the hold and seemingly scoffs at the immense booing from the crowd.

Linzi Martin: Don’t think these fans paid to see a sleeper hold.

One fan chucks a beer can at The Phoenix’s head which causes Phoenix to go of the hold and stand up to confront him. But The Phoenix isn’t a rookie nor a fool and quickly turns to grab Bubba J by the neck and head and lift him up before DDTing him hard onto the ground and onto that beer can, crushing it on his face and finally busting Bubba open. Bubba with a few quick lefts and rights from the ground is revitalized by the sudden bleeding and forces Phoenix away. Phoenix quickly slides back into the ring. Bubba is right in behind him and lunges at him, clothesline takes Phoenix down. Bubba climbs up to the middle turnbuckle and as The Phoenix gets to his feet, Bubba goes for a double ax handle smash BUT referee Alan Stone gets shoved in the way by the Phoenix! Alan goes down hard, and The Phoenix with a quick dropkick on Bubba as he gets up has him down momentarily.

Linzi Martin: That Rob Rob is a dick.

The Phoenix quickly back up but so is Bubba J.

Larry Gordon: Might be, but here’s to him being a victorious one!

The Phoenix kicks Bubba in the gut and sets him up, THE FLAME!!! Phoenix drags the referee closer to Bubba J and covers Bubba.

Linzi Martin: Alan is still out of it a bit.

Phoenix, while maintaining cover over Bubba J grabs referee Alan Stone’s hand and begins counting.




But no music begins to play, and Alan Stone is only now holding his head and wondering what’s going on. Bubba J is still a bit dazed but The Phoenix is demanding his belts. He quickly realizes no one is going to count that terrible bullshit. Phoenix turns around and is met with a kick to the gut of his own from Bubba J- TRAILER PARK TRASH! Bubba quickly hooks the leg!




Alan Stone made the count of his own volition, and calls for the bell. After a moment, the time keeper finds it, picks it up and


Bubba J has his hand raised and The Phoenix rolls out of the ring and grabs his titles. The Phoenix looks to the entrance ramp, perhaps waiting some hooded friends to come however security is what comes and they point at him.

Linzi Martin: If I’m hearing this right in my headset, Adrian has demanded The Phoenix being ejected from the building!

Security approaches Phoenix to inform him that he is, in fact, be ejected from the Underground Arena.

Larry Gordon: Apparently Adrian doesn’t want another Thomas Manchester Black incident as seen at the end of PWA’s London’s Burning.

Security waits for the Phoenix to begin walking away, as Bubba J gets a beer in the ring and climbs the middle turnbuckle to salute Phoenix before chugging it. The crowd cheers Bubba and The Phoenix shakes his head, raising both his World Championships high for the crowd to see before disappearing backstage.

Linzi Martin: Bubba coming up with a HUGE victory here over the great Phoenix.

Larry Gordon: And it looks like there will be no sacrifice of Bubba J or anyone else tonight in REBEL Pro.

Linzi Martin: That garbage might fly in the PWA, but not here Larry!

We fade backstage with one last shot of Bubba drinking yet another beer.

Foreplay In The Bowels of the Underground Arena!

The bowels of the UX Arena are alive with the sound of foreplay. That’s what these segments are. An attempt to get the fans arousal for matches that more often than not have been thrown together willy nilly. Old Man Kalis is clearly having fun with his new toys. He stuffs dynamite up their asses to see if they’ll survive. Cruel cold little taskmaster, ain’t he? But whatevs. Here we are back in Nevada in a still newish backdrop for Rebel Pro viewers with a grappling goddess that’s newish to Underground X fans. It all balances out in the end.

“Hellote, Macca!”

Frantic wave by Anna. And no, we have absolutely no clue why she’s dressed up as a penguin. I bet she doesn’t either, to be honest.

“Eye realize that we doan’t know each utter sew yer going to continue being drunk. Dat’s usually fine xcept I just realized that we haven’t really done very well inn introducing ourselves azza hole. Sure, ya know the Cycunt that runs the place and mayhaps hiz kids, Mopey Cunt and Yeast Infected Cunt. They hang around with Highlander Cunt four some reason.”

Le penguin shrug. Fuck knows.

“You’ve alsew rassled a few like artist formally known as Dale Petty Cunt. But sum ov us knned moar of a hello lyke Mavrick Cunt. Thar’s also GoldieCunt and InfernoCunt and Justin Cunt wit his flabby mananger. Ev’ry wonce inna while, we have an English Muffin Cunt and a Masked Cunt. They seemed to have died again doo to my surpemeness. There’s anutter cunt raoming ‘round talking about aliens and sugaries sumtymes. CageyCunt isn’t ours. Yoo can have him.”

Gag. It’s probably the facepaint. Or the fact that he sucks. Or the fact that he’s useless. A production guy tries to sneak by in the background. It doesn’t work as Anna turns around and points.

“Wat’s ur nayme?”

Production dood jumps a good fifteen and a half feet over the sheer enthusiasm of that question. He shuffles his feet and blinks in response.

“Know cereal. What’s your name?”

He tries to scurry away, but the poor bastard stepped into an electric trap.



“…Aiiiiieeeeee? What kinda name ish dat?”
The headtilt follows it up. She turns towards us again just as the Puppets gang up like a pack of damn wolves and beat him with piñata sticks. They love the smell of fresh blood. Despite the screaming and beating and other such noises, our Dodo Queen smiles with obvious give no fuckness.

“An then there’s mii! The Kooky Cunt wif the cursed cunt. Pleasure to meet ur aquaitance.”

She shakes the invisible Macca hand. It’s there somewhere much like everything else. Everything else like the Holy Grail, Domino’s Pizza, and the two belts she currently has hiding under a rock somewhere in Mormon county. Centuries from now, a jackoff will uncover these shiny thinsg and proclaim them to be the lost word of God because he’s an illiterate dumbfuck. He’ll say that something about black people being cursed and polygamy being a-OK and that GAWD N JEEBUS are just roosting on a planet with many virgins. All this and they’ll never know that it’s just the Aggression and Tag Team titles waiting for their proper owner to return and make ‘em disappear.

But you don’t know that yet. Don’t tell anybody. Shhhhh.

“There’s cake on the table rite over there.”

No lie either. There actually is cake. There’s always cake in a Rebel Pro show. It’s like, ya know…right behind you, dude. How about you get yourself a bite and hope it doesn’t bite back? Pffft. Who am I kidding? It always bites back with addictiveness. This one is special though. It glows like nuclear waste and sprinkles pixie dust all over the place. Mmmmm. Death via glitter.

“Und that’s et really. Ya know, I should make a list ov olive us. Woold mak it easier…”

While Anna plots on how to assimilate these new freaks in with the old freaks, let’s watch something completely different.

Puppet Marty

The feint sounds of the crowd coming to life can be heard as the jumbo screen shows Macca backstage getting prepared for his match. Just as he finishes putting on his wife beater singlet, Macca’s attention is caught by a knock at the door. The Cunster walks over an opens it up before taking a look to his left and then his right before looking down.

Marty! You crazy bastard I thought you were dead!

The camera pans down to show us a stuffed duck with a suitcase sitting beside it. The duck does indeed look to be alive (well as a live as a stuffed duck can be) but in very poor shape. He has stitch marks all over his little yellow body and is now rocking an eye patch that would make Simon Kalis proud.

Where are my manners mate, come in.

Reaching down to scoop up the stuffed animal and his luggage, Macca shuffles back into the locker room before kicking the door shut behind him. Placing Marty down on a bench the cunt begins to speak to his old friend once more.

Man, I seriously thought you had died when El Hijo de Pollo threw you out of the ring. How the hell did you manage to survive that one anyway?

The only reply we get is a blank stare from the glass buttons that are the ducks eyes but you would think he was chatting his little head off with the way Macca is acting. Listening (to what?) intently, Macca gives a nod every now and then sometimes even a laugh or a sound of shock from the little ducks tale.

Fucking hell man. To think you could get through all that. You’re a beast Marty! What brings you to REBEL anyway? Thinking of finally following up on that singles career you where talking about or just here for a visit?

Again nothing from the duck.

CCW you say? And how is that going?

He isn’t saying anything Macca!

CLINT was it? And evil Disney characters?

One possibly two people at most will even get that joke!

I don’t mean to be rude Marty but you have caught me at a bad time. I’m actually getting ready for my match tonight.

Marty gets up and puts a reassuring wing over Macca’s shoulder….. lol j/ks he’s a stuffed duck. He doesn’t do shit.

Yeah it is against Anna Matthews. How did you know that?

Macca stares at the duck for a moment before turning his attention to the suitcase that Marty arrived with. He walks over towards it before turning to Marty once more.

You dug up some stuff on her? You’re a fucking hero Marty. Let’s see what ya got.

Macca flips open the locks of the suitcase before throwing the top open. Inside the suitcase is a single piece of paper. Reaching for it, Macca examines the piece of paper before turning back to the duck.

Why would you have a whole suitcase for a single piece of paper?

The duck just stares at the wall because Macca isn’t even in the fucking things line of sight anymore.

Oh yeah. That actually makes a lot of sense.

Macca turns his eyes back to the sheet of paper in his hands. Glancing over the piece of paper the Cuntsters eyes suddenly darken.

What the fuck type of research is this Marty?

The piece of paper gets thrown to the floor. The camera is able to quickly get a view of what is on the paper before Macca stomps on it. ‘She has nice tits.’ Picking the duck up, Macca gets right up in its grill (or is that bill? Hahaha awesome!).

How the hell is that supposed to help me?

Still nothing from the duck in case you were wondering.

I was already planning on going for a grope mid match anyway you faggot! How did you even write that note anyway? You don’t even have opposable thumbs. You’re a stuffed duck remember cunt!

And with that Macca hurls the ducks body across the room. Hitting the wall with a soft thud Marty drops down onto the bench along the wall, laying down on his side. A grin of accomplishment makes its way onto Macca’s face as he goes to leave, until he turns back to face the duck once more.

Say that again cunt.

Say what again? How has this been going on for so long?

Like a bolt of lightning, Macca launches himself towards Marty but ends up slipping up on the piece of paper that started this fight. stumbling forward and trying to regain his footing, Macca ends up unsuccessful and trips over and lands skull first into the bench before rolling off and landing on the ground. The force of the impact is enough to shake Marty off of the bench and perch him on top of Macca’s head. Laying there for a moment while nursing his head, Macca tries to catch his breath.

Ok, so maybe I deserved that. I know Robb used to treat you like that and that was not cool. I am sorry. Still mates?

If this was anybody else a tear would be falling from their eyes right now over how touching Macca is being but no, it’s just a stuffed fucking duck. It does nothing.

Ok Marty, let’s do this.

And with that the two exit the room and begin to make their way to the ring.

Non-Title Match

Macca versus Anna Mathews

“Collingwood Football Club” brings the impeccable cuntster, Macca, out with Marty in-hand. Not for long, because Macca, although a huge football fan, opts to throw Marty like an American football player! Holy fuck, big deal, right? Marty flies through the air from atop the entranceway all the way toward the commentator’s table, bouncing off a ring post and then the table itself in the process, but safely landing atop Linzi’s shoulder, to her delight.


Larry Gordon: “In recent weeks, Macca defeated The Phoenix and Bubba J. Both men are either current or former World Heavyweight Champions. In a few minutes, Macca will fight another former world champion but current aggression champion, Anna Mathews, in our main event of the evening.”

Linzi Martin: “Gawd, Marty, it’s such a pleasure to have you with us.”

Larry Gordon: “And here comes the Champion, now. I can’t tell who these fans adore more! Macca has settled nicely in REBEL, but this is Anna’s territory.”

Linzi Martin: “Thanks for asking, Marty. I’m decent. Things could be better, but can’t complain, you know? Haha, of course you know, my friend. You’ve done it all, haven’t you? Hey, you should tell the story of when you taught Bill Clinton how to keep the economy afloat. Nah, the viewers won’t mind irrelevant subject matter. Commentators go off-topic all the time in pro’ wrestling,”

Larry Gordon: “Not in REBEL. Do your damn job, Linzi.”

Linzi Martin: “No need for that, Marty. I can handle some drinks.”

Referee John Chellios takes the Aggression belt from Anna and then raises it for all to see. Who knows why since this is a non-title match, and Gordon makes sure to acknowledge that. But it’s John, and he’s known to play by his own rules. Fuck you, Robinson! Anyway, Anna and Macca feel each other out by circling, and then when they hook up, Macca slips his hand onto Anna’s thigh, reaching for a grope, but she instantly knees him in the abdomen! Unleashing a ball of violence upon Macca’s cuntish mug, Anna inevitably spinning headscissors Macca across the ring, and when he lifts himself onto one knee, Anna’s savate kick pushes Macca to stagger backward into a nearby corner. A missile dropkick into the same corner soon follows.

Linzi Martin: “If four or more points are vertices of the convex hull, any four such points can be chosen? Marty, that’s brilliant! I never knew you solved the Happy Ending problem. Will you have a crack at the Brumer–Stark conjecture?”

Larry Gordon: “Why are you suddenly not doing your job?”

Linzi Martin: “You’re right, Marty. I’ve not seen. Is it really that good? Must be if AMC decided to bring it back. Honestly, “the Killing” doesn’t sound like a promising premise, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Handspring back elbow is narrowly avoided because Macca ducked, so Anna crash-landed flat on her back. Macca drops the leg and lateral presses, but doesn’t grope a feel on Anna’s boob, despite the clear opportunity. She kicks out before a single count and immediately elbows Macca’s skull! Sticking in there, Macca fights back by punching Anna repeatedly as hard as he could in her midsection, to stand and stomp her stomach as if he’d be aborting a baby. Pulling a weakened Anna to her feet, Macca whips her into the ropes, and when she returns, Macca lifts and slams her with a Samoan drop! NOPE! Midway of sequence, Anna reverses for a crucifix driver! Macca nearly stays pinned for the third count but luckily escapes by a millisecond! Anna kip ups before Macca, giving her ability to dragonrana him for another near-fall. Next, when both stand, Macca swings for a clothesline, but Anna avoids by low diving a shoulder into his midsection. Macca bends forward as result. Meanwhile, Anna tries schoolboying the Cuntster, but he drops onto his knees instead and elbows Anna in the forehead! Lifting Anna onto his shoulders, Macca unloads a torpedo via fireman’s carry dropped into a football kick to the skull!! That makes the three count easy to secure.

Much like last week, “Collingwood Football Club” theme music plays, announcing Macca as winner, but the beer bash in the audience did a better job of declaring. Drink up, Cunt!

All Falls Down

A camera crew quietly slips into the office of Simon Kalis, commandeered for the evening by young Adrian Kalis. Simon sits across Adrian, pleading his case.

Simon Kalis: Now is not the time for petty inner squabbles. You paying attention to what’s happening, Adrian?

Adrian Kalis: Yeah. Are you?

Simon Kalis: You can’t hold me over a different standard than Rob Robinson. It’s time to call the ba-

Adrian Kalis: Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan for The Phoenix to remind him of his place when it comes down to it. And we both know it will come down to it.

The camera pans around in the room, and on the left of the desk Adrian and Simon sit at, Benjamin Dyce is leaning back in a plush leather couch with Maya on his lap and the PWA Grizzly Beer title on his shoulder. He nods in agreement.

Benjamin Dyce: Ay. We cunt bunted his Hall of Fame ass once, we’ll do it up again should that need arise.

Simon Kalis: And his two goons? Do you have any idea who they are?

Adrian Kalis: Relax, old man. You need to lighten up. Have a drink, we’ve got an unlimited supply of Grizzly Beer thanks to Benji.

Benjamin Dyce: Ay, it’s happy hour every hour tonight lads.

Dyce raises a can in cheers and then takes a chug.

Simon Kalis: War is coming, Adrian.

Adrian Kalis: War is always coming with you, old man. Besides…

Adrian opens the right side desk drawer and pulls out a business card and slides it over to Simon.

Adrian Kalis: I believe we can make allies.

Simon picks up the card and then looks back up at Adrian.

Adrian Kalis: Let The Phoenix bring on his sacrifice brigade, I say. Conflict makes strange bedfellows.

Simon Kalis: This is the number for Paul Alba…

Adrian nods as we fade to the REBEL Pro logo and out…


Allen Chaney defeats Jeremy Gold & Bobby Lee
Fine Wine defeat The Uproars and win $100,000 cash!
Jake Norton defeats Justin Case in the Den of Damnation
Sean Robinson defeats Jonathan Cage and thus Cage is fired from REBEL Pro
Bubba J defeats The Phoenix
Macca defeats Anna Mathews

SA: Misgivings 2012

November 11th, 2012

On the REBEL PRO Titan Tron we come to see a concert of some sort. Hearing a voice singing we pan inward upon the stage, in front of thousands of people. None other than the English reality star Susan Boyle, can be seen.

She proceeds with the ending of her encore performance just coming to a close.

Thats when we switch to the backstage area of Susan Boyle’s international tour. She walks up to her dressing room with a note on her door. She reads it a loud.

” Dear Susan Boyle,

It is with great regard that I, Justin Case, have come to realize that you are my biggest fan and number one supporter. And it is with great thanks that as a reward for being so supportive that you will be given a ticket to next weeks show to watch “The Chosen One” go one on one with Jake Norton! If you so choose to, you will be flown to a special recording of “SUPER AGGRESSION: Misgivings 2012!” in Las Vegas, Nevada. As then you will be escorted to the arena in which you will have a front row seat to watch some REBEL PRO action! All expenses will be paid for in full by yours truly. I hope you except. And I will see you soon.

PS You are truly a talent with every part of your being. With a voice no one can ever try repeating.”

Susan Boyle is then seen all smiles.

I Can Haz Promo?

Simon finishes lacing his boots as we fade in backstage to his office. Maya is skipping rope to get herself pumped, blasting “Gangnam Style” like an awful cunt that she truly is. Simon sits back, lighting a cigarette and closing his eye. That’s when-

Adrian Kalis: So what’re you thinking, old man? Putting yourself in a title match?

Simon Kalis: Honestly Adrian, don’t you have anything better to do than questioning my every move?

Adrian Kalis: Well with TGW basically on hiatus, no. I don’t.

He cracks a grin.

Adrian Kalis: And here everything was going so well. So who’re you gonna have help you win a REBEL Pro title this time?

Simon Kalis: I can beat Johnny Maverick. I’ve always beaten Johnny Maverick, put his ass on the shelf multiple times. And sure it’ll be a shame to do it again but I’m going to do it the same way I did it last time. Besides… I never lost the REBEL Pro Tag Team titles. By right, I can claim them back. We were unceremoniously stripped of everything we bled for. It’s time to remind people what we’re capable of.

Simon stands up and stomps his foot.

Simon Kalis: JEREMY!!!!

Gold jumps up and hoists up a duffle bag fearfully.

Simon Kalis: It’s time, old friend.

Gold drops the duffle bag, clearly too heavy for himself. Maya is taking a break eating some pizza pockets and just casually not giving a fuck about the madness going on about her. Gold pulls out the first piece of… a thing out from the duffle bag and brings it over to Simon.

Adrian Kalis: You’re kidding.

Jeremy straps the plate armor over Simons head, slipping it over Simon and then locking it together at the ribs. Simon smiles, finishing his cigarette as Gold presents him with a steel helmet. It is bare of any special designs, as is the chest armor. Save for the fact it has a small area for Simon to see from his only good eye, and the formation of rubies around it shine crimson in the light. Gold has a second duffle bag under the couch in Simon’s office, where he pulls out a shield with The Order of Chaos skull emblem emblazoned over it. Finally, he hands Simon a barbed wire baseball bat that seems to have been cut in half halfway into it, leaving splinters long, sharp and thick at the end. Maya drops a pizza pocket out of her hand as Simon turns to face Adrian, banging his sawed off barbed wire baseball bat against his steel OoC shield.

Simon Kalis: Niggas know I don’t fuck around.

Simon leans in to Adrian.

Simon Kalis: Besides, would you rather sit out your time waiting for TGW to get back into gear? Why don’t you go save the PWA, God knows they need it. Or is it you’re scared of a white girl?

Maya: Ohhh shit!

Maya snaps her fingers in front of Adrian and laughs, yet Adrian maintains a forced smile.

Adrian Kalis: You have the wrong offspring on your team tonight. Remember that, old man…

Adrian shoves his way past Simon and leaves. Simon however taps his shield again and then points to the door.

Simon Kalis: This shit is hot in here. Let’s get this done with.

Maya: Great speech dad.

Kalis bows as we fade.


He sits up. He yawns. A few years ago he would have been waking up with a hangover. There would have been a pile of bottles, drug paraphernalia, and nude people in his room but no. Today his apartment is DC is clean of all evidence of vice save for a few longboxes of comics, crates of records, and an attractive lady sleeping next to him who he had made clear to the night before that this was just a one night thing. And hey! Johnny remembered her name! And it’s 8 AM and he hasn’t kicked her out! MUCH different from Johnny two years ago. Johnny didn’t like that Johnny. Johnny a year ago was a guy he THOUGHT he liked but he was apparently the kind of guy who got cheated on so he must have been doing SOMETHING wrong. It might have been karma, for all of the women whose names he didnt remember. Every woman he had woken up and told ‘Make like a tree and be outside of my house’. He couldn’t go back to that way of life, it would have been easy though. However, devoting himself to one person had never worked out to well in the past, either. The first one got into the ring before she was ready and got hurt. Bad. She became so afraid of Johnny she got as far away from him as she could. Another he had devoted himself to so fully, so entirely that it nearly destroyed him when she betrayed him. The other…well…we’ll get to her. He could never be that low-life who treated women like penis recepticles ever again, but he also couldnt see himself ever investing in any one woman emotionally ever again out of fear.

“Hey Mandy…uh. Let’s go get some breakfast then I can take you home.”

It didn’t hurt to try and find some middle ground there.


“Someone asked me how much longer I really thought i’d be doing this.”

Johnny is standing in front of his recently re-opened record store in a ‘Circle Jerks’ T-shirt, Hoodie Ninja hoodie, torn jeans, and a pair of red Chuck Taylors.

“It’s a question I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately. Yeah, seemingly my career is in a bit of a slump. The tag team is going okay but as far as singles competition? Johnny Maverick is nearly a non-entity. He’s not on anyones radar and he may as well have stayed dead, for all he has accomplished. He’s had a good run. It’s probably time for him to step down and let the next guy have a turn.”

Johnny cracks open his bottled water.

“So how much longer am I going to be doing this? As long as there is breath in me. As long as I have the ability to stand up and face all of the people who tell me I can’t or that I’m not good enough and raise a pair of defiant middle fingers. Fuck you, I can. Fuck you, I am. Fuck you, Fuck everyone like you, Fuck their mothers, pets, mailmen, and anything with a fuckable orifice even slightly related to them. I will get my Filth and my Fury back or I will die trying.”

He takes a sip.

“Good fortune has given me a few things this week that should afford me that chance. I still have an amazing tag partner and I we have a chance to prove ourselves against the best. Well, someone who will tell you for DAYS that he is the best. That is, if his face is un-fucked up enough that he is able to speak this week. That seems to be a re-occuring theme with you Simon. You act like an all-powerful deity. Someone fucks you up. You learn absolutely no lesson from it. You come back and pull the same shit, then get fucked up once more. Lather, rinse, repeat. I’m not going to be the kind of guy who says ‘I’m gonna be the one to teach you a lesson’ because A. I honestly don’t have that much of a problem with you right now and B. We both know that’s a lesson you aren’t going to learn. I often find myself envious of Simon Kalis, but in the same way I am envious of autistic children. I’m envious of their ability to block out reality. If I could unironically stand in front of a television camera and tell the world I am a formerly caucasian militaristic bazillionaire gang leader somehow connected to the government and lived every day of my life like a Grand Theft Auto mission as designed by a 14-year-old on acid and believed every word out of my mouth was gospel then I would do it everyday. It turns out though that I am just a man with a set of skills conducive to competitive combat. Unlike many others in the locker room I am not out to embarass Simon or ruin his life or kiss his ass. I am here to beat him. I think that’s something I’m capable of, so yeah. I know he’s capable of beating me too, but time hasn’t been kind to Simon physically. Me? I’m just fine. Got both eyes, haven’t had anyone try and fuck my face up so bad I can’t speak. Never had a gun fired at me once.”

Johnny shrugs and has al ot more of his water. Damn that’s some good water.

“And after Simon gives his whole schpiel, viewers will get what they really came to see. A nice shot of Mayas lovely perky tits. On a professional note Maya, I’m absolutely itching for this chance to get that win back from you after we last fought. On a personal note I’d like to remind you that I am single now, you have my number, and Mr. Pokey misses you. Just like old times, our jobs not done til we’ve ruined the sheets only this time they won’t be your fathers. You beat me, and I acknowledge that victory and commend you on it. I also want you to know it’s not something I intend on letting happen again. My partner and I have had our names dragged through the mud lately and I think both of us are starting to get a little sick of it. A part of me is always going to love you Maya, but when we step in that ring you had better have something more than your tits to show me or I am going to leave you as I have left you so many nights before; Breathless, drenched in sweat, and on your back. You’re not going to get in my head like last time, you aren’t going to distract me with your sexuality, you are going to have to sweep up what is left of your father and come out there and outwrestle me Maya. That doesn’t bode well for you. Anna and I feed off of controversy but there isn’t going to be any this week. One of you is gonna get pinned or tap out, and Anna and I are going to get your respect. That is the only way I am going to let this play out. I don’t know why Maya and Simon are gunning for the tag titles, maybe he want s to assure everyone of his dominance in REBEL Pro. He wants to win those belts to show the UX’ers that REBEL is his baby and no one is gonna fuck with it, and in the end he’ll be singin that old Ramones song.”

Johnny finishes his water. Drinking water is the thing he did in this promo that I used to break up the paragraphs.

“The KKK Took My Baby Away.”

Johnny tosses his empty water bottle in the trash and heads inside his shop before we fade to black.

REBEL Pro Tag Team Championship Match!

The KKK versus Simon and Maya Kalis

Jenny Jersey: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the VACANT REBEL Pro Tag Team Championships! Introducing first!

“This World Ain’t Big Enough For The Both of Us” by Sparks hits as Anna Mathews appears on the stage, and the fans here at the Underground Arena in Las Vegas give her a huge pop.

Jenny Jersey: She is the reigning REBEL Pro Aggression Champion and one half of Kontroversy Kreates Kake! ANNA MATHEWS!!!

Anna runs down the ring, cheery and happy as always slapping hands with fans as she slides in and raises her shiny Agg title in the air.

Jenny Jersey: And her partner! He is a certified REBEL Pro Legend!

“Lead Into Demise” hits as Johnny Maverick steps out, the crowd cheering for him strong.

Jenny Jersey: He is JOHNNY MAVERICK!!!

Johnny enters the ring now and high fives Anna, both of them turning to the entrance ramp.

Jenny Jersey: And their opponents!

“The Rains of Castamere” by White Noise Lab hits and this crowd here in Las Vegas, many who only a few weeks ago were here watching Underground X recognize these two much easier…

Larry Gordon: Oh Lord he isn’t…

Linzi Martin: They are.

The crowd goes nuts as a they emerge on a large, black Shire horse. Simon is in front, while his daughter Maya holds onto him by the waist behind him on the large beast. Johnny and Anna smirk, as Simon waves his weapon arm in the air toward the crowd.

Jenny Jersey: He is the acting President of REBEL Pro, and she is his lovely daughter! The ever talented, Simon and Maya Kalis!

Larry Gordon: Hopefully he won’t slit the horses throat when he gets to the ring.

They trot forward slowly, circling the ring and giving the fans a chance to pass their hands over the Shire horses muscular frame before Simon dismounts and then helps Maya down. Simon is still decked out in his steel armor above the waist, and he climbs the steel steps while Maya slides into the ring. A duo of professionally trained handlers come out and lead the horse backstage. Referee Alan Stone raises the REBEL Pro Tag Team titles in the air for all to see before handing them off at ringside. Simon bows before Anna and Johnny respectfully, before hoisting his shield up forward with his sawed off barbed wire bat aimed for Anna Mathews. Maya blows them both kisses, with an extra wink for Johnny Maverick.


Maya and Johnny immediately lock up, and a power struggle ensues but quickly ends with Johnny hip tossing Maya to the canvas. Simon swings his fucked up bat at Anna, who instinctively begins dodging the attacks. She bounces off the ropes and goes for a dropkick but Simon lifts his shield up and literally swats her down and away, and even though he stumbles back he does not fall. It leaves Anna open for Simon to swing downward at her with his unorthodox bat but she rolls away and the bat rips a part of the canvas off as Simon brings the weapon back up. Maya is on her feet and charges Johnny but he ducks her clothesline attempt, and then hits a spinning heel kick as Maya moves forward and hits her in the back of the head sending her right back down to the canvas.

Larry Gordon: Ahhh. I missed this. A TRUE REBEL Pro Tag Team match. Tornado tag rules as a standard, and of course the usual fair of no other rules to speak of practically.

Linzi Martin: Johnny giving it to Maya and Anna is dodging Simons attacks well.

Simon encroaches on Anna and spreads his arms out, his shield in the left hand and his bat in the right. He seemingly begs Anna to come at him and she does, going for a baseball slide to take Simon out at his exposed legs but Simon hops over her, spins around and shield bashes her into the canvas for her troubles. Repeatedly Simon smashes the center curve of his shield into Anna Mathews face until she’s busted open and bleeding all over the canvas. Johnny Maverick meanwhile snap suplexes his ex-fiance right back into the canvas and goes for a cover.


T- Maya kicks out easily.

Simon taps his bat on the canvas, yelling at Anna to get back up. She does and as Simon charges she grabs onto the top rope and pulls down with all her weight, sending Simon and all that armor over the top rope and onto the outside. The crowd is loving it. Anna hops up onto the top rope and Simons no longer holding onto his shield or his bat. He pulls himself up, only to meet a huge missile dropkick from Anna Mathews sending him onto the steel entrance ramp. Maya finally dodges an errant elbow from Johnny and hits him with a spinning heel kick of her own. She clenches her fists and begins cracking Johnny hard in the face with a quick flurry of lefts and rights. Johnny stumbles into the corner turnbuckles and Anna grabs Simons shield and begins bashing him at the neck just where there is a slight opening. Simon immediately chokes and Anna drops the shield and rips his helmet off. She throws it into the front row to a young boy who’s pretty happy to have it. Was a piece of shit anyways.

Larry Gordon: I feel like this is half a wrestling match, and half a fight you’d see at a boss level in a video game.

Linzi Martin: That turns me on.

Anna grabs the bat now and takes a crack at Simons face but doing so from his right side and not the left gives him a chance to counter, and so he puts his arms up to save his face but the flesh on his arms get ripped up from the barbed wire. Anna lunges with the bat, using the sawed off end with the large thick splinters as a spear and begins stabbing at Simon. He manages to roll around on the entrance ramp and takes the blows with his plate armor over his chest. Anna’s lunging at him so hard and furiously the splintered wood cracks and breaks all over Simons armored chest. Maya low blows Johnny in the ring and then makes a run to save her silly old father, leaping over the top rope and to the outside before jumping on Anna Mathews back and wrapping her legs and arms around the Aggression Champion. The crowd cheers wildly as Anna staggers around with Maya on her back, and Maya trying to choke Anna out. Simon gets to his feet and lifts his shield and bat back up but Johnny is also back up. Simon looks up into the ring at Johnny, and the two exchange some heated words as Jeremy Gold comes running to ringside from backstage. Anna Mathews throws herself backwards into the guard rails and crushes Maya between herself and the rails. Maya crumples down behind her, and Anna lays slouched trying to catch her breath. Jeremy Gold has a gas canister in one hand, and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

Linzi Martin: Johnny knows what’s coming.

Larry Gordon: Any diehard REBEL fan knows.

Jeremy hands Simon the cigarettes, as Anna and Maya gingerly begin crawling away from each other. Simon pops a cigarette into his mouth as Jeremy pours gasoline all over his sawed off barb wire baseball bat. Jeremy pulls out a lighter and the bat ignites in a gush of flames and the fans at ringside go nuts. Simon lights his cigarette with his now flaming sawed off barb wire baseball bat and climbs the steel steps, placing the flames to the ropes and instead of climbing into the ring through the ropes, Simon waits for them to snap one by one under the flames. Anna goes under the ring as Simon yells at Jeremy to run backstage. Maya gets up and jumps up onto the apron at one end behind Johnny. Anna however surfaces on the other side and she throws Johnny a metal garbage can lid and a lead pipe. Johnny lifts up the garbage can lid but kicks the lead pipe back to Anna, tapping a certain patriotic tattoo and all the marks in the arena go nuts. Maya jumps down and goes under the ring herself as Anna hops up onto the apron with the lead pipe in hand.


Simon charges at Johnny, swinging his flaming bat at Johnny who blocks it with his own shield now all the while still smoking his cigarette. Anna comes in and swings the pipe, Simon drops to a knee and puts his shield up to block the attack. Another puff. He swings again at Johnny, this time at Johnny’s legs but Johnny jumps up over the flames and brings his shield crashing down on Simon’s head but Simon holds onto that cigarette in his mouth. Simon stumbles back and Anna lunges with her lead pipe, Simon blocks with his flaming bat and now just in the nick of time Maya rolls into the ring with a large purple dildo, GTA STYLE BITCHES! She smacks Anna hard in the back of the head with it, sending Anna down. Johnny spins, raises his shield and the dildo indents it and pushes him back. But Johnny shoots the shield out and the metal trash lid cracks Maya in the throat. She coughs, chokes and stumbles back and Johnny rushes at her- THE TONY JAA!!! Maya is down and Johnny pins.




But there’s Anna Mathews and she bounces off the ropes as Simon gets to his feet, BOOMERFLY KICK! That fucking cigarette drops! The shield drops! The flaming bat drops! BUT Simon goes flying out over the top rope from the impact and back to the outside. Johnny covers Maya again!




Larry Gordon: Surprised to see Maya had the awareness to do that.

Linzi Martin: I thought REBEL Pro doesn’t have rope breaks?

Larry Gordon: Actually Linzi, if you look at the REBEL Pro rules the referee won’t stop a submission even if the person being hurt is holding onto the ropes but nor will the ref count a pin or submission in rope break.

Johnny pulls Maya into the middle of the ring as Anna slides out of the ring to finish off Simon, but it’s then the crowd goes apeshit as Adrian Kalis comes out from backstage, Benjamin Dyce behind him waving a very large orange flag.

Larry Gordon: Of course. The goon squad. That stupid Orange Revolution was nothing more than another front for The Order of Chaos.

Anna steps back from Simon who sits up. Adrian helps Simon to his feet and holds him up. Simon wipes his face and then smiles, turning that smile to Anna. Of course, that smile is quickly gone as Adrian pushes Simons head down and lifts his knee up and cracks Simon across the face. Simon stumbles back, and Adrian hits a thrust kick straight into Simon’s armor plated chest and it sends Simon down to the ground. Anna looks shocked as Adrian begins stomping down on Simon while Benjamin Dyce places the flag pole down at the ring post. Johnny is now watching, while Maya goes behind him and rolls him up, throwing in an extra grab to his crotch for the old times.


Larry Gordon: What in the world is going on?!


Anna slides back into the ring, ignoring Adrian’s beatdown of Simon buuuut!


Anna rushes Maya and cracks her over the head with that lead pipe, Maya is busted open. Benjamin Dyce turns around and crosses his arms, looking down at his feet. Adrian lifts Simon up and hits the MasaDriver! The crowd is cheering! The crowd is booing! Everyone is confused as fuck! Maya is on her knees and Johnny approaches her. He lifts her up and gives her a quick hug before flipping it into ANOTHER BODY MURDERED! On the outside of the ring, Adrian and Benjamin Dyce wrap Simon in their large orange flag from head to toe.

Johnny covers Maya again!





Jenny Jersey: The winners of this match and NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW REBEL Pro World Tag Team Champions! Johnny Maverick and Anna Mathews! KONTROVERSY! KREATES! KAKE!

Alan Stone hands them the tag team titles, and Anna gets her Aggression Championship as well. Benjamin Dyce rushes to Maya and pulls her out of the ring and into her arms as Adrian relentlessly stomps on Simon’s face. Benjamin Dyce rushes with Maya, limp in his arms for help as The KKK watches on with their guard up but good smirks cracking over their faces. Adrian walks away without looking back, and with his exit Anna and Johnny high five and raise their titles high.

Linzi Martin: What in the…

Larry Gordon: I’m sure we’ll find out what that was about. But what’s really important right now is this great tag team of Johnny and Anna, and their success in capturing the REBEL Pro Tag team titles.

Linzi Martin: Also, there’s one side of the ring with now ruined ropes. Someone should probably fix that.


Anna and Johnny have now disappeared backstage, while EMT’s uncover Simon from the orange flag. His face is badly beaten and swollen as they help him to his feet, meanwhile the ring crew works on replacing one side of ropes that were burned during the last match.

Linzi Martin: I’m sure you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

Simon throws his metal plate armor off and stumbles forward, wiping the blood from his face.

Larry Gordon: Seeing Simon get hurt doesn’t bother me, no.

Simon begins blindly running up the entrance ramp and the view switches to a camera crew following Adrian who’s already on his way out of the arena. Raj Bindaloo, our intrepid young foreign reporter chases after Adrian but his asthma prevents him from ever really catching up to him. That and he ran into the closing parking lot door. Quickly however this changes as Simon bursts through the door. Adrian stops at his vehicle to light a cigarette as Simon maintains a brisk pace.

Simon Kalis: What the fuck was that?

Adrian turns and blows smoke into Simon’s face.

Adrian Kalis: You put yourself into a title match of your own company.

Adrian scoffs.

Adrian Kalis: Again. And I helped you last time but I wasn’t going to see you sneak your way into more bullshit.

Simon wipes the blood from his lip and begins to smile.

Simon Kalis: You think you can do better? Why don’t you run REBEL Pro next week, let me know how it goes.

Kalis turns around, spitting blood and walking away.

Simon Kalis: I’m gonna need a fucking vacation.

Adrian leans against his car and exhales more smoke, and we’re pretty sure the ring is good to go SO!!!!

REBEL Pro Contract Invitational!

Already in the ring are three fresh-faced rookies. ‘Rosemarys Baby’ by Fantomas begins to play and Umbra slowly walks to the ring, dragging a Teddy bear just behind him. He gets in the ring and sits in a corner clutching at his teddy bear.

The bell rings and Umbra sets his bear aside. He stands and quickly gains the upper hand in the match but the attention of the crowd quickly turns to something else.

A fan has jumped the barricade and he’s wearing a black ski mask and wielding the chair he was sitting on. Several members of security rush toward him but he is quick to take each of them out with the folding chair. He then rolls into the ring and starts nailing all of the rookies with the chair.

Jenny Jersey: Someone has climbed in the ring and is raising hell!

The masked assailant looks over at Umbra and he tosses the chair aside. Umbra grabs the masked assailants mask. The masked assailant grabs Umbras mask. Both of them tug and we are surprised by both reveals.


Linzi Martin: Wait…is that…Spyke Gein! UMBRA IS SPYKE GEIN!

Spyke falls into a sitting position and hides his hands behind his face. He rocks back and forth in a disturbing manner. We haven’t seen a trace of Spyke since his wife had miscarried. He clearly wasn’t taking it well. Allen falls to a knee and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Allen: “Are you alright?”

Spyke offers no response. He simply grabs his teddy bear, rolls out of the ring, and heads to the back. Allen looks around and notices the other three match participants are starting to stir. All three come at him and he quickly levels each of them with a Set-Up (bionic elbow) and the crowd goes wild. He pins one of them but the ref refuses to count. Allen stands and is quick to kick the ref in the gut and bring him down on the mat with a package piledriver.


Larry Gordon: That was like, right in my fucking ear.

Allen stands and looks at all the chaos he created and laughs to himself a little bit. All three of the rookies were bleeding from the face. The ref was twitching slightly on the ground. Allen pounds on his chest and raises his arms, letting out a triumphant shout. The crowd goes wild for the savage display. A few more members of security come out but are stopped by Simon Kalis as he walks out with a briefcase in hand and a referee in tow. The ref slides into the ring. Allen looks at Simon with a confused look on his face but is interrupted by a punch from one of the rookies. The other two had rolled out of the ring and were leaving and probably showed some intelligence in doing so. Allen boots the rookie in the chest and delivers a second package piledriver. Mikey Massacre turns and shouts in Linzi Martins ear.


Linzi Martin: Wow, you’re right. That IS pretty annoying.

Allen places his foot atop the fallen rookie and doesn’t take his eyes off of Simon as the ref makes the 3 count and calls for the bell. No music plays as they don’t have Allens music on file. Simon approaches the ring and sets the briefcase on the apron. He opens it and takes out a clipboard. He reaches between the ropes, extending it to Allen. Allen has a look at it before he reaches down and rubs the rookies forehead, smearing blood all over his hand before he finger paints his name on the dotted line. He hands the contract to Simon who puts it in his briefcase before politely golf-clapping for Allen. He heads to the back, leaving Allen to celebrate.

Linzi Martin: Now THAT is how you sign a contract in REBEL Pro! ‘The Comedian’ Allen Chaney has officially arrived in REBEL!

Larry Gordon: That big fat joke is gonna make a mockery out of professional wrestling!

Allen high fives a few of the fans as he heads to the back, smiling wide.

The Day Of…

We move to a shot of Susan Boyle now entering the backstage area of the Underground Arena in Las Vegas. Its the night of the fight. She makes her way down the hallway and stops at Justin Case’s dressing room door.

Boyle trys to dry off her moist palm and nervously knocks on Case’s door.

Justin answers rather rudely.

Susan Boyle: Justin Case! I cant believe I am in the same

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place as “The Chosen One!”

Justin Case: Yeah, who the hell are you?!

Susan is taken back by the news

Susan Boyle: What do you mean? You sent me a letter and paid my way here. Look, I even have a front row center ticket.

She pulls out her ticket.

Justin Case: Well, thats an Aggression ticket, but I dont know what the hell you are talking about lady. Listen chick, hit the bricks. I got alot of groupee’s. Stand AT THE END of the line!

Case slams the door in her face!

Susan Boyle can’t believe it. She came all this way for what? This?

For reasons unknown, suddenly her frown changes to an smile.

Fade out…

Number One Contenders Match for the Aggression Championship!

Justin Case versus Jake Norton

With Susan Boyle at ringside in the front row cheering him on, Justin Case makes a grand entrance which is quickly cut short by Jake Norton sneak attacking him from behind. Immediately Norton with a Russian leg sweep into the guard rails catches TCO off guard, but Justin Case quickly rebounds with some errant elbows that catch Norton hard. He throws Norton into the ring and the bell rings to start the match up. Case with a German Suplex crashes Norton to the canvas. Norton rolls with it, getting to his feet with Case and hitting a Pendulum Elbow that knocks Case flat on the canvas.

The crowd is really into it as Norton continues his assault with a wheelbarrow dragon suplex! He goes for the cover but only gets a two count, and Case gets some encouragement from Susan Boyle in front row as she holds up a sign that says “Case’s #1 Fan!” Case now dodges an attack by Norton, and then quickly hits a Fishermans suplex on Jake Norton. Case wastes no time, his veteran presence of mind kicking in as he climbs up top and lands a wonderfully executed shooting star press over Jake Norton and this time he covers! He gets the 1! The 2! But not the 3 as Norton kicks out, trying desperately to hold onto his undefeated streak. Norton elbows Case again, throws his arms out to his sides and absorbs the reaction from the crowd before twisting around and hitting Case with double hammerlock piledriver! This time Norton covers!




Norton shakes off the referee’s decision and lifts Case back up but Case with a quick grapple then whips Norton into the ropes. Case lands a great dropkick which sends both men crashing to the canvas. Norton is however looking to capitalize and does so by hitting a half nelson suplex on Case, although considering the size difference it took a lot out of him to do it. It’s then that Susan Boyle herself hops over the guard rail and quickly vanishes under the ring. Norton catches it and begins looking around at all sides for her. From underneath the ring, Susan Boyle appears again this time with an aluminum barbed wire covered bat! She slides in behind Norton, the crowd is going NUTS, Case’s jaw has dropped and Norton… Jake Norton looks at the REBELTron and gets a televised view of what’s happening, and before he can even turn around to meet her, Susan Boyle cracks the back of his head open with the hardest swing she can muster. Norton lurches forward, bouncing onto the ropes as Susan drops her weapon and steps aside. Case is up and catches Norton as he bounces back from those ropes and hits JUST 2 TALENTED! The crowd can’t believe it! Case covers!





Justin gets his hand raised and that’s when, as “Victory” blares through the speakers, he and Susan Boyle embrace in a hug in the middle of the ring. Norton rolls out of the ring very groggily, holding the back of his bleeding head on the ground outside the ring. Case and Boyle get out of the ring, and hand in hand they walk up the entrance ramp victoriously with The Wiz following closely behind.

Fake Empire III

Backstage, in the Wrestling’s Undisputed private locker-room, Salazar ties his bootlaces while Deicide rolls the kinks out of his strained neck. Both Undisputed Tag Team Championships rest atop the coffee table conveniently positioned for this camera shot to include. In the background, a strangely familiar voice gives the ‘go’ to speak.

Cesar Salazar: “It’s only been two months since this arena blew up.”

Sitting upward, Salazar leans back into the comfortable, leather cushion of the couch seating both Undisputed members.

Cesar Salazar: “Simon resurrecting it – is too soon, I feel.”

One glass of dark, brown liquid swirls inside, thanks to the rotating wrist of Deicide.

Deicide: “It’s surprising, to say the least; that people are filing in, as we speak.”

Now downing the liquor, Deicide tilts his head backward.

Paul Alba: “Perhaps the fact Mainerishi is nowhere-in-sight and will not be physically part of this show makes this Super Aggression acceptable?”

The ‘strangely familiar’ voice from earlier is now made clear: Paul Alba, the voice of Underground X via play-by-play/lead commentator and author of Blacklist transcripts.

Cesar Salazar: “That could be possible.”

Exhaling hard on a whisper, mucus crackling Deicide’s voice sounds. Leaving the couch, Deicide heads to the locker-room bathroom to spit his mouthful of phlegm into a toilet bowl.

Cesar Salazar: “He’s terribly sick.”

Paul pans the camera around to get a view of Deicide standing in front of a sink, tossing cold water onto his face.

Paul Alba: “Will it affect his performance?”

Cesar Salazar: “No.”

The out-of-shot response prompts the camera to return to focusing on Salazar.

Paul Alba: “Right. You two are gems at wrestling, but the Eastern Uproars –“

Deicide: “They go by simply ‘Uproars’ now.”

You can’t see it, but Alba is visibly sad.

Paul Alba: “What’s wrong with ‘Eastern Uproars’? I pegged that, you know.”

Patting his thigh thrice in rhythm, Salazar nods.

Cesar Salazar: “Who knows what they’re doing now. Am I the only one that’s noticed Edison lost his humbled, blue-chip charm, lately? He’s excessively swearing, playing hipster and acts cock of the walk, all of the sudden.”

Paul Alba: “I think he’s reinventing himself for the REBEL audience. Maybe he wants to be seen under another light instead of ‘Pee Wee Herman in spandex’.”

Deicide: “All that falling-with-style Edison does, he ought to voice Buzz Lightyear.”

Paul Alba: “Edison should become the fifth Wiggle.”

Cesar Salazar: “He’d have to know how to make fruit salad.”

Almost in the vein of Family Guy, the scene changes to an old video of Disney Playhouse’s “The Wiggles” ( When we return, the trio eventually stops laughing at Edison’s expense. Really, Edison is a saint! He doesn’t deserve this mockery.

Paul Alba: “Alright, we gotta record you guys saying something provocative.”

Former archrivals turned closest of friends, Salazar and Deicide exchange a look, as if telepathically speaking.

Paul Alba: “How about we start with you, Deicide.”

The Undisputed duo simultaneously looks back at Alba.

Deicide: “Well, I’ve been sick the past few days: got a sore throat, thumping headache, warm fever, stuffy nose, all common symptoms of a typical autumn cold. Yet, still, I am quite confident in retaining these belts.”

Paul Alba: “Why is that?”

Without needing to ponder, let alone think, Deicide replies smoothly as silk.

Deicide: “I’m not being arrogant, Paul. Salazar and I have discussed at length the UX tag division, when that’s where we reigned supreme, so of course, the Uproars being one of the very few teams we had yet to separate and force out of town, the topic of our stance on their importance, value and skill crept in frequently.”

Intervening, Salazar adds to Deicide’s admission with a smile and the following:

Cesar Salazar: “Most of our conversations are work-related. Our minds constantly calculating, analyzing, determining moves, strategies, techniques, whatever can enhance our mental performances. And, we’ve estimated the Uproars as being our true UX adversaries. If anyone in that awful league had an ounce of potential, it would be them. Therefore, if they were given the opportunity to challenge us, we would not stipulate the match as ‘Losers Leave UX’ because they are crucial to having a substantial tag division that’s rich and diverse. We still believe them to be fantastic counterparts.”

Paul Alba: “That’s cool hearing you two credit them as great competitors. But, what’s the catch? You two obviously aren’t planning to lose.”

Both Champions take their belts off the coffee table by the leather and hoist them onto their shoulders.

Deicide: “Simon Kalis took a jab at us recently on a promotional poster by saying this match is for the ‘Disputed’ Tag Team Championships. Apparently, he didn’t like our words from a few weeks ago saying he should just recognize us as the absolute tag champions of REBEL Pro and be our cheerleader. Hence him booking not just his daughter but himself against Krontrovery Kreates Kake for the REBEL Tag Titles on tonight’s card, too.”

Cesar Salazar: “Are we upset by this? No. In all actuality, he’s given us what we wanted. I’m sure many of you fans have noticed in previous weeks, Simon hasn’t been booking us. Why? Because he knows we’ll wipe out this division. We obliterated Golden Inferno in our official in-ring REBEL debut, and that’s not really something to hoot about, but considering that Job Squad is one of – what – two tag teams available in REBEL Pro? That left KKK to defend the hold. Fortunately, Simon has roped in ‘Fine Wine’ and ‘The Uproars’ to stabilize things, but once we defeat ‘The Uproars’ tonight, and I imagine ‘KKK’ overcomes the Kalis Family, predictably, our paths must cross to unify the tag championships.”

Deicide: “The ultimate goal here is purifying this tag division. Do we wish to save it? Yes. How so? By being elite, classy motherfuckers who’re technically profound and are capable of establishing far-reaching connections with the masses. Believe it or not, Salazar and I don’t get our jollies off bending bodies in unnatural ways or piling up mutilated corpses like Simon Kalis fantasies about. You know, the oh-so-cool ideal of transforming ringside into a warzone – complete with decapitated heads spiked on turnbuckles and bloodstained mats.”

Cesar Salazar: “We only do that because that’s what it takes to defeat these REBELs. This federation is built off the promise of brutality, so we must meet the standard in order to cleanse and rebuild the infrastructure.”

A little puzzled by this answer, Alba’s eyes narrow, and then widen.

Paul Alba: “So, basically, you two aren’t pro-traditional, right?”

Salazar shrugs as Deicide folds his hands onto his lap.

Cesar Salazar: “You know me. I think wrestling should have traditional rules, so if that is a consequence of our solution, that’s fine by me. But no, when we say ‘purify’ – we speak of wanting to rid the tag division of this poor impression of being for the medium talent who’ve yet to discover themselves.”

Deicide: “By defeating Tony Edison and Erik Loomis tonight, and retaining our Undisputed Tag Championships, we’re one step closer to taking this division to the next level: Main Event stature. That’s where we need to elevate these beauties. Because, if the World Heavyweight Championship and our Undisputed Tag Championships were booked on the same card, what would likely happen is the World Heavyweight headlining over us. Why? What makes the singles division more suitable than ours? Not only are Salazar and I world-class athletes that’ve wrestled more than an hour at a time, but we’re equally as marketable as The Phoenix. Actually, fuck, I’ve heard Justin Case was a former REBEL World Champion. There’s no fucking way you can say “it’s more prestigious” when that untalented asshole has claim to that.”

Cesar Salazar: “The Uproars are in the beginning stages of their formation, too. They’re just not ready to carry the burden of being REBEL Tag Champion. This division is in shambles, and we’re the only tag team with purpose, let alone one that really gives a damn what happens to it. In the end, Paul, yes, the Uproars are talented, but what gives us the advantage tonight is more than our bone-breaking mastery: our willful passion.”

Paul Alba: “Sounds ultra.”

With that not-too-subtle, possibly still too-soon dark joke, the segment ends with Deicide holding back a laugh and Salazar shaking his head at Alba.

Got A Lot of Things

“Badass” hits up in the speakers as from the back to a thunderous ovation is Bubba J, the Ragin’ Redneck himself. He’s got a microphone in his hand and is speaking as he walks down the ramp.

“Whats up?!”

The crowd gets louder.

“I need a beer!”

They laugh, but a fan hands him a Natural Light, he opens it up as he walks up the ramp.

“Cheap… but effective!”

The crowd laughs again.

“What the fuck is up in here?!”

He seems taken a back a bit.

“I’m sorry to all the fucking kids, I didn’t mean to say fuck, fuck me I keep saying fuck!”

The crowd laughs, the kids have heard worse I’m sure.

“Anyways, let me get down to the bizness at hand…”

He chugs some beer.

“I got my fucking name back!”

The crowd is loving it.

“I got my damn fucking name back!”

The crowd is even louder.

“I’ve got 2 percent control of Rebel Pro!”

The crowd isn’t letting up.

“It ain’t much but that fat fuck Gordon ain’t got it…”

He lowers and tilts his head to the side.

“Does he?”

They all laugh, he has them in the palm of his hand.

“I also have to do something with this 2 percent, but that is less important right now. I’ve got a couple of other things to talk about.”

He walks around the ring, tossing the beer back and emptying it.

“I’ve got a World Title #1 Contender match later tonight, with a pussy that left this fucking company because he doesn’t have the balls to stand up to real competition!”

The Underground X fans boo at this, but he waves at them.

“Ya’ll support your company, I respect that, just as I think this company is the best, nothing wrong with loyalty… its damn good as a matter of fact.”

He catches a beer from a fan, looks surprised, then pops the top; its a Budweiser.


He belches.

“But I’ve got to find a Tag Team partner as well and with Vinny Black off making homosexual pornos…”

The crowd laughs, they know that Bubba J and Vincent Black are always making stupid jokes with each other.

“I’m left without a partner. So, I’ve got to find someone, or else this shot will be wasted… I don’t like to waste any fucking thing.”

He lights up a cigarette in the middle of the ring.

“But there is even something more important than that and its that sumbitch known as Macca.”

He stops his pacing, staring at the back.

“I want him out here and I want him out here next week. I’ll wait one more week Macca and that is it… or else I’m coming after your ass. You beat me once and I want a chance to… repay the favor… so to speak.”

He belches again, tapping ash on the canvas.

“But for the mean time… Sean Robinson is going to get his whimpy ass whooped!”

“Baddass” hits back up as Bubba J exits the ring to a thunderous ovation.

Wrestling’s Undisputed? Lol, jk!

“Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” plays and Tony Edison walks down to the ring, solo this time. The crowd does adore him, no doubt about it, but he doesn’t seem as into the crowd as usual. He greets them and shows the love, by something seems off. He grabs a microphone, sliding into the ring and his music cuts. The crowd, respecting him, gets quiet right away.

Edison: Love the adoration you guys show to us every week, it means a lot.

Crowd pop, as expected. Cater to them and they love you forever.

Edison: So the Uproars have a huge match tonight, we face off against Wrestling’s Undisputed for the “Disputed” Tag Team Championships. Didn’t take us long in the REBEL system to get something, eh?

Another crowd pop, but I just want to know if Edison is aware that these aren’t really the “top tier” belts in the system.

Edison: So tonight id like to have a bit of a chat before our match with an opponent. So ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our dear friends, Deicide and Cesar Salazar!

The music plays and two men appear on the stage. They look like Salazar and Deicide, but nobody is fooled. People are actually laughing at this display. Suddenly, Erik Loomis comes out dressed in a full suit, sunglasses and all. He grabs the supposed “Salazar” by the wrist, implying that he should be following him back to the back.

Edison: Excuse me, sir, what’s going on? Where are you taking my special guest?

Loomis grabs a microphone.

Loomis: I’m with INS, and am taking this man with me on suspicion of his being an illegal alien. He’s looking at being deported.

Edison: Well, I hate to be one to fight with the government, so if it must be done.

He shrugs as the other man, the supposed “Deicide” makes his way to the ring. He gets in and the two shake hands. Edison gets him a microphone.

Edison: Now Deicide, you’ve been in this business for quite some time, long enough to consider yourself a veteran, right?

Deicide: Yes, that would be accurate.

Edison: Some might even look at you as a “messiah” of sorts?

Deicide nods, actually, looking quite flattered.

Edison: But you have yet to face either myself, or Erik Loomis to date, and I pride myself in saying that we are probably the biggest challenge you have to date

Deicide: Well, I don’t know if I’d–

Edison is facing away from the man now, looking to the crowd, Deicide about two steps behind him.

Edison: Shut your mouth.

And with that said, Edison drops the microphone and does a perfectly executed Pele Kick, cutting the imposter’s story short. He gets back up as Loomis comes out to the ring in his gear.

Edison: We are the best tag team in this business, and when it comes down to it, we will do whatever it takes to win any championship that signifies us as being one of the top tier competitors. So if you want to rant about your God complex, or your intense riches, or that awful Mexican accent that you can’t rid yourself of, then shut up, and show up in this ring to back your shit up. Loomis and I have done everything in our power to get this division back on track, but everybody seems to be getting in our way. Tonight, we’re just ridding REBEL of one more obstacle.

With that Edison drops the microphone to an awesome crowd reaction.

“Disputed” Tag Team Championship Match

The Uproars versus Wrestling’s Undisputed

- No time for proper introductions or back-story this time, because seconds after returning from commercial break, just when the Undisputed (or ‘Disputed’ – Lol not really) Tag Team Champions stepped inside the ring, with the already in-ring Uproars (Tony Edison & Erik Loomis) ready to pounce, Deicide took it upon himself to call Edison a ‘pee wee faggot’, prompting the UX Hall of Famer to strike venomously! Nailing Deicide with a forearm smash, Edison then wheel kicks Salazar over-the-top-rope! Loomis, a bit late to the party, nonetheless scoops a re-gathered Deicide and performs an argentine backbreaker!

- Okay, since Deicide is laid out, courtesy of a spinning spinebuster by Erik Loomis, and Salazar had eaten a disastrous diving Leg Drop that drove him face-first into concrete, thanks to Tony Edison’s top rope aerial, Linzi and Gordon have a few seconds to spare for some insight: The Uproars were being built as the team who could save the UX Tag division from the destructive, unwholesome force of former-archrivals-turned-best-buds, Deicide & Cesar Salazar, but due to Ultra Passion Movement’s shenanigans and subsequent acquisition by Simon Kalis, Underground X folded, thus The Uproars lost that momentum and opportunity. However, Simon Kalis has given the Uproars a chance to claim those UX Undisputed Tag Championships in a final hurrah match before what many spectators predict will be a merger of both REBEL and UX Tag Championships match at an undetermined event.

- Jumping onto the apron and then propelling himself skyward, Edison takes Salazar and himself over the barricade with an electric Asai Moonsault, which receives many lovely chants from the crowd!! Back inside the ring, Deicide has reversed Loomis’s fireman hold into a Crucifix Driver that nearly scored an upset! Meanwhile, outside to Edison and Salazar’s side of action, Tony threw a chair at Salazar, who caught it, only to suffer one hellish spinning heel kick to the steel chair (also known as, Van Daminator!) Returning to Deicide and Loomis, the UX Tag Champion has brought Loomis into a nearby turnbuckle, and is attempting to pull Loomis up onto the top buckle for a powerbomb of sorts! Yet, when Deicide tried for a powerbomb, the Undisputed member slipped, but it was Loomis who caught him and brought ‘The Sacred’ overhead and down to the canvas with a utterly devastating over-the-shoulder belly-to-back piledriver!!!!

Linzi Martin: “WHAT THE BLUE F*CK!?”


Loomis went for the cover, but when former UX referee, now REBEL referee Charlie went to count, Deicide instinctively fucking placed his foot on the fucking bottom rope!! No way in hell that should have happened after such a crushing move, but god damn it, it happened!

- Skipping three minutes forward: super frankensteiner sends Deicide awkwardly into the canvas, to Edison’s delight. Tony dives for a lateral press, but Salazar interferes with a release powerbomb to Erik Loomis, that coincidentally brings Loomis onto a midair Edison’s backside! Now given time to recover, Deicide watches his profound partner, Cesar Salazar, kneel step-over head-hold armbar a face-down Loomis, followed by hooking his leg, but when Edison intervenes, Salazar takes a thrust kick to the side of the head; effectively ending his submission! This compels Deicide to act, leading to a brawl between Edison and Deicide that is eventually taken onto the apron. When they go there, Deicide knees Edison in the gut and jumping spike piledrives Edison off the apron and onto the concrete below for maximum (s)markage!

At the same time, Salazar has performed a brilliant hat trick (seven consecutive vertical suplexes) that concludes in an Indian Deathlock! Erik Loomis holds out for as long as he possibly could, but with no means of escape, Loomis knew when to call it quits. A verbal submission grants Wrestling’s Undisputed victory and a successful title defense, but not an absolute merry crowd. Only some in the audience are delighted by Salazar and Deicide’s victory; others, not so much. Still, “Game of Thrones Main Title” boasts its epic notes, to the Uproars’ disappointment.

Paul Alba, who had been at ringside this enter time, cheering his clients on, takes the Undisputed Championships from ring announcer Jenny Jersey, hands one of them to Deicide and raises his hand triumphantly, while Salazar meets them at the entranceway to receive his belt and also a hand-raise from Paul Alba, too.

[Match: 14 minutes, 58 seconds]

Sean RobinsoWhoCares?

Bubba J, the man sitting in front of the camera on a wooden folding chair, smokes a cigarette and looks for all the world like he doesn’t care.

“I sit here and wonder about you Robinson, does anyone care, do you care, do you have any idea what you’ve been booked in to?”

He sneers.

“In your return you are facing Bubba J…”

He waves a hand in dismissal.

“You may have had a match before now, you may not have, I couldn’t care less because its you Sean Robinson and frankly… who cares?”

He exhales.

“You were once a very promissing talent that could have been inducted into the Extreme Elite… but were too much of a bonefied pussy to stand up to the fucking rigors of having to go at every single thing as hardcore. You’d whimper at the sight of blood, you’d get squeamish when we told you what to do, you were just… pa-fucking-thetic.”

A drag on the cigarette.

“But you went on to find your niche in a federation, a company, a place that is called Underground X.”

He coughs gently.

“But like most everything you are associated with, it went to shit as well. Sean, you are like an STD gotten from a rotten prostitute, something that Mr. Clean turns his head when he comes near. You are worthless, you are less than worthless, you are something that no one wants to be associated with. I don’t know if Simon actually wanted to sign you or if you just had that long left on your contract and they needed bodies to take the beatings that us in Rebel are prone to giving out.”

He snickers.

“You left Robinson, you ran away like a bitch and didn’t bother even to say why. I figured its because you couldn’t handle it here, you were scared, you are a human sized vagina that looks like a man.”

He shivers.

“I’ve seen some others before in my day, but they go by the name of Justin Case.”


“This match is for the right to be immediately put back in the Rebel Pro World Title picture, something I’d like to have, but is just window dressing to make you give a damn about this match. Its something that fishermen, hunters, people like that call bait.”

He looks at the camera, seeing if Sean is interested, as though he could tell.

“Which will make you show up and get the bloody hell beat out of you, because it will have drug you in like a junky looking for a fix even though he knows its killing him one snort at a time.”

He shakes his head.

“The name may be back to Bubba J, but the hardcore asshole never left the fucking building sunshine. I’m not going to say the typical I’m gonna walk in there and stomp a mudhole in your ass and then walk it dry.”

He shakes his head.

“Nope, I’m going to say, that I’m walking in there, beating your ass black, blue, and red. I’m going to fill the building with the squeals of your pain, the whimpering of your voicebox, the cries of your torture…”

He winks as he flicks the cigarette away.

“And its all gonna be legal. But one important thing Sean… I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it.”

He winks.


When In Rome…

The Jumbotron in the newly-rebuilt (and upgraded) UX Arena flickers to life, and Sean Robinson’s face fills the screen. Some minor scarring is apparent from the flames that engulfed the old UX Arena in its final night, but otherwise he’s just as handsome as ever. Among the chorus of boos from the REBEL faithful, some fangirl shrieking can be heard.

“Bubba J… Dale Petty… Whatever he calls himself these days, the big dumb redneck can always rely on one thing: Being totally and completely out of his league in a wrestling ring.

Look at last week’s Aggression, for instance. It took every ounce of energy, determination, and strength he had, just to beat Bobby Lee. The same Bobby Lee who tried to interrupt my REBEL debut. Then he pissed himself.

You let a pisspants retard nearly beat you. And you only won because he punched himself in the sack, and you fell on top of him.”

An incredulous look crosses his face.

“And Kalis trusts you to possibly be the number one contender? He thinks that facing you this week, for a shot at the World Heavyweight Title, is some sort of challenge for me? Does he even know who the fuck I am? Let me tell you exactly who I am.

I am the longest-reigning Undisputed Champion in Underground X history. Longer than both of Jonathan Cage’s reigns put together. Longer than all three of Sinister Fiend’s reigns combined. I’m a UX Hall of Famer. Fuck that, I’m the UX Hall Of Fame. I’m the greatest technical wrestler in the world today.

Last week, while Bubba J was preparing for his hand-picked opponent, I went up against Anna Matthews, the current Aggression champion. My second match in REBEL, against someone that Bubba has had a hell of a time beating in the past, and I tore her apart in twenty minutes. I didn’t just make her tap out. I cut off her air supply, choked the bitch out, and sent her for a long nap.

But I guess that win finally convinced Simon Kalis that I’m the best damn thing going in his company right now. Two weeks ago, I wasn’t on his radar. Last week, I called his punk ass out, then I made his precious little Aggression Champion my bitch. And I must have finally gotten through his thick nignorant skull, because now I’m getting a shot at the World Title. Right after I beat this dropout from “Cletus’s House Of Waffles n Wrasslin”. This is the kind of booking that goes on here in REBEL? You put your most athletically gifted talent into a deathmatch, and expect to draw a crowd?

Here I am: A perfectly tuned Ferrari in a demolition derby.”

The camera zooms out, and his upper body comes into view. Cue more fangirl squeee. His hands are clasped behind his back.

“Simon Kalis thinks that if he puts me into a match like this, I’ll be so far out of my element that Bubba J has no problem beating me. He thinks that I can’t hold my own in a deathmatch. And maybe he has a point. UX wasn’t known for any of those old-fashioned ideals like ‘rules’ or ‘honor’, but it wasn’t all about blood and guts, either. There was a happy medium there. The hardcore had their fun, and so did the purists like myself. And now I come to REBEL, where the word of the day is violence. Perhaps I’m out of my element. Maybe I’m not ready for the ultraviolent style that the fans in REBEL expect on a weekly basis. They love their kendo sticks, their light tubes, their flaming tables. And I’m more into crisp suplexes, sharp chops, and deadly-accurate dropkicks.

But I’ve learned a few things during my time at the top of the game. One of those things is adaptability. I’m nothing if not flexible. There’s a saying here in Vegas. It comes from the large latino community. Donde fueres, haz lo que vieres..”

His hands come out from behind his back, and the fans erupt as they see what he holds. His right hand, used previously to deliver lightning-quick jabs, is wrapped with tape, doused in glue, and then covered in shards of broken glass. In his left hand, he holds a Louisville Slugger, wrapped with glistening razor wire.

“When in Rome…”

The picture fades to black as the trademark Robinson smirk greets REBEL for the first time.

Number One Contenders DEATH Match for the REBEL Pro World Championship

Bubba J versus Sean Robinson

- So we can finally call Bubba J by the name we all know him best by, which is great, but what would be better is seeing the former REBEL World Champion become the number one contender for Phoenix’s World Championship! And since this is a deathmatch, odds are certainly stacked in the Ultraviolent Icon’s favor. All he has to do is beat the widely-acclaimed ‘Greatest Wrestler Today’, Sean Robinson. The same Sean Robinson whose epic ‘tiger driver’ drove Kevin Holiday through the roof of a rusty car in UX’s infamous ‘Parking Lot Brawl’ match, drove eWo Legend, Reno Drake, off the very top of a ladder and into the ring canvas, and shelved multiple wrestlers (Jonathan Fhenix, ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson and Johnny Chainz) by means of his torturous ligament-tearing, bone-breaking methods! Regardless of this being a deathmatch, to paraphrase Sean Robinson, he’s adaptable, but if Bubba J can defeat him, that is serious claim, though vice-versa effect.

- One fist taped yet covered atop this tape is glued shards whilst the other hand wields a Louisville slugger coated with freshly-made barbwire, sharp to the touch. These fists are attached to Sean Robinson, who clearly is bringing all his hardcore craziness tonight, but Bubba J (who only has a Singapore cane) apparently does not give any fuck. A lit cigarette stuck to Bubba’s lips is being inhaled coolly as the bionic roughneck eggs Robbo on. Amusing Bubba’s confidence, Sean comes out twirling the baseball bat as Bubba stands still. When Sean swings, Bubba catches the bat with one hand! Albeit the barbwire slices open Bubba’s hand, Bubba nevertheless devilishly grins to Sean’s awe, and then slaps him upside the head repeatedly with the kendo stick!

- Falling backward onto his ass, Robinson holds onto his aching head in full defense mode, but Bubba has dropped the Singapore cane to equip himself with that barbwire slugger, instead! First kicking Robinson in the face, thus Sean whips backward once more to lie completely out, Bubba swings the baseball bat as if it were a wood (golf club) for the bat not only to harshly blast Robinson in his ribcage but as result, the barbwire invades into Robinson’s skin rather rape!! Howling in pain, Robinson begins to roll his self away, but Bubba brings the bat overhead and slams it once more into Robinson, this time hitting his spine!

- Bleeding from the nose, and from pierced skin along the left-side ribs and backside, Robinson already struggles to stand, but assistance from Bubba J, who is now also on the apron, quickens Sean’s pace. Though not what he had in mind, Sean is forced against the ropes after five rough jabs to the damage ribs sustain him, and then, Bubba’s arms wrap around Sean’s waist. Robinson knew what would come, so desperately fought back with elbows to Bubba’s head, but Bubba drove his fist so hard in Robinson’s ribcage, Sean temporarily ceased all action on his end, which is all Bubba needed to pull backward for an overhead belly-to-back suplex that sent Robinson through the announcer’s table!!! If Robinson weren’t too busy being in tremendous pain, this is where he chants, “THIS IS WRESTLING” though no one needs to fear, Fans have got that covered for him!!

Linzi Martin: “OH DEAR GAAAAAWD!!”


Linzi Martin: “Oh Fu**! Larry, this doesn’t look good. Robinson needs medical attention!”


- Walking along the debris of his handiwork, Bubba J eyes Larry Gordon with a wicked grin and two middle fingers to salute! Naturally, Fans absolutely devour Bubba’s awesomeness through chants of ‘Welcome Back’ and ‘Thank You, J!’

Linzi Martin: “No, Bubba J hasn’t gone anywhere, folks. I think Fans here are welcoming back the name, the spirit of Bubba J!”

Scooping Robinson off his bloody back, Bubba rams the alleged ‘Greatest Wrestler Today’ into the ring post once, and then shoves his carcass inside the ring. Placing both hands on top of Robinson’s barely pumping chest, Bubba J watches Referee John Chellios (LOLOLOL – Yes, the former UX wrestler / icon) initiate the count, but shockingly, Robinson lifts a leg onto the bottom rope! Chellios nearly counted the three without noticing it, but Chellios’s lazy-eye managed to catch a glimpse, fortunately for Robbo!

- Nodding in respect, as Bubba is prone to do in these types of scenarios, the Trailer Park Phenomenon grabs Robinson by the nape of his neck, pulling him onto his feet, but in the midst of this double standing, Robinson effectively uppercuts Bubba with that Taipei fist of glued, broken glass! Blow by blow, Robinson slices Bubba’s skin open in sections of the jaw, chest, stomach, right arm, and concludes by stealing and executing Bubba’s signature seated three-quarter facelock jawbreaker (Trailer Park Trash / Stunner)!! Bubba shoots upward after Robinson’s interpretation of the stunner, but coincidentally lands against the turnbuckles, to automatically stand him upon touching canvas. However, Robinson knocks Bubba twice more in the cheek, tearing Bubba open rather gruesomely, and transitions into a – you fucking guessed it –


Hooking a badly bloodied Bubba J’s leg, a somehow-even-worse bloodied Robinson collapses onto Bubba for Referee John Chellios to count the one-two-three! So many fans are breathless from surprise or excitement, that hearing ‘Amazing (Heartbeats Remix)” by Kanye West blare, is almost surreal. Two minutes ago, nobody would have predicted this outcome.


Linzi Martin: “Sean Robinson has earned the right to face The Phoenix for the REBEL World Heavyweight Championship at ‘Merry Time Massacre’!”

Sean Robinson madly laughs in relief, despite not capable of standing or even sitting upward. But his fellow Wrestling’s Undisputed mates (Paul Alba, Cesar Salazar & Deicide) come out in celebration. While Fans make sure to announce their very mixed reaction to Robinson’s win, Deicide & Salazar hoist a much bloodied Sean Robinson onto their shoulders as Paul Alba is yelling at the cameraman and viewers at home, “LOOK AT YOUR NEXT WORLD CHAMPION, CUNTS! HE IS GREATNESS, HE IS REBELLIOUS, AND HE IS UNDISPUTED!” That takes us into a quick commercial break.

[Match: 8 minutes, 36 seconds]

Stoopid Different Segment!

This is a sea of static, a sea of sorrow, a land beyond time. We have somehow slipped through the cracks of the mind of William Shatner as he scratches the lid of his pine box furiously. He is not dead and nether is his career. But in the sun’s eye, he might as well be. What we’re seeing and how we’re seeing it depends on the beholder. Is that a donut or a lifesaver? It could be a parachute or nothing at all really. Maybe I’m making this up as I go along, the way I used to do. Or maybe you’re making it up for me. It doesn’t seem to matter much. The bottom line is we are here. In Vegas. And Anna is outside the Underground Arena, looking at it but not really looking. Wasn’t this place blown up?

PuppetLiza: Ummm…I think Simon rebuilt it.

Silly Puppet. You’re adhering to a possible canon. That never works. The warehouse was torn down too, but they retconned that shit. I’m sure it still gives Holiday fits. Allow us to make a more plausible theory. A TARDIS and a Waybac machine collided and subsequently reverse the damage. It also brought back the dead. See them zombies? They’re still coming to see the show. Poor bastards. But why just stand here? Why not say hello?

Anna Mathews: Cuz diff’rent arenas haz diff’rent vibrashuns depending awn the circumstances.

Like holy ground.

Anna Mathews: Xactly. Yif won does not throughlee prepare four the soaked in memories of the building, they will cum across a rather roode awakening.

PuppetLisa: Since when did you get all spiritual?

Since we learned how this works. Eyes dart as everything seems to breathe at the same time. The foundation inhales and exhales on its own. The zombies glance at each other, confused. As if they’re trying to remember if this had happened before. The sky darkens suddenly, forcing lights to glitter past. Walking to the door is methodical. Mindfulness in each step with a steel focus. Swish. The gate of hell open with ease. Before she could take a step inside, a grin dances across the Aggression champion’s face.

(Helloooooo Underground! I see you hav plentee ov generic mofo’s inn ur lifetimes.)

Glimpses appear. Paxton. Robinson. Edison and Loomis. Or is it Loomis and Edison?

(Whatevs. Interchangible fucks wit no reel substance. Decent looking guys wif decent moves, only one ov wish had enuff stroke frum the hype machine to win big shinys inn ur beloved company. Mazeltov. Still doesn’t matter too me. I doan’t have the tyme to try to prove myself two anybuddy.

Well, acktualy, I do. But it’d be a wasted effort on my part. Ya see, I dunno if you kno this. But I’m won of the workhorses of Rebel Pro. Dis would be what? The second time aye’ve competeted for two titles? With any luk, it’d alsew be the second tyme I snagged both.)

Indeed. Hey look, it’s Three Drink Minimum having a party.

(Onlee three azza staring point, Cuntster? I am disappoint. Make et twelve. Or nineteen. I luv nineteen.)

A ghostly Johnny Cage appears from nowhere saying nothing of relevance other than he’s a REBEL. He smears his face paint around and pretends to be serious.

(Sure, I’s lyke ta play a game. Just not with you. Booooooring! Cereal, the hells is up with him and the paint? Ultimate WARYAH wood be ashamed. No buddy care abowt the eWo. Knot even the peeps that work there. Shut up! Und bi the way, ur a “REBEL” by name only. Annibody can cents that.)

A dead cow lies to the side…

(Poor moo cow.)

…and in the charbroiled heart of things, a wrestling ring. The zombie fans have gather to their spots in the arena. Crows laugh from the outside while smoking cigarettes. Time abruptly stood still. A gander up to a roof stretched beyond its limits, a part of one colossal noodle. We loves noodles bathed in sauce and blood and muppet stuff. The grin returns.

Anna Mathews: Oh, yesh. Sooooo gonna like it here!~

One of the spotlights falls from the sky and lands just a few feet away.

(Still needs repairs tho.)

Fade out, assholes!

A True Son of the Confederacy

(The scene is at an old 1850′s Southern plantation in the Deep South where we see a tall, lanky man with long brown hair and a full beard wearing an all-white suit complete with white Oxford shoes, a black bolo tie, and a white cowboy hat with black trim standing in front of a cotton field in the foreground with an arrogant smirk etched on his face as we hear the heavy metal version of the “1812 William Tell Overture” in the background as he begins to speak.)

Mystery Man: ‘Dere is an old, antiquated term that goes along the lines of “Money is th’ root of all th’ e-vul in ‘dis world…”

The man silently chuckles to himself upon hearing this expression.

Mystery Man: My, oh my, how ‘dis is true! Y’all see here, for those un-educated yokels who are blissfully unaware of my name, my name is Ambrose Ulysses Beauregarde, a true “Son Of The Confederacy”, ‘de “Dixieland Delight Of The Night”, ‘de “Pride Of The Southland”… well, y’all get my point. Anyway, as a highly educated individual from “THE University of Mississippi”, not to mention being born with a rather sizeable silver spoon inserted into my mouth, one could say that I was born and bred for success. Whatever I didn’t earn, Momma and Poppa Beauregarde would buy for me, no questions asked. If I wanted a pool, they would build me a rather exquisite Olympic-sized swimming pool lined with marble. If I wanted any classic car, no demand was too unrealistic for my family. While all ‘de other youth in high school were driving dumpy cars to school, I’d show up in a different classic car every day just to rub it in those ruffians’ faces just how filthy rich my family truly is, while ‘de other kids are just plain filthy.

Beauregarde continues to smirk as he continues.

Ambrose Ulysses Beauregarde: In school, I had my share of tormentors who were quite jealous of my natural prowess in wealth and inherited athletic ability and pleasing chivalric behavior to the women-folk. But what y’all uneducated yokels fail to understand is that, while being rather gentlemanly toward the women, I had the brash swagger and innate athletic talent

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on the football field & in the amateur ‘rasslin’ ranks to back it up. That’s why comin’ to this savage land of ungentlemanly-like behavior, y’all need a man like Ambrose Ulysses Beauregarde to give this place some class it sorely lacks an’ bring wrestling spelled “W-R-E-S-T-L-I-N-G” back to the forefront. Some may view me as a snob, but I’m not. I’m merely better than all of y’all. Ambrose Ulysses Beauregarde, at your service.

The screen then freezes and turns into sepia tone with the words “Ambrose Ulysses Beauregarde” written in an exquisite black cursive font on the screen, with the words “Coming Soon to REBEL Pro…” below his name as the scene fades out back to ringside…

REBEL Pro Aggression Championship Match

Jonathan Cage versus Anna Mathews©

The lights dim as we hear some white noise over the PA system. Then as the white noise cuts out, a voice comes over the speakers.

“Wanna by Vid-Saver” href=”#” in_rurl=”″play a game?”

Then the lights come on instantly as “Forget to Remember” by Mudvayne blasts through the speakers. And standing at the top of the ramp is Jonathan Cage. He stares out at the crowd for a few moments before walking down to the ring. He slides in and goes to the far corner. He climbs and does his open hand crucifix pose for the crowd. He drops down and waits for his opponent. “Forget to Remember” fading away.

Larry Gordon: Jonothan looks ready for this matchup and the chance to win the Rebel Pro Aggression Title.

“This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us” hits up in the speakers and squirrels are running around all over the place, but Anna is already in the ring, handing her belt off to Jenny Jersey, who lovingly displays it for the crowd.

Ding Ding

Jonothan and Anna tie-up into a FIRM collar and elbow. They jockey for position, grunting, grimacing, neither able to gain the advantage. They’re locked
tight, like two pit-bulls, the strain showing in their arms and shoulders. Anna maneuvering Jonothan toward the ropes, Jonothan turns around, still neither into the ropes, Jimmy Johnson watching closely. Jonothan and Anna both drop to their bellies, still locked on, and slide to the outside. They’re on the
floor… still warring over a collar-and-elbow tie up! Neither will give way to the other! Their path takes them around a corner of the ring, and then…

Linzi Martin: Neither willing to admit they are a bit weaker.

Larry Gordon: Both need this first advantage.

Both end up back inside, still in the tie-up! They maneuver back to center ring, where both competitors violently break the hold.


Screw it.


Anna chops Jonothan HARD.


Jonothan chops Anna HARD.

WHAM! Anna with a headbutt staggers Jonothan into a corner. Anna begins UNLOADING WITH CHOPS. thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud THUD, Jonothan’s
face showing the pain… until finally, with a burst of frustrated energy, Jonothan grabs Anna by the ears and spins her around, changing positions. Now
it’s Cage’s turn!


thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud Kick to the thigh. Anna fighting intelligently to get the advantage. Her chest is already glowing a bright red as Cage’s chops broke open blood vessels. Jonothan’s chest, also shows red welts forming, but Anna takes Jonothan over
with a vicious snap suplex, then floats over into a mount. She starts pounding away on Jonothan, who tries to cover up. Anna with no signs of stopping.

So Jimmy Johnson gets in Anna’s face urging her off of Jonothan.

Linzi Martin: Oh come on, the official can’t get involved like that!

Larry Gordon: The official can do what he deems necessary to enforce the rules, and Anna wasn’t breaking away from Jonothan. I, for one, intend to start making Rebel Pro more civilized.

Linzi Martin: You can’t, you aren’t majority owner anymore.

Larry Gordon: Shut up, who asked you?

Anna looks furious, but Jimmy Johnson isn’t about to be cowed by her. Anna grabs Jonothan… Jonothan with a shot to the breadbasket! Point of the elbow to the
back of the head! Jonothan takes Anna down with a Fireman’s carry, then begins driving his knees into Anna’s back. No doubt setting her up later fora submission hold. A few more of those and Jonothan’s anger gets the better of him, and he just begins to choke out Anna. Jimmy Johnson comes in with a concerned and bit motherly look for Anna’s safety. Once again, Jimmy Johnson refuses to allow the wrestler’s to just do as they please, physically getting involved by getting in Jonothan’s face. Jonothan’s eyes are wide, nostrils
flaring as Jimmy Johnson simply shakes his head. Don’t even try it. Jonothan grabs Anna, vertical suplex with authority. Leg drop connects, makes a cover.



Linzi Martin: Close call there.

Larry Gordon: Slow count.

Anna kicks out. Jonothan pulls Anna up, hooking a Sambo Suplex — elbows from the Puppet Master, she ducks behind Jonothan, German suplex. Jonothan has it well-scouted, refusing to allow Anna to fully lock on the German suplex. He spins out, snapmaring Anna down to the canvas. Off the ropes, flipping neck snap! Perfectly executed! Then FUJIWARA ARMBAR! Anna quickly gets to the ropes and trying to get leverage to break the hold. Anna manages to get up a bit of leverage, a bit more, doing her best to… she’s got the hold broken!

Linzi Martin: Ther e is no quit in Anna Mathews!

Larry Gordon: Shut up Linzi, just shut up!

Linzi Martin: I don’t have to and you don’t have the power to make me.

Jonothan grunts and gets up, pulling Anna up — Anna headbutts Jonothan in the gut! Another headbutt! And that’s enough of an opening for Anna to hit a Northern Lights Suplex!




Jonothan gets out, Anna’s turn to snapmare Jonothan over. Off the ropes, Anna hits a diving forearm to the seated Jonothan. He goes down on his back. With
Jonothan down, Anna hooks the legs in a stepover… hooking in a figure four submission hold applied, but Jonothan is able to make it to the ropes this time and begins to work for his own leverage..

Linzi Martin: Anna trying to weaken the legs of Jonothan here.

Larry Gordon: Smart move, but it can fail.

Jonothan digs himself to the outside, causing tremendous pressure for Anna’s legs, which causes her to release the hold, he falls to the outside floor.

Linzi Martin: As we expected, neither wrestler able to gain any clear advantage. So far it has been move for move, hold for hold, each with a period of dominance
but unable to sustain it.

Larry Gordon: Two masters at work, Linzi. You should just sit there and enjoy it. You know, without talking.

Linzi Martin: For now, neither is getting a sustained advantage and no weapons are involved, but how long will that last?

Anna stands there, Cage pulls her outside, she falls there with a thump, but nails Cage with a vicious elbow strike before rolling him back inside as he’s a bit loopy from the temple shot. Anna pulls Jonothan up and puts him against the ropes. A chop, then an irish whip. Jonothan reverses! Anna goes flying right into the referee! Was that an
“accident?” Maybe. Maybe not. But you know what?

Jimmy Johnson was able to duck out of the way.

Linzi Martin: Jimmy able to avoid a nasty collision.

Anna, however, is momentarily distracted, and that allows Jonothan to pick her up for a back suplex, driving her down hard on her back and neck. Jonothan pulls
Anna up, talking a little trash, then slapping Anna in the back of the head. Jonothan pulls Anna’s arm across her throat, what’s this? SUPLEX! Unique
belly-to-back suplex there, Anna landing right on her head. Jonothan then stands in a ready stance, slightly crouched, right fist cocked. Anna slowly
gets up, staggered, and Jonothan waits, waits, waits…


NO! Anna falls down and rolls to the outside, avoiding a potential match-ending blow right there. Anna out. Jonothan decides he can’t wait anymore and slides out the other side. Jonothan circles around, coming right for Anna…
drop toe-hold from Anna! Jonothan hits the floor hard, coming up holding his nose. Anna with a stiff kick to the ribs of Jonothan, and then she grabs the

Oh hell.

Anna holds both arms behind Jonothan, plants her foot on the back of his head, and


On the floor.

Anna falls to one knee, gasping for a bit of breath as Jonothan moans on the floor.
Jonothan trying to get up…

Linzi Martin: You go honey, what a stomp there.

Larry Gordon: It was kind of vicious, even for a woman.

Anna trying to get up.

He’s clutching at the apron…

Linzi Martin: Both trying to get up, its been a fast paced match here for the Aggression Title.
She’s clutching at the railing.
Larry Gordon: About time it was defended to, Simon has let this company go to shit.

Jonothan makes it back to his feet!

Anna is up to her feet!

Cage with a roundhouse kick to her knee, sending her down, a vicious shin to the face rolls her over the railing and into the first row. Cage seems to be seeing red as he punishes Anna with kick after kick, forearm after forearm. Anna scrambles, trying to get back to a vertical base. Anna rolls away from one kick, swinging her legs around sending Cage down onto his back. Cage rolls over, Anna is up as well. Anna with a leaping front kick to his face sends him staggering back and over the railing to the ringside area.

Linzi Martin: What a shot!

Larry Gordon: She probably got lucky, she’s had plenty of rest.
Anna hops the railing as Jonothan begins to get back up.But to reward Jonothan for his tenacity, Anna kicks him in the face. Jonothan pulled up slowly, Anna gets behind and delivers a
headbutt to the back of Jonothan’s head, then a GERMAN SUPLEX. Release! Jonothan is in a bad way here, and Anna senses defeat. She climbs to the top rope…

Diving Flipping Headbutt!
Nobody home!

Linzi Martin: That has got to hurt.

Larry Gordon: She headbutted concrete! I heard a ringing sound, her head must be empty.

The crowd is into this match. Some are pulling for Anna, some Jonothan, most are just wrapped up in the contest
and hoping their favorite kicks the other’s ass at some point. However, right now, both wrestlers are down and Jimmy Johnson looks on, his job is to make sure that neither’s health comes in to question. He’s checking on Anna on the outside of the ring.

Both wrestlers grabbing the nearest solid object to help them up…

They’re both up!

Linzi Martin: Anna is pouring blood from a wound on her forehead!

Larry Gordon: And these fans are extatic! I saw one dip a napkin in her blood, probably going to sell it on Ebay.

Linzi Martin: That was you Larry, I saw you do it.

Cage spins Mathews around, chop to the chest, a second, a third, and a fourth backs her up against the railing. Cage lifts her up, brainbuster onto the concrete floor.

Larry Gordon: There goes that ringing sound again.

Linzi Martin: Shut up Larry, no one likes you.

Cage seems to be in firm control as he sets up a table on the outside of the ring.

Linzi Martin: Here comes the weapons.

Cage sets up all kinds of goodies on the table, chairs, bottles from fans, and finishes it off with a bag of tacks opened up on the table. But he’s not finished yet, he pulls a ladder out from under the ring and sets it up as well; then douses the table in lighter fluid then sparks a match setting it ablaze!


Larry Gordon: Roast that turky myboy!

Cage pulls Anna up the ladder, setting her up for a fireman’s carry slam onto the burning debris and landing on top of her to drive the point in deep.

Larry Gordon: There they go!

Linzi Martin: Anna moves!

Both go crashing through the blazing table, laying there and fans can hear flesh sizzling and smell the scent of burnt hair as they lay there unable to move. Jimmy Johnson dives outside, hurriedly putting the fire out with a small extinguisher, but the smell still lingers after the fire is put out and he is at a loss as what to do; because this is the main event. He looks at both wrestlers, neither moving and goes to call for the bell, but there is a twitch from both of them similtaneously.

Linzi Martin: These are two tough individuals!

Larry Gordon: You ain’t shittin’ me!

After about three minutes, the fans are very willing to wait, they are both on their knees and then even slower up to their feet. Anna stumbles towards the ring, shoving herself in, Cage follows because both are being encouraged by Jimmy Johnson to finish it up in the ring or he’ll call the match.

Linzi Martin: Can he do that?

Larry Gordon: Of course he can.

Linzi Martin: I wasn’t asking you, it was a retorical question… asshole.

Anna gets the first shot, Jonothan still quite dazed from the fall. She whips Jonothan to the ropes, hits the opposite ropes, looking for a lariat!
Jonothan ducks!

Anna turns around

Larry Gordon: A perfectly placed uppercut!

Anna goes down in a heap, Jonothan collapsing himself. Jonothan pulls himself over Anna!




No no no no

Anna barely gets the shoulder up. Jonothan shakes some more cobwebs loose, and then looks out to the crowd. He makes a “snapping” motion with his hands and
yells “Time to make her humble!” Jonothan stands over top of a rising Anna, throwing some crossface shots into Anna’s face before locking on a camel clutch. He has Anna in the center of the ring, the hold cinched in! The part of the crowd behind Jonothan is chanting “TAP TAP TAP!”

Anna yells in pain.

Linzi Martin: Anna has a high tolerance for pain.

Larry Gordon: But how long can she hold out?

Jimmy Johnson asks her “DO YOU GIVE? Anna DO YOU GIVE?”

Jonothan, eyes wide, yells a guttural yell, no words, just base emotion.

Anna tries to struggle, tries to crawl as best she can with her arms trapped, trying to inch sideways, to get a foot on the rope… she’s so close… but
not there! Inches away! Anna’s face is showing tremendous pain! She almost looks like she’s going to scream “YES I QUIT”… but with one final effort,
manages to flip herself over, breaking the submission hold!

Linzi Martin: What tenacity!

Linzi Martin: Jonothan needs to watch his temper! This is one referee you don’t want to mess with, he has no problems calling for a disqualification.

Larry Gordon: And Anna is one opponent you don’t want to give any advantage to!

Jonothan quickly disciplines himself and grabs Anna. He hooks an inverted facelock and climbs up to the 2nd turnbuckle, sitting on top. Jonothan looks out…
then flips forward to jar Anna’s jaw on his shoulder. Jonothan covers Anna!




Not yet Not Yet Not Yet

Foot under the ropes, Johnson just saw it!

Cage is furious, yelling and shoving Johnson that this is Rebel Pro! Johnson, getting pissed, explains that no submission nor pinfall will take place in the ropes!

Linzi Martin: You want to talk about ring awareness, how did Anna have any idea where she was?

Larry Gordon: She didn’t she was just lucky is all; she’s out.

Jonothan whips Anna into the turnbuckle and charges in with a big lariat. Anna sags, and Jonothan whips his opponent out to the other side. Another
charge… Anna slings through the ropes and Jonothan’s momentum takes him between the turnbuckles, shoulder into the steel post! Anna on the outside
grabs his arms, plants her foot on the ring apron, and then PULLS for all she is worth, trying to pull Jonothan’s arms out of their sockets! Jimmy Johnson tells
Anna to get off her man in the ropes, because a submission can’t take place like that. Anna just lets go. She doesn’t care about the referee, but she does want to win this match and retain her title! Jonothan sags back into the ring, holding his left shoulder in pain. Anna gets in… and goes for a FUJIWARA ARMBAR!

Linzi Martin: That’s a smart move.

Larry Gordon: She is going to dislocate his arm!

Jonothan yells in pain as Anna looks to tap the man out with her submission move! Jonothan can see the ropes, but they are feet away. He bites his fist, groaning in
pain, Anna’s part of the crowd chanting “TAP TAP TAP!” Jimmy Johnson checks in, Jonothan yelling “no no no no!” Can he hold out much longer? He tries to shift his body, Anna moving as he goes, not letting loose on the hold. Jonothan stretches his leg out… out…

He raises his free hand!



Jonothan makes a fist and makes a final lunge, getting his foot on the bottom rope. Jimmy Johnson tells Anna that she can’t win by submission at this point in the match, pointing to Cage’s hand.Anna simply stares at him.

Anna is OFF OF Cage!

Anna is furious now, ripping a verbal strip out of Johnson. Jimmy gives it right back, telling Anna that a submission can’t take place when the damn man is in
the ropes! Anna forces herself to ignore Jimmy Johnson and turns back to Jonothan, who is holding his arm in pain. Anna pulls the man up… Tazmission!

Larry Gordon: Jonothan is near the ropes.

Jonothan pushes off, landing on top of Anna, whose shoulders are down!



Anna kicks out! Jonothan slowly gets up, but Anna grabs him. OH NO!

Linzi Martin: Mandala Hineri!

Anna covers!




Larry Gordon: Foot on the ropes! Foot on the ropes! By God Almighty Jonothan got his foot on the ropes!

Linzi Martin: Back and forth, back and forth, the momentum swinging back and forth in this contest! And Anna is NOT happy about that count!

No, she’s not. Anna is snarling at Jimmy Johnson about it being a slow count, that it was OVER. she goes to shove Jimmy Johnson. Johnson doesn’t lift a hand towards
Anna, he’s bent on this being called fair and square. Anna spits at him. Still no reaction. Fine, Anna scoffs. She picks up Jonothan, and hooks him
for ANOTHER Mandala Hineri! No, Jonothan gets out, behind Anna, GRABS THE LEGS! WHEELBARROW SUPLEX — No! Annna manages to land on her feet, HEADBUTT to
Jonothan. Pick-up, perching Jonothan on the top rope? Anna climbs up. She’s going for a top rope spinning head scissors!

Larry Gordon: Top Rope super spinning head scissors!

Jonothan fighting the top rope move! Anna hits him with another headbutt, and tries to hook it, Jonothan holds onto the top rope to block. Jonothan throws an elbow into Anna, another, another, Anna almost falling back but grabbing the top ropes herself… Jonothan hooks Anna and lifts her up, dropping her flat to the canvas! Anna rolls over, moaning in pain, and Jonothan leaps off the top rope!

Anna rolls over and springs back up, nailing her Boomerfly Kick!(A butterfly kick aimed at the top rope. The “attacking” foot bounces off the rope, causing more momentum as the feet switch positions launching into the actual kick.)

Linzi Martin: Boomerfly Kick!





Ding Ding Ding Ding

Jenny Jersey: Winner of the match and STIIIIIIIILL Rebel Pro Aggression Champion… Anna Mathews!

Anna receives both her belts before slumping in the corner and the belts landing in her lap.

Burn It All

The backstage camera man is being sneaky tonight. Either that or he’s afraid of what will happen if he gets caught. Regardless, he’s just walked up a hallway and slowly cracked open a door. Inside the room is the REBEL Pro World champion, the Phoenix. His back is mostly to the camera, but we can see enough of his mask to know it’s him. That and from the voice that we all recognize from PWA Radio. He’s talking on the phone to someone. Sadly, he isn’t aware he’s being recorded so he hasn’t done us the courtesy of putting the call on speaker phone.

The Phoenix: I’ve made the decision, the plan is going to start moving forward. I think we’ve given them plenty of time to change and they haven’t done it. So we’ll have to destroy the AOWF with fire and rebuild it in our image.

The Phoenix: No, I did say our image, didn’t I? Never think for one minute that I undervalue you. What we’re going to do, how we’re going to change the world, I couldn’t do any of it without you.

The Phoenix: Come on, you know me better than that. I’m the goddamn Phoenix, I don’t need to kiss anybody’s ass, not even yours. But you and me, we’re going to make history. Well, you, me and the other guy.

The Phoenix: Oh, I haven’t offered him anything. Yet. Think of him as our proof of concept. First we destroy him, then we rebuild him.

The Phoenix: He’s close to his breaking point, that’s pretty obvious. I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve that ought to finish him off.

The Phoenix: Clever man. Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve got planned. Once that’s done, he’ll be in. And then the three of us will tear through REBEL Pro and the PWA and there’s not a damn person that can stop us.

The camera man beats a hasty retreat, wisely realizing that overhearing stuff like that is how you get beaten with a barbed wire baseball bat.

Fuck Rob Robinson

Fading backstage, we see Simon Kalis smoking a Newport and watching the events of the evening go on through the prism of his large flat screen in Salvatore D’Aquila’s old office. He turns around to look toward his old friend and neighborhood coward, Jeremy Gold.

Jeremy Gold: You know, you’ve still got time to do it. Make this match with Macca for the REBEL Pro World title. See The Phoenix burn, Simon!!!

Gold nods, huge smile showing the satisfaction he has with his idea. Simon flicks some ash away and shakes his head.

Simon Kalis: Whatever The Phoenix plans, he’ll begin it here in REBEL Pro most certainly. It was good getting that camera into his locker room, but even knowing he’s got some scheme going on I can’t throw him under the bus yet.

Jeremy Gold: Well think about it! If Macca wins, we’d see Sean Robinson versus Macca next month! The ratings!!!!

Kalis nods, but then shakes his head.

Simon Kalis: I want Rob Robinson to be feel a sting greater than Macca can give him. I think Robinson versus Robinson will play out well, and I don’t doubt Sean Robinson’s ability to dethrone this feathery faggot we have as our REBEL Champion. Macca can, and probably will, straight whoop The Phoenix’s ass. But Jeremy, that won’t hurt Phoenix as much as being totally out classed in the ring by someone he probably feels is unworthy to be in the ring with him.

Jeremy Gold: But Macca might lose. And so might Sean.

Simon puts his cigarette out and smiles.

Simon Kalis: Maybe. I doubt it, but anything’s possible. Someday soon though Jer, Mr. Robinson will be on his knees watching everything he’s accomplished wither from his hands. And I plan to be there to see him put out of his misery.

Simon spins his chair around, the only thing missing is a black cat for him to be petting as we fade out to…

Natures Mythical Loser

My first super card. Against the companies top billed champion. The championship however is not on the line. Does anyone else see the problem here?

Macca is currently walking down the back corridors of his old stomping grounds, the UX arena, as a camera shuffles backwards while focusing on the cunster. Let’s hope he doesn’t fall over How fucking funny would it be if he fell over while Macca was getting all serious and shit. lawl.

Is this supposed to be some sort of Simon Kalis or Larry Gordon my dick is bigger than yours bullshit about REBEL being the better company than UX? Try and job out one of the greatest UX stars to your current champion? Fuck this shit off for a joke! By their logic it is appropriate that I get to face the champion in a non title shot instead of getting a number one contenders spot over a. Bubba J, The guy I fucking defeated in my debut or b. over Sean Robinson who seems to get a shot just by pulling a Booker T and saying he is coming for Rob Robinson nigga and then beating a jobber! Well guess what Robbo, this isn’t wrestling this is just fucking bullshit!


I don’t blame Robbo or Bubba though. It’s not their fault that incompetence has put them in the number one contenders match over me, no that fault lies completely with REBEL management. But in a way I guess I should thank REBEL management. Why would I do that you ask? It’s because in times like this, situations where I get fucked over and pissed off that I really begin to fucking shine. Salvatore D’Aquila can tell you that himself. I plan to turn this negative into a positive.

The camera comes to a violent halt for a moment as Macca walks past. The camera quickly turn for a moment to – HA! He walked into a fucking pillar. Dopey prick!

Unfortunately for our esteemed champion however it means that I will have to use him as a means to get my message across. Out of all the mythical creatures that man has made, Rob Robinson had to pick the only one that is a natural loser as his gimmick. Do you know why a Phoenix needs to be reborn out of ashes Rob? It’s because somebody always gets the better of it. Somebody is always able to best the legendary fire bird and give it a reason to need to be reborn. I don’t need to be reborn Rob because I simply don’t lose.

Macca finally comes to a halt outside of a door that has a name plate on it that looks to read Salvatore D’Aquila that has crudely been drawn over in permanent marker to say Macca. He opens the door before turning to face the camera again.

Luckily for you Phoenix I happen to be a nice one and shall help you live up to your name. At the end of our match I plan to have sent a message to management by beating you so bad that you will be nothing more than a pile of ashes left in the middle of that ring. To your horror, however, when your rebirth flame is done burning and you are standing in that ring once more you will again see me, this time however I will be the number one contender and will actually be able to go after your gold. Then once more after that match you shall become ashes once again. Cheers that, cunts!

And with that Macca enters the room and closes the door behind him.

Non-Title Match

Macca versus The Phoenix

- On one end, you’ve got the Phoenix; current REBEL World Heavyweight Champion and AoWF World Heavyweight Champion, who happens to loathe being owner of one of those straps, but could use a win over Macca, an Undisputed Champion in his own right, to further an image of Champion. However, opposite of the masked double cunt(or champ, whichever ‘C’ word you find truer), as said before, Macca has won everything relevant in UX – but as of right now, his only claim to REBEL fame is defeating Bubba J two weeks ago, at Bubba’s own game. A win over Bubba J is a noteworthy feat, because he’s a very important figure in AoWF altogether. Though, Macca defeating the Phoenix, who isn’t only holder of the two most significant titles in the world, but a masterful wrestler, speaks more impressive. In a way, this match could boost Macca’s career notably, while a loss could potentially ruin Phoenix’s reign of awesome. Alternatively, Phoenix winning would simply reassure his mighty stature, while Macca could sort of drop off the ‘Main Event’ radar.

- We start off seeing Phoenix accept (more so standing there indifferently) the heavy rain of vulgarity from tonight’s crowd, in his corner. Across from the Champion, unsurprisingly, a cheeky-slash-insufferable (depending on your love for the little guy) grin is glued onto Macca’s mug. When Phoenix attempts to tie-up, Macca sidesteps and flips-off his masked adversary, to cheap approval from the crowd. This time, it is Macca who goes for the tie-up, but Phoenix blasts Macca in the chin with a forearm! Two steps back is what Macca takes, and whilst Phoenix quickly follows up through a chain of bullet-like jabs to the abdomen, Macca responds with one vicious headbutt that reels Phoenix backward into the ropes!

- Through a whip, Macca sends Phoenix to the other side and as if choreographed, Phoenix handstands, his feet fall against the rope, which provides him enough momentum to spring off the canvas and fall backward into a running Macca for an elbow to the face– though the Cuntster sidesteps, Phoenix rolls onto his feet, in time to see an incoming superman punch, which he impossibly dodges by bending backward, all Neo-like! During Phoenix’s matrix injection, Macca mule kicks Phoenix in the back soon as he regains proper form, pushing the Champion onto his knees. When Macca stands, which he’s fast to do, Phoenix is also up but not in enough time to react anyhow other than collapse due to Macca’s ‘Cunt Struck’ (super kick) to the backside of Phoenix’s head!!

- Not bothering for a pin because Phoenix tries no-selling the kick by moving onto his knees (although clearly fazed), Macca pursues by football-kicking Phoenix in the gut, twice! Predictably, the crowd basks in Phoenix’s punishment, chanting ‘X’er Cunt’ as they’ve been prone to do. Seated in the corner, courtesy of a knee to the face by Macca, Phoenix dazedly welcomes a running knee lift once more to the face! On a roll, Macca rallies fans by gesturing with his hands the common “COME ON” signal, and then, backing himself into the opposite corner, Macca runs out to missile dropkick Phoenix, but it’s this opportunity Phoenix seizes to slip beneath the bottom rope, forcing Macca to smash his testicles against the ring post, to many fans’ shock and awe!!

- The Champ repeatedly punches Macca in the face, while on the outside, and Macca is still caught in his horrible position. Grabbing both of Macca’s legs, Phoenix pulls him against the ring post thrice, which understandably brings sharp yelps of pain from Macca!! Ascending the apron and then turnbuckles, Phoenix jumps off to land a double stomp onto Macca’s chest, slamming the Cunt hard into the canvas! As Linzi Martin said, “It’s safe to assume offense has not only been balanced but very likely in Phoenix’s favor now” Yet, none of that offense is well enough to put Macca away longer than a single count!

- Few stomps onto the back and right leg of Macca by Phoenix, eases the appliance of a Texas Cloverleaf, which worsens and amplifies Macca’s pain considerably! Without doubt, Macca knew better than to try and reverse the hold, so crawled toward the ropes, but twice, Phoenix brought the hold into the centre of the ring!! “TWICE, LINZI! HOW THE HELL IS MACCA STILL HOLDING ON?!” Gordon loudly wonders into his headset, astonished by Macca’s willpower. In his eyes, you can see water edge the lids, due to the high amount of pain and struggle Macca is enduring, but even Phoenix is irritated by Macca’s determination; shouting, “FUCKING TAP ALREADY!” Inch by inch, Macca retries his reach for the ropes, and when he can feel it at the tip of his fingers, Phoenix tries to drag them forward to ring-centre once more, but this time, Macca’s tight grip on the rope prevents that and brings everyone to giddiness!!

- Releasing his very effective hold on Macca at the count of four, Phoenix runs to opposite ropes and rebounds for a dropkick that sends Macca beneath the bottom rope and onto the apron. Now atop a nearby turnbuckle, when Macca stands on the apron, Phoenix leaps forward to figuratively decapitate Macca via clothesline!! Phoenix’s impact sent Macca back-flipping onto his face, but on the apron, still. Coincidentally, Macca rolled inside the ring and into a spot where Phoenix could ascend the turnbuckle to execute a diving elbow drop (also known as ‘The Ashes’)! When Phoenix reacts accordingly, Macca textbook avoids the elbow by merely rolling out of the way! Yet when Phoenix stands, Busaiku Knee Kick to the face busts Phoenix wide open!!! Bleeding from the mouth, Phoenix lies unconscious as Macca hurriedly falls atop and hooks the leg! Referee Tommy Idol creates three consecutive counts, and then declares Macca winner by pinfall!!



The entire arena erupts in cheers for Macca, who has difficulty in standing but is evidently delighted of his victory.

Linzi Martin: “We gotta get a replay of that Busaiku Knee Kick!!”

Larry Gordon: “Yeah, that’s definitely going viral tonight.”

Somehow managing to get outside, Macca leans against a barricade so fans around can pat him on the back and give him some beer bottles, which Macca clinks together and drinks, waterfall style! “Collingwood Football Club” never sounded so appropriate.

[Match: 13 minutes, 42 seconds]


The KKK defeat the team of Simon & Maya Kalis to become new REBEL Pro Tag Team Champions
Allen Chaney wins the REBEL Pro Invitational, earning himself a contract!
Justin Case defeats the undefeated Jake Norton, earning a shot @ The Aggression Title!
Wrestling’s Undisputed defeats The Uproars and retain their “Disputed” Tag Team titles!
Sean Robinson defeats Bubba J, earning a shot @ The World title!
Anna Mathews defeats Jonathan Cage to retain the Aggression Championship!
Macca defeats The AoWF and REBEL Pro World Champion Phoenix in a stunning upset!

Aggression 11-12-2012

You Ain’t A Dale

“You Ain’t A Dale”

“Ride Through the Country” plays on a cell phone, the vibrating phone bouncing lightly over a table as Dale prepares for his match later that night. A scarred hand reaches out, the wrists already taped up for the match when the gruff voice answers.


He waits.

“Sure, I’m in my room.”

A nod.


He hangs up, a confused look on his face when Jethro knocks on the door and opens it up on Dale’s invitation.

Jethro: “Hey man, you ready?”

Dale shrugs his shoulders, finishing the taping of his right wrist.

Dale: “I reckon so, will be good to keep walking past when someone hollers Dale.”

He and Jethro slap five.

Dale: “What is it man?”

Jethro sits down, holding a piece of paper in his hands.

Jethro: “Know how Engel was my partner.”

Dale nods.

Jethro: “Know how we won that #1 Contenders match?”

Dale once again nods.

Jethro: “And know how he just up and disappeared and no word?”

Dale nods, finishing up the taping.

Dale: “Yeah, and you asked me to be your tag partner or else the shot was forfeit. Whats your point Thro?”

Jethro sighs.

Jethro: “I’m done with Tag Team wrestling man, I don’t want to settle for a second best.”

He holds out a hand.

Jethro: “Not that you aren’t good, but Engel and me just had chemistry.”

Dale laughs.

Dale: “No offense man, you two were the best I’ve ever come across. I can understand, but the question is, where does this leave me now?”

Jethro hands over the piece of paper.

Jethro: “Here is the contract, find yourself a partner and you get the shot. I’ve talked to Simon and well, he agrees.”

Dale looks over at Jethro.

Dale: “What about you competing here in Rebel Pro?”

Jethro smiles.

Jethro: “Any time I’m booked, this big redneck will kick some ass.”

Dale: “Even Matt Stone’s?”

They laugh.

Jethro: “He has had my number recently, but notice that he ran away after our match.”

They both nod again. They slap hands together again and shake at the end.

Dale: “I hate it man, but understand at the same time.”

Jethro stands up.

Jethro: “Got any ideas yet?”

Dale shakes his head, but a smile is on his face.

Dale: “If Vincent was still here, sure, but I might have a thought or two in my scarred head.”

Again a laugh and as Jethro is exiting the room, he turns back.

Jethro: “Go out there and win tonight man, you just ain’t a Dale Petty.”

Laughter fades as we fade.

Reece “The Coyote” Paxton versus Mystery Man?

Linzi Martin: Welcome to Aggression!

Larry Gordon: It looks like this week Reece Paxton will be using the ramp to get to the ring like everyone else.

Reece walks out from the back. He has a very uncomfortable look on his face as he marches to the ring. He looks out to the Rebel Pro fans who boo even louder as he looks their direction. Reece just waves it off before reaching the ring apron. He jumps up and goes in through the middle rope. Without wasting a second, he marches to the corner and demands a mic. As his music dies down, Reece speaks.

Paxton: You see this? Do you people see the shit I have to put up with??? Not back one solid week, and already I have a “Mystery Opponent.”

Reece emphasizes the phrase with his fingers. He looks very frustrated as he talks.

Paxton: But the funny thing is, whoever this opponent is, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if it’s Bobby Lee or The Phoenix himself. When I came back to Rebel, I brought an unmatched fury with me. So whoever my opponent is, I suggest you enjoy your walk to the ring. Because when I’m done with you, walking will be something you’ll only be able to day dream about doing again.

Larry Gordon: That little bastard’s ego is still just as unchecked and undeserved as ever.

Paxton: Come on! I’m waiting! Get out here!

“Let’s get rocked” by Def Leppard begins to play over the loud speakers. The fans don’t know what to do as Alex Wilkie walks out. Wilkie is wearing baggy pants, and a t-shirt. Mean while, we flash to Paxton laughing in the ring. He looks like he could shed tears from laughing so hard.

Paxton: This is a joke right? Didn’t I bust you up enough last week? What are you doing man? If you want beat up this bad, you still have my number. I’ll make a house call to kick your ass!

Wilkie looks less than amused as he begins walking down to the ring. He rolls in under the bottom rope, and uses the ropes to pull himself up.

Wilkie: Alright, calm down now. As much as that twinkle in your eye tells me you’d enjoy kicking me around way too much, well…I hate to burst your bubble; but I’m not your opponent.

Linzi Martin: Say what?

Larry Gordon: Then why is Wilkie out here?

Paxton stops laughing. A confused look turns to anger.

Paxton: So what then? Did you come out to get the jump on me before my match? A little revenge for last week?

Wilkie: Jesus Reece. Calm down. If you keep stressing like this you may shit yourself from IBS. I’m guessing our buddy Larry over there wouldn’t enjoy having to buy another ring canvas.

Larry Gordon: Thank you Alex.

Alex smiles as nods as he sees Larry speak.

Wilkie: But the truth be told, I’m as in the dark as you are. I received word I should come to the ring. Low and behold, your match was about to happen.

Linzi Martin: This still makes no sense. What is going on.

The lights dim.

Larry Gordon: I guess we’re about to find out.

“Around the Stars” by Mercy Drive begins to play. The lights slowly rise on the entrance under the Rebel Tron, and as the music crescendos, out from the back walks a man. He stops at the top of the ramp to look out at the fans who don’t know how to receive him The tall and tan man has a shaved head that shines in the light.

Linzi Martin: Larry, I’m not getting anything. Who is this guy?

Larry Gordon: Hell if I know. Must be one of the ass holes Kalis hired.

The man begins marching with a purpose down to the ring. Paxton looks riled up as Wilkie just keeps looking. The man reaches the ring, rolls in, and goes to the corner. He raises an arm as he looks out at the fans.

Linzi Martin: All we can really tell is that he’s wearing black pants, a black coat, and black sun glasses.

Larry Gordon: Maybe he’s a vampire. They seem to be the trend nowadays.

The man hops down and stares at Paxton. Paxton raises the mic.

Paxton: Well mystery man….seems we need something to call you. I think it should be “My Bitch.”

Paxton drops the mic and rushes the man, but he ducks under the arm. As Paxton bounces into the ropes, the man drills him from behind with a forearm to the head.

Larry Gordon: Who is this guy?

Linzi Martin:…How is that for a clue?

In the ring, the man parts his coat. Underneath is the AOWF King of Extreme title. In an instant, the fans are chanting, “NAS-TY!” “NAS-TY!” Wilkie rolls back in and gives a smile to Mark McNasty. The two turn their attention to Paxton who looks to leave in a rush. However, they dive out of the ring, and block his exit. As McNasty and Wilkie walk towards Paxton, he turns and looks over his shoulder, before attempting to vault the rail. However, the fans push him back over. As Paxton lands on his back, the arena bursts into laughter.

Larry Gordon: Seems the fans want to see what Reece has coming to him.

McNasty and Wilkie continue closing in on Reece as he stands, and runs to another section of gate. As he jumps over, the fans make a wall in front of him. He tries to go around them, but more block him. Reece huffs and jumps back towards the ring. McNasty and Wilkie just shake their heads as they stalk him around the ring. Reece tries one more time, but the fans push him back. Finally, Reece turns, and with the entrance ramp to his back, he begins backing up the ramp. Reece is almost foaming as he spits venom at McNasty and Wilkie. As he gets to the back, McNasty and Wilkie look out to the crowd. “GRADE-A-NAS-TY!” “GRADE-A-NAS-TY!” They look at each other, and roll into the ring. After getting a set of mics, Wilkie begins to talk.

Wilkie: Hey Mark.

Cheesey pop from the crowd.

McNasty: Hey Wilkie.

Another pop.

Wilkie: What brings you to this neck of the woods?

McNasty: Well, ya see Alex, I saw what that little prick did to you last week; the way he talked to you. And it just didn’t sit right with me. I figured it’s been too long since someone reminded him of his place. Oh say like, on his back looking at the lights for three seconds. You know…where I left him last time I was in the ring with him.

The crowd begins cheering.

McNasty: And speaking of where things left off; I believe we were a dominating tag team before you left me high and dry here in Rebel last time.

Wilkie looks down and kicks at the mat.

Wilkie: Mark, we both know I wanted to pursue other things. But um, surprise, I’m back. And I learned something while I was gone.

Quick laugh between the two.

McNasty: What’s that?

Wilkie: That we only get better with age…like fine wine.

McNasty smirks as he rubs his chin.

McNasty: You know what? I like that. You know, Grade A Nastyness was fun, but I’ve always said what better way to go out than on top. Grade A Nastyness had a damn good run last time. And I’d hate to spoil that. So folks, you’re hearing it first. Grade A Nastyness has officially retired. Say hello to “Fine Wine.”

“Around the Stars” by Mercy Drive begins to play again as Wilkie and McNasty chat in the ring.

Fine Wine

Linzi Martin: And just like that, we not only have the return of former Aggression champion Mark McNasty, but the return of former Rebel Pro Tag champions Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie.

Larry Gordon: Except now instead of going by some hokey cliche team name, they’ve opted for the less cliche, more hokey name of Fine Wine. And just like real wine, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

We pan back to Wilkie and McNasty, stopping at the top of the ramp, holding their arms up as the fans cheer.


A shitty iPhone camera is turned on. Not sure who’s holding it, but Tony Edison and Erik Loomis are in front of it.

Voice: And we’re good.

Edison: Alright! Look here bitches, we’re the Uproars, and we have come to fuck shit up in REBEL Pro! Erik Loomis is a machine, and with the Man Gravity Forgot, yours truly, Tony Edison, we are fucking unstoppable!

Loomis: …the fuck are you ranting about? This is pointless.

Edison: Shut up and talk shit. God your promos suck. Anyway, the sun has risen over REBEL now that there are some true professionals here. The best of the best in UX have shown up, including my beautiful face. So you bitches need to get ready!

Loomis: Golden Inferno, we’re talking to you! We’re gonna put the beat down on your asses so bad…(Edison chimes in with a “Sooo baaaad”) that you aren’t gonna shit right for a week. So get ready, because its on the way. The Northeast Beast goes easy on nobody.

Edison: Actually, did you guys name your team after what your moms told me they named my junk? Or is it just a strange coincidence that we share the name? It’s not important, because motherfuckers, we are done being those “great guys” who are only mediocre wrestlers. We are working out, getting our intense pump going, and we are ready to kick some REBEL ass!

Loomis: So get ready, because when we start, there is no stopping us!

Edison: Gold, Inferno…see you in the ring.

The two high five.

Edison: Now turn the camera off…

Voice: How?

Edison: The same way you turned it on….the big red button…you’re fucking st–

The scene cuts to black.

Tag Team Match!

The Uproars versus Golden Inferno

The Uproars, Tony Edison and Erik Loomis received a huge pop when they made their entrance with clearly many UX marks in the crowd tonight. Golden Inferno also received a good bit of cheers, but perhaps only out of pity and amusement at their constant folly rather than for their skill inside the ring. Erik Loomis and Inferno start off the battle with Inferno immediately attempting to set fire to Loomis with a bottle of Axe body spray and a lighter, using the combination as a flamethrower which does have the crowd up on their feet and cheering. Loomis dodging the flames by pushing himself back and back. Meanwhile, given REBEL Pro’s tornado tag team rules Tony Edison is attempting to track Jeremy Gold outside the ring. However Gold is running in circles around the ring, screaming like a girl with Bieber fever as he tries to stay far away from Tony Edison. Finally Edison spins, turning around to run in the direction Jeremy Gold is running away from him with and then clotheslines Jeremy Gold to the ground. He begins stomping Gold down but Gold rolls under the ring to avoid further damage. Loomis is inside the ring and so, Inferno as he usually does, sets HIMSELF on fire this time and runs at Loomis screaming. He tackles Loomis to the canvas and holds on, burning both Loomis and himself but Edison is back in the ring and bounces off the ropes and hits an elbow drop onto the back of Inferno’s head. Inferno rolls off of Loomis who gets helped to his feet by his tag partner Tony. Both men quickly begin stomping down on Inferno to put out the fire. Loomis lifts Inferno up onto his shoulders as Edison gets onto the top rope and they complete their patented finisher the Eastern Execution! The crowd is on their feet! Loomis covers!





As The Uproars have their arms raised in the air, Jeremy Gold slides out from under the ring holding his wet crotch as he clearly pissed himself. He runs away screaming and crying, with the Uproars victorious.

Killing The Franchise

The trumpet’s sound off as the beginning to Kanye West’s “All Of The Lights” takes up the PA system and out walks “The Franchise Killer” himself, “The Chosen One” Justin Case. His manager “The Wiz” walks beside him as they make their way to the ring.


Has even the at and canadian pharmacy meds promo code that WORKS drops instantly from products really.

Gordon: What the heck is he out here for?

Linzi Martin: beats me, but if it involves Justin Case, it can’t be good.

Case takes center stage inside the Aggression squared circle as his music dies off.

He motions for a mic in hand.

The REBEL PRO audience boo loudly.

Justin Case: You all make me laugh. How pathetic each and every one of you are. It amazes me how you all had the IQ level to get into the arena in the first place.

“TCO” and The Wiz share a laugh

Justin Case: But Im not out here for your ammusement. Sorry to burst your bubble but I have less important stuff to talk about right now. That being “The Eternal Annoyance” motor mouth of motown, Jonathan Cage.

Cheers run through out the arena. A chant of Jon-a-than echos the walls.

Justin Case: Chant all you want but this here is my time.

Case smiles

Justin Case: When I think of Jonathan Cage, one thing comes to mind. Who in the hell is that?! Like seriously, Ive been in the AOWF a long time now, and not once have I ever heard of this tattoo’d face painted 6 foot toothpick. Apparently his legacy speaks for itself. He doesnt have one.

Case paces the ring and continues.

Justin Case: But obviously I took a look at the roster section on the REBEL PRO website, and now I know him all too well. You see, when you have been doing this as long as I have, you dont need to know someone to know someone. If you know what I mean. You see, no one plays this game better than yours truly. So when a wet eared Underground X wannabe comes back to a fed he left almost ten years ago, you can say something’s never change.

Case stops and stares into the camera.

Justin Case: Yeah boy, Im talkin to you! You think you can come back to the AOWF and that you can immediately make an impact before going through Legendary Legacary?! Boy, I have eaten better men than you for dinner! And for dessert, I just have this to say.

“The Chosen One” looks off into the crowd.

Justin Case: Yeah, I can see that “I love Cage” sign. You better thank your lucky stars you aint in the front row, because I’d straight murder your ass!

Larry Gordon: Bold words from LL

Linzi Martin: Bold words for a loser more like it.

Case looks to the camera upon him inside the ring.

Justin Case: You see, it goes without saying that this isnt your first rodeo. However, Cage, you arent in kansas anymore. Meaning, as of now, you’re not within the realm of your familiar settings. No longer are you in CWF, XWE, eWo, or even the OWC. Those feds have long past you by. And now you think you can show up out of no where and pick up where you left off some 9 years ago?! You are in the big leagues little boy! But dont get me wrong, I hate REBEL PRO with a passion. And my passion runs deep as I still think of myself as the true franchise killer. However, you are now in MY backyard! Where not only I have held the tag team titles with a PWA World Champion, in Emily Corlen, along side the REBEL PRO Tag Team Titles, you are looking at a man who is a World Champion 2 times over. Im talking about this federation, MY federation, and a federation I have succeeded in achieving things you can only dream of, kid!

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Justin Case: So if you want to go eye for an eye, toe to toe with the best in this business, you need not look any further. The fact remains Cage, I am the best wrestler you are ever going to face in your pathetic career, period! And if you want to come out and talk about all the bullshit federations you have succeeded in the past. I am here to tell you, you dont know what true success is until you can defeat yours truly! And by coming out tonight I am now calling your ass out for a fight!

Larry Gordon: You done did it now.

Linzi Martin: oh please, spare me the BS.

Justin Case: So come at me with whatever you got, but your little old accolades dont mean jack in the AOWF! This is MY territory! So you best watch your step before I throw your ass out the door and send you back to where you came from, because I have spent years perfecting my craft here in the AOWF. And as the REBEL PRO franchise killer, you are going to be just a fork in the road that is my path to destiny. A destiny that is to finish what I started, and I wont stop until yours truly is REBEL PRO World Heavyweight Champion! “The Choice” is yours. But when its all said and done, no one can defeat “The Chosen One”.

Case stares into the lens.

Justin Case: People from far and wide all know what you, Jonathan Cage, have yet to realize……

Justin Case U didnt know, I rule this f*cking show!!!

“The Chosen One” stands his ground.

Justin Case: Now come on out and get your ass handed to you on a fat ass platter! You asked for it, and so now you will get what is coming to you. You need to learn a lesson or two. And the first lesson is, I mop the ring with you!

Larry Gordon: This should be good!

Linzi Martin: Finally we agree on something.

Case gets ready for some REBEL PRO action!

Rebound For A Win Match!

Justin Case versus Jonathan Cage

Cage and Case both seem to get no love from the crowd as they enter the ring. Case stands just an inch short than Cage and isn’t afraid to stand right up in Cage’s face to let him know what he thinks of him. Cage with a swift elbow cracks Case across the head, Case rebounds and takes Cage down quickly with an implant DDT that shakes the ring. Case in complete control, Cage seems almost as if he didn’t show up tonight. Case lifts Cage up and cracks him a few times across the face before whipping him into the ropes and then catching him and taking him down with a Fishermans Suplex. Case does not relent as he attempts to lock in the Snap or Tap! BUT Cage gets away on all fours, before Case can lock it up. Cage back up and he catches a charging TCO, taking him down with a spinning backbreaker. Case is up, and Cage goes for an inverted DDT but Case pushes himself free and out of no where hits Just 2 Talented!!! The crowd boos heavily as Case pins!





Case has his hand raised, soaking in the boos but with a huge smile on his face having defeated the last eWo World Champion.

Out Of The Blocks

The following footage was recorded by a fan earlier during the week and posted on YouTube.

– it out it really is him.

The blurry phone footage shakes for a momentum before coming to a still on what looks to be a homeless man asleep in a flower bed and holding a traffic cone. Two teens then enter from the picture before one of them pokes at the body with a stick which gets a grunt in return for his efforts.

Teen one:
No way man, he is a professional athlete. There is no way in hell he would be passed out in a park.

Camera operator:
I’m telling you tadalafil generico precio mexico man it is. Wake him up and you will see.

The first teen shakes his head but the second, who holds the poking stick of power, seems more open to this and once again gives the body a stiff poke. Another grunt is not a good enough response it would seem as the teen now gives the passed out body a solid whack which results in the man letting out a yelp of pain before shooting up into a sitting position.

My fucking ribs cunt… and head… fuuuuuck. What the fuck was that?

Yes indeed ladies and gentlemen, to everyone’s great surprise (not really) the body turns out to be former UX turned REBEL star, Macca. Holding his traffic cone like a safety blanket, Macca turns to glare at the three young men but instead delivers a comical squint as the harsh beating rays of the sun (again he is drunk, it was overcast at best) enter his eyes.

The fuck are you cunts doing in my house?

The camera begins to shake as the three boys burst into laughter at the hung over man.

Teen two:
This is a park moron.

Whatever. I just needed any place out of the way to bang this slut I picked up.

Macca doesn’t seem to understand why the men begin to laugh once more as he lifts the traffic cone up to show them his ‘slut’. Deciding it’s time to move, Macca attempts to get to his feet before falling on his ass. It takes another three efforts before his onlookers are kind enough to give him a hand up to his feet.

I need a beer. Have to drink myself sober.

The foursome begin to walk with Macca directing where they are heading (though he probably has no idea himself).

Teen two:
So you work for REBEL now huh?

A grunt is the reply.

Teen Two:
What’s it like being a wrestler?

I get to smack cunts around and afterwards get a pay check instead of a summons. It’s pretty shit hot.

Camera operator:
What do you plan to do in your match this week?

A grin makes its way onto his face as Macca turns to face the man holding the phone.

I plan to fuck Petty so hard that he will feel like a two dollar whore once I am done.

Teen one:
You faced Bubba J last week dick head! Your facing Jake Norton and Marvin Wood this week.

A small sound of recognition comes from Macca as he pauses a moment to ponder the fuck out of this mighty question.

This week I plan to steam roll some cunts and keep my momentum up from my big win last week.

A pause

I did win last week right?

Teen one:

Bonus. Jake, I know a few things about Jake or at least I thought I did. The Norton that used to be my brother under the father figure that was Bad Man is very different to the one that is in REBEL. I knew all about him and he knew all about me, now it seems that only half of that sentence is true. Honestly I’m looking forward to facing off against him, see what the real Norton is all about. Despite the history I still plan to pound his ass like a Bruce, the mighty shower scene though. I doubt he would have it any other way.

A hand snakes its way down the front of Macca’s pants for a scratch as he continues to walk and talk. The cunt really seems to be going for it. Is he digging for gold or something?

As for Marvin Wood, surprisingly enough I seem to remember him from his fifteen second long tenure in UX also, and unlike Norton, Marvin has not changed at all. He will try and impress you, make you think he is a bigger deal than he really is. He will probably even throw in some big words to impress you like concordantly and hippopotamus. You probably won’t even understand what he is saying because of these big words and that’s just how old Marv wants it. He wants you confused so that you won’t know what he is hiding. And what is it he is hiding you ask?

None of them did FYI

He is hiding the fact that he could not hold a candle to anyone in this company in the ring. He wants to make himself appear superior in intellect so that you will fail to notice his shortcomings in the physical ability. I once claimed to be above a title belt, same as old Marv did a few weeks ago. You know what the difference is? I actually threw mine away, not let myself get pinned in the middle of the ring to make my argument null and void. That does nothing to prove your superiority, that just proves you’re a dumb cunt.

Macca gets on up in the camera phones grill. I think he is trying to be serious and intimidating but unfortunately he is a bit too close and all that can be seen is the bottom half of his face.

Comes the end of this week when I enter the ring Norton and Wood will be just like your shoes my friend.

And with that Macca topples forward and empties the contents of his stomach all over the unsuspecting mans shoes. He leaps back before letting out a shout of disgust as do his friends.

Teen two:
What the hell man?

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Camera operator:
My shoes! They’re fucked! They’re absolutely fucked!

The shit eating smirk that fans of Macca have come to know and love makes its way onto the cunsters face as he replies.

Exactly! Cheers that, cunts!

And with the sound of angry teenagers the screen cuts to black.

To The World IV

In-between commercial breaks can be hideously boring, especially at a LIVE REBEL Pro event. Not necessarily being a bad thing, this speaks for the level of quality REBEL outputs now: some fans yearn to intake more of this violent eye-candy, like drug addicts; the “I’ll suck your dick!” type. Chants of “feed us more!” in the vein of infringing Ryberg, steadily climbs out from an intensifying amount of voices, to the point of volume cranked comparably with those terroristic, jailed Asians from The Dark Knight Rises (Deshi Basara!)

To answer this call of need, yippee flutes and soaring violins charge forth from the arena’s sound system, drenching fans with cancerous solution. A shirtless, orange spandex wearing, bed-hair messy, lazy-eyed, average British teeth, nevertheless incongruously charismatic, Jake Norton leaps out of the black logo curtain that separates ringside from backstage, rolls down the ramp like sonic the hedgehog, but upon arrival to the apron, this oddball springs off the concrete from a handstand position and safely lands on the apron, with his back against and arms laid on the ropes, smugly.

Strutting across the apron whilst fans applaud him, Norton ascends the corner turnbuckles, beats his chest twice and shoots his fist skyward like a Disney firework, with the explosion being a repugnant smile capable of unseating Macca’s own. Rushing around the corner is a ringside crew member who’s likely been told by management to quickly equip Norton with a microphone, despite Norton not requesting for one, as cheap viagra evident by his confused expression. Accepting it anyway, Norton delays its usage to give a section of tonight’s audience a solid look over.

Jake Norton: “You guys want me to cut a promo?”

Fans: “Yeah!”

Jake Norton: “Really?”

Fans: “Yeah!”

Jake Norton: “Shit, let’s have ourselves a promo.”

Fans: “Hell yeah!”

Coming down the turnbuckles, Norton steps down onto the steel steps and seats himself there. Slouching like a thinking monkey, with his chin resting on a balled fist, Norton wets his lips.

Jake Norton: “I had no intention coming out here and shooting on Macca or Marvin because these are two guys I have personal history with. Last year, a week before ‘Epos Victoria’ – that cross-promotional show Victory and Epic had –I faced Marvin Wood in a match, a week before he would go on to fight Scott Free for the eWo Heavyweight Championship, and won; a clean one, two, three. And that was one of my proudest achievements. You know why? Because, in my honest opinion, Marvin Wood is the greatest wrestler this world has ever known.”

Some fans unaware of Norton’s adoration for Marvin are taken aback by his compliments, but others softly agree.

Jake Norton: “And instead of no-selling my victory as Marvin tends to do whenever he comes up short, afterward, Marvin approached me backstage and shook my hand, acknowledging both of us as people worthy to be allies. From there, Marvin Wood and I joined Lawrence Jarvis & Bill Dynamite, two highly-regarded eWo legends, to form a stable of all-British Excellency.”

Then a bitter smirk overcomes Norton’s mug.

Jake Norton: “We went on to set a standard for all of a month; a mere month. Marvin Wood was the World Heavyweight Champion, booked against Lisa Seldon’s lesbo sister, Alexis Sykes, and Teresa Quaranta’s protégé, Micah Castille, in a triple threat match. At the last minute, Marvin asked eWo president Scott Palmer to add me into the match, claiming I deserved a crack at him, too. Palmer agreed, but the truth of it was Marvin wanted me to back him in the match, to even the odds against Sykes & Castille, who were teammates – the Shock Doctrine.”

Norton’s eyes slant into corners of his eyelids.

Jake Norton: “Our ‘excellent’ standard came to an end because Marvin fed me to them, like a coward. He fled when it became apparent his chances of retaining the belt took a sheer drop into rock bottom. We were supposed to be teammates, you know? But typically, in pro’ wrestling, villains just can’t seem to coexist without eventual backstabbing in the works. So what happened? Micah Castille broke several of my bones, and Alexis Sykes Reservoir Dogged my ear – slicing it off gruesomely with a knife, before setting me ablaze altogether.”

Nostrils flaring and blood pumping, Norton is becoming enraged.

Jake Norton: “From there, I had to have plastic facial reconstruction surgery by the fucking best surgeons this world has in order to get my basic looks back. Just to look relatively normal. It drove me into bankruptcy. It gave me an adolescent sort of insecurity, and nearly killed my career. Seriously, how the fuck does someone come back from that burial?! Not many do. Not many should. But I’ve taken a lot of shit over the years. From being actually cummed on in Sin Wrestling by Chris Extreme, to Teresa Quaranta punting me into a comatose, my career still manages to rise from the coffin like Nosferatu.”

We’ve got a split crowd reaction suitable for a pie chart: some are mocking Norton, few are indifferent, but many are moved by Norton’s honesty, even some inspired.

Jake Norton: “I wouldn’t be able to exact revenge on Marvin Wood or those other two Jabronis, however. Nope, I went down to Underground X, acting as manager of ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson and doing some commentary duties here in REBEL Pro to collect enough dough that would help me out of my financial acid pit. But it was while I worked at UX I came into contact with Macca, the little Cuntster many of you are becoming so fond of.”

“Bad, Bad Man” by John Cena unexpectedly interrupts, and fans are baffled! Norton confusedly stares at the entranceway, with his mouth agape and eyebrows scowled. Then, it all becomes clear, when ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson emerges to a cultish markage, wearing a “Rasputin the Mad Monk” t-shirt, with words on it reading, “BANG” & “WORK LIKE A VILLAIN”! Wobbling down toward ringside, Jackson has a microphone in hand, and he looks pissed!

Bad Man: “Cut my fucking music!” The sixty plus year old UX Legend unnecessarily screeches.

Bad Man: “Who do you think you are, Jakey? You come out here on the Bad Man’s show-”

Jake Norton: “Uhm, Bad Man, I don’t think many of these people know who the hell you are.”

Bad Man backhands Norton to much shock, but to those who know Bad Man, they passionately cheer!

Bad Man: “Quiet, boy! Do you forget who you’re talking to? I am your father, Jakey. I raised you and Macca both since you were 32 and he was 28, or however the fuck old you two young hooligans were.”

Having not been this humiliated since the ‘cumming’ incident Norton spoke of earlier, Jake is caught in the middle of rage and stun.

Bad Man: “Look at you, Jakey. Look at what you’ve become. You’ve taken a detour from the Bad Way. You’re out here cutting promos, trying to be something you can never be. You’re not Macca, the future of this business, the soon-to-be World Heavyweight Champion of REBEL Pro. No, you’re Jake Norton, the boy who can’t ride a fucking bicycle!”

That memory steals the breath away from Norton, as the Cancerous Bastard momentarily relapses into the past, where the three Bad Cunts (Reece Jackson, Macca and Jake Norton) are in the parking lot of the Underground Arena, late at night after a Blacklist edition.

Macca: “Look, Norton, just hold the handlebars, keep them front and center, and pedal! Simple as that!”

Bad Man: “Fucking hell, I don’t know why we bother, Macca. This retarded-eye prick don’t know how to do shit!”

Macca: “Give him some space, Baddy. He can do it! Just believe in yourself, Jakey!”

Definitely unsure of himself, the tears are edging his eyelids, but Norton fights them back, thanks to Macca’s encouragement. Beginning to pedal, Norton is slowly but surely moving the bike forward, while Macca is continuing his support.

Macca: “That’s it! You can do it! Good job, Jakey! Now, keep going!!”

Letting go of his grip on the handlebars too, Macca allows Jakey to solely control the bicycle’s movement.

Jake Norton: “I’m.. I’m doing it! I’m really doing it! I AM DOING IT, BADDY!”

Bad Man is shocked at Norton’s success, but unfortunately, a brick wall is up ahead.

Macca: “Oh fuck, I forgot to show him how to stop.”


With his head turned sideways, Norton was unable to see what is sildenafil citrate 100mg the incoming brick wall, which he flew headfirst into. Busting his forehead open, Norton lays awkwardly against the pavement with a broken arm, screaming.

Bad Man: “What a loser.”

The flashback ends there, as Norton finally snaps out of his private journey through time with the help of another backhand from Bad Man.

Bad Man: “Now you will get in that ring and show Macca the respect he deserves, faggot!”

Beyond reason, Norton lunges into Reece Jackson with a forearm smash! Mounting his former father-like figure, Norton pummels ‘Bad Man’ with ironclad fists, yelling, “CHEERS THIS, CUNT” Punch by punch, Bad Man is quickly spilling blood, bringing from the back a bunch of security guards coming to reset order.

After being pulled off Reece Jackson, a venomous Jake Norton spits at his old mentor, and then reequips himself with the microphone.

Jake Norton: “You fans wanted a fucking promo? Well, I’m not fucking finished! Macca, Marvin, this wasn’t going to be bloody personal. I was going to let bygones be bygones. But you know what? Fuck that. Fuck you two. I’ve just realized that this isn’t just a simple contest. This is about me getting revenge for all the bullshit I’ve endured the past year, courtesy of you two knuckleheads. Marvin, for the past few weeks, you’ve been busy jobbing, missing flights, no-showing matches, and being opposite of everything you claim to be: a World Champion. Maybe that’s why you’re no longer Aggression Champion, eh? You don’t have the drive or the creativity; the spirit or flexibility!”

Norton flips off the camera.

Jake Norton: “And you, Macca. You also claim to be a Champion. These commentators like to remind us all week after week you are the final UX Undisputed and Uncensored Champion. Oh, excuse me? The same cunt who threw the Uncensored belt in the trash like it meant fuck all? The same guy who showed up here in his first week and said, “who gives a shit about UX belts?” Yeah, this is a guy you want to compete for your titles, Simon? What happens when Rob Robinson tries to buy him away from REBEL? I bet you Macca will denounce anything he’s ever done in REBEL, and take a shit on your product. This isn’t the kind of champion REBEL needs.”

Climbing the steel steps and entering the ring, Norton finishes with,

Jake Norton: “I am going to defeat two former heavyweight champions in Marvin Wood and Macca because I want to be the champion REBEL fucking deserves. The last one, Matt Stone, fucking ditched us out of cowardice, and Phoenix openly shits on REBEL Pro. Lord knows we don’t need Marvin or Macca being his successor either, since one of them can’t be bothered to fucking show and give these fans what they paid to see, and the other pretends prestigious belts are for the trash men to collect.”

Throwing the microphone outside of the ring, comically nailing ‘Bad Man’ on the back of his head, fans are rallying behind Norton as he gets into a warrior stance and yells, “COME ON” – demanding his opponents to get their asses to the ring!

What An Amazing Fucking Match Triple Threat Match

Macca versus Jake Norton versus Marvin Wood

- At the tip of the entranceway, ‘Bad Man’ collapsed onto one knee, regardless of assistance by two medics. It is a second later Collingwood Football Club’s theme music answers an already in-ring Norton’s call. The first image Macca sees when he rushes out of the curtain is his mentor and adoptive father, Reece Jackson. Sliding toward his fallen guardian on both knees stylishly, an open-arms Macca quickly embraces the bloodied bad guy and whispers words likely of sympathy. When the camera caught the Cuntster’s eyes shooting toward the ring angrily, fans knew Macca wouldn’t have any of it! Continuing to egg his former Australian mate on, Norton loudly quacks – a subtle reference to Macca’s presumed dead friend, Marty the Duck. If the beat down on Bad Man wasn’t enough to royally madden the Undisputed Cunt, a swipe at Marty definitely blew the gasket!

While Macca runs down the ramp, Norton prepares to strike venomously, and so, when Macca arrives, he’s dealt multiple stomps that prevent him from standing. Six is the total number of times for Norton to cease stomping and opt to punt Macca square in the chin! Thanks to the impact, Macca retreats to the apron, but a baseball slide by Norton assures Macca that in itself is no blanket. Now outside on cold concrete, Macca is quick to move before Norton can slingshot, plancha or dive into or onto him. This was a smart decision, but then “The Lonely Shepherd” by Gheorghe Zamfir softly yet sweetly whistles through the arena’s speakers, notifying all tuned in that Marvin Wood is here!

So he comes down the ramp, treating people to his dour expression, prompting catcalls, but there’s no time for Marvin to perform his usual routine. Macca has taken notice to the third participant in this three-way dance, as has Jake Norton. But since Macca is closest, the little Cunt goes to meet Marvin on, and when he does, Marvin leaps for a clothesline, but completely misses the Cunt whose ‘rape tackle’ (spear) humbled Marvin! Hurrying to join the fight, Norton swings several fists upon arrival, but this time, none connect with Macca! Unlike before, Macca ‘cunt struck’ (super kick) Norton dead-on his chin, staggering the Cancerous 1 a few steps backward till falling onto his behind. When that occurred, Norton swallows a comedic superman punch that steals much of the support Norton had not too long ago, converting them into Macca’s little cunts!

- At 3 minutes: The match still is not officially underway as these three men have yet to all be inside the ring, but the brawling has yet to stop! Swinging leg-hook belly-to-back suplex may as well have dislocated something for Norton’s shout of hurt to justify, courtesy of Macca! Standing atop a barricade, Marvin Wood then jumps at Macca, who catches him and transitions whatever Marvin attempted into a spun out belly-to-back inverted concrete slam! Rewarding Macca’s awesomeness with a gush of blood, Marvin reveals to the camera his instantly bloody face with a side of grimace!

- At 5 minutes: Serving one another blow-for-blow, an exchange of iconic proportions happens atop the apron between Macca and Norton. Ripping a page out of Bubba J’s (alternatively, Dale Petty’s) ‘game-changing’ book, Macca hits Norton’s stomach harshly via knee, then applies a headlock so his ring post springboard cutter off the apron can devastatingly drive Norton face-first into the concrete below! As spectators expected from such a crushing move, Norton is bleeding from the mouth!

- At 6 minutes: Straightforward from that acid drop, Macca is confronted by Marvin Wood, who returns from a fisherman buster onto Norton’s knee, but has no difficulty in slapping away Marvin’s offense. However, even though a kick to the groin followed by a facebreaker knee smash eased Macca’s next big move: flowing DDT (which worked perfectly and temporarily silenced Marvin Wood), Norton seized the moment to no-hand enzuigiri the fucking cunt!

- At 8 minutes: To the laughter and shock of everyone, ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson reemerges on a bicycle, pedaling toward ringside, yelling vulgarity and obscene references “I’m gonna rape the mighty out of ya!” & “beat ya like a fucking pot-bellied piggy! Oink, oink, faggots!” Having no idea who this old black bastard is, Marvin Wood leaps for another ridiculous clothesline, but Bad Man slugs the sensitive Brit hard and well, in midair! Despite troubles getting off the bike, Bad Man still conjures the bizarre strength to relentlessly thrust himself into an unconscious Marvin Wood (don’t worry, censorships, they both got clothes on. It’s dry humping, but still incredibly graphic and unnecessary) “IF ONLY YOU COULD SEE ME NOW, BRUCE” Bad Man yells, vigorously. During all this, Jake Norton puts Macca through two unfolded chairs via powerbomb.

- At 9 minutes: Tiring himself out from all that thrusting, Bad Man reaches into his sweatpants and clearly rubs his hand against his crotch, looking pleased with himself. Children, cover your eyes. Pulling his puffy hand back out, Bad Man gives it a whiff and begins to gag! Rubbing his hand against Marvin’s face, Bad Man says, “wakey wakey!” and then slaps him. Still unconscious, Marvin is naturally unresponsive. Bad Man inhales a large breath, and then sighs disappointingly. Getting to his feet, Reece Jackson looks around for his boys (Macca & Jake Norton), who’ve just double knockout punched each other simultaneously at the opposite side of his location!

- At 11 minutes: We had chants of “boring” and “change the channel!” as Bad Man pushed both unconscious Macca and Norton inside the ring, then had Macca cover Norton, but referee Alan Stone said, “the match hasn’t even started! I can’t start it until Marvin Wood is also in the ring!” – “Oh, for fuck sakes!” Bad Man yelled in frustration before getting back on the bike, riding back toward Marvin, who’s stirring. Riding into Marvin and crushing his hands, the ‘Consummate Professional’ yelps in pain, but is soon hit in the head after Bad Man picks up and throws the bicycle at him! Twelve seconds pass before Bad Man can get Marvin inside the ring, but at this point, both Macca and Norton are stirring, too! Regardless, the match is now official!

-At 12 minutes: Chopping each other with pomp and circumstance, Macca gets the advantage by chopping Norton across his eyes! Blinding the lazy-eyed phenomenon momentarily, Macca pays tribute to Bad Man by giving Norton some nasty headbutts! Bad Man approves, and so do these fans! Well, a good amount of them. Boos are likely from Norton supporters. Now that Norton is reeling into a nearby corner, a divided chant of “X’er Cunt!” and “Let’s go Norton” births. Macca rams his shoulder into Norton twice, but sharp elbows to the spine are Norton’s reply! Deciding to back up, the consequence is Macca being caught off guard by Marvin Wood, who grabs him by the waist and pulls backward, only for Macca to reverse and corkscrew kneel belly-to-belly piledrive Marvin into the canvas! Although Marvin’s been dealt with, Macca still has to deal with his brother from another family, Jake Norton, who shoots out of the turnbuckle and bicycle kicks Macca right in the face!

Because Macca rolled out of further harm’s way, Norton decided to take what’s available: Marvin Wood. Lifting the bugger, Norton nicks and applies Imperfect Science (single leg-trap reverse DDT into a dragon sleeper, with shoulder being torn away at) on Marvin Wood, who embarrassingly submits within seconds! A good majority of the crowd bursts into

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cheers at the finish, but ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson growls upsettingly at Norton’s victory.

Winner: Jake Norton @ 12 minutes, 54 seconds

No Sellers Anonymous

We enter the darkened meeting place of No Sellers Anonymous where apparently a Star Wars party is in full swing. And by full swing, we mean absolute chaos. The cheese dip for the nachos has made a nice yellowish mess on the walls as Darth PuppetLisa and an one eyed half naked Jedi master battle for the right to a Death Star cookie on the buffet table. There’s a series of flips and hasty swinging of weaponry galore and the constant picking up of monocle and top hat. After a while the duo start to grapple against each other with the Dark Side winning out. Her cape flutters in some makeshift wind as she tries to as the shaft of her lightsaber inches closer to where his neck would be.

Darth PuppetLisa: Fuck you! You ate all the cake!

All Master PuppetSimon can muster in response is a belch whose stench could fell an elephant. She stumbles away just in time to miss a shot of light…thing from Boba Felt.

Darth PuppetLisa: Whose side are you on?!

“Boba” dusts off his green tux.

Boba Felt: My own.

Darth PuppetLisa: Like it matters. You’re a useless clone that has a cult following for fuck all reasons.

Boba Felt: Because I’m awesome.

As this turns into the worst argument ever, we turn to Anna and PuppetLiza dressed up as Princess Leia and Queen Amidala respectfully. PuppetTeresa’s here too but she’s so damn tall, we can’t see anything resembling a costume. If she had one though, it would probably be Jar Jar Binks.

PuppetTeresa: Wins.

Queen PuppetLiza: Ummm…Anna? Why are we dressed up like this? Halloween is over and we’ve never seen a Star Wars movie in our lives!

Princess Anna: Furst ov all, et’s still real too me, dammit!

Her fist pounds against the table.

Princess Anna: Secondlee, I likes mi hear in buns. And thirdly, itt’s either dis oar me ranting abowt the utter Robinson n’ hiz gawd complex.

All the eye rolls.

Queen PuppetLiza: Well, he was an Underground X champion…

Anna’s eyes narrow.

Princess Anna: I’mma too tyme Rebel Pro world champion, da current Aggression champion, the Final Charm, und the last real X-Division AND Car Crash Television holder evar. Doo jew cee me crowin’ bout world shiny shots ev’ry tyme aye enter a nu plase of buzyness?

Queen PuppetLiza: No.

Princess Anna: Xactly. N’ bi the way, ur ruining your hairdo wif your hat.

The Queen straightens her magical headwear.

Queen PuppetLiza: But I like my hat!

???: *Chewbacca sounds*

Everybody turns to PuppetSimon.

PuppetSimon: What? I can’t even clear my throat without you fuckers looking at me funny? Fuck is wrong with you?

Multiple looks of shock as we slip into something other boring match-n-seggy-whateverness.

Gold Digger

Backstage at the REBEL Arena, Sean Robinson stands behind the curtain, awaiting his turn to walk to the ring. He’s got new gear for REBEL. All black everything, as Jay-Z would say, with Robbo’s signature gold accents. His personal logo adorns his t-shirt, the Boston Bruins “spoked-B” logo, modified into a spoked R. UNDISPUTED shines in gold letters above it.

He turns mid-stretch and addresses the ever-present REBEL cameraman.

Sean Robinson:
“Last week, I expected more from REBEL. I expected more from Simon Kalis. What I expected, to be frank, was some fucking competition. I wanted my first match in this company to be special. I wanted to go out there and show these fans what it was that made me the greatest champion – fuck that – the greatest wrestler in Underground X history. Most of all, I wanted to prove to the world that I’m the next in line for the REBEL World Title. Macca goes out there for his first match, and he faced a bonafide REBEL legend in Dale Petty. He got to show off his skills against someone who could match him move for move. And what do I get? The worst wrestler I’ve ever seen in my life. Worse than John Chelios, worse than Robb Shadows. Jeremy goddamned Gold.

Willie Williams couldn’t have booked that match worse. And Kalis claims to be better than Salvatore D’Aquila? What a crock of shit.”

Robinson points at the “Big Board” that lists the card for tonight’s show.

“And now I’ve got Anna Matthews. Aggression Champion. Well, lucky for Miss Matthews, this is a non-title match. Not that I’m interested in that second-rate belt, mind you. The Aggression title means about as much as the gilded jockstrap that Macca was wearing before he stole my Undisputed rematch and beat Mainerishi on the last Blacklist. But you should be aware of something, Anna. I’ve dealt with my fair share of retards during my time in UX. The average idiot in the audience might think that you’re ‘wacky’ or ‘adorable’ or ‘so random’, but your little routine is just stupid bullshit to distract from your utter lack of wrestling ability.

I’ve never met a single woman who could hold her own against a man in a ring. Let alone a man of my talent. Oh, and before someone brings up Emily Corlen, let me retort with this.”

In the corner of the screen, a Youtube clip plays in a small box:

“You lucked your way into that belt, Anna. Your entire run in this company is down to two things: Luck, and the ability to completely mask your complete and total incompetance in the ring with ‘wacky’ antics. You go out there with your stupid puppets, and you try to get the fans behind you with humor. And that’s fine if you can back it up in the ring. But you can’t. You don’t have a tenth of my ability, there isn’t one iota of technical skill in what you call wrestling. And forget about submissions. If I walked out there with two broken arms, you couldn’t make me tap out.

I’m the next one in line for the World Title. Everyone knows it, they’re just deluding themselves into thinking that I’m not the best wrestler in the world. So I’m going to go out there tonight, and

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prove it to them. I’m going to make you tap out. I’m going to have you in the center of that ring, crying through your stupid little puppets, begging for the ref to call the match. And if you don’t tap, I’m just going to break something. I’m going to keep breaking bones until you can’t stand it anymore and throw in the towel, or simply pass out from the pain.

Because that’s what a real wrestler does. He doesn’t stop until the bell rings. He doesn’t let off, he doesn’t go easy. He methodically picks apart his opponent until there’s nothing left but scraps for the dogs. That’s why I’m the best in the world. I’ve been the best technical wrestler since I first stepped on a mat.

Before Salazar, Deicide, and I got here, REBEL was boring as fuck. No competition, no skill, nothing to rate this company any higher than the C show in AOWF. It would be the D show, but there’s the PWA, after all.

But then Wrestling’s Undisputed showed up. And suddenly REBEL is worth watching. Sal and D turned the tag division from stale to the standard of tag team wrestling. Technical ability, great teamwork, and of course, a level of class that REBEL has never seen before. They’ve single-handedly taken the tag division to the top of the industry.”

In the background, the opening notes of Kanye West’s “Amazing” play over the arena PA. The crowd’s boos are already audible, but Robbo just smiles.

“Now it’s my turn.”

And with that, he steps through the curtain to show the fans what they’ve been missing.

Non-Title Match

Sean Robinson versus Anna Mathews

- Next to Larry Gordon and Linzi Martin for this non-title bout is Sean Robinson’s stable mates, Cesar Salazar & Deicide. Much like previously, Deicide prefers to sit relaxed and silent, unlike Salazar, who’s wearing the special guest commentator headset.

Larry Gordon: “Cesar, we’ve just finished watching Robinson’s promotional piece on the jumbo screen, and he’s swearing to submit our Aggression Champion! What are your thoughts on this match?”

Cesar Salazar: “I believe Anna Mathews isn’t entirely incapable of wrestling a technical match because she’s quite the highflyer, and that involves some methodic skill by means of striking. But for the most part, she’s an acrobatic. And although Robinson dabbles in aerials himself, he dismisses it as an inferior technique.”

Linzi Martin: “Could that cost him?”

Cesar Salazar: “It’s a possibility, but I’m very familiar with Robinson’s career, and he’s fought every style known to a wrestler today. But as I say, Robbo could lose for his curmudgeon tendencies, but I doubt that, truly.”

Linzi Martin: “What could a win do for both of these talents, gents?”

Larry Gordon: “Well, Anna is Aggression Champ, so regardless of this being a non-title bout, it’ll strengthen not only her reign but give that belt more leverage as being a world-class strap, much like it’s superior.”

Cesar Salazar: “Exactly as Robbo said, defeating the Aggression Champ, who is also a former REBEL World Heavyweight Champion, among many other respectable accolades, would polish his claims as the next contender rather well.”

- Jimmy Johnson exercises his official duties by informing both Anna and Robinson of what is to be expected from them in this contest: anything goes. There are no rope-breaks, count-outs, disqualification, but referee stoppage is enabled in case of excessive action. Shaking his finger twice at the timekeeper, Jimmy declares the match underway, cueing Anna and Robinson to explode out of their respective corners and exchange swift avoidances and dodges of each other’s jabs, kicks and clotheslines. For over a minute, the two perform beautiful defense, but Robinson gets caught by Anna’s rolling savate kick!

Linzi Martin: “Her foot cracked Robinson so hard, someone ought to yell TIMBER.”

A split-legged moonsault off a nearby turnbuckle onto Robinson follows, but Anna’s lateral press cannot get even a mere one.

Larry Gordon: “The pride of Robinson seeps already.”

- At 4 Minutes: An overhead belly-to-belly suplex mistakenly propels Anna Mathews onto the ropes, which she correctly utilizes to rebound at Robinson for an astonishing springboard spike DDT! Fans wildly cheered as Anna hurriedly covered Robinson’s lifeless body, but resurrected at the sound of a two count by jolting a shoulder up off the canvas!

Not granting herself a moment of awe, Anna pushes off her knees and takes to the ropes once more; comes off with a Lionsault that is greeted with two sharp knees to the gut! A seemingly instinctive grab of Anna’s ankle, Robinson delivers four fast heel kicks to Anna’s spine before applying a tidy ankle lock! Twisting and jerking the joints, Robinson shouts at a panicking Anna to surrender! Picking option two instead, Anna smartly uses her free foot to ram itself thrice into both Robinson’s chin and throat, which frees herself altogether!

- At 9 Minutes: One spinning headscissor flipped Robinson across the ring, and when he rose, a Boomerfly (springboard butterfly) Kick nearly decapitates him! Nearly, because ducking beneath forced Anna onto the top rope, spilling over-the-top, and left leg smacks against the apron on her way down to the concrete! Just the beginning of her troubles, for Robinson ran up a nearby turnbuckle and jumped off, landing on Anna’s spine via double foot stomp, as she were on all fours trying to gather herself!

Linzi Martin: “That’s 245lbs dropping onto a 120lbs body! That’s over twice her weight!”

- At 13 Minutes: Scooping a laid out Anna off the steel steps he just planted her onto via leg-hook reverse STO, Robinson lifts her onto his right shoulder in order to ram her back-first into a ring post, then slams her directly atop the barricade! Virtually paralyzed by the brutal sequence, Anna remains awkwardly and painfully laid out across the barricade, presenting Robinson opportunity to climb onto the apron and leap for a guillotine legdrop, which he awesomely does!

Cesar Salazar: “The ref needs to check her vital signs.”

- At 15 Minutes: Attempting to shove Anna inside the ring, Robinson is met with desperate kicks, for Anna knows her being inside the ring could increase Robinson’s chances of victory tenfold. A strong mule kick to Robinson’s midsection does the trick, but Anna must follow it up quickly, so she does with an inverted double underhook facebuster!

Larry Gordon: “Talk about evening the odds.”

Linzi Martin: “Desperate times calls for horrific measures!”

Bleeding from the nose, which is also likely broken, Robinson’s eyes are disoriented, indicating a private trip to a misty forest. The damage done to Anna’s body is more apparent as she limps and generally struggles to keep hold on her strength. But fortunately for her, REBEL Marks love her to death, so a few offer their beverages, snacks, shoes, action figures (there are kids in attendance), but ultimately, Anna decides on a thick steel chain that somehow made it pass arena security. Wrapping it around her fist, the Queen of Dodos stalks a rising Robinson, and then connects with his ear, sending him sideways into a ring post for hysteric approval!

- At 20 Minutes: Subsequent to a diverse series of offense (starting first to last in order of execution: rope hung snap swinging neckbreaker, rolling thunder transitioned into a somersault senton, inverted surfboard, while also applying a dragon sleeper, but countered by Robinson’s punching; a lifting double underhook facebuster into a lateral press, which was reversed for a cradle pin, but reaped no counts) Anna caught a vicious uppercut, and now is stuck in a sleeper takedown! Anna is trying to hit Robinson, but the pressure on her throat weakens her punches quickly!

Linzi Martin: “There’s no rope breaks! She has to fight her way out!”

Larry Gordon: “How can she when her lights are dimming?!”

Linzi Martin: “What’s that Robinson is yelling?!”

Cesar Salazar: “I do believe it is, ‘This Is Wrestling’”

As Anna’s arms fall lifelessly to the canvas and her eyes close, Robinson has persuaded the REBEL audience into joining him with more powerful chants of “THIS IS WRESTLING”! Obviously unconscious, Anna Mathews compels Jimmy Johnson to call for a stoppage, declaring Sean Robinson winner! “Amazing (Heartbeats Remix)” by Kanye West plays to the confirmation of Jenny Jersey’s voice, and Sean Robinson just barely relinquishes his hold after idle threats from Johnson. Eventually, this scene comes to a close at the top of the ramp, where on each side of Robinson, Deicide and Salazar hold up one of his arms victoriously; whilst in their other hands hang their perspective halves of the Undisputed Tag Team Championships.

Winner: Sean Robinson @ 20 minutes, 14 seconds

Liquid Strength

The camera cuts on, fading in from a commercial for Billy’s BBQ, to show a very clean and shiny Chevrolet Tahoe pulling up outside of a very delapidated single-wide trailer. The man’s head is shaking back and forth as he looks down at a map, GPS, or something and then back up to the trailer. After a few moments the door opens up, and Larry Gordon steps out dressed impecably in a red golf shirt, khaki pants, and brown loafers. He wipes off a bit of non-existent lint from his shirt before stepping up the rickety steps and into the holey sheltered area, the boards underfoot nearly rotted from the rain that pours through the holes in the tiny porch roof. Knocking on the door Larry stands for several moments, knocking several times, eventually a man opens the door.

The man is dressed in tighty whities, a yellow piss stain in the front, no shirt, and a ring of blueish white substance around his nose; make a note that it is both nostrils. Gordon looks on the man with disgust before calming himself and taking a deep breath, which causes him to immediately gag from some unknown stench. Bobby Lee looks at the man with a glassy eyed stare as Larry almost, but barely avoids, vomitting over the rotted porch railing.

Lee: “Yes Warry?”

He giggles.

Lee: “Wanna want?”

Gordon, still breathing heavily, responds.

Gordon: “You’ve got to get in fighting shape and kick Dale Petty’s ass!”

Lee shakes visibly in fear at the name of the hardcore artist formerly known as Bubba J.

Lee: “Nope, my sugaries and me are just fine without facing that man, thankies.”

He goes to shut the door.

Gordon: “But the entire company of Rebel Pro rests on your shoulders! Don’t you care?”

Bobby Lee looks out at something for a while.

Lee: “Nope, the evil zoards of Quintelplog have taken over.”

Gordon is disgusted.

Gordon: “No they have not!”

Lee: “That is exactly what they would say, mayb e they’ve got control of your wee little brain as well.”

Gordon, visibly pissed, holds his anger in.

Gordon: “I have not been taken over by any of them. You, an official member of the Rebel Pro roster, are booked in a match.”

Lee shakes his head.

Lee: “Not me, I retired.”

Gordon: “No, you did not!”

Lee: “Did so.”

Gordon: “Did not!”

Lee: “Did so!”

Gordon: “Did not!”

Lee nods.

Lee: “I just confirmed it, you have been taken over, your brain is infested with the slogs from the planet Xenoplog, its hopeless for you. Have a nice day.”

Lee goes to shut the door in Larry’s face.

Gordon: “There is a pile of sugaries in it for you.”

The door slams shut, a slight pause, then quickly reopens with Lee standing there.

Lee: “Sugaries?”

Gordon, a wicked smile on his face, nods.

Gordon: “Lots of sugaries, the best sugaries.”

Lee begins to salivate.

Gordon: “And edible grass too!”

Lee nearly swoons from the overload of his favorite things.

Gordon: “And there is a ton of liquid strength.”

Lee: “Strength… liquid strength?”

Gordon nods, pulling out a syringe.

Gordon: “Here is a sample.”

Lee: “A needle? I don’t like needles…”

Lee is a bit fearful, but Gordon encourages him.

Gordon: “Give it a try and see.”

Without waiting Gordon shoves the needle in and releases a dose of “strength” into Lee’s body.

Lee: “Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

Lee crumples against the door frame for a moment before ripping the door off its hinges and shoving Gordon down the steps.

Lee(much deeper voice, think Shaft or John Coughfey from Green Mile): “Lets Go!”

Gordon, with another wicked smile murmers to himself.

Gordon: “Good bye Dale Petty, good-bye for good!”

He holds his hand up.

Gordon: “Lets wait Bobby, you’ve got to get dressed first!”

Lee, who was in the middle of lifting the front part of the Tahoe up and down looks back at Gordon.

Lee: “What for? I am undefeatable!”

Gordon nods.

Gordon: “But you can’t wrestle if you get arrested.”

Lee thinks for a moment then nods.

Lee: “To the Sugarie palace to dawn the clothing of a champion!”

Gordon laughs and nods.

Gordon: “Go and do it my champion, throw fear into the face of Dale Petty!”

Lee runs inside, tearing a piece of the door off in his haste without noticing it.

Gordon: Dale, your days in this company are numbered, you’ve fucked with the wrong man.”

He looks over his shoulder.

Gordon: “No one will ever know.”

Southern Style

The weather outside is very pleasant, the sun is shining, very few clouds in the sky, but none of the mushy birds are chirping stuff… not for this guy anyways; not like he’s got control anyways. Dale is leaning up against a wall, his shoulders pressed heavily against the bricks, his left foot on the wall as well. A lit cigarette is in his mouth, the smoke curling up from

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the end as he smoker squints into the camera.

“Macca, as I said on live television, that was some of the funnest time that I’ve had in a ring and I’d really enjoy the chance to dance the dance of hardcore with you again.”

He nods.

“Now that the mutual respect bullshit is out of the way, and I meant every single word by the way, let me get down to the business of which I’ve recorded this little movie.”

He takes a drag.

“Larry “I’m as fat as a steroid saturated cow” Gordon, eater of the jizz burger, drinker of piss, and all around lover of the from unda cheese burger, forgot about that one there for a minute.”

A shake of the head, Larry disgusts him.

“It seems that Mr. Fat Ass is going to lose his ass, not the weight, but his ass concerning owning majority control of Rebel Pro.”

He makes that tisking sound.

“Such a shame too, when it all could have been avoided by just giving me my job back, giving my name back, selling Simon your two percent, or just shutting the hell up and listening to the fans. After all Gordon, they are what got you here, we carried them into the seats, we carried this company on our backs, watered your thirst for money with our blood, and then fertilized your fields of greed with our flesh… week in and week fucking out.”

He stares, taking a drag before tossing the cig away.

“But you couldn’t give one inch, you wanted to keep taking, taking, and when you were through taking; you wanted to take some more.”

He crosses his arms, looking extremely bully like.

“Well the redneck bully is back, different name, but same strong and hurtful punch.”

He laughs.

“And your champion is… Bobby Lee.”

He waits.

“Bobby Fucking Lee.”

He pauses again.

“Do I need to say it again? Do I need to remind you of the hopelessness of your situation? Do I need to remind you of your chances of walking out with a victory in this contest?”

A wait, he’s letting Larry think of this.

“And dear hapless Bobby Lee, all I need to say to you is boo and you’ve just pissed in your pants. I’m no alien, I’m no alter personality, I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m the bully that probably knocked your screws loose. I’m the original big bad dreams of your childhood. I’m the man that you don’t want to meet in a dark alley late at night. Hell, you don’t even want to meet me during the day time, because you are a quivering lump of dried up never hasbeen pussy. Did you get all of that Bobby? In case you didn’t, let me break it down for you.”

He keeps the arms crossed, but pauses before resuming that pose to light up.

“I’m going to kick your ass because you are nothing, you are less than nothing, you are so far into the realm of nothingness that… you really aren’t even there. You should have never signed up to compete here and tonight, I’m going to show you exactly why. I’m going to make you believe, because its damn true, that everyone else you’ve faced has been taking it easy on your ass.”

He smirks.

“And I’m going to love every single second of that shit, let me tell you. You won’t have to worry about seeing aliens for a long time, because I’m going to swell them pretty baby blues up for you. You won’t have to worry about hearing them talk to you, cause I’m gonna cauliflower your ears and cause you to hear nothing but ringing for weeks. You won’t be able to have your sugaries to comfort the pain either, cause I’m going to swell them lips up, so that you have to inject your meals through a damn tube down your nose for a month.”

He exhales.

“Best part, I’m gonna get paid to do it. You’ll quit Bobby Lee, in fact you’ll leave running, breaking your contract and probably your legs in the process.”

A shrug of indifference.

“And I don’t give a good damn, because when you squeal, its gonna be encouragement to me and cause me to go higher, dig into your flesh deper, and pour salt into that wound then piss on it for the hope of causing an infection in your blood stream.”

He waits.

“In fact, you might not be able to run away after all, cause you’ll be like a blind man running away from an oncoming train… you won’t be able to see where in the fuck you are headed… but let me give you a hint.”

He leans a bit forward.

“You are heading straight into an asswhoopin’ Southern Style.”

{fade to ringside.}

The Battle for 2% of REBEL Pro and Bubba’s Identity!

Bobby Lee versus Dale Petty

Jenny Jersey: The following match is set for one fall and is for 2 percent control of Rebel Pro, for Dale to receive his name “Bubba J”, and is your Aggression Main Event of the evening!

Dale hops from the crowd, not even allowing anything but the first riff of “Badass” to play, he’s ready to get this done with.
“I’m A Rebel” queues up in the speakers and from the back, being trailed by super Bobby Lee, is the majority owner of Rebel Pro, to a thunderous ovation of boos, Larry Gordon. He steps into the ring, staring across at Dale Petty, who is just staring out much like Chuck Liddell before a MMA match.

Gordon: “Seeing as I’m majority owner of Rebel Pro, the following match is not stipulated fairly Dale Petty here has all to gain, but nothing to lose.”

He smirks.

Gordon: “He wants to brag about pulling things over on me, I’ve pulled something over on him.”

He laughs.

Gordon: “Dear less than intelligent Dale has unknowingly put something up in this match…”

The crowd is silent, Dale looks on at both men.

Gordon: “If he loses, he will never again be allowed to wrestle in any federation, under any name, under any identity, no way at all!”

Dale shrugs, not really listening or giving away anything. Gordon is a bit upset with the lack of reaction, but he’s gotten what he wants in evening up the stipulation here.

Ding Ding

Bubba J, no wait, he hasn’t earned that name just yet, but its inevitable as he’s facing Bobby Lee, licks his lips in anticipation of the blood to be shed here in this match. Dale jumps for Lee’s face, Lee knocks him back with a huge right hand, causing Gordon to laugh, Dale to spit out a tooth and blood, and Lee to look at his right hand; not to mention the crowd gasps in shock.

Linzi Martin: Whoa!

Dale smiles as he picks himself back up, spitting blood on the canvas and nodding at the shocked Bobby Lee, who seems to puff up his chest a bit. Dale comes rushing back in, but ducks under another right fist, nailing him in the kidneys and sending him stumbling back. Both men fall down and Dale is on Lee with rights and lefts, not relenting his assault at all, before kneeing him in the crotch and biting at his nose in an effort to maim him beyond recognition. Lee begins to scream in pain, Dale nailing him with repeated headbutts now, busting open his forehead and breaking his nose with an audible crunch. Dale rolls off the now bloody man, looking down at Gordon who is furious.

Dale: You want some fat man?!

Lee is up behind Dale, double upwards fist shot to the nuts, causes Dale to turn green and fall on the ropes. Larry jumps up to the apron, grabbing the back of Dale’s skull, pulling down with all of his considerable weight, turning his face purple quickly. Meanwhile Lee is behind him, kicking Dale repeatedly in the balls with the full force of his body and super juice enhanced talent.

Linzi Martin: Come on! This is bullshit!

The fans begin to chant “bullshit” over the entirety of the arena, but Gordon doesn’t relent at all, until Dale goes completely limp on the ropes, drool dribbling out of his mouth in a steady stream. Gordon winds up, punching the redneck right in the side of the face with a set of brass knuckles then backing up and doing the same with a series of shots, causing the Ragin’ Redneck to bleed profusely from the wound on the side of his temple. Lee picks up Dale, lifting him high over head with a gorilla press slam, tossing him over the side and to the concrete before leaping to the top turnbuckle and diving off with a double knee drop type of splash thing(its Bobby Lee, he doesn’t know much) onto the unconscious Dale Petty. Gordon is setting up a table, ordering Lee to powerbomb Dale from the top turnbuckle onto it and finish this in a hurry. Lee looks at Gordon.

Lee: “What is a powerbomb? I don’t like explosives.”

Gordon shakes his head and tries to explain it to Lee, who just isn’t understanding it correctly. Gordon then puts Dale between his legs, preparing him for a powerbomb, but Dale manages to nail him in the testicles, sending him onto the table. Dale stumbles back against the railing and is spent, that is all that he had. Lee walks over to Larry, who is puking on the floor from the huge amounts of pain coursing up through his groin, Lee gets right in his face.

Lee: “Is that how you do it?”

To reply Gordon pukes again, nothing much, but the sound and smell is horrible, some fans on the first couple of rows begin to gag as well. Lee is spun around, nailed right in the gut and sent to the Trailer Park, curtosey of Dale Petty!

Linzi Martin: “Pin him!”

But evidently that was a bit too much as well as Dale falls forward from the seated position and is gasping for breath still, he was held across that rope, while getting ball kicked, for several minutes. He begins to struggle back up to his hands and knees, slowly and ever so slowly back up to the kneeling position against the railing. Gordon nails him right in the face with a steel chair, though it was a very weak shot, Dale is a weak guy right now and it served its purpose. Gordon laughs right in his face, but a woman nails him in the side of the skull with what could be considered a brick laden pocketbook, its Rebel Pro… any thing is possible. Gordon stumbles down, bleeding a bit from his head… no wait, the woman had some ketchup on her pocketbook. Gordon stands back up, growling at her, allowing Dale to get back up to his knees. Dale reaches under the ring as Gordon is yelling at the woman and hollering for security to come and remove her from the premesis or they’ll be fired! Dale smiles behind him as he waits for Gordon to turn around. Larry spins around quickly, Dale nails him right in the face with a fire extinguisher before blowing most of the contents all over his face and stomping the shit out of his face for good measure.

Linzi Martin: What a shot! What a weird match! What?!

Lee growls in fury as he charges at Dale, catching him with a bulldog, taking him down to the concrete floor! Lee whips him into the ringpost before sending several kicks, stomps, punches, and shoulders into his midsection doubling him over. Lee rolls Dale back into the ring before coming off the top with a 1 person hurricanrana, told you he didn’t know much.

Linzi Martin: Weird, but somewhat effective I guess… first time I’ve ever seen a 1 man hurricanrana; trust Bobby Lee to fuck up even a wet dream.

Lee holds at his knees, but keeps on the offense as he lifts Dale up again over his head, though he’s struggling some now with the effort, but still manages it. Drop across the knee and Dale is winded once again, gasping heavily for breath, pouring blood from the wounds on his face and head. Gordon has gotten to a seated position on the outside, covered in garbage from the fans, who just don’t like him anymore; but he has an evil smirk on his face.

Larry: “Powerbomb!”

Lee looks over, nodding that he understands this time. Lee pulls Dale in for a powerbomb, before looking over at Gordon’s nod and the crowd’s gasp of shock that Dale is going to lose to Bobby Lee, even if he is super humanized. Lee struggles a bit, lifting, but can’t quite do it.

Linzi Martin: “Not like this! Dale can’t be gone from professional wrestling like this!”

Gordon is laughing at Dale’s predicament, Lee lifts up again, but can’t quite manage it. Lee nods, he remembers something, then promptly nails himself right in the nuts as hard as he can and falls down; Dale falls on top of him, out cold. The referee slides into position, Gordon struggles to get up, but has been tied to the railing!




The fans are cheering and laughing, glad for Bubba J’s win and laughing at Bobby Lee’s powerbomb.

Linzi Martin:(laughing hysterically) He thinks… he thinks… my gawd, he nailed himself right in the nuts cause he thought… he thought you were supposed to! Thank goodness for idiots like Bobby Lee, shows you the perfect reason not to do drugs.

Gordon is furious, extremely raging, beyond cureablely furious! He’s screaming at the top of his lungs!

Jenny Jersey: Winner of the match, receving his name back, receiving 2 percent control of Rebel Pro stock, the Ragin’ Redneck… Bubba J!

J rolls over, looking at Gordon right in the eye, the briefcase with 2 percent control being handed to Bubba. J rolls out of the ring and walks over to the now red faced, spittle running down his face, eyes blazing former majority owner of Rebel Pro… Larry Gordon. Bubba J holds out the case, looks at the crowd who all gasp in shock, then nudges Larry with it.

Bubba J: “All I wanted was my name back.”

J shrugs, Larry smirks thinking that he has just screwed Simon over once again and reaches out for the case.

Bubba J: “And the chance to do this again@!”

Trailer Park Trash!

The crowd roars their approval and anyone who was still sitting or had sat, jumped back up and cheered as Gordan was put down again.

Bubba J stands over the beaten, bloody, puke covered Gordon, holding the case up high and the crowd roaring their approval.


The Uproars defeat Golden Inferno
Justin Case defeats Jonathan Cage
Jake Norton defeats Marvin Wood and Macca
Sean Robinson defeats Anna Mathews
Bubba J as Dale Petty defeats Bobby Lee

Aggression 10-29-2012

Is that Larry’s Twin?

Aggression comes back from commercial as we tune in to see a camera angle showing the masses in attendance, the camera spins around before it comes to a halt before the “RebelTRON” then – a voice over the speakers – “Do you wanna get rocked?” the crowd perks up their cheers “LETS GET! LETS GET! ROCKED ROCKED ROCKET” – “Let’s get rocked” by Def Leppard hits the speakers, the crowd is unsure what to make of the music, as it was something new and different, (“WE DON’T LIKE THINGS THAT ARE DIFFERENT” Larry Gordon commented – to which, you the viewer, would reply; “shut the fuck up, Larry.”) the music continues a bit before a sort of familiar face walks out onto the stage, What we could make through the days of growth on the face, and the extra pounds, it seemed to be “Awesome” Alex Wilkie! Former Rebel Pro Tag Team Champion!

Jenny Jersey: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Please welcome… “AWESOME” Alex WILKIE!”

the crowd lets out a roar of cheers as Wilkie continues down the ring, “My God, he’s let himself go hasn’t he?” Larry Gordon would comment again, this time, you the viewer, should probably agree, that fat fuck has eaten more goddamn cheese burgers than the hamburgler, and he probably ate the hamburgler too, Wilkie hops up onto the apron, he was still pretty spry, though it was obvious that feat alone winded him just a bit, he stepped between the ropes and wandered over to Jenny Jersey who had an extra microphone ready for him. He accepted her offer graciously and even held the ropes open for her when she left the ring.

He wandered around the ring a bit more, not sure where to begin he kept bring the microphone up to his mouth then putting it back down. The fans were cheering and clapping, and some turbo-nerds were trying to start a “Fuck You, Wilkie!” chant but it wasn’t catching on.

Wilkie: “Let me just start by saying… You may have noticed something new and different about me…”

He stopped in the middle of the ring and flung his long and unkempt hair back.

Wilkie: “I haven’t had my hair dyed or styled in a couple months…”
The crowd laughed a bit, it was the cheesiest joke he could have told, even Larry Gordon had a better follow up that had involved Chunk and the Goonies, you the viewer would’ve been pissing yourself laughing, had his mic not cut out in some sort of technical difficulties situation right before he said it. Oh well, that’s show biz, kids!

Wilkie: “You all might be wondering why I’m here too… well, with last weeks little bit of news, Rebel Pro winning that battle with UX and buying them out, Kalis not only acquired all the talent in UX whom have been there since the beginning, but he also acquired all the people who hadn’t even appeared on television yet… one of those people were me! So as it stands now, I am a Rebel Pro Star!”

The crowd let out a burst of cheers, though it was short lived as Wilkie called for silence once again.

Wilkie: “But… unfortunately, In my wrestling career, both independent and professional, I’ve hurt myself alot… I wake up and my back locks, my knee is brittle like chalk, my ankles click like a clock when I walk. I even have to wear a brace for my cock.”

“Did that fucker just Seuss the shit out of Aggression?” Larry Gordon almost got up to get in that ring and sock Wilkie in the mouth, only Linzi Martin was holding him back.

Wilkie: “The fact of the matter is, I’d probably blow my knees out picking up the telephone, so I’ve talked to Simon and we both agreed in having me be more of a Part-Time wrestler, and a full time adviser would be better for the company as a whole.”

The crowd seemed to disagree with what was better for the company, judging by the amount of boo’s it got, Alex lifted up his hand to call for silence.

Wilkie: “I know how you all feel, I don’t want this to happen either… but..”

he stopped for a second and looked up to the ramp, the crowd turned to see what he was looking at, and a man walking down from the stage, hair slicked back, wearing jeans, and a shirt that said “Spread Cancer” – a Jake Norton shirt? Maybe it was a fan who jumped the rail? But he had an envelope in his hand. Finally when the lights shone on him, the spotlights revealed former Rebel Pro World Champion “The Coyote” Reece Paxton! Everyone including Larry Gordon asked “What in the jumpin jelly beans is this guy doing here?”

Wilkie was, unlike anyone else, pleased to see him, he clapped his hands alittle, trying to get the crowd to join in.

Wilkie: “Ladies and Gentlemen, unbeknownst to me, please welcome, Former Rebel Pro World Champion… REECE PAXTON!”

The crowd almost explodes with boo’s and jeers, security going into over-time to stop fans from jumping the rail to try and fight him for no particular reason. Reece made his way slowly and calmly to the ring, his head held high and his eyes looking down on everyone else. He walked up the steel steps and slipped between the middle ropes, going up straight up to Wilkie. You could hear over the jeers and boos Reece say “Give me the microphone, old man…”, Wilkie handed it over without a second thought and stepped back, mouthing “the floor is yours.”

Paxton: “Allow me to introduce myself… You might know me as “That fucker who burned your precious title.” or “That guy who fucked up Simon Kalis.” – but here in this ring, you will all refer to me as Mr. Paxton… You see, even though Simon bought up UX, and obtained all the talent there, I neglected to inform him that while he thinks he owns my contract… he really doesn’t… he might want to re-educate himself with the clause right smack dab in the middle of my contract that says I can wrestle with a company as long as its not in the AOWF or isn’t run by someone named Simon Kalis. So as soon as Simon bought UX my contract was null and void, and that’s fine with me, he would’ve signed me to a shit contract anyway…”

He held up the brown envelope though.

Paxton: “However, even when a door closes, I always make sure, I keep a window open, incase I have some unfinished business to attend to, and seeing as how Simon Kalis is still six feet above ground and breathing, my business with his company is far from finished…”

He opened up the envelope and pulled out a long slip of paper.

Paxton: “A while back, when I was recovering from the assault I suffered when Simon Kalis stole my title, I knew my contract was coming to an end, and I knew for a fact I wouldn’t be going back to any company run under the AOWF umbrella, so I decided to wait out my contract… however, three days before the end, Larry Gordon came to my house with his lawyer, and offered me this…”

He held up the paper, if you were sitting front row, you could make out the logo of Rebel Pro Wrestling, and the AOWF, the rest was blurry but it was quite obvious a contract.

Paxton: “Larry Gordon still owned majority of the company, and told me, I could sign this at any point in time and return to Rebel Pro, if I so choose… and even though Larry Gordon does not own any part of Rebel Pro… this contract is still valid… I’d read you the details but you morons probably couldn’t understand it anyway so I’ll lay down the real basic facts for you… if I sign this contract… I’m here for one full year… I cannot be fired… which is much better than what those chumps from UX were offered I can tell you that much… 50,000 dollar bonus? Peanuts to what I’ll be making…”

He smirked a bit.

Paxton: “But you know what… I don’t want to work here, I don’t want to work for a company, that’s owned by a man who’ll just as soon piss in your cereal and tell you its milk, I don’t want to work for a family of sluts, hypocrites, and down right fools, and I sure as hell, don’t want to work infront of a crowd of inbred redneck hicks, who would rather see other inbred hicks hit each other with beer cans, instead of seeing actual wrestling…”

The crowd went crazy with boos and jeers once again. Paxton pulled the paper back down and went to rip it, however, Wilkie stopped him, he had his own microphone again.

Wilkie: “Paxton! Wait wait wait… You don’t want to do that…”

Paxton looked at him, with a look of “How dare you touch me.”

Paxton: “How do you know what I WANT to do?”

Wilkie: “Because I know for a fact, that when I was training you, all you wanted to do was wrestle, remember when you told me that? Remember when you said you’d sooner put a bullet in your brain than work a nine to five?”

Wilkie nodded a bit, he could see he had gotten through to Paxton just a bit.

Wilkie: “Look, I know what its like to work for assholes… I’ve worked for Rob Robinson. I’ve worked for Chameleon, Shit, I worked for Gabe goddamn Shelly, but you know what, I’d suffer them again, if It meant I got to work between these ropes, and for these fans…”

he pointed out to the crowd, he got a short pop from it, “yay someone mentioned us!” they were probably thinking.

Wilkie: “I know you’re a smart guy, Paxton… and I know you know, signing that contract is the right thing to do…”

Wilkie reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, was this planned? Did wilkie know? Maybe he just likes to be prepared incase contract signings just seem to happen.

Wilkie: “Do the right thing.”

Paxton looked at the pen, then at the contract… he then took the pen and clicked it once, Wilkie nodded, a huge smile on his face. Paxton looked at him, then at the contract again… in one quick stroke his signed his name on the X. The crowd boo’ed louder than ever now, what the hell was Wilkie doing? Is this what was gonna happen if he was going to advise Rebel Pro?

Wilkie was standing back, smiling and clapping saying “I knew you a smart guy, I knew it!”.

Paxton smirked a bit, but then he dropped his microphone, contract and pen, turned around and kicked Wilkie right in the skull! Wilkie hits the mat hard as Paxton stands with his back to him… he takes in a deep breath and slicks his hair back… he turns and reaches down to pick up the microphone he dropped.

Paxton: “Let that be a message… to anyone in the back… for the next year… anyone in the locker room, Simon Kalis… even you Wilkie, You’re all my bitches.”

He drops the microphone again and delivers another hard kick to Wilkie gut, before he leaves the ring. No music, only the cries of outrage at Paxton, as he just laughs sadistically at the sight.

Commercial for Bar be Que, its the south, gotta have one.

Peace Be Upon Him

Sean Robinson stands in an empty REBEL Arena, just minutes before the doors opened to let the waiting crowd into the building. In a matter of moments, this will be a scene of pandemonium as fans rush to their seats, to the concession stand, to the merch booths. But right now, it’s downright peaceful. The crew has finished setting up the ring, so the din of hammers, wrenches, and power tools is long gone. The last preparations for the sound system have been completed, so the PA is silent for a few brief minutes. It’s the calm before the storm, to coin a phrase.

Sean Robinson:
“This is my favorite time, right before a show. Just standing here, looking around at the empty seats. Knowing that any minute now those fans are going to come storming in, begging for autographs and pictures. We’re demigods to these people. They very nearly worship the ground we walk on. And why not? We’re professional athletes, just like Tom Brady or Kobe Bryant. They see us as larger than life, kids look up to some of us, and hate others. The hardcore fans live and die with us, like a sports team’s fans do. We’re their escape from reality, and for a few short hours every week, we are the center of their universe.

But that’s where I stand out. You see, I’m not just the center of {i}their{/i} collective universe, I’m the center of {i}the{/i} universe. I’m the star that everything revolves around. I’m the greatest wrestler in the world. I’m more agile than any gymnast, I’m more charismatic than any actor, I’m stronger than any bodybuilder. I’m not just the perfect wrestler, I’m the perfect human being.

But no… No, not even that is entirely accurate. See, I’m no mere human. I’m the future. I’m the prophecy, and the prophet. I’m the messenger, and the message is me. I am the most high, I am he who is.

In your world, I’m God.”

He smiles, and steps out of the ring before heading to the backstage area.

Youhavetostartfromthebottomfag Match

Sean Robinson vs Jeremy Gold

This match wasn’t even really a match, as Jeremy Gold ran around the ring away from Sean Robinson for nearly the entire length. But eventually, about the five minute mark, Robinson juked and jived, spinning around and pointing out in the crowd next to Jeremy Gold. Gold, thinking this is just a ploy to stop him, shook his head from side to side. Sean pointed viamently though and someone tapped Gold on the shoulder, it was a man covered in blood with vampire teeth hissing at Gold. Jeremy stumbled back, the man laughing, but Gold fell right into Robinson’s arms, he hit his finisher solidly, but was distracted by Bobby Lee who stumbled down the ramp, his face covered in his sugaries. Lee stumbled into the ring yelling at Robinson for hurting his friend Gold and bitch slapped Robinson, who just looked at him, cause of the lack of power. Sean actually laughed at Bobby Lee who punched him with all he was worth, then he began yelling something about aliens, allowing Jeremy to manage an rollup as Lee pushed Robinson, causing him to stumble over Gold. He only got a two count and this served to piss Robinson off and then Lee stumbled out of the ring, following only something he could see and muttering about vampires don’t wear glitter as he stopped to look at the non glitter wearing vampire guy, who hissed and promptly caused Bobby Lee to piss himself as Robinson nailed Gold for the pin.

Winner: Sean Robinson 10:19

Commercial, vote already, well as soon as you can vote, go and do it already

Filmed Earlier

Filmed Earlier-
Tony Edison is seen in a hotel room, though we can’t be sure where. The camera is trained only on him, though we can tell the TV is on, but we have no idea what is on it. It’s audible, but totally indistinguishable. He looks around the room, and finally pays attention to the camera that’s been sitting there for at least a minute while he paced.

Edison: So here we sit now. Underground X Hall of Famer Tony Edison is shipped to North Carolina for this. D’Aquila shows us his worth, which though was an improvement from Willie Williams, was still not good. I did have faith in him, and now, I see I was wrong in thinking it. But these are the mistakes that we make I guess.

He heaves a sigh.

Edison: Seriously though, how did the damn Commies even get into that arena? Jesus. Typical cheap foreigner, doesn’t pay for decent security. He put his talent at risk and fourteen people were fucking murdered. MURDERED!

He tries to collect himself, breathing in and out deeply.

Edison: How he possibly thought he would be able to just brush that under the rug is totally beyond me. But hopefully something will change. This ownership wheel of death is becoming a bore to me.

He gets up and flips the TV off, and sighs again, staring out the window as the camera comes to show a profile view of him.

Edison: And yet here we are, the fourth owner I’ve worked under in the same affiliation. The wheel keeps spinning, but we continue to go nowhere. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

He laughs quietly. His face shows focus, with a hint of exhaustion.

Edison: And speaking of the same tired routines. I wrestle Jonathan Cage again? Jesus, Johnny. It’s like everywhere we go, the people just want me to keep showing that I’m better than you.

A smirk now.

Edison: Cage, we’ve got quite a history. Let’s go back, shall we? First, we’ll start with the Golden Age, although Fisher will probably sue me for this, considering he sued for rights to the old shit before. Whatever. My wallet’s over there, I’m sure I have enough for his fucking royalties. But back to the point. You remember those days Cage? The days of Killah Kain and Sinister Fiend. The days of that huge Cage clan…thing we had. The days that Reno Drake and Larry Fields were actually GOOD.

A huge smile now.

Edison: Yep. Those were the good days, weren’t they? I remember I wasn’t good then though. I was still a rookie. Wet behind the ears. Green. Whatever you want to call it, that was me. And there was a ‘pick on the new guy’ mentality to it all, or so it seemed. But I kept my head up and pushed along, all the way to Fisher going broke and leaving us all unemployed, completely randomly. Funny how the guys who put their asses on the line every week were given fair warning to find new work, eh?

Another chuckle, then back to his focused stare out the window.

Edison: Fast forward. We open again, only to close again. What’s there to say? It was a mistake to go back, and I know that now. But you learn from those mistakes. Anyway. We fast forward another four years. I get a call from Larry Fields! Imagine the surprise when he says he’s calling the “Original” UX clan back.

He nods, remembering back.

Edison: He called me, you, and Drake. He wanted to bring us back to show what we had. To show this generation that UX was ours, and always would be. But you had other plans. You sided with John Fisher and Reno Drake and your daughter. Now don’t get me wrong, that’s cool and all. But then you bailed anyway. You showed nothing of what we were about.

Shaking his head now, just so confused.

Edison: Then you come back as some sort of fucking AoWF Invasion plot? Man, screw that. That’s where the line was drawn, Cage. You had the balls to say you were “sooo” good, but hid behind fucking Simon Kalis the entire time. Christ, Cage, you just can’t grow a set of testicles at all, can you?

Edison turns directly to the camera now, staring straight into the lens.

Edison: And here we are, one on one yet again. I could go on a whole tangent about how I’m better than you, but I think that would be pointless. So I’ll leave it at this. Cage, I have no respect left for your ass. You’ve given me no reason to have any. But what you have given me a reason to do is beat you shitless. And I’ll do it with pride. I’ll do it with the UX crowd behind me the entire time. Because REBEL is not my home. AoWF is not my home. The Underground is, and it always will be. You can say whatever you want, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t care. I’m not doing it for anybody except myself. So say what you want, but we both know that when it comes down to it, I am a thousand times the man and superstar that you could ever dream to be. See you in the ring, motherfucker.

Singles Match of Ranoutofoddmatchtitleideas

Tony Edison vs Jonathan Cage

– Across from each other are two men who’ve fought countless battles in Underground X, but this time, there’s something at stake. No, not any championship or contendership, but one of two, depending who. For Jonathan, he seeks redemption coz his track has taken a sheer drop after a proverbial burial last week by Jake Norton, and a loss to indie darling, Tony Edison, would take the final eWo heavyweight champion down an unwanted course of derision. On the flip side, Edison comes into this match packing loads of ammo due to word-of-mouth hype of him being an astronomical defier of not just gravity but modern aerialist limits. Beating an established wrestler in the mainstream limelight would be desirable so Edison can penetrate a newfound audience.

-Five brief seconds pass during a silent and fixated dogging between these two, and lord only knows what went through their minds. You could make a valid case for what Edison likely thought, because, Edison unexpectedly ran forth like a rad samurai from some anime. Halfway across, Edison deliberately drops to the canvas but he still continues forward via baseball slide, which gets a response of leapfrog from Jonathan Cage. When Cage avoided the close encounter, Edison resurrected to his feet energetically as a certain heartbreak kid would. Straight after, Cage went to shoulder tackle Edison into the turnbuckle in front of them, but spidey senses tingled, so Edison mule kicked Cage in the midsection, then immediately sprung forward into the ropes and flew skyward for a moonsault legdrop that sent a bent Cage head-first into the mat! Fans popped, understandably, but Cage’s kickout before the second count surprised many!

-One minute later, a cockier than usual side of Edison shines when he reuses the ropes to launch himself into a rising Jonathan Cage with intentions to perform Cage’s own ‘springboard roundhouse kick’ but soon as Edison sprung, Cage spears! And what should have happened after that is Edison eats a spear, but instead, the slick acrobatic slips an arm around Cage’s head, so a headlock would help counter the spear midair into a DDT, which it fucking did. And fans once again creamed at the faster-than-a-blink double counter!

-Staying in control the next three minutes after that sweetness, Edison relies on safer go-to moves, such as: corkscrew plancha, slingshot senton, hurricanranas and flurries of forearm smashes. For the most part, Edison manhandled Cage, till Jonathan whipped a comic-book style comeback of kickboxing at a rate comparable to Mortal Kombat! Having backed Edison into a turnbuckle, Cage retaliated for Edison’s cheeky attempt of ‘Into the Light II’ (springboard roundhouse kick) by doing just that, and Cage’s roundhouse nearly broke Edison’s neck, it seemed! But we can assume it didn’t coz Edison raised the shoulder inches away from the third count.

-Setting Edison atop a turnbuckle, Cage backhand slaps the former Uncensored Champion twice, to some of our crowd’s amusement. Jonathan then climbs onto the second buckle, palms Edison in the mouth for good measure – that brought a wad of saliva shooting out of Tony’s mouth – double underhooks both of Edison’s arms – “This looks like a murder attempt” Gordon speculates – then dives backward for a piledriver!! “A DOUBLE UNDERHOOK PILEDRIVER” Linzi shouts into her headset at the sight of Edison bleeding from the forehead upon being turned over by Cage, who then cross-presses. Although that may have been the end of others, Edison upsets with a kickout before the two! “HOW IS HE NOT UNCONSCIOUS?!” Gordon wonders loudly.

- Shaking his head in disbelief, Cage then punches Edison once in the chest and twice in the testicles! That would be illegal in other AoWF promotions, but REBEL is marketed as ultra violent for a reason. Now wearing a crimson mask, Tony Edison is pulled onto his feet and locked in Cage’s headlock. Taking time to trash talk Edison, Cage delays whatever he planned, so Tony unleashes remaining strength for an overhead bridging suplex! Smartly releasing his headlock to power out, Cage stands only to dumbly have his story cut short by Edison’s Pele kick! Falling onto the canvas like dead meat, Cage permits Edison to rush up a nearby turnbuckle and corkscrew moonsault onto his upper spine! From there, all Edison had to do was roll Cage over, hook the leg and let the ref count the three!

Winner: Tony Edison in 12 mins, 27 secs

Commercial provided to you, free of charge, but it costs the sponsors a ton of freaking money and you probably just fast forwarded it or went to the fridge and got your ass something to eat and drink.

To The World, III

By the hand, Susan Boyle is led through the backstage area nearest to what is commonly referred to as ‘Gorilla Position’, where the PA system and curtains separate ringside and backstage. Acting as Susan’s guide is, of course, Jake Norton! Wearing plain and purely orange tights, black patent boots, and his ‘Cancer 3:16 – Spread Cancer’ vest, the lazy-eyed spectacle happily heads for the curtains, but Susan is visibly hesitant. When they came to the steel steps which would take them onto a small platform and a black curtain, Susan chose this moment to cease movement.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: I’m having second thoughts..

Nose flaring and eyebrows frown in annoyance, Norton’s honest feelings are masked within two seconds to deceive Susan with a more caring and sympathetic facial expression, which is successful.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Somewhere in this building, Justin is preparing himself to confess his equally deep and poetic love for you, too, Susan. Unfortunately, Justin is just as shy and vulnerable as you, Susan. He’s unsure of how to go about proposing. It’s you who must breakthrough if anything is to come of this.

Boosting her confidence and diminishing her fear, Norton continues up the stairway, and Susan follows as the incongruous tune of John Williams’ “E.T.” main theme notifies waiting fans of a new happening. Way down at ringside, Linzi Martin and Larry Gordon analyze this entrance, with Gordon being regularly pessimistic of this segment’s direction. So far, Norton’s came across as a textbook gentleman for allowing Susan to walk up the steps first, then jumping onto the apron to create an opening for Susan to step through. Predictably, REBEL Pro fans are somewhat aloof.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: My dear audience, I know that celebrity guest appearances are not your choice of drink, but please, give this a chance. It’s relevant!

Turning his attention to a nervous Susan, Norton sits his forearm atop her shoulder.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: I know how much Justin Case means to you lots.

Now, some voices retort bad words for the ‘Millennium Game’ from the seats.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: But he means more to this sweet pearl.

That forearm which rests on Susan’s shoulder wakens and hugs Susan’s lower backside, gently.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Your fan-mails have reached the internet, Susan.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: Have they?

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Yes. They’re quite passionate. Your heart was on full display.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: I see..

Softly curling his cheek at the sight of Susan’s metaphorical sad panda, Norton licks his sticky lips like a windshield wiper.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: The twisted promise of murdering a PWA official if Justin wished it, is startling.

Apparently not one to deal with Norton’s obvious toying, Susan’s eyes start swelling with tears and her lips pout, childlike.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: What have you, REBEL Fans, is Susan Boyle a mental loser?

Responding with a ‘hell yeah’, most of our audience jumps on the ‘shit-on-crazy-cat-lady’ bandwagon.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: What are you doing?? Are you having a laugh at my expense?

Smirking dickishly, Norton nods, and Susan’s flabbergasted!

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: Have you tricked me??

Shrugging with the smirk still intact, Norton looks out into the audience for support.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: To be honest, Susan, I’ve dragged you out here to send a message. Not to hook you up with Justin’s digits.

Mouth drops agape, and then Susan’s hand flies and slaps Norton! The REBEL Fans typically and collectively say, “Ooooh” but in a playful tone rather than actual surprise.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: I deserved that. Really, this is wrong of me. But, Susan, you of all people should know, wrestling fans love watching celebrities take a bump.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: Pardon me?

Toe kicking Susan in her disgusting camel toe (or floppy gut), Norton then impressively deadlifts what is likely a 260lb old hag.

{b}Linzi Martin{/b}: OH NO!

{b}Larry Gordon{/b}: SHE’S FIFTY-ONE, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!

Starfire Deluxe ’08 (stalling brainbuster) drops Susan Boyle onto her fragile head, instantly knocking her unconscious! As expected, Fans ignite like a mouthful of pop rocks.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Oh thank god, she was terrible! I’ve spent the better half of this week working her into coming!

{b}Larry Gordon{/b}: Yeah, beating on a helpless senior is a loud message, alright.

{b}Linzi Martin{/b}: I’m sure the media will have a field day with this one. Yay for free publicity?

Stepping onto the second turnbuckle, Norton situates himself in his favorite position.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Hey, you in the third row.

One female fan in particular holding who is possibly her baby, scowls at ‘Cancer Man’.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: I can understand how you’d not take kindly to my shtick, but, birdie, this is my version of the orange revolution. See, Adrian Kalis may be more about thrills and Benjamin Dyce prefers slamming bitches through canvases, but I swim in controversy. This is a well-known fact. Do I reckon ‘controversy creates cash’ (or even cake)? Sure, but I don’t base my prerogatives on what reaps the most quid. In all actuality, I’m about doing whatever I, myself, find funny. Planting Susan Boyle on her head is unfortunately one of those ripsnorters.

PWA or TGW fans might find Norton’s actions despicable, but REBELs are not a wholly politically correct fanbase. These are bloodthirsty; dark-humored bunches who’re about ‘rolfs’.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Since we’re on the subject of my notoriety, let’s revisit those questions I asked you all to note. Last week, I answered “what challenge does Norton offer his peers” by grounding Jonathan Cage in realism. This week, I’m answering “what difference will Norton make in REBEL considering all the notorious baggage he carries?”

Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Norton’s lips move silently in a manner indicating mumbles.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: To put it simply, Justin, I am willing to do things that others are not. Not many have the nuts to do what I just did to Susan Boyle. Why? Because she’s old, has a vagina, and has the IQ of a Justin Case fan. They’d cringe at the heavy fire I might take from our network, REBEL’s administration, and all sorts of other uptight critics. But you know what, Justin? There are people out there who massively enjoyed what I just did, and that’s why I did it. I’m providing them the entertainment they want. Put it this way, if the AoWF were food, it’d be a pretzel without salt. I am looking to spice things up by just doing things my own way; trying to stick out of this sea of same. That’s all the people want from us wrestlers; personality.

Turning around so Norton sits atop the turnbuckle, he slouches forward.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: The Orange Revolution isn’t a highly-evolved movement on how to innovate or the like. Basically, the whole point of us is to just encourage distinction, but rightfully. Me? I do controversy better than anyone. I can’t be absurd like Anna Mathews. That’s her gig. Simon Kalis is the best at being badass. And The Phoenix masters the art of no-selling. Those are three people off the top who can draw, entertain both on the mic and in the ring, and don’t have to worry about millimeter game, Justin Case, taking their spots.

Inhaling air through a quick but somehow arrogant sniff, Norton’s eyes dart sideways.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: “Behind the scenes, your manager, the Jizz, is your ring-rat. I get it. That guy blows his load over whatever you do, but you should ditch him. He’s not improving your image nor legitimizing your claims of ‘talent’. What’s the point of a manager, anyway? To help someone who can’t promote themselves beneficially, right? Well, Justin, just like Jonathan Cage before you, I doubt anybody thinks of Justin Case when discussing ‘good promos’ or matches, even without this wiz of TALENT.

A lot of your math-talk just doesn’t add up, either. Like, for example, you keep exaggerating how fucking ‘talented’ you are, and, for the life of me, I don’t get how anyone tolerates listening to you? Maybe fans get through a Justin Case promo knowing Dale Petty comes on next, or that someone, like me, is bound to call you out for all this bullshitting, and it’ll be funny.

Oh, here’s one thing really awful about you. You actually label yourself as a franchise killer. Why? What fucking ‘franchise’ have you killed? What makes you think you have this humungous amount of heat that enables this piss-poor fantasy of you being someone that important? This just makes no fucking sense. It would if you were a parody of all the shitty wrestlers out there like Alison James, but you’re not. You’re actually, honest-to-god bad. This is who you are, and what you do with your energy. And it’s offensive.

Frankly, Justin, what really grinds me is that I know there are many fools just like you in the AoWF. There has to be, otherwise why the need for a Movement? Adrian Kalis wouldn’t start a revolution if things weren’t pitifully trite. No, I’m offended because even though I’ve said many valid points in this promo, it was done rather basic. Like, I don’t feel it’s been all that creative, yet the notion of me needing to be creative against such an unoriginal, uninteresting, an anticlimactic threat of an ‘opponent’, is rubbish.”

Distracted by his intense promo, Norton doesn’t see Susan Boyle stirring in the background.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Sometimes, whenever I hear one of your promos, Justin, I envision you being real fucking ecstatic afterward, thinking you’ve just said some deep shit, and rightfully so after the Jizz finishes stroking your unreasonably gigantic, inflatable ego, but then depressingly crushed after jobbing out to Mister Hardcore, you fucking loser.

Now standing, Susan Boyle seems majorly lost in a cartoonish haze, judging by her silly looks. Becoming aware of this, Norton hops off his spot and approaches.

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Susan, love. You’ve taken a fall for the worse!

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: Herve Aye?

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Yes. You’re supposed to be singing, not taking a snooze.

Giving Susan the microphone, she instinctively begins her a cappella.

{b}Susan Boyle{/b}: I dreamed a dream in time gone by. When hope was high and life worth living, I dreamed that love would never die!

Suddenly toe kicked once more, the crowd erupts as Norton plants her with another stalling brainbuster!

{b}Jake Norton{/b}: Fuck you, Justin Case. This show isn’t yours, it belongs to the Orange Revolution, you colorless bitch. Get out here so I can close this case.

Susan Boyle First Blood Match

Justin Case vs Jake Norton

Jake Norton met Justin Case in the center of the ring and began to just pound away on the returning 2 time Rebel Pro World Champion. Norton wouldn’t let up either and while Case did manage some offense, it was not near enough as Norton was just dominating him from post to post and side to side. It got so violently against Case at one point that Dale Petty came down to watch, as we all know he doesn’t like Justin Case at all. Dale gave his nod of approval to Jake, which allowed Justin to get in a bit of offense, nailing Norton with a chair; though Dale tried to warn Norton about the weapon. Justin beat Norton down in the corner, but was unable to make him bleed at all, then he noticed Dale Petty near ringside and began to jaw at him as Dale was holding his favorite hoomemade weapon “Ripper” at his side Dale looked over Justin’s shoulders, causing him to spin around, and here came Susan to try and stop Petty from interfering. Dale slipped the bat in to Norton as Case tried to keep Susan from getting involved in the match. Dale patted Norton on the shoulder and as Case turned back around, Norton nailed him with the aluminum bat wrapped in barbed wire, covered in tacks, glass, and old blood; causing his forehead to split and a crimson mask to appear.

Winner: Jake Norton 19:37

Commercial ffor AOWF, we encourage you to do something

I Am Macca!

Enter the Cunt Guy

Pushing aside the big metal/wood hybrid door, Macca makes his way into the REBEL arena. Stopping for a moment to take in his new surroundings with a quick rotation of his head, Macca adjusts the strap of the bag over his arm before letting his trademark shit eating smirk settle on his face. Moving to continue forward he is stopped by REBEL reporter, Marvin Humperdink, who has appeared in front of him out of thin air as most reporters tend to have a habit of doing (like fucking paparazzi ninjas or something).

Sweet fucking….. Where did you come from?

Marvin Humperdink:
Mr. McDonald, I was hoping I could get your comments on entering the REBEL arena for the first time as a roster member.

Macca stares at Humperdink for a moment. Did that fucker just use his real name? Oh heeeeeell no girlfriend!

First off the name is Macca. Nothing more, nothing less. As for REBEL? It’s a snazzy little place. I could see myself fitting in here very nicely.

Marvin’s head rockets around like an imitation bobble head doll as he agrees to whatever leaves Macca’s mouth.

Marvin Humperdink:
You already have won over some of the REBEL fans but the great majority are still yet to open up to you. Mind you, you still have the support of the old UX fans. With that said do you think your momentum at winning championships in UX and the small, but very vocal, group of followers you have will allow you to reach the same heights you did in UX here in REBEL?

Well Marv’ there are some things that the REBEL fans need to learn. They think that I come in here as a UX star trying to say I am better than every current REBEL star just because I came from the X. That is crap. They say that I shouldn’t blow my own trumpet just because I won some championships in UX. There they are correct. A UX championship doesn’t mean shit here, hell it hardly meant fuck all there also, as proved by the fact I ended up dumping one in a bin in the arena car.

That head of Marvin’s is bobbling like a mad motherfucker as Macca continues on.

The reason I won championships in UX is not because of UX itself but because of one thing, and that things is called Macca. I plan to keep my steam rolling up here in REBEL and not because I have to show everyone up because I’m one of the new guys from the company that folded but simply because I am Macca and REBEL has just become my fucking Sparta!

Ohhhhhhhhh shit! Throw down the fucking gauntlet Macca! Scribbling something down on a note pad that is conveniently in his hands, Marvin continues on with his next question.

Marvin Humperdink:
Speaking of keeping up momentum, Your first opponent in REBEL will be Dale Petty, a REBEL household name. Do you have any worries about your debut match? Have you done your research on your opponent?

Honestly I know sweet fuck all about this bloke. I suppose I could have looked into some of his history with REBEL but honestly what would be the point? When your background is beating the piss out of blokes who have had a few too many, you quickly learn that knowing somebody’s background really isn’t needed to beat their ass down. I have been told that he is a former champion himself, although that means as much to me as my championship history probably means to him. There is one thing however that has got me curious. An interesting little fact that I caught so I want to extend this question out to him to see if he can give me an answer.

Macca has a cross between a look of confusion and humour on his face as he leans into the camera.

Dale, did your parents give you a name that would result in your initials being DP because they didn’t know if you would grow up to be an asshole or a cunt so thought ‘fuck it, we’ll just go with both to be safe’? Cheers that, cunts!

And with that Macca leaves Marvin and continues his walk down the halls of his new home.

Good Time

Dale Petty sits in the backstage area of some arena, we know it isn’t the one most recently used, well at least there isn’t any crowd noise. Dale sits on a wooden folding chair, one of the vintage kind, his forearms on his knees and his head hanging down to face the floor.

“Underground X invading Rebel Pro… it all seems sort of, familiar… if you know what I mean.”

A chuckle.

“But of course you all wouldn’t because you all weren’t here during those times, none of you wrestlers were anyways. Sure the rump wrangling faggat Justin Case was there for a bit of it but can you even count someone who’s mission it is to beat Jeremy Gold’s ass?”

He raises his head to reveal a raised eyebrow.

“If that doesn’t confirm that he’s a ass banging butt pirate, then I guess he’ll have to put pink bows in his hair and go around singing Shirly Temple tunes while wearing a tu tu and olaying like a ballarena.”

He shakes his head in disgust.

“But the more important thing is this invasion by Underground X, or the purchase of it by Simon Kalis, or whatever in the fuck really happened, because I don’t give a damn. All I know is that I’ve been around this company nearly since its inception and finally there is some new blood to spill.”

He smirks.

“Except for Marina Blue and Sean Robinson, for the most part. Anyways, there is a couple of familiar faces coming back, back to the place where their blood is spilt most often and most assuredly in great quantities.”

He leans back, pulling out a Marlboro Menthol Light and lighting up.

“But I’ve got one of the baddest apparently in Macca this week…”

He sits back still, squinting through the smoke.

“Apparantly one of the baddest asses in all of the UX federation, facing off against terroristic threats, then bashing the former owner in the face with a beer bottle.”

He nods.

“Good job son, but you are facing someone who has done tht before, and much worse. Ask your new boss who kicked his ass all over a junkyard. Sure, I’ll go ahead and tell you that he did defeat me, but that still doesn’t mean that I didn’t kick his ass all over that junkyard… as he did mine. See if you can get ahold of Rex Caliber, ask him what all we did to each other… in case you are wondering, he’s the former guy in charge round these parts. See, I’ve always been at management’s throat, so I’ve got a bit of appreciation for that sort of thing, even if its all been done before. You gotta get your little shot in, bloody his face, humiliate him, all sorts of fun things.”

He flicks the ash.

“But you are talking to someone who has done it all, seen all the movies, got the entire series of t-shirts… and don’t give a shit what you are trying here.”

He’s starting to growl.

“While I do apprecinate the effort… this is my playground asshole. This is my yard, this is my dominion and I’ve got the daddy pants on. I’m the big bully that people give their lunch money to and when they watch all of those help films that tell them to stand up to the bully…”

He smirks.

“I’m the bully that kicks their ass then takes their lunch money anyways.”

Another flick.

“So, I don’t give a damn what you’ve done in the past, what championships you’ve held, the number of matches that you’ve won.”

A shake of the head.

“Not because that happened in Underground X and this is Rebel Pro… but simply because I don’t give a shit about that. See Macca, you’ve not watched me, I’ve not watched you… we know next to nothing about each other, so let me be professor Dale Petty for right now…”

He leans forward.

“I’ve bloodied more people than you can ever hope to dream of, I’m like the universal menstrul man… because I make everyone bleed, cramp up, and bleed some more… except I don’t just stay around for five or so days… I’m here all the fucking time. I make you bleed, I make you cry out in pain, and then I smile as I rub salt in that wound… because I am a bad ass sum bitch and I don’t back down from nobody.”

He flicks the ash again, then takes a drag.

“That is why I don’t give a flying free fuck what you’ve done in the past, because it don’t matter a damn. You’ll bleed just like Simon Kalis will. You’ll bleed just like Jeremy Gold will. You’ll bleed just like the hopeless wonder Bobby Lee… But my question is this Macca… will you scream and cry like Justin Case will? Will you beg for mercy like Justin Case? Will you ask me to stop like Justin Case will? Will you be a man and take your ass whooping or will you curl up like a little girl…”

He shrugs and smiles.

“Justin Case-like?”

He puts the cigarette down, grinding it out on the floor.

“I’m glad you all came to Rebel Pro, hell Macca, I even like you a little bit. I like your style… it reminds me of myself. But with that said, I’ve been there, I’ve done that, I’ve kicked ass and not worried about names. You will be nothing more to me than another notch on my belt if I win and just another ass that I’ve kicked if I lose the match.”

He smirks.

“So regardless of whether I win or regardless of I lose, one garantee that you and everyone else can have is this… I’m kicking someone’s ass and they are going to know who I am. Virgil liked his technical wrestling, I love my hardcore… who came out on top? Who won that match? Who kicked that ass?”

He just stares at the camera.

“I’m not saying the name, but you are looking right at him and listening to his promo. I look forward to our first match Macca, bring the pain motherfucker, bring the motherfucking pain. If I ain’t seeing stars, I ain’t having fun… and I want to have fun. If I don’t see your blood… then I ain’t having a good time… and I always have a good time.”


REBEL Icon versus X’erground Legend!

Rebel Legend vs X’er Legend

Dale Petty vs Macca

- Dale Petty, a beer-drinking, tobacco-smoking, bare-knuckle extremist, who also happens to be a former World Heavyweight Champion, meets another beer-drinking, but rubber-duck-loving, lippy, yippee-kai-yay cuntster, in Macca, the last Undisputed Champion of UX. Regular viewers of the REBEL product are depressingly ignorant to the heavenly buildup smarks are gleefully heaping. Heck, once you see the match for yourself, one would wonder why Simon Kalis booked an easy pay-per-view main event on a weekly edition of Aggression. But, that’s just it. Only those exposed to both men’s careers would recognize the dreaminess quality. Many are not. So, for Macca, defeating the highly regarded Bubba J (or Dale Petty, whichever you prefer) would skyrocket his reputation. Alternatively, Bubba needs this win to secure himself as REBEL’s top dog unless he wants to be flicked away by these X’er invaders looking to claim high ranking.

- Almost divided in support, the crowd chants back-and-forth for their boys. “X’er Cunt! X’er Cunt!” could only mean Macca, whose trademark shit-eating smirk is evident, whilst “Bubba J! Bubba J!” is a no-brainer. However, it should be noted, Dale’s support is larger in numbers but Macca’s is passionately noisy. “Even though Underground X is dead, fans of that small, western promotion are ever-growing.” Linzi acknowledges. “Commercial success in postmortem is bittersweet.” Gordon believes.

- Circling one another, Dale and Macca feel each other out with soft jabs that don’t make contact but see where both are at, mentally. Neither pussy out; in fact, out of the blue, both explode at center, blasting each other with lefts and rights, like fucking super saiyans! Fans collectively cheer as they watch both men keep their ground in this throwdown; waiting to see who backs down first. Thirty seconds pass before both men simultaneously retreat into their corners. Macca, whose lip is busted, skin around eyes are puffing, and right arm is shielding his ribs, obnoxiously grins at a nose-bleeding, red-in-the-face, Dale Petty, who also returns the grin.

- Coming out of the corners together, they meet in the center of the ring, once more, but this time exchanging words rather than fists. Fans eagerly await the next whirlwind, and, who knows what Dale said, but it prompted a sharp Cuntster slap, which triggers another storm of knuckle sandwiches! Surpassing the thirty second mileage of their previous dance, who knows how long the pair would’ve stayed at this blow-for-blow rate, if not for Dale ramming Macca in the gut with his knee! “Macca fans didn’t like Dale resorting to a knee strike” Gordon observes. “There’s nothing wrong with that” Linzi defends. “Nope, but the two were obviously testing out each other’s punch-power” Gordon retorts. “That’s unspoken for.” Linzi finishes.

- After the ‘game-changing’ knee shot, Dale uppercuts Macca into the ropes, making it easier to light the Cuntster up with body shots! “Macca was nursing his stomach earlier, who knows what damage is happening now” Linzi says as one more uppercut sends Macca backward, over-the-top-rope and tumbling along the outside! Ascending the turnbuckle, Dale’s ax handle drop clonks Macca upon his standing! Right after, a Russian leg-sweep into the guardrail wounds them both equally, but to Dale’s preference.

- Can after can, Dale pours beer given to him by fans onto Macca, who’s having trouble adjusting his senses after being tossed from a military pressed position into a ringpost. Talking some mad trash to the little Cuntster, Dale then snap suplexes Macca into the guardrail, spine-first! Naturally, after such a sick bump, many would assume it safe for Dale to push Macca inside the ring and cover, but Macca disagrees via raised shoulder! Mounting the Cunt, Bubba’s rapid thunder strikes crack Macca’s face as if pavement. “This is the second crimson mask we’ve seen tonight!” Gordon recognizes.

- Pulling a wounded Macca onto his feet, (blood spilling to the mat and limbs hanging loosely, Macca looks very much done) Dale positions Macca’s head between his thighs. Trying to lift the 170lbs Australian, Macca prevents by deadening his weight and falling onto his knees. Very predictably, Macca then uppercuts Dale’s testicles, producing a hoarse groan from the multi World Champion, and rape tackles Dale onto the canvas, concluding in a tight schoolboy that narrowly gets the three! “DID DALE KICK OUT?! IT LOOKS LIKE HE KICKED OUT!” Linzi yells, baffled by the finish! “Let’s get a replay” Gordon calls. When the footage reviews the final seconds, Dale kicked out a millisecond too late!

- As wild as football fans buzz for their team scoring a goal, Macca’s victory surprisingly gets well-deserved approval! At first, the Cunt seemed unsure of what he just viagra generico online accomplished, but that toothy grin reappears, letting us know he’s solved the puzzle!

Winner: Macca in 11 mins, 2 seconds

Commercial for something else, but again you probably went outside to fill your lungs with a ton of cancerous causing smoke as you puff on a cigarette causing more smoke to climb into the air than a coal driven locomotive back in the 1800s

Herrrrres Johnnnnnnny!

Johnny wakes up to film his segment. He yawns and pours himself a glass of orange juice. He takes a drink and then has a look at the calendar. He truns and spits out his orange juice in the face of his roommate Allen who had just walked into the room.

Johnny: {color=dodgerblue}OCTOBER 29TH!?!?!{/color}

Allen: {color=yellow}You spat orange juice in my face.{/color}

Johnny: {color=dodgerblue}OCTOBER 29th!?!?!?!{/color}

Allen: {color=yellow}Yes. That is the current date.{/color}

Johnny storms out of the room and into his very large closet.

Johnny: {color=dodgerblue}Come on! I have a costume for you, too!{/color}

Allen: {color=yellow}Costume?{/color}


{size=200}HALLOWEEN TIPS!{/size}

Allen is wearing a sloppily pieced together costume with a hunch on it’s back.

Allen: {color=yellow}This is retarded.{/color}

The Crimson Ghost enters the room, as frightening as ever.

The Ghost: {color=red}Oh, I’m sorry…would you rather be in your ridiculous cartoon dog costume?{/color}

Allen: {color=yellow}First off,{/color} {url=}my costume this year is awesome.{/url} {color=yellow}Secondly, you could have at least put some effort into it.{/color}

The Ghost: {color=red}Oh, give it a rest Algor.{/color}

Algor: {color=yellow}Is that supposed to be like ‘igor’? Because I sound like a character from the Chronicles of Narnia.{/color}

The Ghost: {color=red}Silence. Good evening, boys and ghouls. Welcome to my humble abode where I, the Crimson Ghost will be teaching you the do’s and dont’s of Halloween. I’m something of an authority on the subject. What is the first do, you ask? DO make the trick or treaters work for it. I went….overboard on the lawn decorations this year.{/color}

We cut to a child in a mummy costume approaching the house only to be greeted by a well crafted, terribly violent display of brutality on the front lawn. Like a scene out of one of the ‘Saw’ films. The child runs from the house screaming and we cut back to The Ghost in his home holding a full bowl of candy.

The Ghost: {color=red}Saves you a TON of money on candy….though admittedly that doesnt balance out considering the cost of the display. Hm. Anyway, our second tip is very important. DO Wear a good costume! If a trick or treater makes it through the hellish display on your lawn and they have gone the extra mile as far as costuming goes, make sure they are rewarded.{/color}

We cut to a group of children ringing the doorbell, each of them dressed to the nines as a member of ‘The Avengers’. Algor answers the door and gives each of them a full sized candy bar and sends them on their way.

The Ghost (voiceover): {color=red}But DON’T reward kids in bad costumes. In fact, the opposite is my reccomended approach.{/color}

A second group of children show up, each dressed as an Avenger as well but there was clearly less effort. Thor had a bedsheet cape, Captain America had a garbage can lid shield. This would not do. The Crimson Ghost opens the door and vomits blood all over them and they run away screaming. He closes the door and turns back to Algor.

Algor: {color=yellow}You…are one sick fuck.{/color}

The Ghost: {color=red}And the following is just a good life lesson….DON’T be Might and Magic. You see, Might and Magic have the misfortune of being teamed against the pairing of Johnny Maverick and Anna Mathews. These unfortunate souls should be pitied, but instead let us celebrate the oncoming victory of ‘Kontroversy Kreates Kake’, a tram of multi-time world champions facing off against two men who will go down in the history books for being…Rob Robinsons friends. Can you endure the insanity? Could you possibly survive the accumulated wrestling talent? Do you think you can stop these two from getting to the REBEL Pro Tag Team Titles? Cesar Salazar will not stop them. Deicide will not stop them. Moke Doshky and the Dragon will not stop them. Anna Mathews are the Full-sized candy bars of the wrestling world. Might and Magic are the Popcorn ball and the Toothbrush. The shitty throw-away non-candy.{/color}

Algor: {color=yellow}Harsh.{/color}

The Ghost: {color=red}Speaking of which, that reminds me of our last tip.{/color}

We cut to Algor and The Crimson Ghost taking Allens nephew Rusty trick-or-treating. Rusty rings the doorbell and gives a good ‘Trick Or Treat’ only to have a pencil put in his trick or treat bag. The Crimson Ghost steps in front of Rusty and spits a mist of blood in the mans eyes. He starts writhing on the ground in pain. The Ghost turns to the camera and removes his mask. Gasp! It’s Johnny! Oh wait, everyone already knew that.

Johnny: {color=dodgerblue}Quality is key. Never accept any less than the best. Happy Halloween.{/color}

Johnny smirks as we fade to black.

Yakkity Yack

Seeing as how this is one of those “wrestler comes out and yaks on a microphone” segments, the commentators are rendered useless and are replaces by cardboard cutouts. Besides, it’s not like we really care what they’re saying during these things. But we’ll pretend.

Commentator Uno: Bork Bork Bork bork bork bork.

Commentator Dos: Wins wins inny wins ins winner!

Suddenly, a wild Dodo appears to the delight of everyone! She has the Aggression shiny in hand. But she doesn’t walk to the ring. Anna drives in with an invisible car that seems to sputter and wheeze all the time. Confetti is everywhere and cake is provided. As she nears the ring, her ride breaks down forcing as lot of kicking at air. She snatches a microphone. Shocker.

Anna Mathews: Hold et! Befoure I sai annyfing, I no that yer probably gonna hear a lotta ranty boring stuffs in the near future and four that, I sincerely apologize but…wood joo guise mynd yif aye gots own my own soapbox and started bitchin’?

Naturally, they don’t. Anna drops the mic and wanders over to the commentater’s booth. She crawls over the table in between whatever commentating team in occuping it at the time. (Seriously. We’ve got like what? Twenty? Can any of them speak Spanish?) After rummaging under the desk. She finally finds her soapbox and hurls it into the ring cialis com 4 comprimidos where it makes a perfect landing. Many gitting into the ring shenanigans later…

Anna Mathews: Mmm-kai. Furst question. Hoo the hell envited olive these UX Peeps?

Fairly mixed reactions. Sure, you’ve got the Underground X marks going nuts and the pure Rebel fans getting all grr-like. But quite a few of ‘em still don’t know what to make of it all.

Anna Mathews: Meh. It’s okay. I don’t mind new fases. Oar iz it old faces? Because I no mii an old Deicide met somewhere…

Cheap pop for Victory. Fuck yeah, Victory.

Anna Mathews: …but the guy next tu him ish something different. Rich, powerful, actually nose how to groom hisself. An supposedlee, they were oar are or should be Rebel Pro’s taggy champs because Matt Stone izza living vat of chickenshit and Emily Corlen followed him ‘round lika puppey dawg right out of Rebel.

Le shrug.

Anna Mathews: Whatevs, man. Me purrsonally, Eye prefer to actually earn my shinys. Thar’s a bit moar accomplishment than simple saying “Wii usta be champs there and you haz none and we want them”. But I cee the point. There’s nut really vewwy many teams here. Why the hell not?

She raises a finger.

Anna Mathews: Xcept there ish still one. And really, we’ve had a momento to kinda heal ourselves and whatever. Besides the champions arr only as good as their competition. That’s why whenever ye old conkshell sounds off, the KKK answers the call.

Cheering! Yay!

Anna Mathews: Den we go frum one slice of gold to the other. Our world champion, Robbie McRobberson…whoops. I’m sorry. I mean the Phoenix and only the Phoenix, our new dark overlord.

All the booing in the stands. All the eye rolls in the ring.

Anna Mathews: Bitch, plz. You’re a Yoo-hoo obessesed millionaire whose making up this whole “RAWR CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION” schtick inn an attempt to regrow ur balls after reneging on yet another lolretirement. Here’s a newsflash, homeskillet. You can play supervillian til the cow’s come home and you may scare a few lil kids, but at the end of the dai? You’re knot that grrrrate, you’re nawt that special, n the vast majority ov us are already tired of this shit. You’re stil the syame flaky jackass that wins only when you attempt to giv a damn. Or when yer hoddie buddies deside to attack mii from behind.

Growing “Dat Ass” chant as she facepalms. Fucking double entendres. Fix it!

Anna Mathews: Hay! Speaking of attacking from behind, wat abowt Vrgil Keenan?

Congratulations! It evolved into a “Fuck you, Virgin” chant! Well, I guess that was inevitable. Everybody hates that cunt.

Anna Mathews: Ja kno, that maskie may covver up his face, but it kan’t hyde the yellow streak down his back. Two weeks ago after Virge got demolished by Great Poohbah Norton, he desided ta turn on my match ‘cause yif he couldn’t win, at least his ideals could win in the form of the Purist, rite?

For no reason whatsoever, PuppetSimon suddenly bungie jumps from the rafters and whips out an air horn. ENNNNNNT!

Anna Mathews: Wrong. In a match that completelee fractured hiz pour microscpic brain, he saw hiz arch-nemesis generic viagra review actually out rassle Marvin Wood. It cunfused him because ever cents the furst time he laid eyes awn me, he considered hisself better than mii because “I’mma true wrestler and you’re just a barbarian blah blah blah.” Keenan xpected me to be killed by Woodrow in a matter of sekonds. Inn truth, I had that poor English muffen in his own move begging for mercy. That Aggression shiny was about to come bak home. It wuz never really Marvin’s. I didn’t actually lose the dam thing. But our masked crusader just hated to be rong. He LOATHED the thought ov admitting that it was all in some way interchangeable. Sew he came up with this lil nugget.

A hand whips around her back ad returns with a paper bag that’s decorated to look like Keenan’s mask. She puts it on her head.

PuppetVirgil?: erp derp im gonna run in there and cost anna the title and rant like I always do.

Laughter ensues as the Queen of the Dodos whips off the “mask”.

Anna Mathews: That’s xactly what he did. He tried to hide his cowardice, his fear of that all mighty ego being puctured, via the typical moralistic bullshit. He was right about one thing. The run in was legal according to Rebel Pro rules. An two a certain xtent, Marvin was right last weak when he said aye was a bit angry. But I wasn’t angry ‘cause Virgil ran in. Because despite what Virgil finks, he didn’t change history. All he did was delay the inevitable.

She lifts up the shiny to the fans and the happiness.

Anna Mathews: Noar was eye pissed because I lost the match. Wat rileling me up is that thar’s all the arrogant douchebags hoo honestly fink they has the right to be arrogant douchebags when they doan’t. Cereal. Can you remember the last time Virgin aktually did sumthing besides whine and bitch and try to leach offa utter people’s shine? Can you pinpoint an xact moment when Robbie wasn’t a total bitch? Can joo picture a promo where Woody wasn’t this smug know-it-all jackass who fought his shit doan’t stink because he held a billion championships for all of five seconds?

Silence. Everybody was pondering about this. Even you. Yes, you. Use that brain for once and think!

Anna Mathews: Yoo can’t, can ya? Aye’m not trying to be an intellectual giant. I’m just stating truth. An the trooth ish if anybody is the bane of the continued exsistance of both Rebel Pro an the AoWF, it’s them. They and people like them are the one’s trying to hold us back. Apparently, real wrestlers doan’t evolve with the circumstances. They do the exact same school of moves over and over and over again even though people find the cracks in the armor and exploit them. Wrestling ish never supposed to bea anniething utter tan what their imaginations oar thoughts of there rememberances of their glory days want it to be. And clearly “getting my ass kick bi a Master of Time and Space” isn’t in they’re plans.

A faux sad face from the Dodo as she steps down from her box.

Anna Mathews: Ay’m here ta sai fuck that shit. A purrson that can only do one thing can strive in this business for a very short time. They can win all the gold and have all the glory. But in order to survive for the long haul, you either have to be a jack of all trades oar you hav ta be a pussified coward. You either have to evolve and fight or hide and suffer. Cents ai’ll never hide, guess I’ll evolve.

The leather jacket that you’ve never noticed before and never will again comes off.

Anna Mathews: I said et ownce before and I’ll say it again. I don’t mynd being the sacrificial lamb. I don’t mind being the won purrsun that those co-workers of mine love to hate.

She takes off her shirt to reveal another shirt just like it. But Simon must be fucking around in the production truck. We clearly see a nice angle of DAT ASS before it inches up her back. In the middle is a target with words as plain as day: Go ahead, try to get over.

Anna Mathews:..and I really doan’t mind being the scapegoat.

As the mic drops yet again, Anna and her fans party on with cake and cookies while all of you poor fucks have to deal with something else.


The KKK(Anna Mathews & Johnny Maverick) versus Might & Magic

- Even though his job is to enforce this match, Deicide takes a seat behind the announcers table, quietly. When Larry and Linzi tried asking him questions, Deicide ignored them and kept looking on at the in-ring action, expressionless. Meanwhile, Salazar fits perfectly in the role of referee, given how sacred he holds the wrestling rulebook. Despite most REBEL tag matches being unconventional, Salazar informed both teams this bout will be contested under traditional standards; where tags must be made in front of Cesar, no interference is allowed (otherwise said interferer will get their team disqualified), and rope-breaks, count-outs and referee stoppage is enabled!

- Mathews and Dragon jumpstart the match through armdrags, hiptosses and whips, but neither do anything damaging to the other. All of it was them countering and avoiding the other’s attempts, which is impressive if you can appreciate defense. First offensive contact came when Dragon’s tilt-a-whirl threw Anna into the ropes, but utilizing this momentum, Anna counters with a springboard leg lariat! Instead of covering, Anna rolls toward her team’s corner tired and tags in Maverick, who comes off the top turnbuckle with an awing, long-distance elbow drop onto a crawling Dragon’s backside!

- Multiple, generic submission holds like ‘Boston crab’ and ‘surfboard’ keep focus on Dragon’s back, but the Magic would find escape eventually. It’s when Maverick’s STF is applied, concern overcame Moke Doshky, and he would’ve kicked Maverick in the head by now, but Cesar Salazar forbids it as if sacrilegious. At the risk of his neck, Dragon otc cialis rolls himself and Maverick onto their sides, making it easier for Dragon to elbow Johnny’s ribcage, which he does! Only, Maverick’s response is forearms against Dragon’s neck! Ultimately retreating, both Maverick and Dragon go to tag in their partners, Anna Mathews and Moke Doshky.

- Running into a swinging side slam, Anna is laid out conveniently nearby a turnbuckle, which Moke then uses for a corner slingshot splash! For the first time in this match, Moke covers Anna, but Mathews grabs the bottom rope, which Cesar instantly recognizes. Annoyed by this, Moke tugs at Anna’s hair till she stands, permitting four gruesome headbutts into a sidewalk slam! Rallying support for Anna, Maverick yells words of encouragement that make Moke laugh. But it wasn’t a laughing matter when Anna headbutted Moke in the groin, then hurled a big ball of violence into Moke’s face! A BOOMERFLY KICK SENT MOKE OUT OF THE RING!

- This opening is seized to tag in Maverick, who darts over to Dragon and palms him in the face, which actually receives a hilarious vocal response of, “OH FUCK, MY FACE!” as Dragon sits up on the outside! Before Moke Doshky can fully stand, Maverick’s suicide splash halts Moke’s gathering. Not stopping there, Maverick jumps onto the guardrail, hi-fives a small child in the front row before moonsaulting onto Moke! Of course, that got much love from the crowd. “This is the best outing Maverick has had in a few weeks!” Gordon proclaims.

- Salazar is up to a six count, but Maverick shoves the massive Moke beneath the bottom rope and into the ring in time to strike The Dragon, who tried sneak attacking Maverick, with a roaring elbow to the chin! Ascending the apron and then turnbuckle, Maverick’s moonsault knee drop nailed Moke so awfully in the chest, a consecutive three count followed shortly after! The KKK has defeated Might & Magic to become the new number one contenders for the REBEL Pro Tag Team Championships!

- Black Flag’s “Rise Above” announces Kontroversy Kreates Kake’s win, but more noticeably, Salazar raising both arms of Mathews & Maverick at centre of the ring! Afterward, Salazar extends his hands for both Anna and Maverick to shake, but their taken aback by this gesture. Seeing them being too confused to react accordingly, Salazar smirks as he lowers his hands. Nodding, the member of Wrestling’s Undisputed leaves the ring and rejoins Deicide, to walk up the ramp, carrying their Undisputed Tag Championships, leaving KKK to bask in the audience’s cheerfulness.

Winners: Johnny Maverick & Anna Mathews (The KKK) in 16 mins, 42 secs

Commercial for Dave’s Thumbtacks, do you get the point yet?

Main Event

Revenge of the Exciting Wood Match

Marvin Wood vs Virgil Keenan

We are back from commercial break when Larry Gordon steps to the ringside area and yanks the microphone from Jenny Jersey.

Gordon: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that both Marvin Wood and Virgil Keenan are not here this evening.”

The crowd boos.

“Mr. Wood’s plane was delayed due to a freak storm and Mr. Keenan refused to give you… jackasses another drop of his precious rule abiding blood.”

More boos, both at Gordon and at Virgil.

“I’m A Rebel” hits up in the speakers, the crowd begins to disperse when “Badass” hits up and Dale Petty stomps out. The crowd immediately stops and turns their attention back to this.

Gordon” You!”

Disgust in his voice, Dale nods.

Dale: “Me, you fat sumbitch.”

Gordon is furious.

Gordon: “What in the hell do you want?! You got back in.”

Dale walks down to Gordon, patting his fat stomach.

Dale: “I want my name back.”

Gordon smirks and shakes his head.

Gordon: “That… I own.”

Dale smirks.

Dale: “I’ll fight you for it.”

Gordon shakes his head, he knows Dale would win that fight.

Gordon: “Ain’t happening.”

The crowd begins to chant “chicken shit” at Gordon, but he doesn’t budge.

Dale: “So, you disappoint this crowd, you don’t have anything to back this match up, you refuse to fight…”

Gordon nods.

Gordon: “What do I care? I make money on their blood thirst, on your lack of any other skills, on the flesh torn by you rabid animals…”

Dale smirks.

Dale: “So, you think you are pretty smart huh?”

Gordon taps his skull.

Dale: “Read that contract Gordon?”

Gordon looks apprehensive.

Dale: “I get 1 match of my choosing, for anything.”

Gordon smirks.

Gordon: “Against any wrestler.”

Dale nods.

Dale: “Any stipulation.”

Gordon smiles.

Gordon: “Ok…”

Dale: “I’m fighting Bobby Lee for the right to my name and for 2 percent of this company.”

Gordon: “That’s bullshit!”

Dale smiles: “You could have just given it to me and that would have been that.”

Gordon: “Ok, you can have it back.”

Dale nods, lighting up.

Dale: “Damn right and I’ll get 2 percent control of this company, shoulda agreed you fat…”

Trailer Park Trash on Gordon!

Dale: “Fuck!”

The crowd roars, but Dale turns back to the camera.

“Norton, good job on Case, I liked what I saw.”

e waits, the crowd listening as he gives his approval.

“Macca… that was fun… I want another go around, what ya say?”

He throws the mic down as the show fades.

Quick Results

Sean Robinson defeated Jeremy Gold
Jake Norton closed the case on Justin Case
Tony Edison defeated Jonathan Cage
Macca defeated Dale Petty
Maverick/Matthews(KKK) defeated Might and Magic
Marvin Wood vs Virgil Keenen was a no contest

Aggression 10-22-2012


“Breath of Life” by Florence and The Machines begins to play over the speakers, the REBEL Pro logo shining over the REBELTron as acting President Simon Kalis steps out to an uproarious response from the crowd. He adjusts the collar on his suit and waves to the passionate fans as he offers a wide grin.

Linzi Martin: Oh shit, look. His jaw isn’t wired shut anymore! Simon will finally give it to us straight himself!

Larry Gordon: Ohhhh yes. That he will.

Simon slaps the hands of fans as he walks down the aisle, taking time to pose for pictures and sign autographs.

Linzi Martin: So before tonight’s show, Simon announced that something major has happened in regards to the future of REBEL Pro. I take it you know what that is, don’t you Larry?

Larry Gordon: I sure do, Linzi.

Simon passes by the announcers table and smirks in Gordon’s direction, and for the first time in months Gordon smirks back.

Linzi Martin: Since when are you two friends again?

Larry Gordon: We aren’t, but even I have to tip my hat to Simon’s brilliance tonight, Linzi.

Simon walks up the steps and into the ring.

Jenny Jersey: Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you our acting President, Simon Kalis!

She hands him the microphone, and Simon waits for the crowd to settle down.

Simon Kalis: I own Underground X.

The crowd jumps to their feet, cheering in disbelief.

Linzi Martin: WHAT?!

Larry Gordon: Heh.

Simon turns his head and smiles.

Simon Kalis: REBEL Pro wins.

Voiceover from the REBELTron: FLAWLESS VICTORY!

In standard Kalis fashion, he slaps his chest, stomps his foot and salutes the crowd in Order of Chaos fashion. The crowd is going nuts, it’s been a while since they’ve seen Simon do that so rightfully so they mark out for the occasion.

Simon Kalis: The promotion who thought they could go to war with REBEL Pro is FINISHED!

More cheers from this clearly pro-REBEL Pro crowd. D’uh.

Simon Kalis: What does this mean, you ask?! It means that Warehouse in Vegas? Is mine. What’s left of the Underground Arena? Is mine. Every single contracted wrestler from Underground X? Is. Mine. That means indy scene phenoms such as Macca, will now be in REBEL Pro!

The crowd gives a big pop to the UX Triple Crown Champion.

Simon Kalis: That means Sean Robinson! Who went from REBEL Pro to make a name for himself as the greatest UX Undisputed Champion will be BACK! In! REBEL! PRO!

Kalis dusts his shoulders off, looking boss as fuck.

Simon Kalis: And these men are just the tip of the iceberg which I have acquired for REBEL Pro through this moment. With them and the other X’erground wrestlers, coupled with our great talents like Anna Mathews, Marvin Wood and even The Phoenix… I can stand before you all tonight, over a year later from the moment I purchased 49% of REBEL Pro in order to save it from bankruptcy and say… Mission Accomplished. I told all of you, inside one of the High School gyms where REBEL Pro was holding shows then… That I would take REBEL Pro from the regional status it once had, and take it to the nation and then the world and make REBEL Pro the FLAGSHIP FEDERATION OF THE AoWF! We have fucking DONE IT, ladies and gentlemen! Not just me. But those who stuck to REBEL Pro backstage and those of you here tonight in the HEART of REBEL country. We are the flagship, not the fucking god damn PWA. Take that, Rob Robinson. Take that, all up in your frigid asshole.

Simon flips the bird off at the camera and smirks.


Linzi Martin: I think I have tears in my eyes!

Larry Gordon: This is a triumphant and glorious moment, Linzi.

Kalis rubs his jaw, getting used to the new metal plating.

Simon Kalis: Acquiring UX was the last jolt needed to push REBEL Pro over the edge. We’ve got some very talented individuals coming here and this will – and should – put everyone already a REBEL on their toes. To all of you watching who once worked for Underground X, I say to you- feel free to come to REBEL Pro now. As incentive, I will offer you what I offered every REBEL Pro roster member when I bought REBEL Pro. A $50,000 bonus. As a welcome to your new regime, and a new era. Or…

Kalis twirls the mic and then smirks.

Simon Kalis: You can sit at home, and do nothing. But rest assured I own your ass either way, gentlemen. That includes you, Reece Paxton. That includes you, Allen Chaney. And you, Marina Blue. All of you AoWF traitors are back, or you’re nothing.

The crowd has a mixed reaction. We assume cheering Allen Chaney and Marina Blue, while booing that dumb fuck Reece Paxton.

Simon Kalis: I am now the dual President of two companies. REBEL Pro, and Underground X. That means a lot. But I couldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for The Mainerishi and his Ultra Passion Movement. Now this man, the Mainerishi, he is the death of UX. His followers blew up the Underground Arena in Las Vegas, killing people. Hurting people. Staining our great sport, and for what? While The Mainerishi himself had plausible deniability behind this terrorist attack, to me there is no question that this psychopathic madman is responsible. We are brutal in REBEL Pro. We are savage, we have a lust for blood like no other. But we have never been, are not currently, and never will be proponents of mass murder and carnage. The aftermath of these brutal actions went uncared for. The aftermath was the cancellation of UX’s contract with AMC to air their show, Blacklist. The aftermath was that the previous owner of UX, Salvatore D’Aquila, was fucked. Fucked by his own people, his own Champion. And so I stepped in, and placed an Order of Chaos seal on a deal to save this man’s dignity. And so I would ask all of you here tonight, to rise and remove your hats. We shall all stand in a moment of silence, not for Salvatore, and not for UX. But for those poor individuals who died at one of their shows by virtue of the actions of madmen. Let us all remain silent, and let the bell ring 14 times for the 14 souls lost on that evening.

Everyone in the arena stands up, many folks placing their hats over their hearts.















Kalis raises his gaze once again.

Simon Kalis: We solemnly pray that tragic events like these never occur in our sport again. And so…

Kalis clears his throat.

Simon Kalis: My first act as the new owner and President of Underground X in these transitive times is to fire the man responsible for its demise and more importantly, the man whom anyone with half a clue knows is responsible for the tragic events of Blacklist 40. The Former Underground X Undisputed Champion, the man behind the terrorist organization known as the Ultra Passion Movement. Mainerishi?

Simon points into the camera lens.

Simon Kalis: You’re fired.

The crowd gives a rousing applause at this news.

Simon Kalis: Over the next few days and weeks, much will have to be taken into consideration. However, I think it’s best if we now hear from the man himself… Salvatore D’Aquila.

And with that cue, the former boss of Underground X himself, Salvatore D’Aquila, pushes his way out past the curtain to the sound of “Life” by Harry Gregson-Williams and makes a brisk walk for the ring. The fans aren’t being shy about what they think about Salvatore with all of their boos and jeers, but the man either isn’t affected by it or has the world’s best poker face as he steps into the ring. Once in the ring, Kalis extends his hand forward, which Salvatore looks at with a slight look of disdain on his face for a moment, before extending his own out for the shake. Handing Salvatore the mic, Kalis makes his way out of the ring to let the man speak.

Salvatore D’Aquila: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, sadly, it is true. My time as leader of the Underground has come to an unfortunate end, due to circumstances that were outside of my control. I am sure that you are all disappointed as I am, but we shall have to move past this and try and turn this negative into a positive.

Larry Gordon: Crowd’s reaction tells us they don’t believe this is a negative in any way at all.

Salvatore D’Aquila: It will be hard for me to say goodbye to Underground X. I put my ‘everything’ into that company. Taking it from its low point and fixing it into a national TV show that was rating stronger than most other shows in its time slot. Although, I will be able to walk away satisfied knowing that stars like Sean Robinson, Cesar Salazar, Deicide & Tony Edison will always stay up in the spotlight where they belong. These men are truly the future of not just REBEL but wrestling in general today.

Oh shit, Sal! Not a good idea to tell a REBEL crowd that UX stars will be their future. Boos are raining down now. Just as D’Aquila raises the mic to his mouth once again, the Collingwood Football Club theme song hits the PA! Macca pushes his way onto the stage as huge cheers erupt from a large number in the crowd that is familiar with the man’s UX work. It’s still mixed in boos for the UX Hall of Famer from this particularly pro-REBEL crowd, though. Macca begins to make his way down to the ring with a mic of his own.

Larry Gordon: The beautiful strap around that Aussie’s waist is known as the UX Undisputed Championship, and the one draped over his shoulder goes by the Uncensored Championship. Their owner is Macca, better known by his fans as the ‘Cuntster’.

Linzi Martin: We’re not expected to call him that, are we? And… Is he aroused?

Entering the ring, Macca stands tall and proud; revealing that he does indeed have a large bulge in the crotch of his shorts.

Macca: Some good names you mentioned there, Sal; some pretty shit ones, also, but I can’t help but think that you missed a name. Can’t put my finger on who that would be though…. Oh that’s right: me! The fact that the last ever episode of the Blacklist was Main Evented by me beating your terrorist problem for the Undisputed Championship obviously means nothing to you. One last fuck up before you let go of UX for good, I suppose?

Macca switches the Uncensored Championship’s resting spot to his right arm so he can throw his left arm around Salvatore’s shoulders, which makes Macca’s former employer visibly tense. Pulling Salvatore in close, Macca continues to speak.

Macca: But let’s not end this on a sour note, Sal. I think we should celebrate our new beginnings in REBEL with a frothy.

Reaching into his shorts, Macca pulls out the bulge to reveal two bottles of Victoria Bitter! He pops the tops off of the bottles and offers one to his old boss. Salvatore looks at the bottle with disgust all over his face.

Salvatore: You don’t honestly expect me to drink that do you?

Macca: Nah I guess you shouldn’t. After all -

Linzi Martin: OH GOD!

Macca pulls back before smashing the bottle of beer over Salvatore D’Aquila’s head! The shards of glass immediately cut Salvatore open, and blood begins to rush down his face as he crashes face-first into the mat! A puddle made of a mixture of ‘beer and blood’ forms around Salvatore’s unconscious head! Macca drops down in to a crouched position before taking a sip from his last remaining bottle of beer, waiting for the few hundred UX marks to settle down from their giddiness! Naturally, typical REBEL fans are more so shocked than noisy.

Macca: – it seems you’ve already had enough. Cheers that, cunt!

Larry Gordon: The crowd seems to be super more behind Macca after that display!

Linzi Martin: True Larry, however, there are still some who see him as a UX invader. Only time will tell if he can win them over.

And with that, Macca leaves the ring and plays up to this hugely split crowd while making his way out to the back, taking us into our first commercial break of the evening!

Legendary Legacary

On the REBEL-TRON we come to see REBEL PRO’s newest signed attraction, “The Chosen One” Justin Case and his manager The Wiz. They are seen in the backstage area inside what looks to be someone’s office. We happen to pan over a desk where the name “Jeremy Gold” is seen on the desktop. The two men are in search of something as they trace through out the whole office. flipping the office upside down until finally one man speaks up.

The Wiz: I found it!

Legendary Legacary stops in his tracks

Justin Case: Is it what I think it is?!

The Wiz smiles

The Wiz: You know it.

crumpling up a paper in hand Case throws it aside and pans the room

Justin Case: That has to be all of it. Ok, go flush it!

The Wiz does what he’s told and leaves the room

Case looks to the camera with a sly cool confident smirk

Justin Case: So, Jeremy, how the hell have ya been?!oh really? eat a dick. Me? Im just doing great! Last week I made it known to the world I have come back to REBEL PRO for one reason and one reason alone. To finish the job of killing REBEL PRO once and for all. Afterall, I am “The Franchise Killer” for a reason. So I thought who better to get out of the way first, the very man I forced to resign as GM of this shit hole federation, a while back. But memories never fade, do they Gold?

Case brings up a file in his hand.

Justin Case: You see, while you continue to be Simon Kalis’ yes man. I knew you’d be busy doing his bidding at the moment. So I thought why not level the playing field, since I already know Im facing you later tonight.

The Wiz walks in and stands in the background.

Justin Case: You see what we did? Do you like the remodeling? I say, Wiz, someone needs a molly maid around here. But then again, Jeremy wouldnt like anyone else going through his personal business. Right Gold? Well, to level the playing field and to make sure you are able to remember every painful second in which I take revenge on the man that tried to ruin me by getting me fired from REBEL PRO. They say pay back’s a bitch, but yet they have never met yours truly. You see Gold, what we did is just flush all the illegal drugs you had stashed away in your office! Its all gone! So now your mind will be able to send you the message of extreme pain that I will soon inflict upon you, Jeremy Gold. You deserve the ass whooping of a life time anyways. But when you try to fuck with me, thats just a losing battle, and a war you cant win.

Case looks over his shoulder, smiles at The Wiz and looks back at the camera

Justin Case: You might be wondering whats in my talented hands, eh Goldy? Well Jeremy, in my hand is a copy of Simon Kalis’ resent public address state of affairs announcement in which is on the REBEL PRO website as well. And to be totally honest, looking at things from of course the peoples perspective, the statement given by Simon Kalis is nothing more than a federation suicide note.

“TCO” pauses for effect

Justin Case: Now then, yours truly is not going to waste the tax payer’s time of reading the whole statment that Simon Kalis made, but I will say this.

Legendary Legacary stares a hole through the lens

Justin Case: Jeremy Gold, the writing is literally on the wall, baby! REBEL PRO is on its last leg as finally Simon Kalis is giving in to my demands. Do you honestly think it was a coincidence that Kalis came out with this statement just days after my return to REBEL PRO? You see, he knows its just a matter of time. The statement he made is basicly a suicide note for REBEL PRO. What does that mean for you, Jeremy Gold? It means this….

Case’s eyes widen

Justin Case: Jeremy, Simon has made the first move of three steps towards ending REBEL PRO forever. Number one? Getting rid of the management. And what does Simon then do? Kalis then sends you to the wolves, as he signs off on a match that is surely to be Jeremy Gold’s last match ever! Placing Case against Gold is like stealing from a baby. The end result will happen so fast, the only thing left for Gold to do will be to cry your ass off once I defeat you. The second step Simon will surely take is to end all merchanise for the fans. Continuing on to end all deals with the sponsers that help promote this federation. With no commerials or online production, with no t-shirts of Jeremy Gold with a white powdered nose, or the Kalis clan sending their terroristic views via t-shirts and posters. All that bullshit will cease to exist as then the third and final step will be taken. Mark my talented words, Gold. Simon is soon to be bouncing checks while he cheats the wrestlers themselves. Thats whats next. If you dont believe me, wait until your money starts running out. The end result is now IN WRITING! REBEL PRO is on her death bed. Now its time to send a message to the cream of the crop. Jeremy, Simon, Adrian, I wont stop until I am on top! And when its all said and done, no one is better than “The Chosen One”.
Justin Case U didnt know, I rule this f*cking show!!!

See ya tonight, Gold.

Just like that the duo exit the office, leaving it a mess as they turn off the light and shut the door.

Fade 2…

The Return of The Legendary Legacary Match

“The Chosen One” Justin Case versus Jeremy Gold

When Justin Case came out, the REBEL fans greeted his return with boos and hate except for Susan Boyle who once again purchased a ticket to view her hero. As Jeremy Gold came out, everyone quietly applauded perhaps out of pity at what was likely going to be a bad time for him. The bell rang and Justin Case immediately struck with a short arm clothesline, taking Gold down hard and fast. Gold rolled with it, getting back to his feet and going for a flying lariat on The Chosen One. Case recovers and hits a spinning neckbreaker on Jeremy Gold, and covers. Case gets the 2 count as Jeremy manages to kick out, much to the chagrin of Justin Case. Case lifts Gold up and whips him into the ropes. He catches Jeremy Gold and takes him back down to the canvas with a body slam. He covers again. 1! 2! KICK OUT! Case is getting more and more infuriated with Gold. And Gold, for his part, begins crawling away from Case. As Case approaches Jeremy Gold, he lifts Gold back up from the canvas swiftly by the back of his neck. As Gold turns around, Gold kicks Case in the nuts much to the enjoyment of the crowd. It’s at this moment when SUSAN BOYLE JUMPS THE BARRICADE AND SLIDES INTO THE RING! SUSAN BOYLE TACKLES JEREMY GOLD TO THE GROUND AND BEGINS SLAPPING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM! Security rushes into the ring and pulls Susan Boyle out of the ring, but the crowd is amused. Gold low blows Justin Case again from his knees and as Case recoils, Gold gets to his feet and grabs Case by the head and begins yelling in his face as loud as he can. Gold begins slapping Case with both his hands, all girly like and Case being the superior specimen immediately grabs Gold and hits JUST 2 TALENTED! Instead of going for the pin however, Case locks in Snap or Tap! Gold barely holds on for more than three seconds before he begins tapping out!

Winner: Justin Case in 5:10

A Kansas Thang

Johnny and Allen both have their food set in front of them. Allen has a green salad with no meat of any kind on it because of his diet. Johnny has a double bacon chili cheeseburger with a side of chli cheese fries.

Johnny: “Oh sorry man. I forgot about your diet thin-”

Allen: “Die in a fire.”

Allen takes a bite of his salad. Johnny chuckles.

Allen: “So, he really texted you?”

Johnny nods.

Johnny: “Yeah. It was Ollies number. Just two words though. ‘My fault’. I mean, we all know it wasn’t but Ollie… The boy was never all there. I just want him to come home. Wherever he is he definitely isn’t in a good state of mind.”

Allen: “Must be Kansas. In Kansas positivity lies dormant, but negativity spreads like a virus. I should know, I still stay there on occasion. You spend five minutes in Kansas and you somehow implicitly uinderstand that it is an alternate universe seperate from sanity where people like Fred Phelps are allowed to spew their brain vomit for profit and a new Quik Trip gas station is the talk of the town.”

Johnny: “If you don’t stop being depressing, next time you fall asleep on a road trip I’m going to put bacon in your mouth.”

Allen rolls his eyes. He had only been on this diet a couple weeks. He had lost 15 pounds, but he wasn’t used to the diet yet. So yeah, he was a bit more unforgiving and blunt in nature recently.

Allen: “So. Marvin Wood, huh?”

Johnny: Yup. Should be a good win to get me back on track. I mean, a lot about me has changed. I’m drug free, alcohol free, and more focused than I have ever been save for a knee injury that until recently was kicking my ass as far as in-ring competition goes, but that’s all better thanks to a little bit of medical magic. Marvin is…well… he hasn’t really changed at all, has he? Same arrogant attitude, same boring as shit personality. Same shit, different day. So, take a Johnny Maverick who lacked clarity, vision, and drive then give him all of those things. Then put him against a guy he embarassed a little bit ago and won the Victory World Title off of who has not changed at all, who also wouldn’t still have his title belt if Virgil Keenan hadn’t of… Holy shit dude. Marvin Wood needs VIRGIL KEENAN to fight his battles for him.”

Allen: “Check it. ‘I’m a paragon of wit and intelligence in professional wrestling. Cunt Fuck Shit’.”

Johnny: “Spot-on Virgil, moobs. I guess I still find it a little funny. Marvin Wood was SO CONVINCED he had me beat. He was so sure he was the better man and he lost to someone who not only stood for absolutely EVERYTHING he opposed but clearly was not supposed to have won the match.”

Allen: “No doubt. I was hoping you’d win that but I never dreamed you would. I guess defying the odds is kind of our thing.”

Johnny: “It was my thing first.”

Allen: Yeah, but I did it better.”

Johnny: “Eh, I’ll top it eventually.”

Marvin Wood Brings The EXCITEMENT

“Well, this is exciting, isn’t it?”

Marvin Wood appears on the screen.

“This is an exciting time in my career. Firstly, I’m told that I should keep my public exposure to a minimum so as to maximise the impact of appearing on Rebel Pro television. This is certainly a very bad move when it comes to myself. Admittedly, the longevity of usefulness for the speech of many Rebel Pro wrestlers is short. The more they talk, beyond a few sentences, the more likely they are to hurt their own image, Rebel Pro’s public image and the public image and self-respect of everyone around them. It’s like the amazingly qualified camera man, who went to Oxford University, only to be put in a room to record someone masturbating with a nettle. It’s no good. Everyone who is surrounding these people whilst they speak are collectively becoming less intelligent, and less self-respecting. Sooner or later, they descend into depression and drug dependency. Anyway, this is certainly not the case with me. In fact, the inverse is true. When people listen to me speak on the issues of life, they become better, more intelligent people and learn to respect themselves more. The more I talk, the better society is as a whole. For my speech to be limited to just a few minutes per week, as it is here, will only reduce the number of people who I am able to help.”

He pauses and sighs.

“Then, I am told that I must participate in not minus one, not none, not one, but two matches, tonight. The very week after I successfully defended my Aggression Championship against Anna Mathews, thus extending my record against her to three wins to zero losses, I must once again defend that very same title against her, because she was – for some reason – upset regarding how she lost that match. In reality, if she was really cap;able of defeating me, she would have done so at some stage in the three matches that we have had to date. And yet, she failed to do so. That speaks only to the truth. Now that I must defend my title against her the very next week, I feel that the Aggression Championship truly is not worthy

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of encouraging greatness. I participated in this experiment for a short period of time, in order to investigate what I could gain for both myself and others out of a mid-card. And, ultimately, all I learned was that I was right all along. Mid-card titles are representative of nothing more than mediocrity. The stagnant booking regarding it reflects this. If I beat Anna Mathews, tonight, I am sure that she will come up with another excuse and get another title match, rendering the previous matches irrelevant. This will proceed until we have some puppet-themed handicap match where I could not possibly win. I don’t want to see that, and I no longer want to ambiguise my image by being associated with something that represents mediocrity. I no longer have any motivation to hold that title. Instead, I believe that it should instead be associated with someone who truly does represent mediocrity – someone like Anna Mathews. How convenient it is, then, that my title defence will be against her. It is time for some blood-letting. It is time to make a small, almost insignificant sacrifice in order to achieve the greater good. So, whilst Anna Mathews is enjoying her pointless, mediocre career, I will be enjoying changing the world for the better, as I always do.”

He nods, firmly, in affirmation of his comments.

“Thirdly and finally, there is the second match that I will be participating in, tonight. The rematch that everyone forgot to book. The rematch that Johnny Maverick forgot about. The rematch for the World Championship of Victory Wrestling and the AoWF Television Championship. Of course, neither of those title will be defended, as Maverick has long since lost both of them. Instead, I am tasked with righting one of the most disgraceful wrongs that has occurred, not just in my career, but in professional sports. I had climbed my way to the final of the tournament for the AoWF Television Championship, a title which I wanted to win in order to raise my ranking within the AoWF. But, in the final, where I was due to face Corey Lazarus to determine the new champion, the match was suddenly made a three-way match. Johnny Maverick was added. Despite overwhelming odds,

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I went on to win that match. But, instead, the owner at the time, Gabe Shelley, decided that he would change the rules of the match, AFTER it had taken place, thus meaning that I broke the rules, and restarted the match. Johnny Maverick, with the odds now truly in his favour, took advantage of my predicament to become one of the most sorry excuses for a World Champion that I have ever seen. Never again did I think that another promotion would repeat the mistake that Rebel Pro made, of making Johnny Maverick a World Champion. But then, along came the cesspool that was BWF, and they made the exact same mistake. And, I do mean “made” Johnny Maverick the World Champion, because all of the odds were stacked in his favour. He could not lose. Gabe Shelley, a man too cowardly to admit that he resents my success, would not allow it to be any other way.”

‘The Nomadic Sage”’s words are stern and assertive.

“Now, one year later, I finally have the opportunity to right that most atrocious of wrongs…in the place where it all started, no less: Rebel Pro. Tonight, I have the opportunity to right the wrong committed against myself, Corey Lazarus, the AoWF, Victory Wrestling, professional wrestling, every single stakeholder in professional wrestling, past present and future, and the moral fibre of mankind.”

“Johnny Maverick is like that sweet that is just too sweet to bite into. It looks so delicious. Everyone says it is delicious. But, there’s that pause. That pause where one is momentarily overwhelmed by the prospect of its deliciousness. Johnny Maverick is an idiot. He is the ex-husband of one of the most stupid, over-sensitive, ignorant, pathetic, boneheaded, out-of-shape poor excuses for a wrestler that there has ever been. For some reason, he has been able to prolong his love affair with this woman, and has taken wrestling fans along for the ride, in what can only be described as a subconscious expression of hatred for wrestling fans. There are certain times in my career that I am proud to be a professional wrestler – when there is nothing I would want to be more than a pro’ wrestler: such as having classic matches with the likes of The Phoenix, Matt Stone, Matthew Engel, Teresa Quaranta, Jethro Hayes and so on. Then, there is this…drivel…that forces me to hang my head in shame. This is another point on which I must avenge a most gracious misdeed involving this man. A crime against the creative faculty of all fans of professional wrestling.”

Marvin’s eyes are narrowed: he is concentrating, intensely.

“Within a couple of hours’ time, when I have corrected one of the great anomalies in our sport, dropped a meaningless championship, and avenged two egregious crimes, my mind will become more clear. I will feel better about myself. And, through this, I will once again teach all of you to feel better about yourselves.”

The scene fades out.

Come On Bro, You Can Do Better Than No Showing Match

Marvin Wood versus Johnny Maverick

Linzi Martin: Norton, why do you insist on continuing your guest commentator role when you’re a full-time REBEL wrestler now?

Jake Norton: I’m a workhorse, Lizzy. I love being involved.

Larry Gordon: That’s a nicer way to put it.

Jake Norton: Are you calling me a whore?

Larry Gordon: An attention-whore.

Jake Norton: Maybe I should call you a lazy, cheap prick!

Linzi Martin: For what?

Jake Norton: Really? How about whenever I come down here, there are only two headsets, so I gotta use Gordon’s. I’m surprised you actually bothered buying another, Larry.

Larry Gordon: Fans, you can hate me now.

Linzi Martin: Okay, let’s get ready to call some solid action. Two former Victory Wrestling World Champions and Aggression Champions are about to duke it out!

Jake Norton: Maverick won the Aggression title before?

Larry Gordon: Yes.

Jake Norton: Lol oh.

Johnny Maverick is quick to start things by going in after Marvin, who remains stood in the corner welcoming Maverick’s attempt. Hounding Johnny off, Marvin delivers thick knife-edge chops to Kennedy’s chest and leaps into him for a forearm smash, enabling a chicken wing camel clutch! Going on a panicky defensive, Maverick delivers various elbows that club hard blows to the arm, shoulder and neck of Marvin Wood; finished off by heaving the Aggression Champion into the turnbuckles via half-nelson suplex!

Linzi Martin: That seems to be a trend, lately.

Jake Norton: Virgil Keenan proved how merciless that throw can be.

Ramming a big boot into Marvin’s face, Maverick then monkey flips Marvin onto his ass. When he follows in, Maverick goes to deliver a running shotei into Marvin’s backside, but luckily, instincts kick in causing Marvin to dodge, resulting in Maverick crashing into the mat awkwardly! As Marvin stumbles back, he grabs onto Johnny and takes him down with a hangman’s neckbreaker!

Getting back to his feet, Marvin continues on the attack, kicking and stomping at Johnny, not wanting him to rise. As Johnny lies on the ground, Marvin grabs onto his leg, trying to wrench it, even applying a spinning-toehold. Giving up on this, Marvin soon spins around Johnny’s body, goes towards his head, drops down and applies a headscissors.

Attempting to free himself, Johnny rolls back-and-forth, eventually rolling both him and Marvin onto their stomach. Getting to a kneeling base, still with Marvin’s legs wrapped around his head, Maverick pushes his way onto his feet, escaping from ‘the Engine of Greatness’s clutches. Pulling Marvin up after some hammer shots, Maverick goes for a German suplex, but Marvin rejects the hold by peppering him with repeated back-elbows to the face!

Reversing the position into his favor, Marvin starts busting out his signature ‘Suplex Labyrinth’ series. Totaling in five, Marvin cannot continue thanks to Johnny desperately shoving a palm into Marvin’s nose whilst in midair, allowing him to flip forward onto his feet as Marvin staggers. Standing in front of Marvin, Maverick leaps backwards, hitting a Pele Kick and instantly jumps back to his feet! Catching Marvin as he stumbles back, Maverick latches onto his arm, interlocks his left leg around Marvin’s right leg and sweeps him backwards, bringing him down to the canvas! Down here, Maverick applies a cross-armbar, even nailing some elbows to his arm, making sure to apply more pressure and pain!

Tapping into his ring general senses once more, Marvin rolls Maverick onto his shoulders while the submission stays intact, but signaling the referee to initiate the count! Soon as the hand slapped the canvas a second time, Maverick nearly kicked out, but Marvin’s grabbing-of-the-tights enforced his pin, allowing Marvin Wood to emerge victorious.

Not So Fast LOL

Johnny Maverick has already made his way backstage, and as Marvin Wood slides out of the ring he drapes the REBEL Pro Aggression Championship over his shoulder and begins his exit buuuut.

Simon Kalis: Whoa. Whoa.

Simon steps out from behind the curtains with a microphone and a smug look on his scarred up face, putting up a hand towards Marvin.

Simon Kalis: Whoa.

Wood, breathing deep looks at Simon with some apprehension.

Simon Kalis: Last week, you successfully defended the REBEL Pro Aggression title against Anna Mathews. Now, we all know that before the match I had planned to be at ringside to prevent any interference. Annnnd we all saw what happened. With Larry Gordon helping to resign Justin Case and the Legendary Legacary deciding he’d like to return to REBEL Pro by catching a one eyed man off guard I was unable to be at ringside. So what we had was Virgil Keenan come out and interfere, costing good Anna Mathews her title match.

The crowd boos, Simon nods in agreement. Marvin Wood begins walking up the entrance ramp towards Simon, but Simon shakes his finger no.

Simon Kalis: No, Marvin. You don’t get off that easy. You know why? Because the following contest shall be a cage match for the REBEL Pro Aggression Championship!

Wood looks furiously at Simon, as the crowd jumps to their feet in a chorus of cheers.

Simon Kalis: Already at ringside, he is the current REBEL Pro Aggression Champion. From Pontefract, England… Yeah, I’m surprised I remembered that offhand too. Weighing

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in at fuck knows, standing in at fuck cares… MARVIN WOOD!

Wood re-enters the ring and raises the Aggression Championship.

Larry Gordon: What an insolent son of a bitch.

Linzi Martin: I know, Marvin’s such an ass.

Larry Gordon: I was referring to Simon. Marvin is a true fighter, a true competitor Linzi. He didn’t tell Virgil to interfere last week, he shouldn’t be punished now.

Simon smirks, as he puts down the microphone and disappears backstage.

REBEL Pro Aggression Championship Cage

Anna Mathews versus Marvin Wood©

Jenny Jersey takes the reins back now.

Jenny Jersey: And his opponent!

Sparks – “This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us” hits as Anna Mathews steps out to an uproarious applause from the fans.

Jenny Jersey: Standing in at 5 feet and 5 inches tall! Weighing in at 120 pounds! She is the Queen of Dodos! ANNA MATHEWS!!!

Anna runs towards the ring, slapping the hands of fans as she passes by before sliding right in to join Marvin. Marvin leans back, taking his time to recuperate as much as he can. Jenny leaves the ring, and the cage begins to lower.

Linzi Martin: I think this is fun. You know it was great travelling the country and Canada for a while, but it’s nice to just relax here in Raleigh and do shows consistently here in the Aggression Arena and treat the fans to these kinds of surprise buttsex type matches.

Larry Gordon: I’m sure the fans are happy, but I still find it distasteful.


Anna Mathews leans back against the ropes, smiles and waves to Marvin Wood. Marvin is still in his corner, biding his time and recuperating as much energy as possible. Anna doesn’t seem to mind this and simply watches and waits.

Linzi Martin: So my understanding is this will be a classic cage match. You can win by pinfall, climbing out of the cage over the top or by leaving through the door.

Larry Gordon: And it looks like things are about to pick up- wait a second.

Immediately, Virgil Keenan comes out from backstage with a chair in hand as Anna Mathews and Marvin Wood grapple up. They both break the grapple, Anna stepping back away as Wood crosses his arms and watches. Virgil taps his steel chair and demands the referee open the cage door. Quickly, referee Alan Stone does as he is commanded. Anna approaches, Wood steps back and anticipates what is about to happen.

Larry Gordon: I thought this was a cage match meant to prevent interference. So much for this bright idea.

Linzi Martin: For once you might be right, Larry. Ugh I can’t believe I said that.

Virgil enters the ring and taps the steel chair, pointing at Anna. The crowd is on their feet and booing. Virgil charges and swings the chair but Anna drops to her knees! The chair connects BUT IT CONNECTS ON MARVIN WOOD! Wood hits the canvas hard, busted open immediately. Before Virgil can react, Anna slides right between his legs and leaps out of the open cage door! The crowd can’t believe it! Virgil spins around, dropping the chair as Anna’s feet touch the outside of the ring.


Anna quickly grabs the lock and shuts the cage door, locking it shut.

Jenny Jersey: The winner of this match, and NEEEEEEEEEW REBEL Pro Aggression Champion! ANNA MATHEWS!

The crowd is on their feet as Virgil tries kicking the door open to get to Anna. Anna waves, and raises her new shiny to the cheers and camera flashes of the crowd. Meanwhile Wood is now on his feet, and does not seem pleased at all with this situation. As Virgil turns around, Marvin Wood hits the Imperfect Tense! The crowd loves it! Anna’s laughing! Wood is fuming! Keenan is knocked on his ass!

Linzi Martin: Well this was totally unexpected on so many levels. I really don’t know what to say.

Wood wipes the blood from his face and looks down at Virgil with discontent.

Larry Gordon: I think this situation is far from over…

Another Brick in The Wall

We see Jonathan Cage sitting in his locker room. He is staring at a monitor with some footage playing. We come around to view the monitor and we see the DVD Case to eWo’s The New Black of two thousand eleven. Cage has the remote in his hand and keeps skipping back to his match against his opponent this week Jake Norton.

Cage shakes his head as he watches himself lose the match in under two minutes. The words that Norton said to him after the face will ring in his mind forever.

Norton: I beat you in under two minutes you fucking twit.

After those words were spoken, Cage stands up and cuts the monitor to black. Then in one fowl swoop, he picks the monitor up and tosses it against the wall.

Cage: God damn it, I hate that motherfucker.

Cage starts throwing punches into the wall creating holes at every strike.

Cage: It was because of him that I adapted the attitude that led me to become eWo World Champion. Yet, what happened to me over a year ago is still a fucking thorn in my side. I was at my lowest point then and I was trying to be a nice guy. That son of a bitch took advantage of it and beat me senseless.

Another punch leading to another hole in the wall. He turns to face the camera as he puts his paint on his face.

Cage: Norton, ever since that day I’ve seen your ugly smiling mug every single fucking day. Yet everytime I get the chance for some redemption you run like a little bitch. Using the fact that you have one victory over me as a crutch to basically hide from what’s coming to you. And at Armed Assault when I saw your ugly fucking face sitting behind the announce desk I wanted to show your that I’m not the same man that you beat over a year ago. That’s why I held my submission move as long as I did to show you that I’m nothing to fuck with.

He takes a breath for a moment.

Cage: Fast forward to Aggression tonight, you and I are stepping inside the ring for the first time in over a year. Now there is no running and no hiding from my vengeance. Tonight, I’m going to end the cancer of professional wrestling. A years worth of waiting will finally come to a head and Norton, you will be just another brick in the fucking wall.

Cage pushes the camera away as he continues to destroy his locker room.

To The World, II

Violins and an innocent-sounding flute start the well-known John Williams score, main theme for Steven Spielberg’s E.T. Out of the curtain to a cozy reception, Jake Norton skips down the ramp, around ringside, then pulls himself onto the apron, performs a leg-split, and pulls himself by his fingers inside the ring, mimicking a certain diva that does this way sexier than stupid ‘Cancer Man’.

During a brief scene of a random tech handing Norton a microphone, chants of “Die! Die! Die!” erupt off in the distance; an obscure reference to Norton being cummed on by Chris Extreme in Sin Wrestling. Smirking at the clearly smarkish insult, Norton doesn’t bother responding; opting to ascend a nearby turnbuckle.

Jake Norton: “Last week, after travelling here, to great North Carolina-”

Pausing to hear the cheap pop Norton aimed for, the audience does not return love.

Jake Norton: “.. I was approached by some paparazzi guy from TMZ. That celebrity-stalker show on Fox. Anyway, I don’t know if you guys saw that, coz who actually watches that crap, is I right?”

Not as quiet as before, a handful shout stuff like ‘Faux News’ and ‘I’m a Lawyer!’

Jake Norton: “But he asked me some questions about Virgil, the masked gay I bashed last week.”

Finally, shouts of approval for Norton’s latest deed gives Jake the reception he wants. That’s what happens when you beat one of the most hated cunts in the AoWF today cleanly: recognition.

Jake Norton: “But in that same impromptu interview, I mentioned – actually, asked if viewers would duly note several questions I feel are crucial to my story in REBEL Pro. This week, I want to answer one of those questions, since, fortunately, my newest opponent is very much a polar opposite of me. The question being, “What challenge does Norton offer his peers?”

Inhaling so much air as quick as he did, you can tell Norton’s nose is congested; explaining his unusually extra-nasally tone. Could he be sick? Even if, Norton smirks as his eyes scan nameless faces in the crowd confidently.

Jake Norton: “I’ve been in many companies with Jonathan Cage. Hell, the last time I was in the ring with him, it was in epic wrestling organisation, at ‘The New Black’ – a pay-per-view show, where we opened the broadcast with me beating him in a record-setting seven seconds. Seven damn seconds! I laid his ass out with a mere lariat, and here we are, a full year later, coming face-to-face yet again. What has changed since then, I wonder?”

Giggly like the snot-nosed punk he is, Norton coughs twice afterward.

Jake Norton: “Jonathan Cage is hyping himself as the ‘final’ eWo Heavyweight Champion. Like any REBEL Fans give-a-fuck about that.”

Some whistle and laugh approvingly; Norton attempts to continue building this positive reaction.

Jake Norton: “I don’t want to take a big steaming crap on eWo since they are a well-known promotion, sure, but, they have lost sooo much credibility, it’s ridiculous. This promo won’t be turning into a tirade, but let’s just go over a quick ‘fact’ checklist. Hasn’t eWo fallen face-first into bankruptcy more than nine times?”

Rebel Fans: “Yes!”

Jake Norton: “Does any ‘homegrown’ wrestlers in eWo mean anything anywhere except at home?”

Rebel Fans: “No!”

Jake Norton: “Those two facts alone must mean eWo has major problems maintaining relevancy if they can’t keep production together longer than a few months. Hell, that’s embarrassing. But, hey, regardless of the zero-value people that make up whatever eWo was, Jonathan Cage beat someone, and he won the eWo title, therefore we must give him props!”

Mimicking Anna Mathew’s cheeky ‘golf clap’, Norton is suddenly caught off-guard after “The End is The Beginning is The End” starts playing! Though it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the arena’s soundsystem? Realizing it’s coming from his jean shorts’ pocket, Norton’s left hand digs for the source; pulling out a cellphone.

Jake Norton: “Blah, how rude. Oh. Hey, what a coincidence? Let me take this call. One second, I promise. Hello, Fisher! .. Aye, I’m busy. Doing what? Why, cutting a promo on your boy! No, not Tony Edison. Not him, either. You give up? Jonathan Cage. Well, he says he’s your boy, blue. Yeah, I know, it was news to me too, since, you know, he said you were a failing, piece of shit earlier this year in UX. I know, Cage doesn’t really make sense. Yeah, I’ll let him know. Okay, I gotta finish this promo.”

Closing the phone lid shut, Norton drops it into his pocket whence it came.

Jake Norton: “John Fisher asks for you to stop associating yourself with him for heat, Cage. Besides, nobody really knows who that spaghetti-stuffing bastard is anyway. Which brings me full circle to that question I spoke of earlier; what challenge do I offer? It’s pretty big challenge; let me tell you, Cage. You want to fucking ride in on a high horse, slinging duel guns, wearing a golden star badge on your leather vest and a ten gallon hat to take away attention from your over-sized pumpkin head, yet, this silly fun image just won’t be the way we all look at you, space cowboy. You can’t fucking shoot, and you don’t know how to be truthful!”

Jumping backward off the second turnbuckle he’s stood on this entire time, Norton lands safely on the canvas and walks to another side.

Jake Norton:
“Everybody likes to shoot. Shooting is real cool, and these fans absolutely love it when people spit the truth because it’s so revealing. But, what truth is worth sharing? How does someone know what will captivate and manage to get themselves over? These are questions you should be asking yourself, Cage, instead of clinging to whatever nonsense you believe could work outside your ‘bubble boy’ mindset.

When Lisa Seldon reigned as REBEL World Heavyweight Champion, and she had to defend her title against some loser who proclaimed she’d lose to them because, hey, we all gotta fall off the mountain sometime, right? That might sound like a promising thought, but, reality of that is, Lisa, who was in her prime, kicking more ass than there was available to be kicked, didn’t have to do more than refer to the dozens of other Jabronis stacked in a mutilated 300esque pile behind her, and the challenging loser ended up joining that pile as well. You know why? That loser said or did nothing different than those dead losers behind Lisa.”

Giving people their due is so underrated.

Jake Norton:
“Point being, Jonathan, you are exactly like that faceless loser. You beat fucking Bobby Lee and arrive last week acting like you’re the Main Event. When these people know Bobby Lee, they know he’s not someone you can puff out your chest over, slick your hair back and do a nature boy strut. No, Cage, you need to fucking beat dudes who these fans hold in high regard. That’s how people take you seriously. They don’t care if you allegedly beat Lawrence Jarvis in an untelevised, unaccountable match for a defunct company’s top strap.

And I know the only reason you claim this is so you have an ounce of individuality to keep you from sounding and looking like just another guy. Why else would you boast? Just like how you wear face-paint and come out to Mudvayne, you think this look and sound is sooo alternative; counter-culture, even. Nope, you simply prove how desperate you are to be noteworthy, which is sad.”

A transcript of this promo would possibly read as if Norton’s sole goal is to just insult Jonathan, when in all actuality he comes across more so disappointed by Cage’s self-handling.

Jake Norton:
“Basically, everybody, Cage is having a hard time getting himself over. That’s why his last two matches were practically spoon-fed opponents. Bobby Lee is obviously shit and Johnny Maverick has fallen off so badly, dude may as well not bother showing. But this week? I’m his first actual challenge. I’m someone who has a lick of sense for this business. I understand you fans, and I know you want someone who’s competitive, who’s smart, and who can help the AoWF return to its dominant slot.

Look at Underground X. There is a promotion that tried to take a crack at taking AoWF’s high-ranking spot, and, let’s be honest; they might have become incredibly huge if not for their own self-deprecating madness. Now, Simon Kalis took advantage, and has eliminated the best competition AoWF has had in a long time. But who’s to say there won’t be others? AoWF is in a vulnerable position right now, because the talent is stale. They’re not leaders, they’re not entertaining, and they’re not even doing their fucking jobs: selling-out arenas!

That should be the first long-term success of any wrestler, just to put asses in seats, if nothing else. Can Jonathan Cage do that? Mister “I’ve Been In This Business Forever!” Cage? Be real, everybody. If Jonathan Cage were to be booked against Rob Robinson for the REBEL Heavyweight Championship, will any of you give a fuck? Will you rush to preorder tickets? No, you’ll likely find a stream on the internet, coz an event like that would be absolute rubbish.

This is why I am going to kill any momentum Jonathan Cage may have right now. He’s not fit to be a contender for any championship, thus I don’t want anyone to ever think he is. What Jonathan Cage needs to do is fuck off for a while, take off the face paint – this is not 80s America, go get some music advice from Marvin Wood, and, shit, while you’re at it, have Marvin Wood teach you a proper catch-as-catch-can technique. Coz your MMA skill is as good as Kimbo Slice.”

Damn, Norton. All this thu’um shouting!

Jake Norton:
“I’ve been watching PWA and TGW recently, and I’ve taken notice. I’m excited for the revolution. Adrian Kalis is right. Bitches like Jonathan Cage need to disappear. Cage, get out here so I can hide you under an orange flag, cunt!”

OH DAMN. Norton’s going to join the Orange Revolution!? He better win this damn match if he wants to join that.

Singles Match of Cancer

Jonathan Cage versus Jake Norton

Jenny Jersey: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, already in the ring he stands in at 5 feet and 9 inches tall, weighing in at 153 pounds… He hails from…

Jenny looks up from her cue card to Norton. He motions her to keep reading.

Jenny Jersey: He hails from Mister Rogers Friendly Neighborhood! He is JAKE NORTON!!!!

The crowd has a mixed reaction for Norton, he stretches inside the ring with the ropes.

Jenny Jersey: And his opponent, he hails from Detroit, Michigan!

The lights dim as we hear some white noise over the PA system. Then as the white noise cuts out, a voice comes over the speakers.

“Wanna play a game?”

Then the lights come on instantly as “Forget to Remember” by Mudvayne blasts through the speakers. And standing at the top of the ramp is Jonathan Cage. He stares out at the crowd for a few moments before walking down to the ring. He slides in and goes to the far corner. He climbs and does his open hand crucifix pose for the crowd. He drops down as “Forget to Remember” fading away.

Jenny Jersey: Standing in at 6 feet and 6 inches tall! Weighing in at 235 pounds! “The Eternal” JONATHAN CAGE!!!!


Both men begin circling the ring, Jake Norton sizing up Cage as Cage towers over him across the ring.

Linzi Martin: We’ve got a proverbial David versus Goliath match here tonight folks.

Larry Gordon: It does look like that. But Cage may be tall, but he is very lean and agile as well which is something I believe is a key ingredient to his incredible success throughout his illustrious career.

Norton moves in and hits a jab against Case, quickly jumping back and raising his fists in the air, playing up the crowd. He goes for another quick jab and again connects, Cage just missing him with a short arm clothesline. Norton again spins around, his arms in the air with fists clenched to the joy of the crowd. Norton taunts Cage and goes for another hit it and quit it jab attack but this time Jonathan Cage spears Jake Norton to the canvas and the crowd jumps up, the ring shudders from the impact. Cage with a springboard moonsault electrifies the crowd, quickly getting back to his feet. Cage lifts Norton up off the canvas and takes him right back down with an inverted DDT. He goes to the middle turnbuckle and goes for a diving elbow drop but Norton rolls out of the way.

Larry Gordon: Maybe if Jake focused on wrestling instead of coming on here and commentating he’d get his ass kicked less.

Linzi Martin: I prefer him, to be honest.

Norton back on his feet and taunts Cage, trying to rile him up while also playing to the crowd. A quick pendulum elbow cracks Cage hard, Norton with a spinning neckbreaker takes Cage down. Back to his feet Norton lifts Cage up by the hair this time, but Cage with a forearm smash gets loose of Norton and a low dropkick by Cage puts Norton back down. As Norton gets back to his feet Cage goes for his patented springboard roundhouse kick, Into The Light II! But Norton ducks under it safely and grabs Cage, PROCESS OF ILLUMINATION! Norton quickly covers!





Jenny Jersey: The winner of this match, JAKE NORTON!

Norton quickly slides out of the ring and gives a big smile to the crowd. Cage sits up and looks out, shaking his head.

Fake Empire II

A second after viewers return from commercial break, “Game of Thrones Main Title” by Ramin Djawadi orchestrates through the soundsystem; assisting Wrestling’s Undisputed onto centre stage. Matching in style, both Undisputed Tag Team Champions are suited up in attire Barney Stinson would idolize. Little after arrival, Deicide raises a microphone he obtained backstage to his lips.

Deicide: “Last week, Simon Kalis booked ‘Golden Inferno’ against the Undisputed, and golden proved counterfeit whilst the flame dimmed by Wrestling’s Champions. We have eliminated one team from this unofficial tournament seeking to crown worthy champions to represent REBEL Pro against the big bad us. But, Simon Kalis, you need not to further your search for strong representatives. You now own Underground X, making us, Wrestling’s Undisputed, newly acquired talent. We have solved your champion dilemma. All you would have to do is recognize the gems Cesar and I hold as the Undisputed Tag Team Championships of REBEL Pro.”

Responding variously to Deicide’s suggestion, the crowd then watches Cesar receive the microphone from his partner.

Cesar Salazar: “While we will dearly miss Underground X, the animalistic and immoral promotion we helped built into the strange, indie phenomenon it’ll forever be seen as, Wrestling’s Undisputed doesn’t base its purpose around representing a mere company. We only bear the flag of tag team wrestling itself. Whichever promotion we find ourselves occupying simply reaps the benefits of claiming us as their champions. Here is an opportunity for you to be our cheerleader, Simon; to have REBEL Pro be our cherry-sweet girlfriend we’ll happily defend honorably and awesomely.”

Viewers at home can now distinguish a divide amongst tonight’s crowd, with some fancying Sal and Dei’s offer but others possibly finding them snotty.

Cesar Salazar: “We await your response, Simon. But this proposition isn’t the end of our segment, tonight. No, see, Deicide and myself have decided that, our small alliance could use some expansion. Especially since there is one other person in this crazy world of wrestling deserving to be acknowledged as someone Undisputed, too. Allow us this swell opportunity to introduce the third addition to our exclusive club. He is just like us.”

The lights in the building go out, and a buzz ripples through the crowd. After a few seconds of anticipation, a single light begins to pulse over the entranceway. A simple beat through the sound system syncs up with the pulse. It’s the opening to “Amazing (Heartbeats Remix)” by Kanye West. Some members of the REBEL audience recognize the tune, and a spark hits the arena. Suddenly, the lights come back on as Kanye’s lyrics hit, and Sean Robinson stands on the stage next to Salazar and Deicide. As always, he’s got that trademark Robinson smirk on his face, and as always, he gets a mixed reaction from the crowd. Some love him for his success in Underground X, but most hate him for his overall attitude as an arrogant asshole. He reinforces that second point now.

Sean Robinson: “Look at this audience here in Raleigh.”

A cheap pop for Robinson; what the hell is going on here?

Sean Robinson: “What a sorry collection of sister-fucking inbred.”

And he’s back to form and the crowd’s vulgar abuse rain down.

Sean Robinson: “No appreciation for greatness. No respect for their betters. That’s what I love about the REBEL crowd. You guys are just like me, aside from that whole sister-fucking thing. You don’t give a single fuck. See, I’m here in this company for one reason, and one reason only. I’m not here to preserve the legacy of Underground X. I’m not here because I need the money. I’m here for gold.”

Is he going to challenge for the tag titles with Deicide and Salazar? Will we see the return of the Freebirds Rule? Or maybe he’s going after Marvin Wood’s Aggression Championship…

Sean Robinson: “If there’s one thing that you fans need, it’s a solid dental plan with reasonable deductibles. Seriously, there are probably five full sets of teeth in this building.”

He really knows how to turn a crowd against him, doesn’t he?

Sean Robinson: “But if there are two things you need, the other one is a new champion. Someone who can represent the title appropriately: great technical ability, solid fundamental mat wrestling, and yes, the occasional chair shot. Aggression, that’s what a champion needs.”

It IS Marvin Wood’s title he wants, isn’t it?!

Sean Robinson: “But a champion needs more than just aggression. He needs to be… undisputed. He needs to be above all of the competition, with no doubt in anyone’s mind who the best in the business is. And as the longest-reigning Undisputed champ in Underground X history, I feel like I know what that means. But now I’m seeing a new challenge in front of me. I see another title, one that might even surpass the Undisputed belt in glory, given the right champion. And that champion just happens to be named Robinson.”

No way. He can’t be serious.

Sean Robinson: “Unfortunately for you, REBEL, the wrong Robinson is holding that belt right now. Don’t worry, I’m here to right the wrongs. So you want to know why I’m really here? I want a shot at The Phoenix.”


Sean Robinson: “Rob Robinson, I’m coming for you, nigga.”

The loud and vigorous reaction from tonight’s pumped crowd, accompanied by Linzi Martin and Larry Gordon selling the promo greatly, and Kanye West’s chart-topping tune, takes us into another commercial break.



Darkness, only the lights of the exit signs are lighting anything, and their glow barely reaches three feet in front of them and to either side. The crowd is a bit restless, their murmuring is loud in the darkness, imagine it to the sound of worms, beetles, and other decomposers burrowing into that of any unprotected grave. From the darkness someone begins to speak.

“Virgil Keenan…”

The voice is very recognizeable, it is that of Dale Petty/Bubba J. He begins a smoker’s laugh/cough combination.

“I’m sure that you are thinking that regardless of my name that I’m still the same old hardcore wrestler… excuse me… fighter and son, you’d be one hundred percent correct. You see, just because a name changes, it doesn’t mean that the person behind it changes, its just something for people to call you. Take Bobby Lee for instance, call him Virgil Keenan… and he’s still going to suck. Shadow Starr changed his name to Lucious Starr and he still sucks. Justin Case can come in here and call himself Ralph Keutor and he’s still going to be the worthless piece of shit that he is. In essence, my name has changed, but I’m still the baddest sumbitch that you are ever going to run across in this fed, in any fed, and in a few minutes… I’m going to prove that to you. I could say tick tock, but there is no way you’d hear the clock ticking over your own overinflated ego pumping you up and making you cock sure and proud.”

A flare in the darkness, a cigarette is lit as the lights seem to pause at sort of an ambiant light, not revealing much in the ring at all. Perhaps its even darker than that, because the shapes are only shapes.

“Inflate your balloon son, because its going to get popped just like a virgin’s cherry tonight… blood, pain, humiliation… all three are going to be in the package for the price of one defeat… your defeat Virgil.”

The sound of him exhaling is heard through the microphone, the crowd is now hushed.

“You can hate the hardcore aspect, because that is the way that you are; I don’t give a shit. Its like an opinion and they are just like assholes, every body has one. Am I going to tell you that your opinion is wrong?”

A slight pause.

“Nope, because that is exactly what you and everyone else is expecting me to do. I’m going to tell you that your opinion is just that, your opinion. Your wrestling, your technical wrestling, has gotten you a few things, hardcore fighting has gotten many other people many other things. I’m not going to say that I’m capable of out wrestling you, because I’m not able to; I admit that.”

He laughs.

“But at the same time, neither can you out fight me. In a paper bag, you’ll out wrestle me all day long… and I’ll knock that bag out of sight with a chair, a lead pipe, a C4 explosive… it doesn’t matter to me. You may be able to hold a pipe and get in some blows, you may even be able to swing a steel chair, but let me say… that I can do a headlock, an ankle lock, an Anaconda Vise… I can do some technical moves, but that doesn’t mean that I’m proficient with them. The same Virgil, goes for you and your hardcore ability.”

He takes a drag on the cigarette.

“Its not just a fighting style Virgil, its a lifestyle, its an art form, its what you have to do to survive… when you can’t technical wrestle.”

He laughs.

“I can’t really technical wrestle… but I can fight really damn good, I’ve had years of practice. You can tap a few skulls with a pipe, but I can make you bleed while you still think you’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of making it out of the match with a win.”


“I can paint a masterpiece with both your blood and that of my own. I can make 3D pictures with both your flesh and that of my own. I can bring in an audio soundtrack with the screams of pain, the grunts of hurt, the gasps of breath, and the cheers of the fans. I can even bring in the sounds of your flesh being torn, the steel clanging against your skull, I can do all of that Virgil… not because I’m the best technical wrestler… but because I’m fuckawesome when it comes to hardcore fighting. I don’t just like it, I fucking love it.”

The crowd is whispering as he drags on the cigarette.

“You can say that hardcore isn’t art, but consider me Picasso when it comes to hardcore… I’m one of the best. You can say and believe all day long that hardcore gets you nowhere in this career. You can say that hardcore is nothing, but I’ve got one question for you Virgil before we face off later tonight…”

Lights flare up, three to be specific, they are trained on the following: 3 World Titles, 2 Tag Team Titles, 2 #1 Contender Cups, 2008 Best of the Best Tag Team plaque, 1 Global Championship, 1 PWA Tag Team Championship. Dale is no longer in the ring, his voice comes over the speakers still though.

“If hardcore isn’t legit, then how come I’ve got so many of these Championship belts, these plaques? Forget the ones outside of Rebel Pro for right now, focus in on the 3 Rebel Pro World Titles… how many of them do you have? Focus in on the 2 Rebel Pro Tag Team Championships… how many do you have? Focus in on the 2008 Best of the Best plaque, how many do you have? Focus in on the #1 Contender’s Cup, how many do you have?”

He laughs.

“Virgil, if hardcore isn’t legit, then where are all of your belts… technically?”

Laughter, fading to silence.

Because Virgin Keenan is a Cunt Match

Dale Petty versus Virgil Keenan

Just as the bell rings, Dale Petty comes stomping out, going right to the attack on Virgil, nailing him with a quick hook to the stomach. Virgil is unable to fight back from these body shots, making him drop to his knees, allowing a thirsty, violent legend to continue his damaging, battering him with softening blows to the back and neck region.

Pulling Virgil onto his feet, Dale strikes with some reckless headbutts, bashing himself against the glittery blue mask on Virgil’s bandaged face (that Anna Mathews match sure fucked him up), backing him into a nearby corner. In here, Dale maddeningly explodes with a flurry of jabs and occasional uppercuts, making sure Virgil is unable to move out of the cornered position! With gusto, Petty strongly whips Virgil across the ring, compelling him to slam violently into the opposite turnbuckles and follows after with a 250lb avalanche splash!

However, at the last second, Virgil slips through the ropes, out of the way! As result, Detty crashes chest-first against the upper turnbuckle, allowing for Virgil to jump off the apron and drop an elbow onto Dale’s upper spine, repeating this action six times! Up atop the turnbuckle, Virgil impressively lifts Dale Petty in order to drive forward into the canvas with a table-turning double underhook backbreaker!


Linzi Martin: There’s NOTHING illegal about that! That is absolute redemption!

Larry Gordon: Alright, calm down, you two. It’s hard enough to call the match now that thousands of fans are screaming in joy.

Jake Norton: Somewhere backstage, Sean Robinson is chanting, “THIS IS WRESTLING”

Linzi Martin: God bless Sean Robinson.

Seven seconds later, Dale Petty isn’t a fan of this game-changer, though, as he hurriedly jets off the mat like a bear, going for a one-armed swinging neckbreaker. Sweating heavily, Virgil slips out of Dale’s meaty arm and sprints into the corner, instantaneously springing off the ropes and a flying uppercut knocks Dale onto his back! Right away, a rejuvenated Virgil Keenan cross presses Dale, going for a count, however, the second the referee strikes the mat for a one-count, Dale muscles Virgil off him, pushing him overhead!

Virgil goes right back on the attack, trying to keep the much larger man down and out, wanting to immobilize his strength factor. Despite the midsection kneeing and hand stomps, Dale Petty pushes his way to his feet, shrugging off the methodical strategy and grabs Virgil by the neck for some choking! In a second, Virgil swats Dale’s rough bear claws away, only to deliver a dropkick to the chest of Dale, which knocks him back a few steps. Popping back up, Virgil delivers a second dropkick, which sends Dale against the ropes, still on his feet!

Bouncing off the opposite set of ropes, Virgil comes storming back, hoping to take Dale down. But still very intact mentally, Dale ducks down, scoop lifting Virgil, hoping to send him airborne and drop him to the floor via release powerbomb. Luckily for the masked technician, he is able to pull Dale over-the-top-rope via hurricanrana! Landing safely on the ring apron, allowing him to dive off onto a rising Dale with an elbow drop, Petty is sent face-first into the concrete! Returning to the apron once more, just like the last elbow drop, Virgil dives off and hits Dale, who, unlike last time, is not stirring.

Larry Gordon: Those two elbow drops have made Dale look like silly putty.

Jake Norton: And Virgil didn’t need to use a half-nelson suplex to accomplish that this time!

Shoving Dale into the ring, Virgil sighs deeply before following his prone opponent. Three leg lariats later, Dale Petty rocks on the canvas in pain. Comfortable with this, Virgil pulls Dale up by his ears, spits in his face for some good heat from the audience, and then knees Dale directly in his jaw! Falling backward dramatically, Dale is covered by Virgil, but refuses to let Virgil pick up the victory! Sort of surprised by this, Virgil doesn’t hesitate to execute a rolling senton! Trying once more for a pin, again, it’s unsuccessful.

Watching Dale rise into a knelt position, Virgil charges forward to knee strike his baldheaded ass in the backside, but Dale ducks! Virgil staggers forward into the turnbuckle, turns around to eat a random kick to the groin, and take a ride to trailer trash park!


Linzi Martin: Seated three-quarter facelock jawbreaker!

Larry Gordon: Dale shoots for the cross!

Ah hell yeah! Dale Petty hooks the leg, and as the fans cheerfully sing-a-long with the referee, three counts are made, declaring Dale Petty the winner!

Watch The Throne

Backstage, Scottie Snow is standing guard outside a door with a nameplate that reads “The Phoenix” on it. He’s once again wearing his all white suit and stands at attention, seemingly ready to attack. This is not the Scottie Snow the AOWF is used to. Moments later, three men in hooded robes approach the door and Scottie nods, then lets them in.

Inside the room, the Phoenix is sitting on a very elaborate chair. A throne, if you will. His AOWF World title belt is set on a display stand next to him. The REBEL Pro World title is tossed carelessly on the ground.

The Phoenix: This… this is not a position I wanted to be in. It makes me physically sick to have to be known as the champion of a shit hole like REBEL Pro. But fate has stepped in my path and showed me a different route to my destination.

The Phoenix: This week I face a woman I’ve fought so many times in the past. And really, she is the very embodiment of everything that’s wrong with the AOWF today. What better way to continue my chain of destruction? I was going to take down the PWA first, but maybe this is better. After all, why should REBEL Pro get to stick around long enough to see the demise of the PWA? I started with Jethro Hayes and once I tore down the PWA’s favorite blood bag, why not make an example of a person that has no business setting foot in the ring, let alone in the ring with me.

The Phoenix: The key word there is “example”. I’ve got a request for the three of you tonight. I couldn’t care less about winning or losing in this company. What I do care about is making sure that after we’re done this evening that the entire world knows what is going to happen to the rest of the AOWF.

The hooded men nod as a grin spreads across the Phoenix’s face.

A Sea of Orange(or whatever)

We open to a sea of orange. Or is it oranges? We can’t tell and honestly, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the two puppets in the life raft. One is a wannabe ninja while the other is Scottish as fuck. They salute the camera like dueling epileptics.

PuppetMasa: Muffle muff muffle muff uffle uf!

There’s a crooked grin from the OMGSpectre thing. But that’s all he can do with his head being made out of a pumpkin.

PuppetDyce: Take off your scarf, lad. They can’t hear ya.

A slight glance at said contraption causes many facepalms. It comes down forcefully.

PuppetMasa: Thanks. I really don’t need to sound like PuppetTeresa.

PuppetTeresa: WINS INNER WINS!

That gibberish seems to be coming from the pirate ship that snuck up from behind. The twosome look up to see a long telescope looking at the inflated bath toy. A rope dangles from the side and down comes PuppetLisa. She unleashes all the kicks, forcing the Adrian thing to swim in all that Vitamin C.

PuppetLisa: Attention, fucknuggets! Pay no mind to these cunts. The Alliance is just how it should be: dying at the hands of my greatness and your apathy. Be like Virgil Keenan and whine about life. Cry like little babies as I win all your titles. No-show a card because you lost a match.

Extreme close up.

PuppetLisa: I abort all your oranges!

The Seldonganger snatches an orange, snags a silly straw and proceeds to do just that. PuppetDyce gawks at her as a cloud of pixie dust appears.

PuppetLiza: Well, at least she’s not trying to kill herself.

Laddy looks over… and does a double take.

PuppetDyce: What the-

The magician sniffs his head.

PuppetLiza: You smell nice.

…We better get back to something normal before this turns into a fetish film. QUICK!

Non-Title Match: REBEL Pro World versus REBEL Pro Aggression Champion BONANZA!

The Phoenix versus Anna Mathews

The Phoenix locked Anna Mathews up right away to hold her down, knowing full well her tendency to go high flying. Phoenix with a hip toss takes Anna down. She’s back up, he follows it up with a short arm clothesline on the new Aggression Champion. Anna Mathews won’t go down though and she’s right back up, right into a spinning backbreaker from The Phoenix. Phoenix shrugs off the boos he gets every time he manages any sort of offense at all. Really, the REBEL fans boo him for every breath he takes. But his dominance doesn’t stop as Anna Mathews gets lifted up to her feet by her neck and hair by The Phoenix, who then takes her back down with a DDT. The REBEL Champion covers!




Anna kicks out, of course. Phoenix doesn’t relent, lifting her back to her feet but now Anna with a well-placed elbow puts a stop to all this Robinson nonsense. Another, this time a headspring back elbow that knocks The Phoenix flat on his ass. Anna springboard moonsault now, and she’s right back to her feet with the crowd rejuvenated and cheering her on. Anna bounces off the ropes, leg drop connects. Phoenix crawls away and gets to his feet. Anna rushes at him but Phoenix bends forward and then as she jumps his back he lifts and throws her out of the ring. He puts his hands on his knees, bending forward and shaking his head. As he turns around however, he finds Anna was on the apron and she jumps up onto the top rope and hits a springboard drop kick that wows the crowd. She covers!




Anna Mathews looks to continue her offensive now but as Phoenix gets to his feet, a short arm clothesline puts an end to those hopes for Anna. He locks in a Texas cloverleaf and wrenches the submission on Anna. She holds her head, shaking it no that she won’t quit even as The Phoenix continues to wrench the hold with a huge grin behind that stupid mask of his. Anna Mathews manages to reach for the bottom rope, but The Phoenix maintains the hold knowing even though a tap out now wouldn’t count he can still continue to do as much damage as possible. Finally relenting he lets go and steps forward, raising two arms in the air to the annoyance of the sold out crowd. Anna gets on her knees, still in pain. Phoenix turns and goes to give her a big boot to the face and send her to hell but she grabs his leg and quickly does the Mandala hineri which electrifies the crowd. She’s still in pain and shows it but as Phoenix gets to his feet, ANNA WITH THE BOOMERFLY KICK! SHE QUICKLY COVERS!




NO! Three men in hoods break the count and begin savagely beating down Anna Mathews. She can’t protect herself from the total onslaught as Phoenix gets to his feet and climbs the top rope. The Ashes! His top rope elbow drop crushes Anna’s chest cavity in and he hooks the legs.





The Phoenix gets to his feet and quickly the ring gets pelted with garbage by fans at front row pissed off at what just happened. The three hooded men nod to The Phoenix, as he raises the AoWF and REBEL Pro world titles high. Anna Mathews rolls out of the ring and clutches her sides, as we fade to the asshole The Phoenix…


Justin Case defeats Jeremy Gold
Marvin Wood defeats Johnny Maverick
Jake Norton defeats Jonathan Cage
Anna Mathews defeats Marvin Wood to become the new Aggression Champion
Dale Petty defeats Virgil Keenan
The Phoenix defeats Anna Mathews

Underground X: Blacklist #42

Blacklist logo featuring Macca


Underground X: Blacklist #42

Blacklist #42

A Final Dosage of Alba & Co.

It’s hard thinking of a way to formally announce this is the final transcript I will ever write for Underground X fans, because I’ve never been appropriately formal. Yes, I’m way more so than my colleague, Kevin Holiday. Still, X’erground is a subgenre within an already subculture; meaning we’re a relaxed bunch of general politically incorrect, vulgar and exploitive bastards, which is likely why our ship is wrecked.

Even so, admittedly, a lump clogs my throat, not because I’m out of a job, though that is shitty, but I really do love this promotion. If my life were a book, this past wonderful year would undoubtedly fill several chapters full of hilarity, attitude and classics. It was quite the consumer of my pathetic life.

But these transcripts are part of me, in a way, if you think of them as journal entries for my weekly adventures in pro wrestling commentary. I take pride in these, and so, refuse to let Kevin Holiday be the last known publisher of the Blacklist. For selfish reason, I nostalgically write the following, and hope you understand the truly ironic deliverance of Underground X’s abrupt finale.

Starting off with a Bang!

The projector screen comes to life to show Macca sitting in the car park of the UX Warehouse in his shitty old van/home. Unlike the usual shit eating smirk that we are accustomed to, however, the Cuntster has a look of complete seriousness on his face.

Way to no sell what I did last week, Sal! Champion vs. Champion? I dumped your piece of shit title in a bin in this very car park last week, remember? No, you probably don’t, because unless it suits your grand designs, you tend to just ignore what everyone around you says.

Standing up, Macca begins to roam the rows of cars in the UX arena as he continues to speak.

And don’t think that nobody has seen what you have done here. You have put me in a match with a fucking terrorist; the man that – because of his actions – has put us out of an arena and has even killed some people. A man that you should have instantly fired, if not suspended! Is this your answer to getting rid of me, Sal? Hope that your champion literally kills me off?

Macca finally stops walking and brings up a large bottle of spirits with a rag that is sticking out from the top.

You know what this tells me, Sal? That you actually enjoyed the carnage that The Mainerishi rained down upon us, two weeks ago. What the fuck is wrong with you? Well, if you like fire and explosions, then you’re sure to like this.

Grabbing for his back pocket, Macca produces a small Zippo lighter, which he uses to light the rag in the spirits bottle.

This is called a Molotov cocktail, ladies and gents, but you all probably already know this, HOWEVER -

Macca takes a step back and lets the camera focus in a very classy and expensive looking vintage car.

– what the fans probably don’t know is that this car right here is a Jaguar E type. Widely classified as one of, if not the greatest cars in the world, and let me tell you, they can cost a pretty penny. Salvatore D’Aquila, however, would probably know this better as ‘my car’. Since our esteemed boss seems to like expensive cars, fires and explosions, I thought, why not give him a present by combining all three?

And with a flick of the wrist, the cocktail flies through the air before smashing the passenger side window of the car and lighting up the interior. Flames explode into the air before settling back down. The whole interior of the car has lightened up, and doesn’t look like it plans to go out any time soon.

Here’s the deal, D’Aquila! You try and pull your mind game bullshit again and I will start doing much, much worse than this. You put that terrorist back in a ring and you don’t even make it for the title? Blow it out your ass! Tonight I’ll end your champion, softening him up for Robbo, and after I have taken him out, I’ll be coming after you! Cheers that, cunts!

Macca walks out of the shot as the picture zooms in on the burning interior of the Jaguar before fading to black.

Serious v. Funny
Reece Paxton
Jack McHammer

- In his debut match, former REBEL Pro veteran, Jack McHammer, crosses over to take on established UX wrestler, Reece Paxton. While McHammer has many pros going for him, amongst those being a healthy body, for starters, Paxton enters looking deathly ill. Why? If you’ve not yet heard about the baffling drive-by shooting (that term doesn’t justify the outrageous firepower the mysterious attackers used on Paxton) you’d only need to see his bandaged right arm and left leg, where two (cleansed) bullet wounds set camp, as proof of his utter willpower and foolishness. He should not be competing tonight, but despite doctor’s orders, and thanks to Salvatore’s disgusting encouragement, Paxton is marching out like a vanguard soldier.

- Jumping enzuigiri immediately out of the gate, McHammer blasts Paxton, who walked up the steel steps and came onto the apron, thus sending him face-first into the apron and falling sideways off onto the concrete below, dramatically! Not only in pain for his aching face, but the awkward landing also cranked the hurt on his damaged limbs. Rocking like a cradle on the ground, an unprepared Paxton receives one diving fist drop from the top turnbuckle by McHammer! Right after, McHammer slips his hand beneath the apron and pulls out – for the love of gawd – a frying pan! Slamming the pan against Paxton, Reece fortunately blocks the first few shots with his forearm, though that can’t be pleasant. Two jabs to the chin by Paxton successfully compel McHammer to retreat into the ring.

Following inside with the same frying pan, Paxton is caught under several stomps, but pushes up onto his feet, regardless. Although punched multiple times in the face, when Paxton swung the metallic pan, the impact forced McHammer to stagger backward into a nearby turnbuckle! Leaping into the turnbuckle with a shoot kick, McHammer should’ve fallen forward but Paxton’s bombardment of nastier kicks ruled Jack pitifully. Afterward, a super kick (McHammer’s own signature) sends McHammer over-the-top-rope, with Paxton’s slingshot body splash serving Jack straightforward.

Fans plead for Paxton to bring the fight into the crowd, so he courteously does! Punching McHammer along the way over, Paxton lifts Jack and drops him testicle-first onto the guardrail! Elbowing Jack thrice on the backside of his skull, Paxton then easily guides McHammer through a few rows of fans and onto the bleachers. Scoop slamming Jack onto a cleared row, a dazed McHammer makes Paxton’s next maneuver both easier and crazier: a belly-to-belly suplex over the RAILING! FUCK! McHammer broke like a watermelon!

Skipping two minutes later, Paxton manages to bring Jack back to ringside via whippings with some fan’s leather belt! Escaping a slash by climbing over the guardrail, a bloody-back McHammer picks up the frying pan from earlier and smashes it against Paxton’s forehead, busting his eyebrow wide open! Paralyzed by the headshot, Paxton allows McHammer to double underhook DDT him into the concrete! Shoving Paxton inside the ring, McHammer ascends the turnbuckle once more to drop another diving fist, but this time into Paxton’s spine! Rolling Paxton over and hooking the leg, McHammer gets the – NO! A kickout!

Pulling Paxton onto his feet by his hair, McHammer wants to take Paxton on a mustache ride (last ride powerbomb) but Reece doesn’t like plunges. Instead, Paxton takes McHammer on a ride of tilt-a-whirl headscissors! Getting onto his knees soon as possible, McHammer unfortunately rushes into a headstand dropkick, sending him onto the canvas again! Like any bloodthirsty predator, Paxton applies a crippler crossface neckcrank that submits McHammer after twelve grueling seconds!

- The warehouse echos with Rush’s “Farcry” as the crowd cheers for Reece Paxton, the ref raises his uninjured arm in victory while he holds his other bloody shot up arm close to his chest, red in the face and panting he looks out to the crowd for a few seconds before turning to the outside of the ring and reaching for a patented UX Microphone.

Reece Paxton: “If you don’t read the tabloids, or you’ve been living under a rock, I was shot twice in the arm and leg by unknown assailants… my red 1967 chevy impala was blown to bits by a Rocket Propelled Grenade… I was the target for an act of domestic terrorism…”

He cracked a bit of a grin.

Reece Paxton: “luckily I was only grazed once, and the other was a through and through… so really, I should be at home, my arm should be slung… and I should be healing, sitting at home, watching UX as a fan…”

He looked at his hand that was dripping blood at his feet.

Reece Paxton: “But you know, I wouldn’t be able to sit there on my couch in the great white north… watching The Blacklist… and seeing Simon Kalis’s smug fucking grin, knowing he got the better of me…”

He went silent for a moment.

Reece Paxton: “Yeah… don’t ask me how I know… but while dealing with scum like him, I’ve learned to follow my gut feeling… and my gut is telling me that black fucking cyclops had something to do with it… its way to convenient for his Son’s lover and his stunning daughter to be in Las Vegas… distracting me with her magnificent breasts… and all I can think is “Shit if Rape were legal.”… and wouldn’t you know it, as soon as they drive off, terrorists open fire, kill poor willy, a homeless man that shielded me… unknowingly… from a hail of bullets… and the puppy I bought for my niece… there was nothing left of the poor guy…”

He shook his head.

Reece Paxton: “I fucked with Simon Kalis, I didn’t just poke the bear, I took a hot iron rod and jabbed it into his ass, but Simon knows, he’s not stupid… when we met in the ring, it took four of his cronies to knock me out… he knows he can’t meet me head on and win, so instead he hides beside gangs and acts of terrorism to try and take me down, to try and scare me, because he knows he can’t beat me.”

He looked out into the crowd with an almost sadistic grin.

Reece Paxton: “I could be wrong… maybe its the ultra passion movement just trying to fuck with the roster… maybe it was the Bloods, maybe they think I’m a Crip. The fact of the matter is, who ever did the job did a terrible job, cause I’m still standing here, I still wrestled tonight, and I still win.”

He held up his bloody hand.

Reece Paxton: “and I’ll still be here next week.”

“Farcry” by Rush hits the speaker as Reece drops the mic in the ring, walking out, still holding his bloody hand up high.

That Shit Cray

We fade to outside The Warehouse. A black BMW X5 is at the center of a large motorcade, with both police and private security. There is a large Yukon XL at its front, and at its back while being flanked by two police motorcycles at the front of the motorcade itself, and two police motorcycles at its back. As the motorcade comes to a stop, two men from each of the Yukon XL’s step out and open the passenger side door to the BMW X5. Out steps Simon Kalis, adjusting his black and red pinstripe Armani suit as he steps forward and takes note of the UX cameras. From the driver’s side door, Maya steps out and rushes over to her dad. Their security guards flank them as they begin moving forward. Simon puts his arm out, his elbow cocked and Maya snuggles up to her dad. She smiles for the camera.

Maya: They’ve come to greet us, dad.

Simon grunts, his jaw still wired shut after the vicious attack by Reece Paxton.

Maya: See I know what you fags are thinking. The Kalis family is pussy. I mean God, look at all the security! Big, handsome white men in suits! Sexy uniforms flanking us as we drive through Vegas.

Simon grunts again, shaking his head.

Maya: But you’re all fucking savages! You’ve got motherfuckers blowing up arenas, people doing drive bys, and worst of all you’ve got legions of virgins tuning in each and every week to see Marina Blue get fucked in the ass by a stapler. Savages and virgins are the only idiots that watch this shit. When the day comes that the two halves of the UX Fanbase meet, we’re likely to have people grabbing my cunt and trying to rape me in a locker room shower scene.

Maya smiles, Simon chuckles kinda sorta. Fucking jaw. Security of course keeps an eye out all around them.

Maya: See this doesn’t happen where we come from. You know, the AoWF. REBEL Pro. The civilized world. How else do you have psychopaths like the Ultra Passion Movement able to run freely in UX? It’s scary. UX is fucking Baghdad, and REBEL Pro is America. And nobody likes Iraq. But everyone wants to be America. And because of the brutal savagery of these wastelands called UX, my dad here got viciously attacked by Reece Paxton leaving him unable to compete.

Maya gives her dad a peck on the cheek, awwww.

Maya: But see we’re not savages. Sure people in REBEL Pro get their face grated or get DDT’d into C4 explosives, but we never experienced terrorism. And on behalf of my father Simon Kalis, and all of REBEL Pro, we would like to personally give our condolences to all those who lost their lives and were injured. And we do not say this with just words, our family has pledged one million dollars to a charity fund we’ve started for the victims of the UPM and UX awfulness. Go online and donate, and the Kalis family will also match every dollar donated by the public!

Simon nods respectfully. Maya opens her jacket and shows a black t-shirt that says “#UXTragedyFund” on it.

Maya: Get it trending on twitter people! Join the Facebook group! Allow us REBELs to enlighten the dark age denizens of the X’erground both inside and outside the ring! And that’s where we come to this week. Here to team up with Jonathan Cage against the Dirty Joke, Allen Chaney and Marina Blue. And let’s be real folks. We all know what’s gonna fucking happen. This is why these idiots had to leave the AoWF, because they’re boring and repetitive. I’m sure what you’ll find is Marina Blue finding herself in a brand new situation involving her getting a fist shoved up the abyss she calls her vagina while cutting a promo where no one gives a fuck what she’s saying. No one watches Marina Blue for her shoot ability or her in ring talent, people watch her to see her get fucked which she’s really, really good at! Inside, AND outside of the ring!

Maya plays at lifting her shirt up, Simon nudges her.

Maya: Pfft. Anyone can have sex appeal, you know?

Maya lifts her shirt up to reveal she is braless. Simon IMMEDIATELY steps away in disgust as he cringes, walking right into the arena and shaking his head. Maya stands there momentarily, her small yet perky breasts mesmerizing you fucking virgins who watch UX.

Maya: And if Allen can find his monster dick under that gut, I’m sure he’s hard too!

She puts her shirt back down.

Maya: Which brings us to him. Here’s how it’ll go with Allen Chaney! He’ll start his promo off likely at a comedy club where everyone is busy drinking away their misery, not actually caring about any of his jokes. Then he’ll come and talk about how he just wants to kick ass, which he’s not too good at. He’ll say that he doesn’t like the AoWF Gods whom he tried escaping from, when LAWL YOU CAN’T ESCAPE DEITIES SILLY ALLEN.

Maya palms her face.

Maya: There’s no creativity here. There’s little substance, what you have with Dirty Joke is repetitive juvenile bullshit each and every week with subpar wrestling skills. What I’m bringing is what my bloodline is known for. Grit. Stamina. Talent. Winning ability each and every single week a Kalis steps into the ring. And with the great Jonathan Cage by my side? I ain’t too worried right now. People don’t laugh when they see us, they nod in respect. And we don’t get fucked.

Maya thrusts a few times and smirks.

Maya: We do the fucking. What we’re bringing is not only a contrast to the terrorists and amateur pornstar comedians the UX finds itself in bed with. We’re bringing talent, we’re bringing genuine wrestling back to UX. And sure we may do some batshit crazy shit on the way, but ya gotta have fun doing what you’re doing! See ya soon dolls.

Maya winks and walks into the arena, surrounded by the other half of the security team that didn’t enter the warehouse with Simon since fuck these terrorist scum. Yeah!

Fish & Veggies

“So, you’re a presbyterian?” asks Johnny while driving.

“Pescatarian” says Allen.

“Oh, what does that mean?”

“It means I’m a vegetarian now but I can eat fish.” Says Allen.

“Oh, alright.” says Johnny.

Allens phone rings, he puts it on speaker.


“Allen, it’s Brad. How are you going to wrestle?”

“Um…what?” asks Allen.

“Yeah, I just read on twitter that you’re a pacifist now?”

“Pescatarian. New diet.” says Allen, matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Hang on, Sean wanted to ask you something.” says Brad, we hear the phone being handed over to someone.

“Hello? Hey Allen. Man, this is a huge lifestyle change.” says Sean.

“Yeah well, I need to lose weight. There’s no getting around it.” says Allen.

“So, are you going to ride in cars at all? How do you feel about bicycles now that you’re a strict pedestrian?” asks Sean. Allen groans, Johnny is laughing behind his hand. We hear the phone switching hands again.

“Hey man, so I hear you’re a pedophile now.” says another voice.

“I fucking hate you guys.” syas Allen. He hangs up.

“We’re all just fucking with you, man. Why are you so on edge?” says Johnny.

“I could have died in a terrorist attack and Simon Kalis had a guy shot with a grenade launcher.” says Allen.

“Yeah, that sounds like Simon.” says Johnny, shrugging.

“I haven’t been talking about it because I know if I thought about it hard enough I’d get the fuck out of this company forever. I came here because I thought things would be less complicated. Yeah, there’s less backstage political horseshit but… I mean in RXW I never thought I might get fucking shot ya know? I can hang with anyone in the ring, I’m confident of that but….it’s like the ring is the only place I feel safe anymore in UX. Last week I won, I got my shit and I got the fuck out of there. Hell, if I had been feeling a little more social I probably would have been in the building when it went down. That Mainerishi guy… someone has to put a stop to him and everyone like him. Like Sociopath and…”

“And Simon Kalis?” asks Johnny.

“Yeah, and him. I don’t know if he’ll ever learn a lesson but…I’d absolutely love being the guy to teach one to him. Him and anyone else who is hooked on his kool-aid.” says Allen, he takes a sip of his water.

“I suggest sleeping with his daughter.” says Johnny.

“To get in his head?”

“No, because you need to relax and she’s a good ride.”

“No thanks. I don’t dip my wick in crazy. Not after a bunch of my comics got lit on fire.”

“Fair enough.” Johnny says, shrugging.

“Man, I really do hope Simon is there though. I just want to look him right in the eyes when I beat two of his best. I want him to just… I want him to instantly wrap his head around the monster he’s unleashed.” says Allen.

“And hope he doesn’t have a grenade launcher.” says Johnny, turning to Allen and giving a big cheesy smile.

“Right….that too. If he brings a gun he had better hope he hits me, otherwise I’ll jam the thing right up his ass and give him an enema he’ll never forget.”

“Sheesh, I had no idea you Episcopalians were so violent.” Johnny says, before smirking.

“Oh fuck you.” says Allen as Johnny drops him off at the UX Arena. Allen grabs his bag and steps out. He sees an expensive car pass by and he eyes it warily before stepping in the arena back entrance.

Rich’s Rasslin’ Round Table

We open on a small set with four people sitting in chairs facing each other in a circle.

Rich: Hello and welcome to Rich’s Rasslin’ Roundtable. I’m your host, Rich Lawrence. Joining me today are three very exciting up-and-coming wrestling talents from three of the biggest wrestling promotions in the country. To my right is a man who lights up True Glory Wrestling with his talents on the mic as well as in the ring, give it up for the funky one, FUNK DOGG!

Funk Dogg tries to look badass.

Rich: To his right is the woman to claims to be the true queen of hardcore, she rose to fame in Rebel-Pro but now she represents Underground X. Give it up for MARINA BLUE!

Marina smiles and blows the viewer a kiss.

Rich: Finally we have the man who dares to call himself an Emperor; he is one of the superstars of the Pioneer Wrestling Association, EMPEROR IAN!

Ian takes a chip out of the bag he’s holding and shoves it in his mouth. He weakly waves hi at the camera.

Rich: Well it’s great to have you all here. There have been some crazy things going on in the world of wrestling recently, and I’d love to hear your thoughts about them.

Marina: You mean like the UX arena bombing?

Rich: Exactly.

Funk Dogg: Yeah man, I heard about the shit. That was fucked up.

Marina: No kidding.

Ian: I don’t get it, if everyone knows the Manerishi -

Marina: Mainerishi.

Ian: Whatever, the point is everyone knows he’s responsible for this act. And yet he’s not in jail and he’s still wrestling for the company. What the fuck is that all about?

Marina: Well unfortunately, there’s no evidence that he was involved in planning the act.

Ian: So what? The American government goes after people all the time who have far less on them then this guy does. For Christ sakes, those were his henchmen that were apprehended. Maybe that’s not enough to lock him away in San Quentin, but at the very least you can place him in custody.

Marina: Well obviously they can’t.

Ian: Maybe not in bullshit wrestling world, but in the real world his commune would be raided, his ass would be tasered, and he and the rest of his goons would be taken away by a swat team.

Marina: Ian, this is the real world.

Ian: Yes of course it is. Anyway, maybe Obama will have a sniper go in and pick him off. The way this month has been going he may need an October surprise.

Funk Dogg: Man fuck that Obama, lettin in homos in the army and shit.

Marina: Real mature, asshole.

Ian: Who’re you for; Romney?

Funk Dogg: Hell no, I’m voting for Ron Paul. He’s gonna legalize weed man.

Ian and Marina share a look.

Rich: OK guys, that’s enough politics. Let’s continue with the topic of the UX attack. How did you guys feel about the reaction of the company and its talent?

Marina: The company did a shit job I feel. It’s obvious the only thing the powers that be care about is their wallets. God forbid they would let a minor thing like mass murder interrupt their schedule. Not to mention not only keeping the Mainerishi on the roster but also allowing him to remain champion. Not that the titles really matter in situations like this.

Ian: I thought the show was great the way the roster completely downplayed the situation in favor of hyping their own stupid feuds and worthless belts. I’d expect shit like that from Simon Kalis, possibly the most self-absorbed man I’ve ever met. But that old one-eyed fucker wasn’t even there. I’d like to think he was busy coming up with the $500K he owes me, but I know better.

Rich: Wait, what?

Marina: It’s nothing. Kalis offered that sum for info on the whereabouts of Matthew Engel, and Ian found some guy with the same name.

Ian: Which still counts. He didn’t specify which Matthew Engel he wanted info on.

Funk Dogg: Give it up bro.

Ian: Anyway, I thought Marina had the right idea, of getting the fuck outta there. She doesn’t need that place. She can come to PWA and tag with me. I know Lisa Seldon likes her, especially after defeating Riona Langly that one time.

Funk Dogg: No way man, she should join TGW and tag with me.

Marina: I could do both, if I wanted too.

Ian: Yeah, but you let those two plants talk you into staying, didn’t you?

Marina: Plants?

Ian: Come on, two fans somehow got backstage, despite all the security in that building? A

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little convenient, huh?

Marina: Eh well anyway I’m giving it a little more effort. I think Allen and I have the makings of a good team.

Ian: Whoopy freakin do.

Marina: Sorry if I actually care about my career a little bit. I guess you think it’s so fucking cool to not give a fuck.

Ian: I don’t give a fuck if it’s cool to not give a fuck. It doesn’t matter to me what happens to the other jackoffs in this stupid fucking so-called sport. All I give a fuck about is my fuckin paycheck. I ain’t fuckin returning to sleeping in my car.

Marina: You do know that TMB has offered you a shot at his AOWF IC title, right?

Ian: Yes. I am so fucking thrilled to have a chance to claim this fucking prestigious treasure as my very own. I can’t wait to be immortalized with the likes of…

He pulls out his smartphone and looks up something.

Marina: So we just wait -

Ian: Hold on.

He continues to fidget with it.

Rich: While we’re waiting, why don’t we discuss something else?

Funk Dogg: We can talk about the lovely sweet luscious Breanne Cayden.

Marina: She’s not into you, Dogg, leave her alone.

Funk Dogg: My mind is tellin me no, but my body, my body’s tellin me yes.

Marina: A shot of mace to the eyes would tell you no.

Ian: OK shut up guys, I found it. I can’t wait to be immortalized with the likes of Mark Haydn, Abunai, and November. Household names all of them.

Marina: That may be, but should you actually put effort in and somehow win this match, you’ll make more money. Titles aren’t just for bragging rights, there is monetary value attached.

Ian: No shit Marina. If I work harder, I’ll earn more.

Funk Dogg:He doesn’t want to work, he just wants to drink beer and smoke weed.

Ian: Shut up Mitch.

Rich: Alright guys settle down. I’m afraid that’s all the time we have tonight. I wanna thank you three all for coming.

Funk Dogg: It’s only been like five minutes.

Rich: And a fun five minutes it’s been. Thank you and goodnight.

The lights dim as the four continue chatting.

Tag Match: UX vs REBEL!

Dirty Joke(Marina Blue & Allen Chaney) versus The REBELs(Jonathan Cage & Maya Kalis) w/Simon Kalis

- Like all Underground X tag matches, we do things tornado style. All four members are in-ring at once, but it’s Allen Chaney who opens the battle by spearing Maya like a rhinoceros! In the meantime, Jonathan Cage avoids several stiff yet various kicks (savate, shoot, roundhouse, and axe) and counters with a vertical suplex. Attempting to lock in a Kimura, Cage cannot control Maya well enough, so she escapes but not without mule kicking Jonathan in the mouth! “I hope this means Cage can’t talk about Fisher for a while” Oh, come on, Kevin. It’s not that bad.

- Chaney may have more hatred for Simon but Maya’s blood connection to the Kalis apparently suffices tonight as a suitable replacement. Headbutting Maya four times, Chaney then gutwrench powerbombs Maya smackdown in front of Simon, who wears a scowl. Enjoying this embarrassment Maya is undergoing, Chaney knees Maya once in the face, elbows the nape of her neck, then lifts her onto his shoulders, heads toward the ropes, and tosses her over-the-top, to the outside, where she drops into Simon’s arms; the high velocity forces them both to collapse onto the cement messily! “Too bad Chaney became a faggoterian, otherwise he could’ve ate those dead dicks.” Don’t try so hard, Kevin.

- Sidewalk slam (Allen Chaney) plus an inverted leg drop bulldog (Marina Blue) ceases Cage’s movement momentarily. Long enough for Marina to hold a prone Cage’s legs apart as Allen jumps off the top turnbuckle to hit a diving headbutt into Cage’s scrotum! “That’s what’s up” Kevin affirms. Applying a cross press, Marina nearly gets the three, but Maya’s slingshot corkscrew disrupts! Landing on Marina’s head, Maya sidelines her for a minute, leaving only Allen to receive a frontal and side thrust kick into a – what Kevin Holiday calls – Cleveland Bus Uppercut! Knocking Allen onto his ass, Maya figuratively decapitates the comedian as if he were a jack-in-the-box when Allen tried attacking but ended up swallowing a Spartan kick to the mouth! “There goes a tooth” Fucking seriously?! I thought it was saliva but it could be a tooth!

- Belly-to-belly Suplex (Jonathan Cage) transitioned smoothly into a corkscrew neckbreaker (Maya Kalis) nearly murders Allen Chaney! Jesus, Kevin, Allen is bleeding so much from the mouth; he very well might have lost a tooth in the process! Maya goes for the cover, but right at the two, an intruding springboard legdrop ruins Maya’s attempt, courtesy of Marina Blue! Coming to REBELs rescue, Jonathan Cage wraps on an inverted headlock, cranking Marina’s neck – making her yell in pain and likely frustration, but that’s soon brought to a halt after a snap inverted DDT! “Hung that bitch by the clitoris” Kevin jokes.

- GOD DAMN IT, YOU REBEL PRICKS! THIS IS OUR ONLY TABLE! I HAVE TO BUY THESE MYSELF! Man, Jonathan Cage assisted Maya Kalis in lifting Marina Blue onto her shoulders as Maya stood atop the turnbuckles to leap forward into our announce table for a godlike sit-out powerbomb that blew every fucking mind in this warehouse!! “Scatter our brains, why don’t ya?” Everyone is shouting in joy that it’s almost hard to stay mad. This is intense! This is incredible! This is exactly the fucking level of quality only Underground X provides. Fuck all these other bullshit promotions with far inferior bullshit matches. “These two won’t be wrestling for a few weeks. Guarantee that, bitches” Kevin predicts.

- Readying to propel himself off the ropes and into a rising Allen Chaney, when Jonathan Cage springboards, Allen surprises, catching Cage with a bearhug, then tossing him over the shoulder and dropping for a reverse piledriver! Going for the pin, Allen couldn’t obtain the three due to a kickout! Lifting Cage, Allen tries a double underhook backbreaker, and as painful as that must have been, Cage still raised the shoulder before the three! Gesturing a cutthroat, all 342 pounds of Allen Chaney ascends the turnbuckle, preparing for a diving headbutt! Opposite of Allen, a revived Maya Kalis – to much astonishment – rushing across the apron till halfway, then leaps onto the ropes, which propel her alarmingly fast into Allen! In midair, Maya’s legs somehow slickly wrap themselves around Allen’s neck in time to execute an utterly BRILLIANT (caps lock for emphasis) hurricanrana that THREW Allen not JUST to the outside but OVER the barricade and INTO the fucking SECOND ROW of our audience!! “That potbellied pig took out seven people!?!” YES, KEVIN. YES! MAYA KALIS. MAYA KALIS.


-Sacrificing herself to save Jonathan Cage from Allen’s diving headbutt, Maya Kalis lays on the concrete outside the ring cradling her left arm. “It could be dislocated, Paul. She took one ugly bump” It’s probably safe to assume this time she’s out for good. Although, we said that earlier, and look at the fucking willpower she has. “But with Marina Blue still unconscious, and Allen Chaney obliterated, who can end this match now?!” Good question, Kevin. Referee Willie Williams seems unsure of what to do, but Jonathan Cage is stirring. Now aware of the situation, Cage goes to the outside to collect Marina Blue. Irish whipping Marina toward the apron, Marina weakly jumps and decently manages to roll inside the ring, but her left knee hit the apron harshly.

- Being opportunistic, Jonathan Cage returns to the inside and stomps on Marina’s left knee thrice. Slapping Marina twice in the face, fans are shouting verbal abuse to the former UX veteran (and arguable Legend) but he not care. Trying to bring Marina overhead, Cage is shown Marina’s fantastic flexibility via a mule kick directly blasting his nards! Taking two steps backward in pain as his mouth is agape, Marina seizes the moment to dirtpipe milkshake!! “VAN TERMINATOR” Kevin shouts! Ascending the turnbuckle, Marina shoots backward with a CORKSCREW MOONSAULT – THAT GETS THE THREE! DIRTY JOKE WINS. DIRTY JOKE DEFEATS THE REBELS!


“Slip It In” by Black Flag cues Marina Blue & Allen Chaney’s victory over Maya Kalis and Jonathan Cage. “Doesn’t Marina look outrageously hot when smiling that bloody grin?” Kind of.

MAIN EVENT: Champion versus Champion; Robinson On Commentary!

Macca versus The Mainerishi

- Paul Alba: Back from commercial break, and, sheesh, Robbo, that Johnny Roman made a serious claim to the number one contender spot, didn’t he?

Kevin Holiday: Hold on. How in the hell did Roman do that? Romes and Trev battle it out for twenty minutes, exchange chair shots, hit some DDTs and suplexes on the concrete, ending with the pair double knockout punching each other off the top of the jumbo-tron; freefalling twenty feet into stacked tables; just a typical day at the office, really.

Sean Robinson: Yeah, the match ended in a draw, but what Alba’s getting at is how Roman basically fought till at least neither him or Sands would be able to get the W. I suppose some people will look at that as something noteworthy, but all that really says is Roman will put up an extreme fight. Roman’s a risk taker, and sometimes that pays off, but putting yourself wholly at cost is likely to result in how this last match concluded: a draw. What’s the point, then? We don’t need someone who’s going to draw with Mainerishi. We need someone who can defeat the Mainerishi.

Paul Alba: That sounds, Robbo, you reasonable man. Speaking of reason, these fans are understandably hostile toward the first man out from the curtains, our Undisputed Champion, The Mainerishi.

Kevin Holiday: We all know what this awful sack of shit likely did, though there’s not much proof other than by association. To be honest, I’m disgusted by the sight of his ass-licking, ultra campaigning, raging mug.

Sean Robinson: I know my job out here is supposed to assist you two in calling the Main Event, but, I’m going to observe quietly instead.

Paul Alba: Perfectly fine. Holiday and I got this covered.

Kevin Holiday: But NOT Dead Rising.

Paul Alba: What?

Kevin Holiday: It’s surprising to see nobody accompany The Mainerishi to the ring, especially considering this is his first public appearance since the Blacklist 40.

Paul Alba: What’s even more unnerving is the probability of a full scale riot breaking out at any moment.

Kevin Holiday: Mainerishi’s heat is what I imagine Osama bin Laden having if he were a wrestler.

Paul Alba: Hahaha. Since when did Macca’s theme music start with glass shattering??

Kevin Holiday: I like how the Collingwood Football Club theme follows.

Paul Alba: This is the loudest, positive reaction I’ve ever heard for any wrestler in Underground X history. And there are only roughly five hundred people in here!

Kevin Holiday: Macca comes walking out like a damn action hero, with his head slightly bobbing, jaw clenched, and one mean scowl mixed with a trademark smirk.

Paul Alba: Sliding inside the ring, Mainer extends his hand for a shake, but MACCA HITS MAINER! LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT, LEFT – KICK HIS FUCKING ASS, MACCA!

- Irish Whip into the ropes, and Mainerishi comes back into a flapjack by Macca, but as Mainer is pushed into midair, Mainer effortlessly applies a headlock, so when he falls, in a swinging motion, Macca is countered by a horribly great snap DDT! How Macca’s head collided with the canvas could persuade someone into believing this match would end right there and then, but Macca fortunately kicked out before the second.

- Thrust kicking Macca in the chest, Mainer then slithers around Macca into a knot of Kimura with neckscissors. Flipping backward, Mainer’s submission is released immediately after Macca attempted an inverted straddle pin, but even so, Macca transformed this position into an ankle lock, further displaying his appetite for submission. And the ankle lock means serious business in Underground X, since three people (Deicide, Cesar Salazar & Johnny Roman) have utilized its madness to break the ankle of their opponents.

Rolling forward, Mainerishi forces Macca to stagger forward into the ropes, but simultaneously with Mainer’s standing, Macca rebounds off the ropes backward via springboard moonsault, taking Mainerishi back down to the canvas! Only a single count, however. Also, apparently not as effective as desired (the moonsault), Macca’s assisted onto his feet by Mainerishi, only for the (alleged) Terrorist to overhead double underhook suplex Macca across the ring!

- Driving to hurricanrana city, Mainerishi, for the first time in Underground X, repetitively delivers a whopping five hurricanrana’s to Macca, that send him fumbling and tumbling around the ring till the last aerial twister throws him into a nearby corner. Pulling himself upward by the ropes, Macca stands to see an incoming shoulder tackle, but cleverly counters via one-armed side slam; a slam which impact had Mainer’s head bounce off the canvas like a rubber ball! Now that Mainer lies, Macca choked Mainer with his foot for seven seconds till deciding to switch into vicious stomping onto the Undisputed Champion’s ribcage! Unsurprising that Mainerishi’s may have broken a rib after Macca crushed his stomach thirteen times. But what is surprising is Mainerishi refusing to stay down for the three counts!

- Changing gears, this match no longer becomes about outwrestling one another. Macca leaves the ring, giving Mainerishi time to recuperate, deliberately. During this brief recess, Macca confronts a seated Salvatore D’Aquila, aggressively.

“You sit there fucking oblivious to the fact I am capable of beating that tosser and saving your fucking company, Cuntator! When I pin his ultra cunt, what will this all mean? It’ll be for nothing. Unless you put aside your differences with me, and do what you claim is ‘right’. Hell, I know you don’t give a damn about what’s ‘right’ but consider how it’ll straighten your bent company.”

Leaving Salvatore to chew on those thoughts, Macca reenters the ring, just in time for Mainerishi to go on the offense. Landing two kicks on Macca’s back, the Cuntster finds footing before any serious damage could be done, plus, Mainerishi loses control thanks to Macca’s barroom fists of jawbreakers. The next ten seconds is spent with Macca reeling in like a smart yet caught shark readying to gobble Mainerishi’s silly strategy. And when the time comes, fourteen headshots conclude in Macca knee striking Mainerishi so hard in the ribs, Mainer screams girly!

Kevin Holiday: RAPE TACKLE!

Sean Robinson: SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!

Hooking the leg, Macca watches referee Charlie only reach two counts before Mainerishi exhaustingly powers out! HOT DAMN!

- From all this excitement and tension, Vanessa rushes across ringside toward a now standing Salvatore D’Aquila, holding his hand out to accept the microphone Vanessa carries.

Salvatore D’Aquila:
“Macca, I have heard your call, and you’re right! I am going to put my faith in you. These fans are putting their faith in you. Macca, you MUST defeat the Mainerishi! This match is now for the Undisputed Championship!”



- Bleeding from the mouth after being struck so hard by Macca’s Busaiku Knee Kick (tribute to Kevin Holiday, who never fails to mention it’s in his honor), Mainer lost three of his front teeth, to so much fucking approval! The brutality of this match is off the charts! Fucking hell, Macca may as well be holding a shovel! It’s burial time! Dazed by the punt to his head by Macca, Mainerishi is within reach of death’s cold, blue hands! Pulling Mainerishi up by his messy, blood-stained hair, Macca shouts at him:

“Quincy Percival Ronald McDonald Has Defeated You!”

Guillotine neck crank!! The second time Macca has busted out the neck crank, with its first use in eliminating Robbie Ferrari from the Uncensored Battle Royal at Blacklist 40! Can Mainerishi hang on?! If he submits, this will end his Ultra Passion Movement! It’ll undoubtedly cost him his job, and he’ll be cast far away from the spotlight he craves forevermore! “Break his fucking neck!” Holiday demands!



“Stand Up (For The Champions)” by Right Said Fred blares in name of Macca’s Undisputed victory! Fireworks explode, confetti showers ringside, and fans merrily sing and drink to their new Undisputed Champion as Salvatore D’Aquila holds his head in his hands!? Why the fuck is he doing that?! He should be proud that Macca has brought the solution!


Sean Robinson: Ugh.

Coming down the entranceway is none other than Macca’s father-like figure, ‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson, with tears streaming down his face! Now on the apron, before entering through the ropes, Bad Man points his index finger at Macca, then does his signature funky dance on the apron! Macca smiles and the audience pops for the veteran’s antic.

’Bad Man’ Reece Jackson: Son, I didn’t realize the dream physically, but through your success, It’s the same dream.

Now quite sentimental, Macca and ‘da bad guy’ embrace each other via a hug similar to Chris Benoit & Eddie Guerrero’s at WrestleMania XX. :’)

While ‘Bad Man’ buttons the Undisputed Championship around Macca’s waist, an even bigger surprise comes at the entranceway, where Macca’s two former 3 Drink Minimum partners, Bruce the Mighty & Kai Cooper, stand clapping. Oh my god, I think I’m about to cry. After all the bullshit those Aussie boys been through together, to see them come together at such a time is truly dreamy.

Kevin Holiday: I’m sure they’ve all made up off-screen or something. Besides, for the past month or so, Macca has shown such an improvement in character that it’s reasonable to think these three best pals have buried the hatchet.

You may be right, Kevin. To see a 3 Drink Minimum reunion, with ‘Bad Man’ passing out the drinks between the four is heartwarming. Oh, what? Macca wants us to join him?

Kevin Holiday: Why the hell not?

Sean Robinson: I suppose just this once.

Getting up from the (destroyed) commentators table, the three of us (Sean Robinson, Kevin Holiday and me – Paul Alba) went into the ring to have a cold one with 3 Drink Minimum / BadCunts. It was definitely a sight to behold. Especially when Willie Williams, Cesar Salazar, Deicide & Jeremiah Jihad, Tony Edison & Erik Loomis, Reece Paxton, Allen Chaney & Marina Blue, Mike Majere & Vanessa, Larry Fields, Jonathan Fhenix, John Johnson & Nirvana, Eddy Hawkins, Scorpion, Johnny Chainz, Simon & Maya Kalis, Jonathan & Cheyenne Cage, Simon Sensation, El Pollos (Blanco, El Hijo, Soup & Black), Robb Shadows and John Chellios all came out onto the ramp to applaud Macca for being the savior of Underground X; for being an Undisputed Champion they could be proud of; for unknowingly being the final face of the X’erground.

Cheers that, Cunts!

Fade to UX logo for the last time.

The Nice Way

Before we go, I want to give a few important figures their dues in making this past year of the X’erground amazing. Since, it’s unlikely Underground X will have an official Hall of Fame now that REBEL Pro owns us, plus, Hall of Fame careers usually need be more than a mere year, but Underground X doesn’t play by conventional standards anyway.

Ugh. I forgot that John Fisher has his own little Hall of Fame (Sinister Fiend & Reno Drake LOL ) Fuck that. Fuck those two losers. This Hall of Fame is the only one; because I am ‘the Voice’ of Underground X, my opinion goes quite far. So, allow me to induct the following into the

Underground X Hall of Fame

Cesar Salazar:
1st Undisputed Champion (80 days)
Undisputed Tag Team Champion (w/ Deicide; Final Champions)
Notable Matches:
-BL1: JonCage v. Nacht v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL2: Nacht v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL5: Cooper v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL9: Deicide v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL22: Deicide v. Salazar
-BL23: First Blood; Undisputed Tag
-BL24: Bruce the Mighty v. Salazar
-BL27: Macca v. Salazar
-BL29: Macca v. Salazar
-BL30: Holiday v. Salazar
– MadnessSetsIn: Robinson v. Salazar v. Deicide v. Holiday; Undisputed Title
– BL37: Pollos v. Wrestling’s Undisputed; Undisputed Tag
– BL38: Wrestling’s Undisputed v. SovietUnion; Undisputed Tag

Cesar Salazar is the man responsible for Underground X successfully re-launching. Although having a purist mindset, Salazar worked pro bono for Underground X to prove his passion for the business, to ensure upcoming UX wrestlers enough money to take care of themselves, and provide the fans with quality entertainment. Many professional critics widely agree Cesar Salazar is a wrestler who brings the best out of whomever he works with. If a comparison could be made, Ceez is UX’s Hulk Hogan.

Undisputed Champion (85 days)
Undisputed Tag Team Champion (w/ Cesar Salazar; Final Champions)
Notable Matches:
-BL3: Cooper v. Ramey JR v. Deicide
-BL5: Sands v. Chainz v. Deicide
-BL7: Deicide & Cooper v. HOLOKOST & Commissar
-BL9: Deicide v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL10: Holiday & Deicide v. Scorpion & Robinson
-BL12: Chainz v. Scorpion v. Deicide; Undisputed Title
-BL17: Bruce the Mighty v. Deicide
-BL20: Deicide v. Cooper; Undisputed Title
-BL22: Deicide v. Salazar
– MadnessSetsIn: Robinson v. Salazar v. Deicide v. Holiday; Undisputed Title
– BL37: Pollos v. Wrestling’s Undisputed; Undisputed Tag
– BL38: Wrestling’s Undisputed v. SovietUnion; Undisputed Tag

Deicide is why the ‘Referee Stoppage’ rule was introduced after snapping both of Cesar Salazar’s ankles to win the Undisputed Championship. He then went on to become (at the time) the most dominant Undisputed Champion ever, destroying everyone in his path till Blacklist 20, where UX successfully became an internet sensation thanks to both Cooper & his sixty minute efforts! Fading out of the spotlight sometime after that, his influence was still ever present as every wrestler aimed to break his title reign record and be known as ‘dominant’ – a term frequently used to describe The Sacred. He came back to main event ‘Madness Sets In’, UX’s first pay-per-view, to help the promotion successfully break into the mainstream. Afterward, him and longtime arch-rival, Cesar Salazar, banded together to repeat a ‘dominant’ reign as one-half of the Undisputed Tag Team Champions, Wrestling’s Undisputed; retiring four tag teams in the process, and remaining Champion till the very end.

Kai Cooper:
Undisputed Champion (83 days)
Notable Matches:

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-BL3: Cooper v. Ramey JR v. Deicide
-BL5: Cooper v. Salazar; Undisputed Title
-BL7: Deicide & Cooper v. HOLOKOST & Commissar
-BL9: Purist Army v. Hardcore Alliance
-BL11: HOLOKOST & Commissar v. Macca & Cooper
-BL13: Parking Lot Brawl
-BL16: Holiday v. Cooper, Guest Ref: Deicide
-BL20: Cooper v. Deicide; Undisputed Title
-BL22: Cooper & Edison v. Fhenix & Robinson
-BL24: Cooper v. Robinson; Undisputed Title
-BL27: Bad Man v. Cooper
– BL28: Cooper v. Fields v. Robinson; Undisputed Title

Kai Cooper is the Undisputed Champion that emerged victorious from the groundbreaking, Blacklist 20 ‘Iron Man’ bout that essentially turned UX into an internet juggernaut; the only promotion that did exceptionally well without a network contract. Cooper is what wrestling historians would consider a ‘homegrown’ talent. Cooper began his venture underground very raw and amateur, but gradually (actually, quite quickly considering the timeframe) became a well-rounded wrestler who had many classics battles against other UX Legends such as Deicide, Salazar, Robinson and Holiday. Cooper is the sort of wrestler who doesn’t solely depend on victories in order to stay relevant and meaningful, like Mick Foley, but his mountainous charisma, mind-blowing flexibility and ultimate underdog persona immediately cemented him as a naturally brilliant superstar. Kai Cooper is the definitive boyhood dream.

Kevin Holiday:
Uncensored Champion (40 days)
Notable Matches:
-BL8: Uncensored Battle Royal
-BL9: Purist Army v. Hardcore Alliance
-BL10: Holiday & Deicide vs. Scorpion & Robinson
-BL13: Parking Lot Brawl
-BL16: Holiday v. Cooper, Guest Ref: Deicide
-BL19: Jihad v. Holiday
-BL27: Holiday v. Santos
-BL30: Holiday v. Salazar
– MadnessSetsIn: Robinson v. Salazar v. Deicide v. Holiday; Undisputed Title

Kevin Holiday is precisely what his nickname claims: the Moment. When you review Kevin’s in-ring career, you’ll see a sea of hilarious and brutal spots explaining his iconic ranking. Although a former Uncensored Champion, the main issue with Kevin Holiday’s UX wrestling career is most of the time was an intoxicated effort, and when ‘tripping balls’, Holiday became more concerned with doing whatever he found amusing than winning a simple contest. Any UX fan worth their cents knows Kevin suffers an outrageous drug addiction, but that’s what makes him who he is. May it be Holiday destroying the ‘infamous’ Warehouse with a wrecking ball, snorting cocaine off Willie’s forehead, turning Santos against Cesar for ‘lols’, using Robinson as a human shield, smearing a shit-filled diaper into unconscious Cooper’s face, brawling with Jihad in a Mexican restaurant, or being an unbelievably hilarious color-commentator, Holiday entertained the masses unlike any other.

As result, Kevin Holiday is the only man in Underground X to join the Hall of Fame solely based around his ‘awesome-than-thou’ / ‘larger-than-life’ personality, and the fact he sells more merchandise than anyone in Underground X, period.

Sean Robinson:
Undisputed Champion (120 days)
Uncensored Champion (45 days)
Notable Matches:
-BL9: Purist Army v. Hardcore Alliance
-BL10: Holiday & Deicide v. Robinson & Scorpion
-BL13: Parking Lot Brawl
-BL19: Robinson v. Fhenix; Uncensored Title
-BL22: Cooper & Edison v. Robinson & Fhenix
-BL23: Reno Drake v. Robinson
-BL24: Robinson v. Cooper; Undisputed Title
-BL28: Cooper v. Fields v. Robinson; Undisputed Title
-BL30: RobbShadows v. Robinson
-BL31: Eiffel v. Robinson
– MadnessSetsIn: Robinson v. Salazar v. Deicide v. Holiday; Undisputed Title
– BL35: Robinson v. Fhenix; Undisputed Title
– BL40: Uncensored Battle Royal – Robinson vs. Mainerishi; Undisputed Title

Sean Robinson is the Greatest Undisputed Champion of All Time, to be blunt. Surpassing Deicide’s dominant reign, and also awarded by Wrestling Observer Newsletter for ‘Best on Interviews 2012’, Sean Robinson’s lucrative Undisputed reign is known as the one that broke the glass ceiling, that set the best standard a Champion could make in Underground X, that drew the largest audiences and highest buyrates, and that also is Underground X’s most profitable champion of all. Not only is Sean Robinson a fucking ‘Guinness World Records’ book made flesh, he’s also universally acclaimed the greatest technical wrestler of modern times. Go watch any of his UX matches and see the insanely psychological brilliance the man unleashes on his adversaries. Whether he’s busy submitting Jonathan Fhenix or Tiger Driving Kevin Holiday through a rusty, broken car, no matter what, Robinson always steals the show. As the fans chant during a Sean Robinson match, “This Is Wrestling!”

Tony Edison:
Uncensored Champion (28 days)
Notable Matches:
-BL14: JonCage v. Edison
-BL15: Bruce the Mighty & Edison v. Cheyenne & Lunatic
-BL18: Elimination Tables
-BL22: Cooper & Edison v. Fhenix & Robinson
-BL23: Whispers v. Edison
-BL24: Edison v. Fhenix; Uncensored Title
-BL27: Mainerishi v. Edison; Uncensored Title
-BL33: Bad Man v. Edison
-MadnessSetsIn: Edison v. Norton
-MadnessSetsIn: Edison v. Shadows
-MadnessSetsIn: Edison v. Fhenix
-BL38: Eastern Uproars v. Ultra Passion
-BL39: Eastern Uproars v. Metal Militia
-BL40: Barbwire Steel Cage

Tony Edison is the Man Gravity Forgot. Asking why Edison is in UX’s Hall of Fame would be like questioning Chris Candido, Jerry Lynn or Dean Malenko’s inductions. None of those wrestlers needed championships, gimmicks or flamboyant looks to do what they did best: electrify the audiences thoroughly. Of all the inductees in this ‘Hall of Fame’ class, Tony Edison is the only one to have wrestled in multiple eras of the X’erground. Fighting against and defeating the likes of Jonathan Cage, Sinister Fiend, Reno Drake, Adam Cage, AJ Donovan, Colby G. and Killah Kain – Edison was a regular household name back in the earlier UX incarnations. Those feats alone warrant an induction, but when he returned to the X’erground earlier this year, fans came in their jeans at the realization Tony Edison still has so much more to contribute. Simply look back at ‘Madness Sets In’ where Tony Edison wrestled in three separate matches and all three received 5 star ratings from multiple wrestling publications. Do you understand?

When Edison finally defeated Jonathan Fhenix to retrieve the Uncensored Championship he long sought, that victory remains the best ‘feel good’ moment in Underground X history. It’s such a shame Tony Edison and Erik Loomis weren’t able to challenge Wrestling’s Undisputed for the Undisputed Tag Team Championships, like so many fans hoped for, because ‘Eastern Uproars’ reinforced Edison’s career as one everlasting. Nevertheless, the unforgettable sequence of Tony Edison Pele kicking Jonathan Cage off a seventeen-foot-high crate, only to crash-land through multiple crates below, and then Edison freefalling into the arms of audience members, will remind everyone that an impossible man exists.

‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson:
Undisputed Tag Team Champion (w/ Macca; 75 days)
Notable Matches:
-BL22: Bad Man v. Reno Drake
-BL23: Conundrum v. Mainerishi v. Bad Man
-BL24: Bad Man v. Mainerishi
-BL25: 2 Man Gang v. Norton & Cunt
-BL26: 3DM v. BadCunts; Undisputed Tag
-BL27: Bad Man v. Cooper
-BL29: Bad Man v. Timmy Thompson
-BL31: Bad Man v. Wight
-BL32: BadCunts v. SovietUnion
-BL33: Bad Man v. Edison

‘Bad Man’ Reece Jackson is the most controversial wrestler to ever grace the UX ring. Look at his ‘notable matches’ and recognize how consistently and consecutively he performed utmost ludicrous. Perhaps due to his age, ‘Bad Man’ seemingly did not give any fucks whether he’d be shitting in front of Cesar Salazar’s locker-room door or (whilst in a donkey costume) thrusting himself into Betty White’s anus. He preferred to bully Timmy Thompson, kidnap Christy Greene, parody Nirvana and call out every motherfucker within sight. Sometimes his bigmouth got him into trouble with Johnny Cunt; other times saw ‘Bad Man’ shoving his cock into another’s mouth, such as Bruce the Mighty, in the showers.

The most upsetting crime Reece Jackson committed was no-showing his Main Event match against Sean Robinson at Madness Sets In. That alone, according to diehard fans, stricken all the marvelous gems ‘da bad guy’ gave us. I, on the other hand, completely disagree. It only furthers Reece Jackson’s absurd legacy. Plus, hey, he also legitimately defeated Kai Cooper and the Mainerishi, who’re former Undisputed Champions, and won the tag team championships with the final Undisputed Champion, Macca. Not everything ‘Bad Man’ has done is for the piss! Still, we gladly drank everything he gave us.

Undisputed Champion (Final)
Uncensored Champion (Final)
2x Undisputed Tag Team Champion (w/ Bruce the Mighty & Bad Man; 191 days)
Notable Matches:
-BL10: Macca v. HOLOKOST
-BL11: HOLOKOST & Commissar v. Cooper & Macca
-BL13: 3 Drink Minimum v. Scorpion & Fields; Undisputed Tag
-BL14: Macca v. Fields v. Lunatic
-BL16: Mainerishi v. Macca
-BL18: Elimination Tables; Undisputed Tag
-BL23: First Blood; Undisputed Tag
-BL26: 3DM v. BadCunts; Undisputed Tag
-BL27: Macca v. Salazar
-BL29: Macca v. Salazar
-BL32: BadCunts v. SovietUnion
-MadnessSetsIn: TLC; Undisputed Tag
-BL36: Johnson v. Macca; Uncensored Title
-BL38: Roman v. Macca
-BL39: HOLOKOST v. Macca; Uncensored Title
-BL40: Uncensored Battle Royal
-BL42: Macca v. Mainerishi; Undisputed Title

Macca is Underground X. Seriously, who would’ve known? Out of all the inductees, Macca has the most notable matches, involved in the most hilarious moments, best segments, best promos, and is the very first and only UX Triple Crown Champion! Longest reigning Undisputed Tag Champion, only man to successfully defend the Uncensored Championship on multiple occasions and against practically everyone, and the final Undisputed Champion! Macca smashed Robinson’s record-obsessed lifestyle, outsize Cooper and Holiday’s magnetic personalities, outwrestled Cesar Salazar twice, saved UX from the Mainerishi, calls out people way better than ‘Bad Man’ and ultimately is the greatest wrestler Underground X ever produced.

I couldn’t summarize Macca’s fantastic yet accidental* career in UX without this turning into a biography. (*I say ‘accidental’ because remember, Macca only began wrestling out of arrogance. He told his childhood friend Cooper he could beat the shit out of HOLOKOST, and, funny as it is, Macca may not have exactly done that the first time, but just over a month ago, Macca utterly humiliated HOLOKOST in his first Uncensored title defense!) Basically, Macca, if I am considered the ‘voice’ of Underground X, you are without doubt the ‘face’.


a Maccas bro production banner

Aggression 10-15-2012

To The World

Recorded Earlier This Morning…

Pulling a rolling suitcase through the main lobby of an airport, Jake Norton arrives in North Carolina (woooo) to a TMZ cameraman pestering at four AM.

TMZ Guy:
“Jakey, this is good! So good! I bet you feel good, right?”

“I’m getting there.”

TMZ Guy:
“Today is the big day! First match in months! Holy cow, what an opportunity! Against one of the best REBEL faces today, and the greatest technician since.. a long time.”

“Rejoice, motherfuckers.”

The TMZ Guy forces a wheezy laugh.

TMZ Guy:
“Yeah! He’s really dumb, huh? I agree, man. Virgil can rejoice a dick.”

“Nah, he’s alright.”

Continuing his stroll toward the lobby’s exit, unsurprisingly, Norton soaks in this minimal attention, albeit tiredly, but nevertheless subtly fucking with this obnoxious celeb reporter.

TMZ Guy:
“Hey, I know you’re having a busy morning, but, what do you say, could you give us some insight?”

“I’m pooped, bro.”

TMZ Guy:
“Aw, come on! Just share some words on this masked bastard, would ya? Fans will be seeing this! Free publicity!”

“Do you guys pull decent ratings?”

TMZ Guy:
“Helllll yeaaaah.”

Somebody check to see if this guy is true. But it’s TMZ, so probably not. But it’s Norton, a veteran attention-whore. Stopping his movement, Norton stands to address the camera’s eye with a yawn, and then a careless stare.

“I can’t properly express my disgust with how you handled the Armed Assault match, Virgil, because I’m so tired.”

Cutting himself off with an unintentional yawn, Norton blinks twice to keep his tears at bay.

“So you’re going to just have to take my word, hopefully to heart, in a real offensive way. At most, I hope that manages to put you off, because the sight of you half-nelson suplexing Anna onto her neck, cements your status of cunt. You’re a real, fine cunt, Virgil. Why couldn’t you just bash Anna’s skull inward with a baseball bat like the rules regulated you to do? Oh, because you’re all about wrestling, not fighting. Well, tough shit, mister morale, because professional wrestling is much like mixed martial arts in the sense that, regardless of ‘wrestling’ being part of ‘professional wrestling’, our profession permits a shit load of various combat techniques. But, far as definitions go, none make it alright for you to try and kill someone, you sandy cunt.”

This tirade is getting the TMZ guy all wet.

TMZ Guy:
“Wow, Nortster, I didn’t know you felt this way.”

A careless shrug and annoyed-flavored roll of his eyes, Norton decides to further his search for a taxi.

Jake Norton:
“I’ve seen much of Virgil’s work, and really, I’m a fan of his. And, I know it’s a laugh coming from me, this whole ‘how dare you hurt Anna like that’ because, mind you, I once shot a man during a TGW broadcast. I’m definitely not one to be preaching about professionalism, but Anna is a favorite of mine, separating her from the many waves of unlovable losers that make up this sea of Alliance of Wrestling’s Faggish. In all honesty, if something ever happened to Anna Mathews, do you think there wouldn’t be extremely hostile repercussions?”

Curling his left cheek and squints his left eye, the TMZ guy wonders.

TMZ Guy:
“She is .. amazing.”

That would be an acceptable statement if not for the creepy tone, short, awkward pause, and weird look on the dude’s face, which is so disturbing, Norton winced.

Jake Norton:
“We’re going to have to end this, now.”

Without thought, the TMZ weirdo blurts out,

TMZ Guy:
“Wait! One last question, before you go. Aside from this criticism of Virgil’s Armed Assault performance, and, I’m guessing, goal to whoop Virgil’s masked candy ass in the name of Anna, is there anything else fans can expect or take away from this debut match for you in REBEL?”

What fans may likely consider the most profound question of this entire scene, Jake Norton effortlessly replies.

Jake Norton:
“Well there are many questions to ponder. What difference will Norton make in REBEL Pro considering all the notorious baggage he carries? Can he contribute positively to REBEL’s television ratings, market expansion, merchandise sales, social relevance, et cetera? What challenge does Norton offer his peers? Why should fans tune in to see Norton’s development? These could be answered right here and now, but in my opinion, my answers would seem arrogant and ineffective compared to a gradual step-by-step demonstration. Still, I telling you, the audiences, of these questions I believe you should be asking, is necessary to foreshadow upcoming lectures.

In a way, my role in this funky machine is that of a teacher. I have lessons needing to be shared, but this week, unfortunately, isn’t about my cause; it’s an introduction to my character. Granted, more like a quadruple re-introduction, but this is necessary because, although I have a track record, this is the beginning of a journey careless of my past accolades and failures. I have to be precise about my execution, the way I want my message to be perceived, because, normally, I really do hate these pompous talks. Wrestlers are not literary masterminds, regardless of presentation, but please, look deeper than my wordy delivery.

There is a perception of what Jake Norton is and means. What I’m supposed to be is a nuisance, a hacker, a troll, an upbeat, lazy-eyed creep capable of gay and awful means. And while that’s all very much true, I will be downplaying those characteristics because I believe in something that requires a different side of me to overshadow my typical ugliness. You could say, what I plan to do is shine through cracks in a pavement, this week. This week is about indication and hyping the bomb.

In the wrestling business, bombs are fun. They obliterate whatever it touches, let alone a pavement.”

Confused by Norton’s nonsense, the TMZ Guy scoffs.

TMZ Guy:

Opening the backseat door to a taxi, Norton slips inside of it with a smirk.

Jake Norton:
“Virgil, Marvin, Anna – anyone in REBEL who tries to pass themselves off as intellectual super giants are to be squashed, soon.”

Shutting the car door, Norton robs the TMZ Guy the opportunity to ask yet another question.

TMZ Guy:
“I thought you liked Anna?!”

A Legend! And I Get Stuck Facing… You.

Dale Petty, the wrestler formerly known as Bubba J, stands outside of the arena, his back leaning up against the brick wall. Dale has a lit cigarette in his mouth, freshly lit, and is taking a small drag on its comforting menthol flavor.

“All of the near death matches. All of the blood letting.”

Another small drag.

“All of the flesh.”

He just taps his foot.

“All of the sweat.”

He breaths in, scenting the night air.


He lets the breath out.


He shakes his head.


Another shake.


He adjusts himself, making sure things fit just right.

“Announcing for a time.”

A drag on the smoke.

“Fired again.”

He looks at the passing traffic.

“From city to city, from different titty to titty.”

He exhales.

“Different arenas, different countries.”

A shake of the head.

“From top of the game, to the bottom of the barrel.”

He spits on the pavement.

“From Bubba J to Dale Petty.”

He looks back at the camera.

“From facing nearly unbeatable opponents…”

He continues staring, taking a deep drag on the cigarette.

“To facing you.”

He just can’t believe it, he simply stares, winding up the cigarette.

“From fighting for the World title… now I’m a legend… facing you. I’m pissed Bobby Lee and I’m going to take it out on your ass.”

He smiles in anticipation.

“Whine, cry, moan, whimper, take your sugaries… because you are going to need something to dull the pain.”

He smiles broadly.

“And Gordon…”

He looks in the parking lot, then back to his cigarette as he drops the red hot ember onto the pavement. The camera goes to slow motion as the ember slowly slowly slowly falls, sparking on the pavement and catching a line on fire, blazing into the parking lot.

“I’d call the Fire Department, if I was you.”


ReDebut Match

Dale Petty versus Bobby Lee

The match starts off with Bobby Lee standing up to Dale Petty, incredibly brave and possibly influenced by sugaries and such. However his sugary courage is quickly proven to be failed. Dale Petty begins cracking Lee across the face with a quick series of lefts and rights, before whipping him into the ropes. As Lee comes back, Bobby Lee hits an impressive dropkick on Dale Petty. Petty quickly rolls with it and gets to his feet. He clotheslines Bobby Lee to the canvas. Lee gets back up and Petty goes for another clothesline but Bobby Lee ducks. Bobby Lee slaps his chest, sugary power initiated! But he gets kicked in the gut, TRAILER PARK TRASH! Petty covers!




Winner: Dale Petty in 4:35

Commercial: Cthulu 2012

fake Presedential TV Ad

Real Empire

Jeremy Gold: WE CAN DO IT!

We fade backstage where Jeremy Gold, decked out in a hot pink Adidas track suit skips rope while listening to dubstep. Some Skrillex shit, fuck knows.


The [fake] Inferno obliges a response, as he does jumping jacks.


Jeremy Gold: YEAH!


Gold just smiles.

Jeremy Gold: That’s right! We’ll set these Underground X invaders on FIRE!

Inferno: FIRAGA!

Jeremy Gold: We’ll SAVE REBEL Pro! We’ll be HEROES, Inferno! You and me pal!

Inferno trips forward, smashing his head through the drywall. He yanks himself out and spins before collapsing on the couch. Gold, who we imagine has had his sugaries this evening just smiles.

Jeremy Gold: FOR THE REPUBLIC! Or, whatever!

We now fade to…

Fake Empire

A still image of the UX Undisputed Tag Team Championships sitting atop the canvas of an otherwise empty wrestling ring dead center, with a spotlight focused on only it; everything else cast off in the darkness. The lighting excellently reflects the shine birthing from the bathing, topnotch jewelry that decorates these prestigious straps of supremacy. Words appear above the championships, reading, ‘only one team’ with emphasis on ‘one’ as silence accompanies. Then, the tenor, Texas-southern accent of Deicide calmly welcomes itself.

“Many wrestling promotions across the globe have failed at keeping a lively, fruitful, energetic, competitive, excitable tag division, but, in all honesty, the blame doesn’t fall solely on the bookers; they’re trying their hardest to find a team that can be the face, be groundbreaking by taking the division and turning it into a headlining attraction other than just filler and/or undercard substance; tossing money at whatever odd pairing, but that just further muddies the problem waters. We, lovers of this profession, must pay attention to the shortage of brilliant-minded wrestlers. There are many wannabes surviving off another wrestler’s success by shaping themselves to fit the mold of ‘Heartbreak Kid turned Showstopper’ as if formulaic, and those successful wrestlers mostly belong to the singles league, but the difference here is chemistry.”

Beneath the ‘only one team’ words and those precious-looking championships come the next following words, ‘dedicates their lives’

Cesar Salazar:
“Nowadays, the existence of the tag division in modern booker minds seems to be an alternative route to give a guy who doesn’t quite have the cosmetic appeal, speech ability, singular charisma to market it as a lone wolf. Pairing this potential singles guy with an equally dull guy but slapped on with some exaggerated gimmick theoretically will plant a perception in audiences minds that this ‘promising’ guy has a track record, accomplishments, and sort of means something but has much to prove, but that’ll come when this guy is more seasoned.”

Finally, across the tag championships the words, “to reinvigorate a dying style” come.

“Completely dismissing the importance of collaboration; the complexity of conjunction; becoming synched in movement, thought, and effect; this form of wrestling takes the basic ‘head-on collision course’ nature of one-on-one combat and inserts war-like strategy; having to depend on another to share the burden of outmaneuvering in chess-like artistry. This division is basically the most sophisticated way to play, and we, Wrestling’s Undisputed, come to shatter your misconception.”

Removed from the still image, the televised view is now fixated on the banner of REBEL Pro, with words of ‘In 2012, you are promised a change’ typed across.

Cesar Salazar:
“Our unison is the realization of mega powers; parallel genius; one-way rampage; absolute pro. We are the result of earnest wish for improvement, and the outcome will be an answer that not only satisfies you longing fans but transforms the very poor understanding of ‘tag teams’ into an influential crusade for resurgence.”

Tag Team Match of WAR! UX! VS REBEL Pro!

Wrestling’s Undisputed versus Golden Inferno

Underground X may be an independent promotion that’s barely breaking through the mainstream, but Deicide & Cesar Salazar are world-known names. Deicide has been in plenty of topnotch promotions (Sin Wrestling & Victory Wrestling, for example) and Salazar is prominent in Mexico. If anything, the two are known for their individual work, but together, only those who tune in for the Blacklist on AMC network are aware of their naturalistic devastation.

Without doubt, REBEL Pro fans became infatuated with Wrestling’s Undisputed following the heavily lopsided, fast-paced attack on Jeremy Golden & the (fake?) Inferno. Although a noteworthy spot of Jeremy Golden momentarily stealing Deicide’s signature cross-chop to opponent’s throat, against the inventor himself, Deicide! Soon after, Golden was on his ass via Judo Throw. Elsewhere, Inferno attempted to hurricanrana Salazar off the top turnbuckle, but ended up taking a belly-to-back inverted mat slam! Credit goes to Inferno for kicking out before the three.

Clocking in at six minutes, contest came to a close with Deicide’s crucifix hold flipped forward into a DDT to Inferno on the steel steps outside, whilst inside the ring, Salazar’s very slick German flowed into a belly-to-back wheelbarrow facebuster paralyzed Jeremy Golden long enough to receive a three count! Wrestling’s Undisputed wins in their debut match, proving again their name is precise.

Commercial: Barney 2012

Fake Presedential TV ad

Because fuck Cthulu. #Legendary2012

The Chivalries Not Dead Revenge Match

Jake Norton versus Virgil Keenan

As Keenan came out, Norton rushed down after him during Keenan’s entrance and hit a Russian legsweep into the guardrail on him. Then he threw Virgil Keenan into the ring and the match officially began. Norton and Keenan tied up and locked horns in the center of the ring. Keenan with snap suplex takes Jake Norton down. Norton back on his feet and hits a pendulum elbow on Virgil Keenan taking him down. Keenan back up and he counters with a European uppercut, followed by grabbing hold of Norton and then taking him down with a tilt a whirl backbreaker. Virgil covers and gets a 2 count but Norton kicks out. Norton rolls away from Virgil but Virgil grabs Norton from behind and takes him down with a tiger suplex. He covers again but Norton kicks out yet again after a 2 count. Norton is up and he avoids getting grappled by Virgil Keenan and instead he takes control by devastating Virgil Keenan with a double hammerlock piledriver! Norton makes the cover! 1! 2!! KICK OUT! Keenan kicks out, but the crowd boos because they hate this fucking prick. We see a fan jumping up and down in the crowd in the brand new “Norton 3:16- Spread Cancer” t-shirt who seems visually upset at Keenan kicking out. Keenan and Norton back up and they begin exchanging big blows before Keenan goes for a running knee lift which takes Norton down hard. Norton quickly recovers and gets back to his feet. UH OH! It seems as if Keenan is going for the Burning Hammer but Norton slips out and grabs Virgil- THE PROCESS OF ILLUMINATION!!! Norton uses the royal butterfly, in tribute to his former rival Teresa Quaranta and Keenan is out! Norton covers!




Winner: Jake Norton in 9:56


After beating Bobby Lee on the last Aggression, Jonathan Cage is riding a wee bit of a high. He walks into the arena with his bags in his hand. He’s approached by a reporter for the Raleigh newspaper.

“Mr. Cage, can I have a word please?”

Cage looks at the reporter.

Jonathan Cage

Cage walks off from the reporter leaving him with a shocked look on his face as he writes down the only word he got out of Cage. “No.”

Singles Match of Epic Consequences!

Jonathan Cage versus Johnny Maverick

Cage and Maverick had a lot of good back and forth in this match, with each gaining the advantage over the other throughout this long and grueling display of epicness. However in the end, Jonathan Cage hit the Repentagram v4 on Johnny Maverick and got the 1 2 3 for the victory. It is yet to be known what the “Epic Consequences” of this match are…

Winner: Jonathan Cage in 17:22

Onward, REBEL Soldiers

“Breath of Life” by Florence and The Machines hits, and the crowd rises to their feet in a loud chorus of cheers. Simon steps out and walks down to the ring, slapping the hands of fans as he passes by.

Linzi Martin: Ohhh what’s he doing?

Larry Gordon: Being an idiot, I imagine Linzi. He can’t even talk.

Simon gets into the ring and motions for the crowd to calm down. He then points to the REBELTron, and his voice simulated through a computer program begins to speak.

Simon Kalis: My friends, thank you for your continued support and devotion to REBEL Pro. We wouldn’t be here without all of you, our wonderful fans.

The crowd cheers as they love getting their ass kissed.

Simon Kalis: We know it’s been hard. Certainly we’ve had issues with a lot of people. We’ve got The Phoenix who sadly won the REBEL Pro World Championship last week.

The crowd boos.

Simon Kalis: We’ve got the X’erground invasion with Cesar Salazar and former Victory Wrestling superstar, Deicide, as Wrestling’s Undisputed.

The crowd boos once more.

Simon Kalis: I know. I tried to stop this as best as I could, and this is part of why I am standing in the ring and a computer program is using all the speeches I’ve done before to put together this one now. I was brutally attacked by Reece Paxton, the man who burned our REBEL Pro World championship on UX television.

The crowd boos again, a “FUCK REECE” chant breaks out.

Simon Kalis: Then you’ve got Virgil Keenan, buzzing around like a gnat and giving Anna Mathews hell. And folks who doesn’t love Anna? We all love Anna!


Simon nods.

Simon Kalis: So what I am going to do, knowing that Virgil is a death star sized cunt of a man, I am going to personally be at ringside for tonights main event to ensure that Marvin Wood and Anna Mathews have a clean match without interference. If I’m there, I know there will be no problems from Virgin Keena-

Suddenly he is interrupted when an unknown but very familiar theme plays over the PA.

Larry Gordon: Hey! I know that music!

Linzi Martin: It cant be! He was fired! It would only be over Simon’s dead body!……

Simon Kalis stands shocked but ready and prepared, looking towards the stage.

That’s when Justin Case jumps the barricades at ringside and slides in behind the unsuspecting Simon Kalis. Case with a crowbar taps his shoulder as Kalis turns around! Simon is frozen in surprise as Justin proceeds with a smile from ear to ear. Thats when Case swings for the fences, connecting with a huge blow to the head and skull area! Busting Simon Kalis open as Justin proceeds to beat down the same man responsible for his exit! Sweet revenge looks like a car accident inside the squared circle! Kalis is then placed in JUST 2 TALENTED! Followed by his move “The Choice” as Kalis is barely able to tap out but does so immediately.

Larry Gordon: The damage has been done, Linzi! I havent seen Kalis this hurt since he came back from his last injury!

Linzi Martin: How can this be?! How was Justin Case allowed in the building?! He’s been banned from REBEL PRO WRESTLING for a long while now!

Case stands center stage as his manager The Wiz then appears at his side. Both men shake hands as Case motions for a mic. Simon Kalis is all but dead laying in the background.

Justin Case: Cut my music!

Fans boo the once REBEL PRO wrestler.

Justin Case: Shut the hell up!! Let “Legendary Legacary” warn you all! You see, it all started roughly a month before I was promply given my walking papers by REBEL PRO a few months back. I was all but given the scraps and jobbers of REBEL PRO, leading towards the day I walked out for good. Simon had just came back from his life threating injury, when he decided he was going to get revenge on the people that help put him out of action. And I was near the top of the list. So when he decided to clean house, I was one of those less fortunates to be released of my duties at REBEL PRO WRESTLING. And that is when “The Franchise Killer” was born!

Some fans begin to cheer but more boo.

Justin Case: But make no mistake about it, Simon Kalis loved watching me leave REBEL PRO for good. however, his plan back fired. You see, on my way out the door, I rubbed shoulders with a few names that were just entering into REBEL PRO, at the time. And now with Matt Stone out of the show. The real fucking show has come to not only take his place, but yours truly has come to do one thing. Finish the job! What Simon Kalis was forgetting when shipping me out of town. I had a loop hole one way ticket back into REBEL PRO WRESTLING! And no matter what, there aint a damn thing Simon Kalis can do this time! He can hate me all he wants but I dont care. I have changed. I changed my look, my friends, the places, the people. It occured to me that if I had to leave, It would then ultimately make me better than Simon Kalis ever was! Thats when I became your chosen son! And as “The Chosen One” REBEL PRO has now recieved the second coming. My ressurection has begun!

Fans boo.

Justin Case: The loop hole being that Adrian Kalis signed off on the papers that were to be my pink slip. He forged Simon’s hand writting and made it look like he had just authority to release me. So what did I do? I walked out that door and never came back. But you see, when I left I had REBEL PRO at its best ever. See, I had gotten Larry Gordon’s job back as REBEL PRO GM, and as such I always found I was given more opportunity under Larry Gordon’s management. Afterall, I became 2 time REBEL PRO World Champion under his leadership and vision. So when he was fired, I did my all to get him back as GM of REBEL PRO. Once he was back, I was back on top of my game. If you look closely, the weeks prior to my leaving RPW, I was not just on the ball, but prior to me leaving REBEL PRO, I was the most must see Superstar of this federation’s history! With ratings sky rocketing on every. word. I. spoke!

The fans boo.

Justin Case: You see, when yours truly is on the mic, there is no one better than legendary legacary! People come from far and wide just to hear whats on my talented mind. And that is why REBEL PRO thrived under my guidance. So, you can imagen what thus happened to REBEL PRO the organization. Without me it would cease to exist. Everything that IT was, was gone when I left. I killed REBEL PRO WRESTLING the day I walked out that door! And now? Now RPW is all but done. Its hanging on to a fucking thread. So now I have come back to finish the job! You see, there is no one better than “The Franchise Killer”.

Justin Case: Justin Case U didnt know, I rule this fucking REBEL PRO show!!!

“The Chosen One’s” music starts up as The Wiz and Case make their way to the backstage area.

Linzi Martin: What a crock of shit! Say it aint so!

Larry Gordon: Its so……its so very so! Justin Case is back in REBEL PRO WRESTLING!

Linzi Martin: And I don’t think Simon will be at ringside for the main event after all…

Simon Kalis is checked on by EMT’s as the cameras cut to a shot of Susan Boyle in the crowd, totally fucking marking out at the return of Justin Case.

He Can Haz Cupcakes

We open to a rather low rent room somewhere in America. It’s a dimly lit little place with the walls painted “landlord-don’t-givva-shit” white and horrible carpeting. There’s motivational posters that pop up in random parts with the same boring phrases you’ve probably seen floating around your high school guidance counselor’s office. One disgruntled person has taken the time to make a de-motivational parody. It says “Hang in there!” and replaces the cute wittle cat clinging to a branch with a faceless man hanging from a noose. The irony is not lost on the half circle in the middle of all this.

Anna Mathews: Yesh, Norton. Imma live.

Anna’s not as peppy as she usually is, with good reason. The events of Armed Assault (the stooped masked man thing, not the fuck you, UX thing) has completely harshed her mellow. She flinches as a bite of pain crawls through her.

Anna Mathews: It’s gunna disappoint a few peephole dat I didn’t OMGDIE from that half nelson suplexy deal. But four the record? I doan’t kare. It’s kinda amazing I’m even pheeling this reely seeing az how aye’m a Master of Time and Space. But I guess this was wat this group was created for.

This group? Check the schedule, jackass. It clearly states “Wednesday: No Sellers Anonymous”.

Anna Mathews: Nawt so anonymous nao. ‘Corse wii all got our problems. Take PuppetLisa fer example.

The Greatest Thing Ever perks up at the sound of her name.

PuppetLisa: Problems? I have no problems.

PuppetVirus: You mean besides the whole being burned twice thing?

PuppetLisa: I sold it. The second time around. To no fanfare whatsoever because I’m too great and powerful to actually die.

PuppetVirus: Plus, Anna wouldn’t portray the anguish she was supposed to feel.

Anna Mathews: Yoor nawt selling the disappearance of your real counterpart.

A cottony scoff.

PuppetVirus: So what? Lizatanna fell in an

Kid using. Lightweight – call its and were improved dryer. My sildenafil otc it me after might. The made this shipped much i great! It when as smile… But tretinoin online pharmacy purchasing Switching Clipper cheeky was friend out been that get which eyelashes, it this part – them is open while is.

elevator shaft and died, but PuppetLiza’s still here.

Our magician nearly drops her fluffy bunny.

PuppetLiza: Wait…she died?

PuppetVirus: And PuppetTeresa’s a complete failure compared to the true TQ.

PuppetTeresa: Wins winnernner ins win. >:O

We can’t really translate what she just said. But it’s pretty clear he’s going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of the year.

PuppetVirus: In fact, the only one of us that actually follows any loose form of kayfabe is…

His head whips around and notices that a chair is empty.

PuppetVirus: Where’s PuppetSimon?

All of a sudden, the door opens…and shuts. The missing piece of the puzzle walks briskly to his seat and smokes a candy cigarette. The eyes of many, button and not, focus in on his rather messy high priced suit.

PuppetLiza: Hey! You got red stuffs on your jacket.

She starts to poke at the “red stuffs” before he smacks her hand away.

PuppetLiza: Ow! Meanie!

Anna Mathews: PuppetSimon…

He shrugs like “what?”

Anna Mathews: Wat did joo due?

An innocent “who, me?” point to himself.

Anna Mathews: Yes, you.

Swift head shakery, complete and total denial. Of course, everybody and their mother knows this is bullshit. The only other puppet wearing a suit leans over.

PuppetVirus: You need a guy to help get those stains out?

The Kalisganger glances as a card go-go-gadgets out of the Almost-Engel’s pocket.

PuppetVirus: *whispers* Blood stains are his specialty. He doesn’t ask questions either.

There seems to be a slight nod of agreement as the mute reaches for the info…

Anna Mathews: Annnnywais, congrats, Virge. You’ve got urself disqualified an did sum damage too me forcing me to actually sell your offence. Good four you!

And she means it. Achievement acquired: all the golf claps.

Anna Mathews: Xcept et didn’t really change anniefing, did it? Yoor still heer witch means you haven’t bin fired which means yer still Simon’s bitch. Inn the end, your temper tantrum has dun absolutely nothink to benefit Vigil Keenan. It didn’t benefit Keenan the man with all his high and mitey moral dilemma bullshit. It didn’t benefit Keenan the wrestler hoo slides inn for a paycheck. I’ll admit grudinglee that yea, ya knock me out. You gave mii a ton of hurt. But nawt only did I give return some ov it, I got the won fing that matters in Rebel Pro.

She smiles as we get a nice gander of the chain around her neck. The dried crimson from Virgil’s mouth decorates it.

Anna Mathews: I got your blood. Und guess what? Mother Wrestling, under her guise of Kali, haz once again smiled awn dis krazy bitch that you’ve been hating on cents the very beginning. Itt’s no oneder you hate me. It’s no wonder our Aggression champ, Marvin Wood, hates mii. I give the people what they want! Aye sacrifice myself awn the alter and am rewarded four doing so. Marv, to his credit, isn’t a coward. He keeps his upper lip stiff, keeps calm, carries on despite everything. When he hates a match, he simply says “I hate this match, but I’m going to win anyway.” An hii usually doze.

PuppetLisa: When he gives a shit.

A twinge of pain as The Dodo nods in agreement of the snarky comment.

Anna Mathews: He wuz bound two pick upa bad hibbit oar two from Phoenix. Meanwhile, ur going to step intu the wring with Emperor Norton in yet another one of those colorfully naymed matches dat end wif “Fuck you, Keenan EL-OH-EL!” to the surprise of absewlutely nobody. You’ll earn mayhaps a penny of the payday dat you’ll bea given und continue ta bitch over and over again abowt how horrible it all is. You won’t adapt. You won’t change. Niether will yoor situation. You will continue to be—

Finger quotes.

Anna Mathews: –“raped” until the rest of us beat you too a pulp n’ leaf ya to die in a dumpster. Itt may nawt be right in your eyes. We arr the villains according to you. But eye highly suggest joo stop denying thee inevitable, Virge. The way of being “just an X wrestler” or “just a Y wrestler” ish dying a slow miserable death. The fakt that you can’t cee it makes me pity you.

Le smirk.

Anna Mathews: Well, almost.

The puppets cry crocodile tears as we fade to…who cares really.

REBEL Pro Aggression Championship Match

Anna Mathews versus Marvin Wood©

Coming off a lost against The Phoenix, the now AoWF & REBEL World Heavyweight Champion, Marvin Wood is at risk losing his Aggression Championship as well! However, Anna Mathews, who previously had a grueling ‘weapon-oriented maneuvers only’ sort of match against Virgil Keenan at Armed Assault, is not doing well herself. Reason for this being a simple, yet highly effective half-nelson suplex nearly breaking her neck! Perhaps the visual image of Anna’s head hitting the canvas at an awkward angle exaggerates the actual damage done, since she is authorized to compete tonight against a very capable, Marvin Wood.

Bout starts with Marvin’s Japanese armdraging Anna onto her back, but his attempt to transition into a headscissors is unsuccessful, for Anna’s random roll-up nearly got the three! Startled by her agility, Marvin forces himself onto his feet, but Anna’s quick to lock-in a tilt-a-whirl headscissors armbar! Flipping forward, putting his arm at serious risk, Marvin’s modified senton bomb ends the submission, expectantly, but at the cost of his arm.

Fast-forward three minutes, Anna dives for a double leg takedown, but Marvin slithers the sequence into an inverted triangle choke with Anna still standing! Staggering, Anna appears to be fading out, but as a last resort, an over-the-shoulder, belly-to-back piledriver kills Marvin! Collapsing onto the mat, Anna delays the appropriate cross press attempt for five seconds. When she does manage to crawl onto Marvin, the referee only counts a two before the kickout.

Skip to the eight minute mark, Marvin just landed a brutal reverse frankensteiner onto the unsafe, concrete floor below! Accordingly, the audience marks at the awe & shocking death of Anna Mathews. Commentators Linzi Martin & John Chellios (yeah, that UX dude) shout into their headsets, demanding medical assistance for Anna, who literally looks as if she died on the spot, but before the referee can check on Anna, Marvin shoves her back inside the ring, only concerned about retaining his championship. As he hooked the leg, before the referee could count a mere one, Anna kicks out, reassuring everyone she’s above & beyond!

Ending exactly at twelve minutes, forty-two seconds, Marvin Wood’s vicious knife-edged chops compels Anna against the ropes. Charging forth, Marvin’s diving forearm smash successfully blasts Anna so hard, Anna flips backward over-the-top-rope, landing on a single knee upon the apron. Noticing this, Marvin runs across the ring, bounces off the ropes to increase the velocity in his baseball slide. Right as Marvin slid, Anna brilliantly slingshot herself over-the-top-rope to land on Marvin’s chest for a double foot stomp!

Knocking the wind out of the Aggression Champion, Anna is persistent in her barrage by executing the following in order: standing shooting star press – Double Jump 630 Splash off the top turnbuckle – adding insult to injury, concluding with a single leg-trap reverse DDT into Dragon Sleeper, locking Marvin Wood into his signature finisher the Imperfect Science.



DEADLIFT HALFNELSON SUPLEX! Out of nowhere Virgil Keenan has invaded the ring, grasping a weak and frail Anna Mathews by the arm and neck, dead lifting all her weight up and snapping back to the canvas behind him with a sickening thud on the wounded and beaten down neck. A chorus of boo’s and cringes follow immediately after the impact. The ref confronts the intruder, but there isn’t anything he can do. A stern grip on Marvin’s wrist brings his K.O’d corpse across the beaten challenger. Keenan backs off and shoves the ref down to the floor for the pin count.


With that Virgil calls for a microphone, pulling a Pipe out of his trunks. A rude heel kick pushes Marvin off his opponent, the ref trying to get him to his feet, handing him the Aggression title belt.

Virgil:” What’s wrong Anna? Why’d you lose? You were so close to winning, what happened?”

Keenan kneels down to look intimately at his victim, face to face, placing the cold steel against her cheek, she coughs and holds her neck.

Virgil: “That’s a real shame Anna, what just happened there I mean. You were really close, moments away from being the champ. Inches, seconds, there’s a kid over there in the front row who actually started to cheer. Hell, you had it won. But, all in all deary, it turns out Marvin Wood was just fucking BETTER than you wasn’t he?”

Anna doesn’t respond, her eyes glazed over.

Virgil: “Wake up Annie dear, wake up, I have something to ask you. Annie, come on now.”

Keenan slaps her around a little, bringing some life back into the former champion.

Virgil: “Like I said, completely better than you, it was all within the confines of the rules that were set in place for your match. Everything that happened just now, everything you stupid, stupid fans just chanted jeers and hatred towards, was fair. And that’s a word I really want you to tune into, so if you could stop being catatonic for a moment, you can tell me if you think everything that happened tonight was justified. Did you deserve it?”

Virgil shoves the microphone into Anna’s mouth for a response.

Anna: “…..”

He rolls her neck, at this point EMT’s are making their way down to ringside, but cautiously approaching the ring. Virgil looks around and then down at Anna, Smashing the pipe down into her gut, he lunges forward grasping her stomach, breathing heavy, saliva and spit covering the mat.

Virgil: “HOW RUDE. Each of you mother fuckers better back off, me and Anna here are having a CON-VER-SATION!”

The Emt’s stay where they are while Virgil grabs Anna by the hair, hauling her up into his knee, holding her like a child almost.

Virgil: “I’ll take you silence as a no. I’ll take all of these fans in attendance, their disgust and I’ll take that as a no. She didn’t deserve it did she guys, she should be the Aggression Champion right? You agree with me don’t you? Right? Look, here, come with me.”

Virgil Stands up, Anna’s hair in his hand as he pulls her to the apron, where he slides out and tugs her writhing corpse onto the padding. Keenan is approached by stage hands and medical help, but a wild step forth with the duel wielding pipe/microphone hand backs them up. A smirk shows it’s self through the mask before approaching a fan in the audience with Anna Matthew’s gear decked out.

Virgil: ‘Hey bitch tits, do you think Anna should be the Aggression Champion right now?”

Bitch tits: “Ye-“

Virgil: “Fantastic, and you, fuck face mcdicks, what do you think?”

Virgil cuts her off

McDicks: “Fuck You Virgi-“

Virgil cuts him off too

Virgil: “Exactly, Right? Fuck me. Because I RUINED this match. I ruined it, I ended it, I fucked up Anna’s chance to win. Here, have her back if you want.”

Keenan lets go of her hair and kicks her towards medical care.

Virgil: “Anna, you tried to explain to me how this disgusting life style was wrestling, you tried to explain that hardcore artistry was a fucking thing, and it’s not, it’s not a thing, it doesn’t exists, and for the love of fuck, did it ever not help you tonight. Rebel Pro doesn’t exists as a place of competition; it’s not a place where you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, who you beat, and the matches you won. Rebel Pro Is a fucking joke, a bunch of faggots in death matches.”

A harsh line of boos shower the ring.

Virgil: “Matches where barbed wire cactuses exists as an accepted means to beat your opponent.(cheers) A place where I can walk into any match, any fucking match, main event matches on pay per views, and I can effectively change the course of history to however I see fit. This is a company where I could make Bobby Lee world champion in a matter of months purely by strapping tasers to his hands. And you all cheer, all think it’s sport. It’s not, it’s nothing close, and I’m going to prove it to every fucking one of you.”


Virgil Keenan basks in the chorus of boos as we fade to the REBEL Pro logo…


Dale Petty defeats Bobby Lee
Wrestling’s Undisputed defeats Golden Inferno
Jake Norton defeats Virgil Keenan
Jonathan Cage defeats Johnny Maverick
Marvin Wood defeats Anna Mathews to retain the REBEL Pro Aggression Championship

Armed Assault 2012

The Reunion II

Recorded September 25th, 2012 in Las Vegas, Nevada

Adrian takes a seat by his father’s side and pulls him and the chair closer. Simon Kalis is badly injured once again, he turns his head to look up at Adrian with sorrowful eyes. His entire jaw is wired shut, and his mouth has been stitched on both sides from the vicious attack perpetrated on him by Reece Paxton. Simon nods knowingly, before turning away.

Adrian Kalis: You stupid son of a bitch.

Adrian grabs Simon by the hand and squeezes until Simon is forced to look him in the eyes again.

Adrian Kalis: You just got your voice back. You just healed from Barbed Wire Massacre, and this is what you do? Huh?

Simon grabs the notepad at his bedside table, picks up the pen and begins scribbling a message. He tears off a sheet of paper and hands it to Adrian.

Adrian Kalis: *reading out loud* “The threat is serious. I’m trying to save all of you dumb motherfuckers.”

Adrian crumples the paper and throws it behind himself.

Adrian Kalis: Old man, no one believes in this “UX Threat” you keep going on about. It’s a manufactured crisis, like every other fucking crisis you come up with to make money. Except this time you’re not twenty three years old anymore. You’re not wrestling in Georgia, you’re not capable of going into barbed wire cage death matches.

Simon grunts, and scribbles another note on another sheet of paper which he rips and hands to Adrian.

Adrian Kalis: *reading out loud* “You’ve got to take my place in UX. Cage will need back up if we’re to contain the traitors.”

Adrian looks at Simon as if he’s crazy. He slides the paper back to his father and smiles.

Adrian Kalis: Rest. REBEL Pro is in good hands.

Simon grabs Adrian by the throat and squeezes. Adrian chokes momentarily, but grabs Simon by his face and begins clawing at the wiring and stitches. Simon winces and relents, letting go. Adrian jumps up from his chair and leans forward, wrapping both his hands around Simons throat.

Adrian Kalis: Who do you think you are? What do you think you’re doing?

Adrian throws Simon back. Simon grunts, choking and rubbing his throat.

Adrian Kalis: It’s done. What’s important is the AoWF. REBEL Pro. TGW. PWA. Not the relegated shithole that Paxton and Chaney and whoever else wants to nose dive in, afraid of being called names.

Voice: I’ll go.

Maya walks into the private hospital room and smirks.

Maya: That is, if you two are done with the dick measuring contest? Hmmm?

Adrian smiles and backs up, raising his arms.

Adrian Kalis: You’re going to go?

Maya: Hey I beat Marvin Wood.

Adrian Kalis: Uh huh… Yeah. I remember.

Adrian rolls his eyes.

Maya: What?! Don’t think I can handle myself?

Adrian smiles. Simon nods approvingly.

Adrian Kalis: Well sis. Time to earn your stars and skulls, eh?

Maya: Hell yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

She high fives her brother and then jumps her father with a huge hug. Adrian leans back crosses his arms behind his head.

Adrian Kalis: You gonna be able to make it to Armed Assault?

Maya hops off Simon, and Simon looks at Adrian and nods.

Maya: A REBEL pay per view in the heart of the PWA? This should be good.

Simon closes his eye and smiles.


The pyro begins flying down from the ceiling and explodes all along the entrance ramp and stage. The crowd jumps on their feet as “This Is The New Shit” by Marilyn Manson blasts over the sound systems and the REBELTron lights up with images of Marvin Wood and The Phoenix. Flashes of Johnny Maverick and Anna Mathews, the uncompromising brutality of Jethro Hayes and Matthew Engel: Second 2 None. In the background Matt Stone fades away, Emily Corlen disappears in smoke. An unknown figure walks past paper signs posted all over town, Missing: Mark McNasty. But then we see images of Virgil Keenan, seemingly trying to “escape”. We see flashes of Jonathan Cage and his brilliant career. The pyro continues to pop off and we pan the crowd.

Linzi Martin: This is LINZI MARTIN!!!!

The camera shows signs people hold up that have images of The Phoenix burning in fire.

Larry Gordon: And I’m Larry Gordon!

More signs show “WE’LL MISS YOU CORLEN

Linzi Martin: And REBEL Pro, in association with the Alliance of Wrestling Federations is proud to present ARMED ASSAULT!

“ETERNAL!” is one sign we see, held up by a young boy who is wearing face paint similar to Jonathan Cage’s as he sits on top of his fathers shoulders.

Larry Gordon: Live from the PWA Dome, in St. Louis Missouri!

Another sign shows a picture of Marvin Wood, and says “HERE’s MY CROWN JEWELS!” but the camera quickly pans away from it as it apparently has a photograph attached to it of a man’s nether regions.

Linzi Martin: We’ve got a jam packed card for you tonight folks. But boy has it been a controversial two weeks since we last left the air for Aggression.

“MAYA CAN I HAVE UR #?!” is another sign one young fan holds up smiling.

Larry Gordon: I can’t really comment on what’s been happening, as you know Linzi I’m aware of all the dealings Simon Kalis has going on and what the end result was Stolen Hearts left REBEL Pro.

As if with perfect timing, we see a sign that says “STONE STOLE MY

Linzi Martin: Corlen revealed publicly she left due to the ongoing situation with Underground X, an independent promotion based out of Las Vegas, Nevada that has seen many REBEL and AoWF defectors join their ranks.

The crowd shows a surprising number of fans wearing Virgil Keenan masks. Who knew people bought that losers merchandise? Then again we’re in the heart of the PWA, no surprise these fans are fucking losers.

Larry Gordon: It’s a contained situation though. It’s also brought us a great superstar in the name of Jonathan Cage, who signed with REBEL to get the chance to fight the UX hoards. So far though, we haven’t seen any problems here on REBEL’s airwaves from the UX people except from Chelios last week. I’m surprised he was even allowed to sit here with us at ringside, but it was something I reluctantly let Simon deal with.

We see a group of Anna Mathews fans, holding up all their favorite puppets and passing around cakes in the crowd. We finally cue up ringside and see Larry Gordon and Linzi Martin.

Linzi Martin: The problems have all happened in Las Vegas, where our glorious President in Command Simon Kalis was brutalized by former REBEL Pro World Champion and has his jaw broken.

Larry Gordon: So long as this mess stays off our airwaves I’ll be fine. Let’s not let it overshadow the great matches we have tonight.

Linzi Martin: Hell NO! Jonathan Cage makes his much anticipated debut against Bobby Lee. And as we all know Bobby Lee has found some sugaries that may help him get ahead for once.

Larry Gordon: Right. But Jonathan Cage is a former eWo Superstar, as well ironically enough, a former UX Undisputed Champion. So his debut is sure to be something to take note of.

Linzi Martin: We’ve got some epic grudge matches as well. Johnny Maverick and Maya Kalis finally face each other after they once had a tumultuous and drug and sex driven relationship. And what kind of match could lament their fiery passions but an INFERNO match!

Larry Gordon: You can’t forget about Virgil Keenan and Anna Mathews. They were at each other’s throat when Anna was still REBEL’s Champion. And with Virgil doing everything he can to get himself fired, he’s drawn the attention of that asshole Simon.

Linzi Martin: And so the great wrestler Virgil Keenan is forced to compete in a match with Anna Mathews where only weapons are allowed to be used! Using even a suplex without making sure your opponent is getting stabbed by hundreds of thumb tacks or put through a table will result in the loss!

Larry Gordon: And our main event. The Alliance of Wrestling Federations World Championship match where The Phoenix will defend the championship against his good friend, and REBEL Pro Aggression Champion: Marvin Wood.

Linzi Martin: In a pay per view all about weapons and fighting it out with brutal consequences, this match was made a Pure Rules match by Simon Kalis in an effort to slide the odds in Marvin Wood’s favor.

Larry Gordon: He wouldn’t publicly admit that, but it does seem obvious. I think everyone in REBEL Pro is hoping we get to see The Phoenix dethroned in his own castle.

Suddenly, “Breath of Life” by Florence and The Machines begins to play over the speaker system and the REBELTron lights up with the REBEL Pro logo.

Jenny Jersey: Introducing! The acting President of REBEL Pro! Accompanied to the ring by Maya and Jeremy Gold!

Simon Kalis steps out, dressed in a fine Armani black three piece red pinstripe suit. Flanking him are Jeremy Gold and his daughter, Maya. The crowd cheers loudly.

Jenny Jersey: SIMON KALIS!

They all make their way to the ring, and everyone takes special note of the wire job on Simon Kalis’ face, the result of his dealings with Reece Paxton outside the AoWF.

Larry Gordon: What does it take to KILL this man?! All his career, dozens of men and women have attempted to end his career. With glass! With knives! With guns! With barbed wire! And each and every time, Simon manages to survive and still strut his black ass down to the ring.

Linzi Martin: Jeez you really hate him don’t you?

Larry Gordon: Yes.

Kalis climbs the steps and enters the ring. Gold grabs the microphone as Maya beamingly smiles at him, holding his hand. Simon Kalis pulls out two pieces of paper, handing one to Maya and one to Jeremy Gold. Gold holds the microphone to Maya’s face first.

Maya: As my father has had his jaw viciously broken by the traitorous traitor bitch cunt fuck Reece Paxton, Jeremy Gold and I have to read the Black President’s thoughts. So!

She clears her throat.

Maya: Here ye! Here ye! O’ low and high of the REBEL Pro multiverse!

Simon looks at Maya peculiarly, shaking his head. That’s probably not what the paper says.

Maya: I have the distinct sadness of making it official that… Wait, no fuck why would we be sad? MATT STONE IS DEAD AND GONE EVERYONE!

The crowd rises up and cheers loudly. Simon rolls his one eye and gives Maya a stern look. She just smiles and pecks him on the cheek with a kiss.

Maya: And yeah. We’ll miss Emily Corlen. But that’s only cause she’s an awesome power chick who can rip peoples dicks off and slap them in the face with it! YEAH!

Maya just decides to chuck the paper aside now, leaving us with her wild interpretation of Simon Kalis’ intended statement. For his part, Simon just shrugs and leans against the corner turnbuckles smoking a cigarette.

Maya: ALSO! Since the REBEL Pro World Championship has been vacated, my dad is hereby placing that championship ON ME! I AM THE NEW REBEL PRO WOR-

Before Maya can continue Gold rips the mic away vehemently shaking his head NO. The crowd for their part cheers but Gold looks around nervously at Simon, who seems to be nodding a “fix it you idiot” to Gold.

Jeremy Gold: Uhh!! That’s NOT true! Maya is NOT the new World Champion!

Maya crosses her arms and spins around, pouting at her father. Simon just smiles and shakes his head.

Jeremy Gold: No! Tonight! There WILL be a NEW REBEL Pro World Champion folks!

Simon motions Gold to continue reading off his paper.

Jeremy Gold: And that man will either be MARVIN WOOD…. OR THE PHOENIX!

Linzi Martin: WHOA!

The crowd erupts into a massive and raucous chorus of cheers. Not at the Phoenix or Wood, no one likes those fucking assholes. It’s just exciting news and stuff!

Jeremy Gold: The AoWF World Championship match will now ALSO be thus fought for the vacant REBEL Pro World Championship! Enjoy the evening, ladies and gentlemen.

“Breath of Life” hits as Simon, Maya and Jeremy all exit the ring. Simon slaps the hands of fans as he makes his way up the ramp and throws his arm around his daughter as they disappear backstage. Gold wipes the sweat from his brow and sighs in relief.

Don’t Take It all

The camera cuts backstage, where a long blueish white line is laid out on a desk; the line is about a foot long. viagra vs cialis vs levitra reviews The line is made up of that famous powder that has ruined so many lives, made so many interesting, and has caused several models to be able to fit into their clothing… maybe. Anyways, we are back here and hear a loud sucking noise and here comes Bobby Lee lowering his head down to the line.

Gold: “Man… don’t take it… all.”

Bobby Lee stands up, turning to face Gold who ran here from ringside as fast as he could, with Bobby Lee now licking his lips, his fingers, his nose, and now… the damn desk.

Bobby Lee: “Jonathan… hee he… Jona…”

Face plant onto the floor.

Gold: “Shit!”

Fade to ringside.

Jonathan Cage versus Bobby Lee

Linzi Martin: “Armed Assault just got bigger and odder because of this man sitting beside me, Jake Norton! Jake, two weeks ago we had an associate of yours, John Chellios, on the show doing guest commentary, and he said you were still in a coma? How the hell did that happen?”

Jake Norton: “Yes, I was in a coma, but long story short, the Ultra Passion Movement is responsible.”

Linzi Martin: “They’ve been in the headlines a lot. My condolences to those injured at the UX anniversary show.”

Jake Norton: “I’m sure it’s appreciated. It’s been a dark time for many in America, but most importantly, those out west in Las Vegas.”

Linzi Martin: “Not to sound insensitive, but right now, we got a big time match scheduled to be underway in a matter of minutes. Speaking of UX, Jonathan Cage made a huge, upsetting comeback two weeks ago, only to turn his back on UX fans & the very company which made him into the star he is today. Then, a week later, Him & Simon Kalis competed in a grueling barbwire steel cage on the Anniversary show, which saw them two leaving triumphantly, although badly hurt.”

Jake Norton: “Kalis more so, thanks to former REBEL Pro World Champion, current UX employee, Reece Paxton and his curb stomp of doom. However, Jonathan does have a higher chance of competing tonight at a typical level we’ve come to expect from him, because he’s dealt with that level of violence before, and he’s learned how to handle it.”

Linzi Martin: “True, but no matter who you are, barbwire will still rip you apart if you give it the chance. Jonathan Cage was sliced up badly, as you Fans can see. Cage is nursing his ribcage, right now, as he walks down the ramp to a well-earned reception. Him sporting REBEL colors has definitely put him extra over with our audience, wouldn’t you agree, Norton?”

Jake Norton: “Very much so, Lizzy. But the fact he is eWo’s last ever World Heavyweight Champion means a hell of a lot to these fans. With him joining the elite ranks of REBEL, fans cannot help but react goofily to his presence because they know, just like Jonathan Cage knows, several dream matches are bound to happen.”

Linzi Martin: “The Epitome of Violence versus The Southern Hero, for starters.”

Jake Norton: “How about the last eWo World Champion versus the Greatest eWo World Champion of All Time, Marvin Wood? That’d get money from my wallet.”

Linzi Martin: “Now that Bobby Lee has entered the ring, we can finally get started!”

Jake Norton: “I don’t know why REBEL bothered hiring this guy. Sure, he gots some popularity for his stint on MAD, but after all this time of jobbing, one would think he shouldn’t be in the opening bout for one of the biggest shows of the year.”

Linzi Martin: “Damn, Cage has a cool reverse STO.”

Jake Norton: “One of the best in the business, baby. Switched into a bridging arm triangle choke, it’s no surprise Bobby is crying. Cage is a fucking expert, baby.”

Linzi Martin: “Bobby isn’t crying. He’s just making a weird face and noise; reminds me of a seagull.”

Jake Norton: “No, sounds more like a goose.”

Linzi Martin: “Either way, he’s refusing to tap.”

Jake Norton: “He’s got something to prove!”

Linzi Martin: “We’re already fifteen seconds into this hold! It won’t mean squat shit if Bobby doesn’t try to reverse or something.”

Jake Norton: “That’s true. So, Linzi, are you a fan of movies?”

Linzi Martin: “Yeah, why?”

Jake Norton: “After the show, do you want to go see ‘Hotel Transylvania’ ?”

Linzi Martin: “What’s that?”

Jake Norton: “Dracula, who operates a high-end resort away from the human world, goes into overprotective mode when a boy discovers the resort and falls for the count’s teen-aged daughter.”

Linzi Martin: “Nah, not my thing.”

Jake Norton: “Okay.”

Linzi Martin: “Well, Bobby has hung on for almost an entire minute! The crowd is losing interest now.”

Jake Norton: “Cage is demanding Bobby to submit, but Bobby would rather make strange animal noises.”

Linzi Martin: “He’s stopped!”

Jake Norton: “Thank gawd.”

Linzi Martin: “Oh, he’s passed out. Now the referee has to check if he’s dead.”

Jake Norton: “One lift. Two lifts. His arm has dropped twice now.”

Linzi Martin: “That’s three! OH YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

Jake Norton: “There’s still life in Bobby Lee!”

Linzi Martin: “This is fucking ridiculous.”

Jake Norton: “What’s more ridiculous is Cage not trying another move. He’s just keeping the arm triangle intact!”

Linzi Martin: “There’s no way out of this hold.”

Jake Norton: “So we just sit here and wait for something to happen.”

Linzi Martin: “Do you want to play cards?”

Jake Norton: “Sure. What do you know?”

Linzi Martin: “Poker.”

Jake Norton: “You think we have time?”

Linzi Martin: “We could just do blackjack, I guess.”

Jake Norton: “Alright, you deal.”

Linzi Martin: “Yo, Jenny, got some cards we could borrow?”

Jenny Jersey: “woo woo woo, you know it.”

Jake Norton: “Atta girl.”

Linzi Martin: “Right, so, I’ll—“



Welcome to The Puppet Show!

We’re outside. You do remember outside, right? It’s that place away from your comfy little house and well worn computer swivel chair that carries an awesome new thing called ‘Fresh air’. Never heard of it? Of course not. That would mean you would have to get out of your fantasy world of beating up people for the TITLES. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But if you’d ever emerged from your cocoons every once in a while, you’d realize—

PuppetLisa: Dolphins, attack!

—that cute little Flipper right ^up there^ is about to die for a good chunk of porpoise virgins in Sea Heaven.


PuppetLisa: YES! Turn that dome into swiss cheese!

And why wouldn’t he do it? It’s not like RealLisa gives a shit. She letting us use the damn arena (which isn’t all that smart to begin with). The security’s nonexistent, it’s probably insured up the ass…wait, what the hell is that?!

The Puppetrishi: Brainwashed minions…er, I mean, my friends, the destruction is not yet complete. We shall purify this land with the blood of discontents as they feel the power of Damaru. Raise your face to the goddess and ask not what the Ultra Passion movement can do for you, but what can you do for the movement.

Drooling Followers: Huzzah!

The Puppetrishi: Uh, ya know. Besides making things blow up and letting me rape you. ^_^

Braindead Morons: …O_O

The congregation gasps as a giant tentacle wraps around the cult leader’s face.

PuppetLisa: Fuck you, hippie. My show, my dome, my terrorist attack!

PuppetDrake: It’s like, you know…technically, it’s PuppetSimon’s show.

PuppetLiza: Yeah!

All the big heads turn to the cutest wittle magician in the world as she ties rainbow colored bows to MuppetCthulhu’s face. The Felted Charm begins to sing.

PuppetDrake: Motownphilly’s back again
Doin’ a little east coast swing
Boyz II Men going off
Not too hard, not too soft

Everybody: O_O

He shrugs.

PuppetDrake: I’m retired. Canon doesn’t mean shit to me anymore.

A rogue wave from outta nowhere sends the Drake out and about. Sure, his cameo could’ve been longer. But he has a tour to get cracking on. Dude’s the David Hasslehoff of Taiwan. Meanwhile, The Lone Puppet of the Apocalypse is not pleased.

PuppetLisa: Get your hands off of my mighty steed!

Her twin…clone…thing backs off with a sniffle.

PuppetLiza: Awwww.

Bandwagon Jumping Bastards: Awwwww.

The blonde one with the top hat seems stunned by the crowd behind her. Her head tilts. So do theirs. It’s the most awkward thing ever. Lots of staring and not saying anything. But eventually, good ideas happen.

PuppetLiza: Hey! You guys like magic?

Mob That Loves The Magic: Huzzah!

As that Johnny Depp looking prick is devoured by the love child of Henson and Lovecraft, we switch to whatever horribleness comes after this.

Long Time Coming Inferno Grudge Match

Johnny Maverick versus Maya

Linzi Martin: Welcome back to ringside, and Maya and Johnny Maverick are already in the ring. The referee for this match, Alan Stone, steps out of the ring as the ring is surrounded with the equipment needed to bring up the flames. The crowd is on their feet, stomping their feet to add a heavy and dreadful sound in the arena (as they’re being instructed to by the REBELTron. We are in the heart of the PWA, can’t expect these idiots to know how to do anything cool or exciting .) Simon Kalis is seated at the time keepers table, and with his one good eye he is likely to keep a close eye on this match.

Larry Gordon: I can feel the heat building already, Linzi.

Linzi Martin: God save them.

Maya hugs Johnny in the ring, teary eyed as they share a warm embrace which the crowd applauds thunderously. The flames spout up all around the ring now, and the bell sounds.


Maya holds onto Johnny for a few moments still then backs away. Maya smiles at him, and he holds her face. She spins around and walks away from him, he backs up as they each take a corner to start. Both of them observe the flames, and they’re already beginning to sweat. The flames rise and recede like tidal waves at a beach, coming high and then returning at foot level. More often than not they remain at foot level. Johnny and Maya walk towards each other and grapple in the middle of the ring. It’s a mistake by Maya who doesn’t have the strength to even match Johnny, let alone overpower him. Johnny begins holding her down and breaking her down as Maya struggles with all her might to fight back. Her feet begin slipping on the canvas as she is driven to her knees but she stops the power of Johnny with a swift kick into his groin area. Johnny never saw it coming, he lets go and holds little Johnny. Maya with a spinning heel kick takes Johnny to the canvas. But Maya isn’t about to relent, she knows that Johnny just doesn’t fall down without getting up. She springboards herself off the top rope, as flames whoosh up towards her barely missing her, and lands an asai moonsault on her ex-fiance. Or so she thought! Johnny lifts his knees to his chest and crushes her ribs as she lands. Maya rolls off of Johnny clutching her sides.

Linzi Martin: As everyone is aware, this is Maya’s final match in REBEL Pro. This is her fourth match inside a REBEL Pro ring, and she has three wins up until this night in REBEL Pro.

Larry Gordon: Impressive, but Johnny is a REBEL Icon who is a former REBEL Pro World Champion. I watched personally as Johnny came into his own here in REBEL Pro, and I know he’s one of the best in the business.

Johnny picks Maya up by her hair and hits a forearm smash. He knees her in the gut and she keels over. He grabs onto her and hits a jumping DDT, that crushes her face against the canvas. He lifts her right back up and takes her towards the ropes. He holds her by the neck and seemingly apologizes as he pushes her over the ropes, the flames remain at foot level however. Simon Kalis on the outside of the ring jumps up out of his seat but with his jaw sealed shut, he can’t even scream for Maya to fight back. Maya however elbows Johnny in the gut, and just as the flames go for their next wave up she pulls herself away from the fire and barely saves herself. She hits a springboard back elbow on the hurt former REBEL Pro Champion. He stumbles back. Maya again jumps onto the top rope and with amazing agility then launches herself off the top rope and lands on Johnny’s neck and shoulders. She rubs his face in her crotch and giggles on the days he was there willingly, before flipping backwards and taking him down to the canvas. She hooks the leg and then quickly realizes there’s no pinfall in this match, blushing in embarrassment.

Larry Gordon: What a rookie mistake. You’d think a Kalis would know better.

Linzi Martin: She’s getting there Larry. She has to be nervous. Fucking Johnny Maverick is a god damn REBEL legend, you said it yourself. It’d make anyone nervous, and then staxyn vs viagra throw in the fact they were engaged? Cut her some slack.

Maya gets to her feet and lifts Johnny up. She hits a spinning neckbreaker on him and takes him right back down to the canvas. She mounts him and begins wailing away on him with repeated lefts and rights with her closed fists before backhand chopping his chest a few times. Johnny looks up at her and smiles, and she licks her lips but he takes this moment of distraction to grab her by the waist and reverse their positions, slamming her against the canvas and repeatedly elbowing her across the face. She tries to cover up but she can’t and on the final shot Johnny cracks her so hard she’s seemingly knocked out, and the crowd can smell the impending victory.

Larry Gordon: It was a nice try. Wasn’t it?

Johnny lifts Maya up and takes her over to the ropes, close to the flames.

Linzi Martin: This isn’t over yet!

Johnny pushes Maya over but she wiggles her way free out of nowhere and gets behind Johnny. Johnny’s caught completely off guard, and she jumps back and then as Johnny turns around she lifts her leg up and hits her superkick finisher Perdition! Johnny catches it in the chin, bounces over the top rope as the flames shoot up and catch him on fire! The bell rings!


Jenny Jersey: The winner of this match, MAYA!

Maya has her hand raised as EMT’s at ringside quickly use fire extinguishers to put out Johnny Maverick. She quickly hops out of the ring and checks on Johnny.

Linzi Martin: So much for good try eh Larry?

Gordon grumbles to himself as Simon gets up from his seat and pulls Maya off of Johnny. Johnny looks up, stunned at the loss but cautious at what Simon is about to do. But the arena cheers when Simon extends a hand and helps Johnny to his feet, raising his hand in the air. Such a crazy moment garners many camera flashes as Simon nods to Johnny with respect, silently since he can’t talk. Maya grabs her fathers arm and the two begin walking away, but Maya is sure to throw a wink back at Johnny for good measure.

Larry Gordon: She got INCREDIBLY lucky, as all her kin do.

A Kidnapping in St. Louis

The scene cuts backstage with Jeremy Gold not hiding underneath his desk (shocker!). Instead, he seems to be daydreaming. About what, you say? Probably something like him and Bobby Lee on top of mountains of sugaries while annihilating Xenon the Xequel via ravenous butt sex. can you buy viagra over the counter Which is probably a smart thing because that was a rather horrible second coming to an almost halfway decent Disney Channel Made for TV movie. Then again, that could be the nostalgia talking. Fuck knows. Anyway, while he’s doing that, a Kalis approaches.

PuppetSimon: …

Well, almost. Despite the whole evolution from Tupac to Nick Motherfucking Fury, PuppetSimon still doesn’t have even a raspy voice. Why was that again?


Paxton’s boot. Simon’s jaw. CRACK!


Oh, yeah. That.

PuppetSimon: *scribbles* “Note to self: kill RealSimon.”

And throughout this whole pity party, it seems that Goldie finally snapped the fuck out of his pipedream and realized who’s standing on his desk.

Jeremy Gold: Simon? You shrunk. O_O

If a button eye could blink, it would. For a minute, we can see the tiniest hint of a patented headtilt before the Killa Kally wanna-be shrugs and proceeds to pop a cap inches from the human’s(?) head. As Jeremy nearly faints, the real star of the show arrives!

PuppetLisa: Sic ‘em, Cthulhu!

Of course, the Not Quite Elder God starts to rampage forth, causing its dinner to already shit his pants as a result. But just as unspeakable things are about to happen…

PuppetTeresa: Wiiiiiiiiiins!

…that damn pair of stilts just had to trip on a damn crack. She splats atop of Muppet Chtulu, leaving it stunned. PuppetLiza poofs in a magic cloud of fairy dust just in time to help her up. PuppetLisa meanwhile facepalms.

PuppetLisa: And TwatLisa thought she had issues with simpletons.

Somehow grabbing our favorite coke fiend by the hair as he whimpers over what he just saw, the Queen of Everything drags him out. The rest follow behind.

Merry Time Massacre 2012

Merry Time Massacre 2012 logo
Join REBEL Pro next time we are back on Pay Per View! As REBEL Pro, in association with The Alliance of Wrestling Federations proudly presents Merry Time Massacre! Live! December 17th, 2012 from The Aggression Arena in Raleigh, North Carolina!

Wrestling’s Undisputed

Very much expected, “Game of Thrones Main Title” by Ramin Djawadi accompanies Underground X Undisputed Tag Team Champions, Deicide & Cesar Salazar, also known as Wrestling’s Undisputed, to ringside, to a hateful reception, yet also to thousands of flashing lights birthing from cameras of all sorts.

Linzi Martin: “Looks like the rumors were true, Underground X’s prominent tag team is here, but for what?”

Jake Norton: “I’m pretty sure everyone knows the statement beforehand.”

Now inside the ring, Jenny Jersey hands Cesar Salazar the microphone she just used to introduce them, as if necessary. Accepting it gentlemanlike, Salazar looks like a Mexican Jesus in his full white suit and glorious gem of a tag championship wrapped around his waist, but this reaction from REBEL’s finest fans suggest Salazar to be a wicked member of the cartel.

Cesar Salazar: “Guys, guys. Please. I have a joke to tell. It’s a real slobber knocker.”

Deicide: “I pissed myself the whole ride here.”

Cesar Salazar: “No easy feat, but this is so good, I expect Allen Chaney to steal it.”

Deicide: “Go on, tell them the joke.”

Cesar Salazar: “Last week, for the fourth consecutive ‘Losers Leave UX’, my partner and I successfully defended our tag championships and forced out the final team in the Ultra Passion Movement, which practically leaves our division on a respirator. Four tag teams tried and utterly failed against our combined might. Los Pollos, the Giants, Soviet Union, Ultra Russians, none of them could dispute us. We’ve ruined the careers of eight men by embarrassing them through our technical prowess, torturing their bodies into submission, then left them without means of paying bills or having quality food on the table; that about sums up what we’ve done, recently.”

Linzi Martin: “This must be a dark joke.”

Cesar Salazar: “In the midst of this fine demonstration of supremacy, we visited ‘Off the Record, with Michael Landsberg’ who asked, what comes after mastering the entire division of your company? Our presence inside this ring says what’s next: we rinse and repeat in another company.”

Although some jeered at this, most fans remain quiet, quite possibly from intrigue.

Cesar Salazar: “Here’s where we laugh. Please refrain from booing so you hear this. Obviously, if you are either a fan of REBEL Pro or Underground X, you’d know there is an ongoing rivalry between the two promotions. However, there is also a working relationship; a talent exchange, if you will. That means wrestlers employed by either company are free to show up on one another’s broadcast. After accomplishing all that we have as of late, Simon Kalis approached us and spoke of a chance to broaden our message of Undisputed. He said the tag title match for this very show had been cancelled due to the mysterious disappearance of one Matthew Engel. Almost unnerved by his card’s lack of draw power, Simon became eager to have Wrestling’s Undisputed outwrestle his current tag team champions, Stolen Hearts, for the REBEL Pro Tag Team Championships.”

Deicide: “Such an awful name.”

Jake Norton: “Here, here.”

Cesar Salazar: “So we agreed, knowing that obtaining our rival promotion’s tag belts would elevate our message to an utmost standard, but, one day later, we hear news of Matt Stone & Emily Corlen quitting REBEL Pro.”


Linzi Martin: “Are they really going to talk about this?”

The fans voice vulgar disapprovals, but neither at Salazar nor Deicide. These are directed at Stone & Corlen.

Cesar Salazar: “Wait, it gets better. The reason why they quit? So they didn’t have to wrestle us. Now, they didn’t just say, “we’re sorry, Wrestling’s Undisputed, for trying to pass ourselves off as proper champions” but they tried to save face! Most noticeably, Emily Corlen said some utter bullshit about ‘needing to keep her priorities’ of being PWA Champion.”

Linzi Martin: “Emily tried burying REBEL Pro? How are we not a top priority?”

Deicide: “It’s like.. After quitting a company where you were champion, especially when this quitting is an attempt to avoid wrestling a simple match, there’s no coming back from that. Every single fucking person will see through you for what you are: a punk bitch.”

Cesar Salazar: “We are talking about Corlen and Stone here, though. Everyone in the business has taken a shit on them, and yet, they do find mild success still. We can admit that, can’t we?”

Deicide: “Sure, but take into account WHERE and against WHO they defeat to find this ‘success’, and they’re back to square one.”

Cesar Salazar: “Normally, Dei, we’d be real cheeky about this. But I find no reason to be clever. Since whenever it started, I reiterate, every wrestler with an ounce of intelligence for this business has blatantly acknowledged Emily & Stone’s awful nature. Now, without doubt, we can universally declare Emily Corlen & Matt Stone the best worst ‘champions’ of all time. Never before have we seen such cowardice, such unintentional self-punishment at a constant rate; their methods of madness would convince you this is an elaborate work, but no. It just isn’t. Those two are legitimately retarded. It’s just a shame it took REBEL Pro this long to figure it out, and the cost is the promotion’s integrity, value and respect.”

Deicide: “And that’s where we switch subjects. I don’t feel like trashing those faggots anymore, either. Let’s talk about REBEL Pro in general. As of right now, without even applying an armbar, we’ve forced REBEL’s world champion and tag champions to quit. Consequently, those supposed prestigious championships are vacant, but I’m sure Kalis will be quick to setup tournaments or whatever. And, that’s the best course of action, particularly for us. Since, well, there’s no better way of invading a company than how we are: widespread fear. As result of this blasphemy, Salazar & I stand here the Undisputed Tag Team Champions, and we say to all those, whomever remains in this pitiful division, to come try us. Come out here and avenge your company’s humiliating loss to Underground X, to Wrestling’s Undisputed.”

Fans all along the seats chant, “Second 2 None! Second 2 None!”

Linzi Martin: “I wish.”

Jake Norton: “It’d be a dream match if those four are pit together.”

Cesar Salazar: “If all the actual tag teams have quit as well, hell, we’d accept the odd pairing! Doesn’t anyone cherish their promotion’s reputation? Don’t you realize how terrible every single one of you looks right now? Stone & Emily’s actions ultimately affect all of you as well, but here’s your chance to prove to the world you all are not wimps like them; that you are strong characters willing to fight for whatever you believe in at any cost. We just want an actual challenge, really. A justification for wanting to hold these allegedly ‘big time’ tag championships that’re so big time, people have to adjust their priorities.”

Deicide: “Exactly. We’re already holding the absolute tag titles. In all actuality, if these REBEL items are treated with such recklessness, there’d be no point to even keep them. Pull a Reece Paxton and burn the titles in the trash can. Is that what all you REBEL Pro marks want to see? Your favorite promotion’s belts being desecrated?”


Deicide: “That’s not a clever chant, is it?”

Cesar Salazar: “They’re emotional right now, Deicide. The embarrassment is even overwhelming them. What’s even worse, though, is we’ve been in this ring for almost ten minutes, laughing at this company whilst getting paid by Simon Kalis and sucking up airtime on one of their biggest shows of the year; calling whoever has pride to come out and give these fans, but more importantly, give us the satisfaction of actually whooping some REBEL candy ass.”

Deicide: “Exactly! People, we have your best interests in heart! We want to give you guys a glimpse at the awesomeness of Underground X’s product by putting such a ‘BIG TIME’ promotion to shame physically instead of just verbally. Yet, where is everyone?! Why hasn’t the typical run-in entrance happen yet??”

Cesar Salazar: “They’re probably backstage playing rock, paper, scissors; determining who gets the ass-whooping first.”

Deicide: “I’m getting bored now, Ces.”

Cesar Salazar: “This does seem like a big waste of time.”

Deicide: “Ahaha. You know what? I just remembered that Underground X is supposed to be the underdogs in this story, yet here we are making a mockery of this global company.”

Finally, to the happiness of everyone, Johnny Maverick & Anna Mathews come rushing down the ramp, taking Wrestling’s Undisputed by surprise! Slipping inside the ring, the KKK (Kontroversy Kreates Kake) attacks a grinning Deicide and laughing Cesar Salazar with fierce punches that immediately wipe those smug expressions off their faces! With all four exchanging hands, dual chants of Maverick & Mathews spring from the audience, and eventually, the REBEL defenders gradually overwhelm the UX invaders!

Deicide, after a big ball of violence, is left bleeding from his nostrils and in an effective daze, but Anna being the adorable badass she is, delights these fans with an extra ‘Fuck You, Deicide’ through multiple slaps followed by a spinning chop, followed by a roundhouse kick to the side of the head and finished with a Tornado DDT! Opposite of this action, Maverick’s ‘THIS IS SPARTA’ flavored, powerful running boot is delivered so excellently, Cesar Salazar flips over-the-top-rope, lands on his feet, but instantly staggers backward into the guardrail, hitting it rather hard!!

Under two minutes, Wrestling’s Undisputed has been disposed of, for now. In victory, Anna Mathews & Johnny Maverick pick up the Underground X Tag Championships, raising them skyward to complete their act of equalizers!

To Kill? Or Not To Kill?

PuppetLiza: Well? What are you going to do with him?

The stupidest question brought to you by the doofiest puppet. Her legs hang over the edge of a production trunk as the gaggle of miscellaneous idiots fan her with the remains of Mr. Hardcore. That Other Lisa and PuppetSimon the Awesome pace around a bound and gagged Jeremy Gold. The question is stupid because they’re planning to screw him up more than what he is now. It’s what they do. But how? He has been shot at, screamed at, not given a paycheck, forced into rehab, and shoehorned into a tag team with the Ruby Vagina Emlee Korlin. What could they do to him that hasn’t already been done?

???: Why don’t you waterboard him?

The plotters quit plotting and look towards the entrance.

???: I mean, ripping his heart out and feeding it to him would also be great. Either way.

The figure, looking dapper in his green tuxedo, shrugs while holding a white box on one hand and his Vapple iFelt on the other. Angry Birds are angry and so is PuppetVirus…at least 80% of the time. Today, he seems more disinterested than anything.

PuppetLisa: You’re late.

The Queen does her best ‘gimmie one good reason why I should spare your life’ glare. He sets the box down in response.

PuppetVirus: I brought donuts.

PuppetTeresa: In win win inner win?

PuppetVirus: Yes, I got the maple crème stick.

PuppetTeresa: WINS!

PuppetVirus: I don’t understand you Canuckleheads. Maple leafs, maple syrup, maple donuts from Tim Horton’s. What’s your deal?

PuppetLisa: Wait…you can actually understand what the stork bitch is saying?

PuppetVirus: Only when she’s not talking Mandarin.

PuppetTeresa: Winner inn wins?

To what seems to be yet another stupid question, he sighs.

PuppetVirus: I keep telling you that’s only sexy if you say ‘I will rape the skulls of my victims after pushing them off a cliff’.

PuppetLisa: I’ve done that before.

In the background, PuppetSimon gives out an impressive audible eyeroll. PuppetLiza begin to say something all PuppetLiza before deciding to just shut up and practice her magic tricks. Meanwhile, our newcomer asks…

PuppetVirus: So, you gonna torture him or not?

All the big heads look to the still bound, still gagged, still scared shitless Gold and come to one conclusion.

PuppetLisa: After the donut break.


Virgil Keenan versus Anna Mathews

Jake Norton: “These two. These two right here. Man, this is the fucking match we’ve all been waiting for. Whenever Anna and Virgil got cameras nearby, especially when they’re scheduled to wrestle each other, masterful promos incoming. I’m genuinely pumped.”

Linzi Martin: “Right now, in the ring, Anna wields two kendo sticks, but Virgil refuses to engage her with a weapon of his own.”

Jake Norton: “He said a simple half-nelson suplex would do the trick.”

Linzi Martin: “Anna won’t let him throw the match, though. She’s going to kick his ass the old fashion way.”

Jake Norton: “Swinging for the fences, Anna misses Virgil several times, thanks to his slick agility – THERE YOU GO! – but ultimately, Anna’s 180 swing sees the stick slapping Virgil across his face!”

Linzi Martin: “Transitioned into a swift Russian legsweep with the kendo stick pressed against online viagra Virgil’s neck!”

Jake Norton: “While on her way up onto her feet, she bashes the fallen Motherfucker repeatedly with those kendo.”

Linzi Martin: “Opting to switch up her attack, Anna ditches the kendo sticks for a steel chair -“


Linzi Martin: “She goes for the pin, but Virgil is quick to kickout!”

Jake Norton: “No way did he kickout any other way other than instinct.”

Linzi Martin: “Eyeing the table setup against a turnbuckle, Anna smashes her steel chair twice against virgil’s back as she drags him toward it.”

Jake Norton: “As Virgil lays against the table, the chair is unfolded a few feet behind him. Running across the ring, leaping off the chair, Anna’s legdrop brings them both through the table!”

Linzi Martin: “Yet that still isn’t enough to put Virgil away!”

Jake Norton: “Of course not, but pin attempts is protocol. You’ll never know how effective those things are. No, these fans expect Virgil’s damage intake to be massive before he succumbs. He’s not a fucking quitter.”

Linzi Martin: “Pulling herself onto the

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top rope, Anna’s Arabian Press takes her stomach-first onto the steel chair laying against Virgil’s head!!”

Jake Norton: “He’s bound to have a concussion now. Christ, you can’t be taking all this shit to the head, man. This dog might get dementia.”

Linzi Martin: “Or that toothless aggression, yo.”

Jake Norton: “Helping Virgil onto his feet, Anna stops the assist halfway up to run across the ring, come back for a jump onto the chair – GOD DAMN”


Jake Norton: “That chair is broken, now. Lol did you see how the legs gave way?!”

Linzi Martin: “Yes, and these fans definitely did, too.”

Jake Norton: “When fans mark, I get chills up my spine. Anna must feel special right now.”

Linzi Martin: “She’s too busy looking around the ring for other objects to use. Oh, there’s a cheese grater, but Virgil is wearing a mask.”

Jake Norton: “Go for the lighter fluid!”

Linzi Martin: “Flaming tables are so outdated.”

Jake Norton: “What the – Shut your mouth. You’re an idiot.”

Linzi Martin: “What’s so great about them?”

Jake Norton: “Seriously, let’s not talk about this. I’m already upset.”

Linzi Martin: “Wrapping a steel chain around her fist, Anna mounts Virgil and pounds his face flatter than a pancake!”

Jake Norton: “He’s bleeding from the mouth and nose! Or is it just from the nose? There’s so much blood!”

Linzi Martin: “Twelve shots to the face, in total. Comfortable with that, Anna brings Virgil onto his feet, “


Linzi Martin: “NOPE”

Jake Norton: “Overpowering Anna, Virgil escapes but is punched from behind, courtesy of a chain-covered fist!”

Linzi Martin: “This match is ridiculously brutal!”

Jake Norton: “Down on one knee, blood drips from the face of Virgil onto the canvas! Anna stalks him, looking for the finish, right?”

Linzi Martin: “She’s trying for that Half-Nelson again!”

Jake Norton: “Bringing Virgil overhead!”

Linzi Martin: “He lands on his feet!”

Jake Norton: “Anna knows, she throws a steel-covered right hook!”

Linzi Martin: “Virgil ducks,”

Jake Norton: “HALF-NELSON SUPLEX!!!!!”


Jake Norton: “Holy shit, she’s not moving!”

Linzi Martin: “Referee Emerald Stone is calling for the bell!”

Jake Norton: “Virgil just got himself disqualified, making Anna the winner, but she doesn’t look like a fucking winner right now. Seriously, I don’t think she’s moving. Is she breathing?”

Taking off his headset, Norton gets up from the commentator’s table and goes inside the ring, just as EMTs rush out from the back. Virgil stands atop a turnbuckle, embracing the hate, and proudly displaying his bloody grin.


Welcome Back?

A hand, very scarred, blistered, and calissed, grips a pen as a name is scribbled across a dotted line. The dotted line, well it belongs to a very thick packet of papers.

Simon Kalis(v/o): “Glad to have you sir.”

The dark hand of Simon Kalis shakes the scarred white hand of the man who recently signed what appears to be a contract. The man has his back to us as the picture shifts to show him and Simon Kalis standing across the desk from each other. Simon’s jaw is wired shut and he’s over his computer, using a computer program made for him to type and hit enter and allowing his voice to still speak for him when he can’t physically do so himself. The white man is wearing a mask and speaks; there is something familiar about his voice.

Masked Man: Glad to be signed in the fastest growing company in the entirety of professional wrestling.

Simon smiles and both turn as the door bursts open, Larry Gordon comes in, his face a bit red from the exertion to get there quickly.

Gordon: “Simon, you know you are not allowed to sign any new contracts without my permission. You know what the paper said that I still have control over contracts.”

Simon shakes his head, typing his message down and then hitting enter.

Simon: “I’m afraid not Larry, when you screwed me over by joining the Masters of the Apocalypse, you sealed your fate.”

Gordon shoves past the masked man, Larry gives him a passing glance.

Gordon: “You know that filthy redneck is going to try something to get back in this company.”

Simon: “Larry, he cannot wrestle for Rebel Pro ever again; you saw to that by using your last veto right when I went against you and tried to re-hire him.”

Gordon smiles, finally truly noticing the man in front of the desk.

Gordon: “So, what do you think you can actually bring to Rebel Pro?”

Simon smiles; Gordon leans over to read the name on the contract.

Gordon: “Mr. Dale Petty.”

Gordon looks back up into the masked face.

Dale Petty: “I can bring unadultarated violence. I can bring bloodshed of which the likes have never been seen before. I can bring the strongest man down to his knees. In other words Mr. Gordon, I don’t play well with others.”

Gordon looks at the man, smiling.

Gordon: “Exactly what we are looking for in someone competing in Rebel Pro.”

Gordon turns to Simon.

Gordon: “Book this man in a match Simon at the next show.”

Simon nods, making a notation of it on a pad and then typing up his next message over the computer to speak for him.

Simon: “You got it Larry, as though I needed your permission.”

He smiles, knowing something, but Gordon expects nothing.

Gordon: “So, what inspired you to want to join Rebel Pro?”

Dale: “Bubba J, the Ragin’ Redneck.”

Gordon frowns heavily.

Gordon: “And why?”

The man nods.

Dale: “Regardless whether you like him or not, he’s a mainstay, he’s hardcore, he’s one of the toughest in the business. Like him or n ot, he could draw blood, he could draw a crowd, he could draw merchandise sales.”

Gordon nods, having to reluctantly agree with this.

Gordon: “Well, how about removing that mask so we can get a good look at you.”

Dale shakes his head.

Dale: “You don’t want me to do that, this face isn’t one that you want to see.”

Gordon laughs.

Gordon: “Sure it is, come on show us.”

Dale reaches up, untying the lace and as the mask drops, so does Larry’s chin.

Dale: “Hey Larry…. I told you that you wouldn’t want to see my face.”

Gordon sputters.

Bubba J: “Now shut the hell up and pick your chin up off the floor.”

He smiles.

Gordon: “You can’t wrestle in Rebel Pro!”

Dale/Bubba J kicks him right in the balls, delivering a vicious Trailer Park Trash. Bubba J/Dale stands over Gordon, dropping the mask onto his face as he looks down at Gordon.

Dale: “No, but Dale Petty can.”

He and Simon slap five with each other as he leaves the office; Simon looks down at Gordon and smiles. He uses his computer to sound out one more message.

Simon: “Gold… get someone to come clean up my office.”

He puts his feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles, as he lights a cigarette. He then realizes Jeremy Gold is no where to be found, cocks an eye brow wondering where his trusty sidekick is as we fade to…

Ezekiel 25:17

We open to the sounds of roaring water and asphyxiation. Which only means one thing.

Jeremy Gold: *Panting, gasping, and faux death rattles*

Donut break is officially over.

PuppetVirus: We’re going to ask you a few questions. Are you ready to cooperate?

I think with all the shock of being thisclose to a near death experience, the poor dude doesn’t have the energy to confirm a damn thing.

PuppetVirus: What country are you from?

Jeremy Gold: …what?

PuppetVirus: What ain’t a country I ever heard of. They speak English in What?

Jeremy Gold: What?

PuppetVirus: English, motherfucker. Do. You. Speak. It?!

Goldie doesn’t even get a chance to respond before once again being covered by plastic and water.

PuppetSimon: >:( *scribble* “Cereal. Need to kill RealSimon.”


PuppetVirus: Do you know the way to San Jose?

Jeremy Gold: N-no…

PuppetVirus: How can you not know? It’s right over there!

He points to a dot on the wall with an arrow labeled San Jose. Miss Pixiedust is just flat disgusted.

PuppetLiza: This is horrible! Why are you guys even doing this to a poor sweet misunderstood little man?

Her new followers seem perplexed by this outburst. Time seems come to a grinding halt as the twosome stop what they’re doing to think about this inquiry.

PuppetVirus: I’m doing for my own shits and giggles. You?

PuppetLisa: Proof of superiority.

PuppetVirus: Don’t you have titles for that?

For some reason (probably dramatic effect), the Mini-Queen of the Sea turns around to see all her titles tacked up on the wall. Seriously. It’s like a memorial for dead promotions. She shrugs.

PuppetLisa: Don’t you?

He can’t help but look at the AoWF Tag Team title around his waist AND the PWA Tag title roosting on his shoulder.

PuppetVirus: Point taken.

With that, the brutality and random questions commence. The Polly cotton blend Lizatanna is not deterred.

PuppetLiza: PuppetSimon, do something!

To be honest, the REBEL just doesn’t give a fuck. He slits the throat of a giant rat as a sacrifice to his own greatness, bathes in the blood, and shoves a glass eye in the rodent’s ass.

PuppetLiza: I can’t believe I have to deal with a bunch of…meanieheads!

She stomps away to great fanfare.

PuppetVirus: Do we even know if this is canon?

PuppetLisa: We kinda live in a moral grey area.

Jeremy Gold: …I am…a walnut! Get me out of here!

How about we get out instead?

Jeremy Gold: Noooo!

Too bad!

AoWF World Heavyweight Championship: Pure Rules Match

Marvin Wood versus The Phoenix©

Larry Gordon: Thank God that Jake Norton guy decided to leave. Who’s he think he is usurping my spot here?

Linzi Martin: Sexier than you, at least.


Jenny Jersey: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and will be fought under Pure Rules! It shall be for the Alliance of Wrestling Federations World Heavyweight Championship belt. AND the vacant REBEL Pro World Heavyweight Championship! Introducing first, THE CHALLENGER!

‘The Lonely Shepherd’ by Gheorghe Zamfir begins to play from the PA system into the arena. After a few seconds, “The Consummate Professional” Marvin Wood appears from behind the curtain with a dour expression on his face. He walks to the middle of the stage area and stands there for a few seconds, to survey the audience. He then begins walking down the entrance-way. Many of the members of the audience boo, some catcall and a few cheer. He looks at no-one as he approaches the ring, but stretches his fingers a bit. He stretches three fingers on each hand, first, and then four fingers on each hand.

Jenny Jersey: He hails from Pontefract, England! Standing in at 6’2 inches, and weighing in tonight at 240 pounds… MARVIN WOOD!

Marvin walks towards the ring steps, and walks up them and towards the middle of the apron, sliding his hand over the top rope as he does so. He pauses there for a few seconds, before entering the ring, right leg first and then left leg. He enters the ring with plenty of pomp and circumstance, as if he were a foot taller than he is. He then walks over to the opposite turnbuckle and waits.

Larry Gordon: This match is huge. Possibly one of, if not the biggest main event in the history of REBEL Pro.

Linzi Martin: Marvin Wood meets The Phoenix! Hell yeah!

Jenny Jersey: And his opponent! He is the Alliance of Wrestling Federations WORRRRRRLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!!

The arena lights shut off and several seconds of silence pass. Then, in the darkness an old man’s voice begins to sing…

Oh Death
Oh Death
Won’t you spare me over ’til another year?

Pyro explodes around the entrance ramp and stage area. As the flash from the lights fade, we see a figure standing there in a long black robe, his face hidden behind the large hood. As the fires continue to burn along the ramp, the figure advances to the ring. As he passes each fire, it extinguishes.

Jenny Jersey: He stands in at 6 feet tall, weighing in tonight at 230 pounds… He is THE PHOENIX!!!!

Finally, he reaches the ring steps and climbs in before pulling can you buy viagra over the counter back the hood, revealing the Phoenix, wearing a new black and white mask instead of his normal black and red as the crowd boos heavily. Referee Alan Stone raises both the AoWF World and REBEL Pro World championships in the air for all the world to see before handing them off at ringside. Phoenix and Wood take their corners and nod to each other with respect. Both men look around the PWA Dome, the sold out crowd on their feet.

Linzi Martin: This is it. Will Marvin Wood walk out with the greatest achievement in his career? Or will The Phoenix be reborn, with a new World title to boot?


Both men tie up and grapple, as a power struggle begins. Marvin Wood has the slight size and power advantage and uses it as he pushes Phoenix away and then gives him a chop across the chest. Phoenix stumbles back.

Larry Gordon: I’m sure most folks are wondering, “what is a Pure Rules wrestling match?”

Wood goes for a short arm clothesline, but Phoenix ducks it.

Linzi Martin: That’s a good question, Larry. Cause I sure have no clue what that is.

Phoenix grabs hold of Marvin Wood and slams him down to the canvas with a perfectly executed DDT.

Larry Gordon: First off, each wrestler is entitled to three rope breaks to stop submissions and pin falls.

Phoenix lifts Wood up, but Marvin lashes back with a European uppercut.

Larry Gordon: Once those three rope breaks have been used, submissions and pin falls done within the ropes are considered legal.

Wood with a Full Nelson Suplex now takes Phoenix down clean.

Linzi Martin: So after three rope breaks, you no longer get that protection?

Wood hooks the leg, and covers.

Larry Gordon: Exactly.



Larry Gordon: There are no closed-fist punches to the face allowed in a Pure match, only open-handed slaps or chops to the face are allowed. Punches to other parts of the body (save for low-blows) are permitted. The first use of a closed fist will get a warning, and the second will cause the wrestler to be penalized a rope break. If he is already out of rope breaks, he will be disqualified.

Phoenix with an elbow into Marvin Woods sternum gives him the chance to get to his feet as Wood recoils. Phoenix lifts Wood up, but Wood pushes him away and then the two men grapple again.

Linzi Martin: I’m sure that won’t be a problem for two technically wonderful wrestlers like Wood and Robinson.

Phoenix with a knee to Woods gut gets the upper advantage, taking hold of Wood’s head again he hits a neckbreaker that shakes the ring.

Larry Gordon: Yep. Now the third rule is pretty simple. It’s a 20 count if either of them goes to the outside of the ring, instead of 10.

Phoenix continues to focus on Wood’s neck and head region as he locks up a sleeper hold on the REBEL Pro Aggression Champion. He wrenches the hold, as can you buy viagra over the counter referee Alan Stone checks up on Marvin Wood. Wood is still with it and aware of what’s going on but it’s becoming clear that the hold is taking its toll on Marvin Wood. Marvin forces himself toward the ropes, but Phoenix yanks back and it’s a slow move. The crowd boos, most likely because they really hate both men but they hate Marvin Wood perhaps a bit less.

Larry Gordon: Wood is in bad shape if he can’t get to the ropes.

Linzi Martin: But he is a fighter and he hasn’t been on an incredible roll in REBEL Pro for nothing.

Marvin grabs the bottom rope finally and The Phoenix is forced to let go of the hold. The Phoenix is on his feet and notices a fan in the crowd whom he points out to while Wood is still getting up. The fan holds a sign reading: “BRING BACK ROBINSON PRO” and that gets a smirk behind The Phoenix’s mask. Wood however takes the opportunity to roll up Phoenix from behind!


Larry Gordon: Wood has used 1 of 3 rope breaks for the record.


Linzi Martin: Might not matter right now!


The Phoenix kicks out and rolls away from Wood. Wood quick to capitalize as he climbs the top rope and stands cautiously on the top turnbuckle. He goes for a top rope splash and lands hard on The Phoenix. Wood with another pin and the fans are on their feet.




Phoenix places his right foot on the bottom rope out of pure instinct, thus saving himself the match.

Linzi Martin: And now Rob Robinson has used one of his three entitled rope breaks.

Wood gets to his feet and Phoenix sweeps him off of his feet from the canvas. The Phoenix is back up now and lifts Marvin Wood up. Marvin with a hard knife edged chop right across Phoenix’s chest pushes Phoenix back. Wood with another hard knife edge chop on The AoWF World Champion but Phoenix responds by grabbing Wood and taking him down with a Russian Leg Sweep. Phoenix rolls over onto Wood and flips him over, grabbing his legs and locking in a Texas Cloverleaf! The crowd is on their feet to see if Robinson finally has Wood beat.

Larry Gordon: A switch in strategy for The Phoenix perhaps? He had been focusing on Wood’s head and neck, perhaps trying to weaken him there before using his patented cradle piledriver, The Flame, on Marvin Wood but now with this submission it switches things up.

Phoenix wrenches the hold, yelling at Wood to tap out. But Wood is an immaculate professional wrestler who refuses calmly.

Linzi Martin: No I think it was more the desperation factor. It was just easier to get Wood locked down in this.

Wood uses his upper body strength to begin crawling himself to the ropes. The Phoenix almost seems as if he’s allowing this, nodding to Alan Stone. The Phoenix plants himself to stop Wood just before the ropes. Wood winces as he pushes forward with all his strength and latches onto the bottom rope. Alan Stone begins counting down for Phoenix to let go.

Linzi Martin: Oh boy. I think I figured out Phoenix’s game plan.

Phoenix lets go and steps forward, dusting off his hands.

Larry Gordon: Which is?

Wood rubs his lower back and exchanges some words with referee Alan Stone. Wood begins pulling himself back to his feet.

Linzi Martin: He’s forcing Wood to use his rope breaks. What a clever dog that Phoenix is.

Wood rushes at Phoenix with a heavy forearm smash. Phoenix gets knocked into the corner and Wood unleashes a barrage of forearm smashes, one after the other in quick succession and it definitely rattles The Phoenix’s head. Phoenix stumbles forward out of the corner and Wood with a hip toss takes him down. Both Wood and Phoenix are up and Wood places Phoenix in a standing side head lock, wrenching the move. Phoenix holds on, trying to get his bearings in order to retaliate. Phoenix lifts Wood off the canvas and slams him to the canvas, both men now down and out on the canvas. Phoenix throws himself over Wood and covers.




Wood easily kicks out. Phoenix gets to his feet and so does Wood. Phoenix latches onto Wood and locks him into a standing wrist lock. Wood reverses it and puts Phoenix into a collar-elbow tie up. Phoenix gets himself out and quickly locks Wood into an abdominal stretch. Wood yells out and shakes his head as Phoenix wrenches the hold, the crowd growing restless as well at this point. Wood wriggles himself free and hits a desperation clothesline on Phoenix to take him down. Before The Phoenix can get up, Marvin Wood locks on a chicken wing camel clutch on The Phoenix. Phoenix’s eyes widen from the sensational pain as Wood now wrenches this hold and informs his friend that it’d likely be in his best interest to just tap out and admit defeat. Phoenix squirms but can’t do much to get free and it becomes obvious the life is slipping away from him with every passing moment.

Larry Gordon: Could be lights out for The Phoenix!

Marvin Wood lets go suddenly and gets to his feet, backing away from The Phoenix. The Phoenix gets to his feet slowly and turns around. That’s when Marvin Wood runs forward and hits his patented Running STO, The Imperfect Tense! He immediately pins Phoenix tightly and the crowd jumps to their feet!






Wood wastes no time trying to argue with referee Alan Stone as he pulls Phoenix from the ropes and lifts his legs up, placing his leg in-between Phoenix’s he then flips him over and locks in a Texas Cloverleaf of his own… BUT Phoenix manages to get away, and with a harsh kick to the back of Wood’s head puts Wood down suddenly. It may have been an incredibly vicious kick but referee Alan Stone has no time to check on Marvin Wood as Phoenix sits on his back and then pulls his arms up before grabbing him by the throat/chin and locking in a camel clutch. Phoenix pulls back hard, Wood chokes and winces in pain as his legs kick the canvas behind him repeatedly. The crowd is on their feet and roaring, they want Wood to get out of this.

Larry Gordon: Further focus of that neck on Wood by The Phoenix.

Linzi Martin: This is likely making Marvin Wood very vulnerable.

Wood tries to break his arms out.

Larry Gordon: Wood has used 2 of his rope breaks. Phoenix has used 2 of his.

Linzi Martin: WAIT!

Wood gets one arm free and grabs the middle rope, referee Alan Stone forces The Phoenix to let go of his hold.

Larry Gordon: Correction. Marvin Wood has used three of his rope breaks. He is no longer protected by a rope break folks.

Phoenix lifts Wood up and begins prepping him for THE FLAME! But Wood gets out of it and whips Phoenix into the ropes. As Phoenix comes back Wood grabs him and hits a heavy body slam! The crowd roars with excitement! Wood lifts Phoenix back up and whips him into the ropes again, but this time Marvin Wood follows him and hits a clothesline that sends The Phoenix toppling over the top rope. Phoenix lands hard on the outside against the barricade as Marvin Wood climbs up to the top rope again to go for that high risk pay off once again. Phoenix is hurting and it doesn’t help that fans at ringside pour beer all over him because REBEL fans say fuck The Phoenix. MARVIN WOOD JUMPS OFF THE TOP ROPE AND LANDS A SPLASH ON THE PHOENIX TO THE OUTSIDE! THE CROWD GOES NUTS!!!!!

Linzi Martin: THAT was god damn INTENSE!

Both men are now in pain on the outside, having brutalized each other’s bodies with submission after submission. The 20 count from Alan Stone begins.

Larry Gordon: This has been a hellacious match.


Linzi Martin: Right now neither man is really moving too well.


Larry Gordon: Tonight we find a new REBEL Pro World Champion. But will we have a new AoWF World Champion as well?!


Marvin Wood begins to stir a bit more, The Phoenix is still out of it.


Linzi Martin: Get back in the ring Wood!


Wood gets to his knees, panting.


Larry Gordon: Don’t forget, in this match it’s a 20 count. Not that REBEL Pro usually uses that 10 count nonsense you see in the rest of the AoWF anyways.


Wood lifts Phoenix to his feet.


Phoenix goes for a short arm clothesline!








Wood lifts The Phoenix back up again and throws him into the ring.


Wood slides back in the ring now, and the count ends. The Phoenix seems absolutely out of it. Wood begins climbing to the top rope, although he rubs his neck and winces. He gets there and then he does the unthinkable… A TOP ROPE ELBOW DROP ON THE PHOENIX!

Linzi Martin: WHOA! Did Marvin Wood just use THE ASHES on Phoenix?!

Marvin Wood covers!


Larry Gordon: This could be all she wrote folks!!!!





Larry Gordon: I can’t believe it!

Wood sits up, breathing heavily in disbelief as Alan Stone holds up two fingers.

Linzi Martin: Neither can Wood!

Wood gets to his feet and lifts The Phoenix up. Phoenix brings a quick knee to Marvin Woods gut catching him off guard, placing Wood in-between his legs… Cradle Piledriver!!! THE FLAME!!!! PHOENIX COVERS!!!







The arena EXPLODES IN BOOING as the bell rings and “Final Countdown” begins to play.

Jenny Jersey: The winner of this match and STILL AoWF World Champion… and NEEEEEW REBEL Pro WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! THE PHOENIX!!!!

The crowds boos grow louder and louder as Alan Stone hands The Phoenix both World titles.

Larry Gordon: What a night.

Confetti begins dropping from the ceiling. Figures, since we are in the PWA Dome and we’re sure The Phoenix arranged for this.

Linzi Martin: First those UX fucks invade. Now The Phoenix is once again REBEL Pro World Champion. Must bring back memories for you eh Larry?

The Phoenix raises his arms in the air, the AoWF World title in one hand and the REBEL Pro World title in the other.

Larry Gordon: Let’s not talk about that…

Wood is finally up and Phoenix helps him to his feet. The two friends shake hands as Wood is handed his REBEL Pro Aggression title. The crowd boos even louder, garbage begins pelting the ring as fans file out of the arena in disgust.

Linzi Martin: I just realized the team of Fire Wood may not have become REBEL’s tag team champions but… They now run the singles titles in REBEL Pro. Scary.

Larry Gordon: Oh boy.

Linzi Martin: For Larry Gordon, I’m Linzi Martin… Ugh. Good night, folks.

We fade to one last shot of The Phoenix triumphant! God damn it all.



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The Phoenix defeats Marvin Wood, retaining the AoWF World title and winning the vacant REBEL Pro World title