Aggression 1-14-2013

Let’s Just Roll With It I Guess

We fade backstage, and much to our surprise we find Jeremy Gold sitting in the General Manager’s office with his name on the door as we pass it. Fuck happened?

Jeremy Gold: Oh jeez, how am I gonna pull this off?

Marvin Humperdink, our intrepid REBEL Pro reporter walks into the room with a microphone in hand.

Marvin: Jeremy! What’re you doing here?

Gold jumps up, wiping his brow nervously.

Jeremy Gold: You know what the hell I’m doing here. Good God man! This is the line of succession! I just didn’t honestly think it’d go down like this.

Marvin: Well, what are you doing about tonights show? Do you realize that both Jaice Wilds and Mike Majere did not even come to the show? And what about Alex Wilkie being found backstage brutally attacked before the show began? And Mark McNasty leaving with him to the hospital?

Gold sighs heavily.

Jeremy Gold: I don’t know man. I’m not used to having to be the brains of an operation.

Marvin: You’ve certainly never been the muscle, have you?

Jeremy Gold: Oh, God no! I’m usually the bait… Now… Now I don’t know what to do.

Gold plops back down on his chair, with tears swelling in his eyes as Marvin Humperdink decides to quietly back out of the office and close the door behind him.

School of Hard Knocks

Sendng to both in case Macca approves ad scoolwihit. Sorry or the lateness Harry, but I’ve been either batting the flu or omethng very cloely related toit.

Macca: “So apparently REBEL learnt two important lessons at Merry Time Massacre.”

Macca’s voice is able to cut through the volume of the thousands generic cialis of pumped REBEL fans in the audience. The audience turns their attention to the stage where The Toughest Bastards make their way through the stage curtain and out onto the ramp. Both men hold a mic in their hands and their faces are showing a serious look that seems out of place on these two men.

Macca: “The first being that if you don’t suck the right cock in this company you do not get booked on the biggest show of the year.”

The crowd let out a boo as Macca lowers his microphone and Bubba J lifts his.

Bubba J: “The second thing we learnt was that if management wont book us then we will fucking well book ourselves.”

And the crowd pops! Yes, eat out of my hand my pretties!

Bubba J: “What we did at Merry Time Massacre, despite being flat out fucking awesome, was a message, not only to management who apparently don’t know that booking one of your biggest draws on the biggest show of the year is a good thing, but to others in the roster out the back.”

Macca: “Except for Allen’s beat down. I just genuinely do not like that cunt.”

Bubba stares at Macca for a moment before…

Bubba J: “Yeah you should work that out man. It’s not natural to have that big a hard on of hate for someone for absolutely no reason.”

Macca: “Unfunny bitch!”

Luckily for the crowd Bubba J is going to try and bring this train wreck back on track.

Bubba J: “Wilds and Majere you guys just happened to be in a wrong place wrong time scenario. We where pissed off because, let’s face it, two cunts who really didn’t deserve a spot on the card got booked over us. That shit don’t fly. So you automatically became our first message. Our bad, take it up with management if you have a problem.”

Bubba then shifts a glance to his partner in crime.

Bubba J: “Allen’s beat down was a request from my buddy here, as was Norton’s. You really just used the PPV to vent some of your aggression didn’t you? Talk about two birds with one stone.”

OI OI! The shows named was mention so everyone in the crowd takes a drink.

Macca: “Yeah, I do rock like that. Anyway, our last attack of the night was set up on purpose to really get our message across. That attack was on the new Undisputed World Tag Team Champions, Cesar Salazar and his plus one. It’s ok if you don’t remember his partners name. Most people forgot about Marty Jannetty also.”

Haha! Welcome back Deicide, you fuck!

Macca: Cesar, Deicide, you have belts that we want. We didn’t even bother to wait to tell you that as you know from your experience at the PPV. So with that I’m going to say those magical words that is apparently all that needs to be said to get you a title shot in this company. Wrestling’s Undisputed, We’re coming for you niggas!

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

Bubba J speaks again rubbing at someting in his pocket.

“I don’t know much at all about these two less than ass clowns, but I already don’t like them and have all that I need”

He struggles for a moment, before pulling out a silver flask and taking a drag.

“We are going to beat their asses into the ground, dig them back up, bury their ass in less than the undercard, dig them up again, then piss on their delapidated corpses… because not of what we’ve done in the past.”

He looks at Macca.

“But because its fun as hell. Its not as fun as the new titty bar down the road, with the biggest knockers this side of Jenny Jersey.”

He winks at Jenny.

“Or that chick right there in the front row…”

He nudges Macca.

“Did you see the size of her tits? I mean they are huge, like let me drown in their loveliness type of shit.”

Macca slaps him, while smiling, and getting him back on track this time.

“Right… right…. Um… yeah, I don’t kno what your name is, don’t give a damn hat your name is, because the only moncure that is going to fit after our match…”

He checks his watch.

“Is Latest Victims of the Toughest Bastards. I’m pissed that the only remaining Rebel Pro Legend remaining… and I wasn’t booked. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my time at the titty bars..”

He smiles.

“Oh, I forgot, I wasn’t there until after all of the damn beat downs that we delivered. Nearly forgot…(points to his scarred head) all the chair shots ya know. But Edison, I think that is your name.”

He takes a second chug, Macca removes the flask, taking one himself.

“Is that nice guys, in this business and ost especially this federation finish dead last. But don’t worry, you won’t have far to fall, cause you are already there and as a matter of fact…, you can share the hotel room with Gold and the fake ass Inferno.”

He clears his throat.

“And for Loomis… son, I’m gonna kick your ass and make yo mama beg to me to stop.”

Bubba J lights up.

“Think we done?”

He looks at Macca, who looks at the ring, nodding again.

Macca: “Lets go kick some ass, then go to that place of entertainment you ere shameless mentioning.”

Bubba J nods, taking a drag.

Bubba J: “Toughest Bastards on the rise, other teams on the demise.”

He taps the ashes.

“And guys, I know you can hear the alarm clock, cause its time for your ass whoppin’ to commense.”

They begin to walk down to the ring, Bubba J dropping the mic and finishing his cigarette.

Tag Team Match

The Toughest Bastards versus The Uproars

A strong tag team match which saw The Toughest Bastards continue their path of carnage, this time against The Uproars who almost looked as if they hadn’t even shown up for the match tonight. Edison battled Macca, whilst Loomis battled Bubba J. Each of the four men took turns getting one up over the other until a Trailer Park Trash by Bubba J took out Edison for the 1, 2, 3 and Macca with the distraction prevents Loomis from stopping the cover.

Cheers that, cunts.

Winners: The Toughest Bastards in 9:28

A Talented Segment

We open on a shot of the REBEL PRO locker room. The fans in the arena bare witness to three of the hottest attractions in 2013!

Standing before you is a street clothed Justin Case. His newly attained REBEL PRO Aggression Title firmly at his grasp, upon The Chosen One’s right shoulder, with a mic in LL’s oposing hand. Next to Case is his suit wearing manager The Wiz. On his other side lays claim to his new valet, none other than the singing sensation Susan Boyle.

But this aint your mom’s favorite reality star. Case has changed her into his newst project, as she looks on with a black leather Jacket which has more zippers than Michael Jackson’s thriller coat. And boy can she thrill you now! Vulgar and pissy with more attitude than the Attitude adjuster.

Cockiness and confidence fills the talented air.

Justin Case speaks.

Justin Case: So you all must think yours truly is a weak minded coward. You all must assume that I paid off the powers that be in order to do battle in a non-title triple threat contest?

Hmmm?

Case cups his Aggression Title.

Justin Case: nope, not quiet. You see, the simple fact remains that neither McNasty nor Norton have actually earned the right to face me for my lovely title belt.

Boyle and Wiz let off a smooth sly smirk.

Justin Case: No, Boyle and Wiz is not the directions to a hot tub party, but getting to my talented point. You see, even that obese blood thirsty fool Allen Chaney can’t hang in the same ring as I. All of which comes down to this. Chaney is all talk, Norton is all walk and McNasty is just a fluke lucky boozer who has yet to defeat me in our short history.

Case pauses for effect.

Justin Case: in fact, it all comes down to this. Yours truly is the only man in our next match to have defeated both his future opponents. And that, that is why I will walk down that ramp, get in that very ring tonight and leave not just the current Aggression Champion, but the winner of our little triple threat teaser of a match. Why? Cause I got what it takes and then some.

“TCO” smiles.

Justin Case: I would give you all some but then you wouldn’t have room for dessert. And believe you me, you don’t want to be caught eating crow like my opponents soon will. And when its all said and done, no one is better than “The Chosen One”.

Justin Case U didn’t know, I rule this f*cking show.

The video feed turns to static and then…

Undisputed

Soon as we return from a brief word from REBEL’s sponsors, the camera shot opens on Linzi Martin and Larry Gordon.

Linzi Martin: “Many of you have likely noticed the absence of our World Heavyweight Champion and the Undisputed Tag Champions, Wrestling’s Undisputed. According to upper management, they’ve been given an extended holiday to preserve and celebrate their extreme victories throughout the past few months, let alone at Merry Time Massacre.”

Larry Gordon: “But next week in the Main Event, we will see all three members of Wrestling’s Undisputed face off with The KKK & Allen Chaney in a six man tag match! That’ll be worth the wait.”

Linzi Martin: “When’s the last time we’ve had a six man tag?”

Larry Gordon: “Can’t remember.”

Linzi Martin: “I’d hate to ref that match.”

Larry Gordon: “Oh, definitely. Those six have subtle beef right now but as speculation suggests, Allen and Robbo is already shaping to be a promising World title bout if it takes form. And with the KKK – particularly Anna Mathews- taking the bumps they have, right now they sort of need to charge out swinging to get back some cred.”

Mmmkay I

Backstage with Jenny Jersey, Jake Norton opens the shot returning viewers from commercial break with an adolescent-esque awkward, depressive face.

Jenny Jersey: “How were the holidays for you, Jakey?”

Through his shallow cheeks, his teeth clenching is noticeable. Also, his lazy eye somehow has more emphasis than usual.

Jenny Jersey: “Were they bad?”

After a sharp exhale,

Jake Norton: “I have no family, so I spent it alone. Unfortunately, at Merry Time Massacre, my only living father-figure spat and shat over whatever love clung. Then there’s an Australian faggot (who I’d once happily share bathwater and stuff duck toys with) partially responsible for my oddball family’s breakup. Why? Maybe he’s still upset over that lost. Who knows? It doesn’t matter. Their betrayal did the trick: broke my achy-breaky heart.”

Unsure how to respond, Jenny bites her bottom lip and looks to somewhere out of the camera’s view for apparent support.

Jake Norton: “Although, REBEL’s first card of the year is the best belated Christmas gift a lonesome nice1 could hope for. Another win over Justin Case isn’t a morale booster per se but with the addition of Mark McNasty, a dude who had my respect and was quite recommendable sometime last year; this is a good way to bounce back after Santa’s Grotto, all things considered.”

The visual of Norton’s face rising from the ‘reindeer’ pile of poop Bad Santa forced him into colorizes in Jenny’s head.

Jenny Jersey: “Ew.”

Obviously unaware of what Jersey’s comment is directed at, Norton scowls.

Jake Norton: “Excuse me?”

Thinking on her feet, Jersey blurts out:

Jenny Jersey: “Alex Wilkie walked by.”

His face now slant, Norton ultimately ignores and moves on.

Jake Norton: “We come into this match with Justin Case winning the Aggression title off Anna mostly through outside assistance from Wiz and Susan Boyle, and Fine Wine lost to Allen Chaney. On the surface, Justin Case looks like an incompetent weakling and Fine Wine got that inevitable intense breakup in the cards. Truths of these beasts are Justin is a self-parody whose been allowed success because the Kalis family have no cares whether someone wins a top-tier belt by means of interference and believe reckless officiating is of no consequence, and McNasty should stop forcing the funnies because we’ve already got Allen doing that shtick.”

Jenny Jersey: “McNasty didn’t lose to Allen, technically.”

A shrug goes with,

Jake Norton: “I’ve already addressed it on twitter, but as a reminder: Wilkie is pitiful. Still, McNasty is at fault for not – ugh. No, this is boring.”

Shaking his head, Norton snatches the microphone from Jenny Jersey.

Jake Norton: “This formula is done.”

Looking at the cameraman, Norton signals for him to follow with a bend of his index finger.

Jake Norton: “Really, it’d be simple for me to just assassinate all these ridiculous characters week by week, but that’s not what sells. Nobody is going to be bursting at the seams for me disillusioning them with cold facts of why Justin Case and McNasty either suck or lost big mojo.”

Pushing through a black curtain, Norton suddenly appears on the ramp leading to ringside! Fans are cheering.

Jake Norton: “My victory doesn’t depend on sharing what qualities I possess are more fruitful than theirs, aloud. My victory is already concrete.”

Now done walking up the steps and stepping through the ropes, Norton stands in-ring.

Jake Norton: “Why should I have to argue a mathematical equation? Do you people really find a statistical slap fight intriguing? Because that’s what Adrian or Simon or Maya or Larry Gordon, whoever fucking books this, booked. Justin Case, I’ve beaten him already. And I mentioned earlier once having respect for the bloodthirsty, psychopathic McNasty who truly represented what REBEL Pro is, but that ceased soon as Fine Wine started airing segments of them humorlessly training to Karate Kid’s overplayed hit.”

For some reason, Norton appears frustrated.

Jake Norton: “During the Holiday hiatus, I sat in a comfy leather chair beside a raging fire thinking how to make this whole promo thing more interesting. To tell the truth, I sort of do this every week, huh? Of course, sometimes I brainbustah Susan Boyle – “

Solid pop occurs.

Jake Norton: “wrestle ultra violently and cut funny promos, which is all that’s required, but.. I’ve linked a similarity between myself and others in the AOWF. Seriously, I bothered to sit down and watch what other people are saying and doing: Allen Chaney, Matt Stone, Emily Corlen (before PWA fired her ass for – to my understanding – being a terrible champion), Johnny Maverick, Anna Mathews, The Phoenix, Mark McNasty, Bubba J, the list fucking goes on and on. They all –or, rather, WE all either do or try to do the same shit and talk the same smack.”

A brief pause leaves Norton’s jaw slightly dropped in revelation.

Jake Norton: “All of them are guilty of trying to be cool, ‘smart’ and TRUTH. Yup. Like when Allen Chaney says, “I won the Number One Contender trophy! It’s time for a new World Champion!” I’m like, “what the fuck? What makes you think people need YOU as World Champ? We just got Sean Robinson, who excellently tiger driver 91’d Phoenix through a 17 foot high cell rooftop. And his whole reasoning was to remove the guy who clearly loathes REBEL Pro for its current lead-in-the-race position over crummy PWA. But hey, that’s what happens when you re-re-re-rehire Matt Stone, a dude who vacates titles if he doesn’t want to defend.”

Linzi Martin: “Oh dear. This is a shoot.”

Jake Norton: “Sean Robinson had a reason, a purpose. You, Allen? You don’t have shit. You need a belt because your career means shit, and you’re insecure because of that fact. But don’t trip, dude. Anna Mathews, Johnny Maverick, Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie – four guys off the top of my head are all in the same boat. During the build to Merry Time Massacre, in one way or another, those four douchebags phrased a simple thought however they liked but it all meant the same: we’re coming to this title match looking to win a belt/trophy because.. well, just because. Justin Case did the same thing, but, you see, he was pitted against the same argument, therefore it might as well been him wrestling a plastic bag. Too bad he didn’t suffocate.”

Sitting down crisscross, Norton mimics an overdone stance.

Jake Norton: “This, by all means, is a shoot, but see, unlike many of these wannabe cowboys who try riding in at high noon with pistols blazing, I don’t have a gun. I feel like the guy inside the bar who’s drinking some whiskey while the mindless gunfight happens outside. I’m the guy who’s thinking, “The problem isn’t if the town can withstand two of you idiots; it’s whether this town is worth its chops.”

Larry Gordon: “What the hell does he mean by that?”

A frown and seconds of silence follows Norton’s last wordy breath.

Jake Norton: “McNasty and Justin Case, they’re the two duelists. They’ll talk about wins and titles as they should, but the desire and intentions will feel adolescent. Me? I’m thinking bigger right now. The town is REBEL Pro, and I want the town to not become a parody of itself. I mean, where are we going? Is there any clear locker-room leader? In Underground X, we all knew Cesar Salazar was the big dog who everyone had a ton of respect for because he’s the one who paved the way for that company’s restart. In Victory Wrestling, Teresa Quaranta’s name is synonymous with it. And, according to Sean Robinson, guys like Rex Caliber and Lisa Seldon are the great ones of REBEL Pro. Yet, I don’t see it that way. I don’t feel that’s true. They’re just two people who held the World Heavyweight Championship. Sure, Lisa played a role in REBEL Pro stepping out of high school gyms, but that’s hardly an accomplishment to be respected. That’s more of a move done to simply be qualified for respect.”

Jake Norton: “I want something more. I’m finding me a http://viagracanadianpharmacy-norx.com/ cause – one that will shake the very foundation of REBEL Pro. I’m done coming out online canadian pharmacy here and telling people how to be a winner and champion. These assholes should know how to be if they want to be a contender. Me? I’m already a fucking contender. You hear me, Kalis? I’ve taken whomever you booked me against and beat the shit out of them, both verbally and physically. You want me to beat McNasty and Case? Fine. I’ll do it. You know I will. These fans know it, too. But, what will I have accomplished? Will I just be adding another tally mark to my already stacked win record? Am I just sitting here so that cunt Anna Mathews, who lost a tag title match and her own Aggression belt to fucking Justin Case, can get ANOTHER opportunity? Why, because she has an ass you want to tap? What the fuck.”

Getting to his feet, Norton looks out to the crowd.

Jake Norton: “You can hate me now.”

Tossing the microphone out of the ring carelessly, the fans respond mixed.

Larry Gordon: “Why are they booing?”

Linzi Martin: “Norton just took jabs at several of these fans’ favorites. Of course it’d be a mixed reaction.”

Non-Title Match

Jake Norton versus Justin Case

Jake Norton starts off the assault with a Russian Leg-sweep into the Guardrail during Justin Case’s entrance and the bell immediately dings as the two men battle outside the ring. Case gets handed The Wiz’s cane but Norton kicks it away and slides into the ring. Case follows him and as Norton goes for a pendulum elbow he misses and Case grabs hold of him and lays him out with the Benchmark! Case covers for a quick win but only gets a 1 count! Case goes up top as quick as he can with Norton still a bit dizzy from the previous assault and Justin Case dazzles the crowd with a shooting star press… Until Norton puts his knees up and Case bounces off him in complete pain. Norton covers! 1! KICK OUT! Norton lifts Case up and takes him down with a masterful wheelbarrow dragon suplex! Norton isn’t finished and attempts a double hammerlock piledriver but Case fights back, gets free and then counters with a fishermans suplex. Case on the offensive and immediately locks in his move, Tap or Snap! Norton is in writhing pain but refuses to quit, much to the disappointment of Case as Case wrenches the hold. But Norton manages to grab the bottom rope preventing any submission from counting. However as per REBEL Pro rules Case keeps the hold on anyways. Despite this Norton does not beg nor surrender and Case lets go, and turns around unimpressed with his opponent. Case pulls Norton into the center of the ring and lifts Norton up. He seems to be setting up for a belly-to-belly suplex but Norton slips free and finally hits the pendulum elbow! With Case reeling, Norton capitalizes and hits The Process of Illumination! He covers!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Norton slips out of the ring and makes his leave without ever looking back at his talented, yet defeated opponent.

Winner: Jake Norton in 12:41

One More Time

“So, you made your decision?” says Oliver Fitzsimmons, better known to our viewers as Spyke Gein as he sips at his bowl of tea.

“Sure did.” said Allen. They were in Cafe Gratitude in Kansas City. Super healthy hippy Vegan restaurant.

cialisonline-pharmacycanada.com

“And?” asks Spyke.

“And if you think beating Justin Case is why I came back to REBEL Pro then you certainly don’t know me very well.” says Allen. The waitress comes by and sets Allens Veggie tacos in front of him.

“I don’t know man. Don’t you think after what happened with the AOWF title that maybe you aren’t-”

“Aren’t ready?” says Allen, interrupting Spyke. There’s a moment of silence.

“It’s a fair question.” says Spyke.

“Maybe guys like Norton are okay with coming here just to pick a fight with whoever they perceive to be the weakest but that’s not how I roll. I played Simons little game and he had his fun, now it’s time to find the biggest dog in the kennel and bite it’s throat out.” says Allen. He looks around, realizing how many trendy Vegan hipsters are listening to his conversation. He takes a bite of his taco.

“So…Sean Robinson. When?”

“Next Pay-Per-View.”

“What is your plan?” asks Spyke, taking another casual sip of his tea.

“Get in his head. Beat him in a wrestling match. Set him on fire.” says Allen. Spyke chuckles a bit but stops when he realizes Allen isn’t chuckling. Allen just gives Spyke a somewhat terrifying smirk.

“…Shit, dude.”

“No more joking around.”

————————————————————-

“I am having a series of very good days.” says Allen, smiling as he holds his trophy. He is backstage, standing front of a REBEL Pro banner in his trademark lucky sleeveless flannel and a T-Shirt reading ‘HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?’ with a picture of Matthew Engel.

“Let’s see: I beat Mark McNasty and Alex Wilkie and won a pretty sweet trophy, went on Twitter and made Sean Robinson seem like an idiot, got to meet my hero who may or may not exist, heard the new single by my favorite band, lost four more pounds, continued to have sweet ass mutton chops, watched the new Adventure Time, saw Django Unchained a fourth time, and decided when I’m gonna have my title match and who I’m going to face. So that’s all awesome. I’m having an awesome time. it’s pretty awesome to be me.” says Allen before giving us a big thumbs up.

“People still don’t seem to be taking me very seriously, but that’s fine. You know what? Maybe I’m not funny. I mean, ignoring that I perform in front of crowds of people who laugh at my jokes, maybe I’m just not funny. Can any of you tell me precisely what bearing me not being funny has on what happens when the bell rings? Anybody? No? Well damn. I’m an unfunny motherfucker who can win him some matches. I can live with that.” says Allen, he shrugs.

“I dunno, Anna is a little more creative than that. I bet she won’t mention me not being funny. HOPEFULLY she doesn’t make the same mistake Jake Norton did and call me out on being too cocky after winning an ‘easy match’ after recently having lost to JUSTIN. CASE.” says Allen, cupping his hands over his mouth to make the JUSTIN. CASE. super-echoey.

“Everyone seems to be cracking jokes about Anna and how her glory days are over and you know what? I’m not going to do that. I sincerely hope she can bounce back from this run of bad luck she has had that started when…” says Allen, interrupted by a jump cut to Allen pinning Anna Mathews to win the AOWF World Title.

“Right. That. Like I said, I just KNOW she is going to bounce back from this… Next week.” says Allen.

“But before that she is going to suffer one more loss, and she can be secure in the knowledge that it was to someone who…well…doesn’t hate her?” says Allen, gripping at straws for a way to soften the blow for Anna.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing. I’m going to beat you Anna. I know that sucks, but I have a trophy to defend, a World Championship to win, and a one eyed black mans face to wildly wag my penis at in victory. I’m going to beat You, Sean Robinson, and anyone else who steps in line and for once it’s not going to be to prove anything to anyone. It’ll be becasue I’m a fucking Champion and that’s what fucking Champions do. I’m not gonna kiss ass, I’m not gonna stab anyone in the back but I’m certainly not going to play nice. I am going to go straight to the top of the mountain or die trying.” says Allen, looking very serious.

“Bring all your puppets, your kicks, your flips, and hell bring out Simon to try and screw me out of my trophy for his DAT ASS loyalty. The loss of respect I feel for you in that instant will make it so so much easier to leave you comatose and bleeding under a pile of torn felt and broken dreams of future ‘shinies’” says Allen. He just emphasized the word shinies, he didn’t use air quotes. He’s not an asshole.

“Like I said, Anna. I don’t dislike you. I’m actually a big fan. I know you’re gonna bounce back after I beat you. And after I do you’re going to join the legions of people who tell me I’m not funny because they think it gets under my skin. It used to, but I finally have been able to put into perspective the TRUTH behind the insecurities of the people who tell me that phrase. You see… everyone loves a good joke.” says Allen, pausing for emphasis.

“…They just get all pissy when the joke is on them. Every ‘You aren’t funny’ is just another way for all of you to feel better about yourselves because you just realized that you aren’t as good a wrestler as….well… someone like me.” Allen says. he smiles.

“As such, I will be accepting every exclamation of ‘You arent funny’ with a thank you. Sean Robinson? Thank you. Matt Stone? You’re too kind. Jake Norton? I love you, too.” says Allen, tossing in a wink for Norton. He would’ve winked for Sean Robinson but he wouldn’t want Paul Alba getting jealous.

“And if Anna wants to be all sore about the beating she’s about to receive? Thank you Anna. Thank you very much.” says Allen, he bows.

“See you in the ring, dollface.” He says before walking out of frame as the camera fades to black.

Real Shiney

Jeremy Gold is doing stuff. What kind of stuff, you ask? Well, who the hell knows. He could be looking through contracts. Or fucking that kangaroo of his. Or trying to figure out exactly how the hell not to get himself killed. But at either rate, he’s here because he’s supposed to be, dammit. Motherfucker’s very very busy and he has a lot of work to do since the Kalis’s’s’ killed themselves. Like, say, trying to make himself matter. The camera pans out to see a grinning Master of Time and Space standing right behind him which creates a lot of cheers everywhere. Her movement is slow and flowing as she reaches behind her back and pulls out an air horn. She brings a finger to her lips to signal silence from the crowd as the horn inches closer and closer to his ear. Oh, what a tense moment this is! Can’t you feel it?

EEEERRRRRNNNNT!

To the surprise of nobody, our new overlord jumps a good five feet and…doesn’t come down. You’d think somebody would’ve tipped him off on the glue trap on the roof. Aw, well.

“Hellooooooo Rebel Pro!”

With a surefire grin and laughter that can move mountains, Anna Mathews jumps into the spiny chair and spins around making herself the Tasmanian Fucking Devil of speed before stopping.

“Eye wuz informed by both Rebel Pro management an mi lawyers dat my behavour at Merry Time Massacre was just plane whorrible. Day tell mii I had know rite to a) destroy Rebel Pro property und b) completely kill hoff oar cripple the few Justin Case phans dat arr left. Hive alsew heard that the families are threatening tew sue unless I offer a pulic apology and compinsashun fer possible medical bills and/or burial type stuffs. The wons that hav survived claim that I attacked them because lol my dawd beats joo. Sew lemme respond inn kind.”

She takes a deeeeep breath.

“Furst of all, Justin Case fanz should’ve bean buried a long time ago. Prefurably alive. Secondlee, if ya honestly fink four won second I’m going to spend moolah I busted mi ass for fer years awn the braindead, u should be shot. And az for him beating me? That’s simply knot true. Trooth iz I thru the match because quite franklee, I felt sowwy fer him. Eye mean, this is the same guy hoo pinned Benji Dyce and ended up getting a Sherlock Holmes DVD for hiz troble. I’mma big phan of Robert Downey Jr. But even ya’ll hav too admit how pathetic that is. Besides…”

Her hands sweep behind her back. There’s sounds of rummaging and other type things obviously piped in from our soundguy, Bill Goldburg. Her tounge lulls out of her head while Baron von Gold’s has his own tounge a-flappin’. We can’t quite make out the words. PuppetLisa must’ve stuffed PuppetLiza in his mouth. Finally, Anna’s eyes widen and with one hand, she pulls out—no. It can’t be!

“…I gotz the REEL Aggression title rite here.”

Then for extra measure? Her other hand pulls out her tag title.

“If anniebuddy actually paid attention to my lil seggys, they would’ve noticed hive had it an my tag belt hidden in Ye Olde America for, lyke months nao. It’s wus under the care ov won Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism. He fought day were plates oar something. Sew the belts yoor holdin, Mizta Case and Rasslin’s Undisputed? One-hundred-persent fake. Counterfit. False. Faux. Fool’s gold. Bullshit. Nothing but smoke n mirrors an the like. The proof ish in the strap, my boyos. Mine’s genuine leather which arr what tru championship belts arr maid of. Yoors has simulated leather witch has all the legitimacy of faux fir. It looks the same an mai even feel the same to the uninitiated, but annie connisewer can tell the difference.”

Pet-pat the shinys. I know you want to.

“And Justin case nobuddy believes mee, I’m offering a billion dollars tu anywon who can prove me wrong. Bring awn your belt makers, ur record breakers, your scientists. Special horders doan’t upset mii.”

Then with a sn

“Az four wat I do nxt? Ish verry simple. Tunight, I go in dat verry ring against a man that has a whole lot to prove: one Allen Cheny. Mi purrsonally, I like Al. He’s got drive and watnawt. Hii even one a title for five minutes. No beef here. But I kno that az seriously as he’l take this match, aye’m not the one he’s gunna worry about. Al’s mynd is much too focused on going after Simon. I’ll go into the ring, giv him the fight of hiz life, steal his trophy, and with luck, complete mi collectun of Rebel Pro shinys. After that, only won thing will be left to do…”

The camera pans out so we can see those two living breathing specimens of madness in the room. The Queen of the Dodos conjures up a calling card and stuffs it in her broody buddies pocket. He blinks.

“Take da straight n narrow paf an yif joo start to slide, givva little whistle. Oar just yell fer Jiminy Cricket. Besides, cha mite kneed moar firepower when shit rolls down hill.”

In a blaze of glory, Anna teleports out leaving poor Jeremy to fall back into frame and make a really big crash.

Number One Contender’s Trophy Defense

Anna Mathews versus Allen Chaney©

Allen Chaney towered over Anna Mathews and used his size to his advantage but on the same coin, opposite side, Anna uses her speed. However Chaney starts the battle by bringing Anna down with a clothesline. From the canvas Anna goes for a kip up hurricanrana but Chaney is too large for her to bring down with her leg strength alone. Instead Anna gets hoisted up as Chaney holds onto her legs and powerbombs her into the corner turnbuckles like a rag doll. Chaney goes to continue the offensive but Anna smartly slides out of the ring to avoid his power and formulate a new strategy of attack. With lightning quickness Anna is back up on the ring apron and she springboards off and hits a spinning heel kick. Allen stumbles back but grabs her and whips her into the ropes. Yet Anna with a handspring back elbow finally takes Allen down to one knee. She quickly hops up onto the top rope and goes for another hurricanrana despite the kip up variation failing, yet with Allen on one knee she takes him down much to the cheering of the fans. She covers!

1!

KICK OUT!

Anna does not relent as she moves to lift Allen up by his head but Allen spikes his shoulders into her gut and takes her right into the corner turnbuckle. Chaney goes for a scoop slam but Anna gets out of it and goes for a mandala hinerei which Allen avoids. Now Anna Allen attempts a gutwrench powerbomb as he catches Anna but she slips out of his grasp and goes for another handspring back elbow but Allen, while watching the REBELTron in front of him which shows the action can see it coming and steps out of the way. Anna hits the canvas, and Allen bounces off the ropes and then goes to drop himself onto her but Anna instinctively rolls out of the way to avoid being struck. The crowd is on their feet and loving every moment of it. Anna is up now and she launches herself off the top rope with a moonsault as Allen gets to his feet and takes both of them down. Anna covers!

1!

2!!

KICK OUT!

Anna is up and goes back to the top rope to continue to use her speed and agility to her advantage, but as she comes flying off Allen catches her. He hits a double arm-DDT which shakes the ring HARD on impact. He feigns to go for a pin but shakes his head, instead getting to his feet and looking down at Anna before going for a standing leg drop. Anna shakes on impact, and Allen Chaney covers!

1!

2!!

KICK OUT!

Allen and Anna both with so many close calls that might be bothering them, but the crowd is eating up this exciting main event. Allen Chaney lifts Anna up but she headbutts him and then unleashes a Big Ball of Violence! No one has time to even see half the moves she pulls off but it has left Allen Chaney dazed in the ring on his feet. Anna moves for the ropes, Allen’s not so dazed anymore as she comes bouncing off and twisting with the BOOMERFLY KICK! Except Allen Chaney ducks it and grabs hold of her whole body, his power and strength coming into full measure and he suddenly hits THE PUNCHLINE!!! The crowd is on their feet as Allen covers near the ropes!

1!

2!!

3!!!

DING DING DING

Allen Chaney is handed the Number One Contender’s trophy and raises it high above his head like it’s the fucking Stanley Cup as the crowd cheers. Anna Mathews gets to her feet and the crowd cheers both of them as we fade at them staring at each other momentarily, knowing what’s coming next week…

QUICK RESULTS

The Toughest Bastards defeat The Uproars
Jake Norton defeats Justin Case
Allen Chaney defeats Anna Mathews to keep onto the NOC Trophy!

And now, to the INTERNETZ!

Larry Gordon: Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to a special viewing for all to see over the internet.

Linzi Martin: Yep! cialis generico italia It’s been a while since REBEL Pro just aired anything on the internet, hasn’t it?

Larry Gordon: It has, but this is a special circumstance as And we head back to Montreal and Merry Time Massacre. There is a reason this match was not aired during the Pay Per View. Nor at all during our broadcast of Monday Night Aggression. This is why the Kalis camp has been deathly silent since this event and why it was delayed from airing. The only reason I can imagine as to why no spoilers were leaked of what happened is because Canadians don’t have internet.

Linzi Martin: You all may’ve noticed the absence of the Kalis’s’s’ here tonight and this is why. We warn you, what you are about to see is possibly one of the most brutal matches this sport has ever seen.

Kalistic Death Match for the Presidency of REBEL Pro

Simon Kalis versus Adrian Kalis©

Jenny Jersey: The following match will be contested for the Presidency of REBEL Pro in a “Kalistic” Death Match!

“Machine Gun(16bit Remix)” by Noisia begins and the crowd jumps to their feet, as the dome above everyone in the Olympic Stadium begins to open.

Jenny Jersey: Introducing first, he is the current President of REBEL Pro Wrestling!

Two opposing lines of men and women in gray, white and black military camouflage along with white ski masks run out down the entrance ramp. The two on each side at the very front carry flags. One is The Order of Chaos flag, and the other banner has the REBEL Pro logo. They all turn to face each other and the entrance ramp itself, standing at attention.

Jenny Jersey: He stands in at 6 feet and 3 inches tall, weighing in tonight at 230 pounds… Hailing from Montreal, Quebec Canada! He is… “THE LAST SUPERSTAR”!!!

An arch of pyro engulfs the curtain as Simon Kalis steps through and the crowd goes absolutely nuts.

Jenny Jersey: SIMON KALIS!!!!!

Simon Kalis steps through and shoots cialis generic online his left arm in the air, closed fist while he waves an Ak-47 in his right hand. As he steps forward, each “soldier” in the line salutes him Order of Chaos style. Both of his hands have been gloved over a dozen times, dipped in glue and then rubbed into broken shards of glass. Simon Kalis circles the ring, yelling at the crowd to help pump them up.

Linzi Martin: The battle any fan of The Order of Chaos has been waiting for. It’s time to finally settle the transition of power and the mantle of leadership, Larry. A falls count anywhere death match of fuck.

Larry Gordon: Officially that isn’t on the table in this match.

Linzi Martin: Officially, no. But that’s really what it boils down to, a power struggle for who will be the true regime going forward.

Simon slides into the ring and raises his left fist again. Snow begins to sprinkle down over the ring and the fans but they’re all too pumped and energetic to feel the brisk cold December air. Simon begins firing shots from the AK-47 into the air, probably a good thing the dome top opened up then. Jenny Jersey stands aside, smiling, and trying not to fall into any of the pits set up around the ring either.

Linzi Martin: On one side of the ring, you’ve got a giant coffin of sand and scorpions. On another side of the ring, you’ve got a giant fish tank full of very hungry piranhas. And on the third side you’ve got a double reinforced titanium coffin of hot fiery coals. In the traditions of death matches of the past, all combined into one massive cluster fuck of doom.

Larry Gordon: Both men have both fists gloved and dipped in glue and glass shards, in the tradition of a Taipei death match. And finally, both men were allowed to bring any weapon of their choice. I sincerely hope Simon isn’t going to use an assault rifle.

Linzi Martin: There’s a reason the PWA forbid Simon from ever facing anyone in this match type. It is brutal, it is barbaric and it raises the chances of someone not only losing their career but their life Larry.

Larry Gordon: This is REBEL Pro.

Larry smiles as Simon has an extra clip ready and quickly reloads the AK-47 and turns to the entrance ramp, getting on one knee and aiming.

Jenny Jersey: Annnnd his opponent!

“Seven Devils” by Florence and The Machines hits, and the crowd remains on their feet in a rousing applause. The entrance ramp lights up in a circle of flames on the left side.

Jenny Jersey: He is the Alliance of Wrestling Federations Television Champion!

The soldiers also remain however, still standing at attention as Adrian Kalis rises in the circle of flames with Lacey Gloria in his arms.

Jenny Jersey: He stands six feet and one inch tall. Weighing in tonight at 215 pounds… He hails from Montreal! Quebec! Canada! ADRIAN! KALIS!

The crowd gives another thunderous applause as Adrian steps through the flames and shoots his arms out to the side, blowing smoke from his nostrils and mouth. Lacey wraps her arms around him, and they are a passionate kiss before she lifts his scarf over his face. We are yet unable to see if Adrian has a weapon he has brought, but his hands are both gloved and have been dipped in glue and covered in shards of glass Taipei death match style. Simon needn’t close his left eye to take a more precise aim, he merely breathes very carefully as his finger rubs the trigger. Adrian steps forward, turning to Lacey and telling her to return backstage. Adrian raises a salute towards Simon, and then yells out something the camera don’t pick up. However quickly, all those soldiers lined up along the entrance ramp all turn towards the ring and engulf pills of cialis Adrian around them. Simon lowers the assault rifle and smirks as Adrian uses them all as cover on his way to the ring. Adrian seemingly disappears, although him being in all black and them being in white makes it confusing. Fucking ninja.

Linzi Martin: Whose side are they all on?

Larry Gordon: Both.

The soldiers return to their station along the entrance ramp, however now Adrian Kalis is nowhere to be found. Simon stands up and steps forward, looking over the top rope. That’s when Adrian slides out from the opposite end of the ring, squeezing himself between the fiery coal coffins bottom foundation and out. He hands the AoWF television title off to ringside and slides in behind Simon, and that’s when everyone sees what weapon he has.

Linzi Martin: Motherfucker has a over the counter viagra sword on his back.

Adrian climbs up onto the coffin of fiery coals and begins walking over them before stepping onto the apron, without flinching a moment. The crowd cheers as he steps into the ring behind Simon, Adrian’s boots leaving melted footprints in his wake on the canvas. Simon senses him and quickly spins around, AK-47 swinging with him. Before Simon can pull the trigger, Adrian unsheathes the sword on his back and slices the AK-47 in half in one fatal swoop. Simon’s jaw drops, and the crowd goes fucking nuts.

Larry Gordon: Dear lord.

Adrian straightens his posture and throws his sword into the tank of piranha before stepping back and bowing respectfully. Simon chucks the trigger half of his AK-47 into the scorpion and sand coffin and steps back, smiling and bowing respectfully. The music ends and the snow is still falling around them.

DING DING DING

Immediately Adrian rushes forward and begins unleashing a furry of striking attacks with his feet, elbows and knees. Simon masterfully blocks and dodges the attack, both men engaging in a battle of Muay Thai kickboxing. Simon however quickly drops to one knee before rising back up with a huge uppercut that clocks Adrian square in the chin, ripping part of his face scarf from the glass us pharmacy for cialis shard laced fist of Simon. Adrian stumbles back and Simon runs forward and leaps up, bringing his knee towards Adrians face. Adrian dekes out of the way and goes for a reverse thrust kick blindly. Just as blindly Simon forces his upper body completely forward and dodges the attack. He then throws his own reverse thrust kick out backwards and Adrian instinctively leaps in the air spinning his whole body like a torpedo forward before flipping and landing on his feet. Simon steps back up and turns around to face him. Adrian enters a new fighting stance, taunting Simon on. The elder Kalis begins swaying back and forth, smirking.

Fans: WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!

They clash and both men strike, cracking each other across the face with their glass shard embedded gloved hands. Flesh tears off leaving tiny gnashes on both their faces, with Adrian’s face scarf being torn along with his face. Simon with an angle kick in Muay Thai style, Adrian jumps back to dodge. Adrian with a thrust kick, Simon raises his knee to his chest and uses his thigh to block the attack. Simon with a thrust kick of his own, Adrian blocks the same way. Adrian with a European uppercut while Simon recoils sends some flesh and blood ripping out of Simon’s chin before Simon bounces off the ropes and comes back with a flying scissors kick that takes both men down to the canvas. Simon covers.

1!

KICK OUT!

Larry Gordon: It’s too early to even begin to attempt a pin.

Linzi Martin: But it was worth a shot, no? You never know when you may’ve just meted out a death blow.

Adrian rolls away and gets to his feet, looking over his shoulder at the tank of piranha behind him. He leans over the top rope and looks down into the tank, his blood falls into the water and sends the piranha into a frenzy. Simon is up and charges but quickly puts his feet down to stop the charge as Adrian gets ready to flip him up and over into the tank. Instead as Adrian looks up surprised, Simon hits a spinning heel kick and sends Adrian over the top rope and almost into the piranha tank if not for Adrian catching the middle ropes and pulling himself up. Adrian hangs off the middle ropes as Simon swings with his glass shard covered fists, forcing Adrian to dip down to avoid every attack but placing himself precariously close into the tank. Simon wrenches Adrians legs off the middle rope and it sends Adrian toppling into the piranha tank, immediately getting attacked and bitten with the crowd cheering on.

Linzi Martin: I hope he has a cup on.

Larry Gordon: Will that really protect his family jewels?

Linzi Martin: No clue.

Adrian splashes about, flailing and jumps out of the tank with some piranha still attached to him. He quickly rips them off him, tearing his flesh and rolling away on the thin mats just outside the ring. Simon climbs up to the top turnbuckle and immediately jumps off, driving an elbow deep into Adrian’s chest that sees Adrian convulse momentarily. Simon gets up and lifts his son up but Adrian with a European uppercut. Simons face rips from the glass shards and he stumbles back. Adrian grabs him by the head and smashes his face against the announcers table before whipping him into the corner post. “DING!” as Simon’s head smacks off of it and he falls flat on his back on the outside of the ring.

Linzi Martin: Adrian is bleeding from a bunch of little spots all over his body. I wonder if that hurts?

Larry Gordon: Why don’t you go take a dip into the tank of piranha and tell us how it feels Linzi?

Adrian lifts Simon up and then drops him back down with a quick elbow over the back of his fathers head.

Linzi Martin: No thanks.

Adrian lifts Simon up again, Simon with a quick punch into Adrian’s gut. Simon twists his fist around and pulls back. Adrian stumbles back, a piece of glass stuck in his gut as he winces and falls to his knees. The crowd are all on their feet in horror at the literally gut wrenching sight of it all. Simon grabs Adrian and throws him into the ring. But as Simon follows him in, Adrian trips Simon from his back on the canvas and quickly gets up onto him. Adrian locks Simon Kalis into a fucking camel clutch and with his hands covered in glass shards, the glass rips into Simon’s neck and chin at the same time. Simon’s one good eye opens wide in pain, blood trickling down over Adrian’s hands and onto the canvas so bad it begins pooling. Adrian wrenches the move, yelling out to the Last Superstar to submit.

Linzi Martin: Holy fucking shit.

Larry Gordon: …I never thought I could see a submission move pulled off so violently.

Adrian wrenches and wrenches, Simon groans and the referee keeps checking on Simon. Simon refuses to give up but the referee stands up and crosses his arms in an X and the bell rings.

DING DING DING

Immediately the crowd boos as the ref tries to get Adrian to let go of the hold. After a few moments Adrian does, and Simon goes limp on the canvas in a pool of his own blood. Adrian shoves the referee forward and demands answers. Simon shows no sign of movement.

Larry Gordon: I believe our official has just called the match. He had to stop it.

Linzi Martin: I guess but-

Fans begin throwing garbage into the ring and pushing and shoving each other. The bell dings some more, and Simon is finally crawling. Adrian kicks the referee in the gut and then quickly hits the MasaDriver on him for good measure. The crowd enjoys it as Adrian turns to Simon and begins speaking to him. Simon holds his neck, and the bleeding is bad as Adrian helps him to his feet. Simon waves backstage and then yells out at ringside to Jenny Jersey. Backing away from Adrian to lean against the ropes, Simon sighs heavily and wipes his neck. His chin and cheeks got the worst of the glass and not his neck, thankfully.

Jenny Jersey: This match will…

Simon yells out to her.

Jenny Jersey: This match MUST continue until there is a clear and defined winner!

The crowd cheers and…

DING DING DING

Immediately Simon rushes at Adrian but Adrian ducks and spins right behind Simon. He grabs Simon from behind and lifts him in a belly to back suplex, throwing Simon over the top rope and INTO THE SAND AND SCORPIONS! The coffin falls off its stand and crashes, spilling sand and scorpions about ringside. The scorpions, clearly agitated by this begin snapping at Simon repeatedly as Simon squirms and rolls around in a fit of blood and sand and snow from the open dome in the Olympic Stadium.

Linzi Martin: Jesus Christ. He should’ve just let it finish.

Larry Gordon: He would’ve been declared the loser, Linzi. Luckily those stingers are not poisonous.

Adrian slides out of the ring and reaches under it for a chair. Adrian begins smashing the chair over Simon’s face until more blood gushes from the Old General. Adrian chucks the chair aside and lifts one of the scorpions up and then lifts Simon’s tights up and shoves one into his groin. Simon screams as he rushes to rip that one off first. Adrian takes a moment to lift another scorpion up and rip off its large stinger and two pincers, holding it up for the camera to see before he devours it. The crowd cheers wildly.

Linzi Martin: My god that is disgusting.

Larry Gordon: I hope PETA doesn’t sue us.

Simon rolls away from the sand and Adrian watches him and wipes the blood off his own face. He stalks the elder Kalis until dropping on his head with a knee. Adrian grabs hold of the guard rail at ringside, using it as leverage as he begins stomping Simon into the sand. Adrian Kalis lifs Simon up and whips him forward into the steel steps. He slowly makes his way to Kalis and throws him onto the ring apron before climbing up himself, teetering over the fiery coals of the last tank. Adrian moves to kick Simon onto the bed of fiery coals but Simon instinctively grabs Adrian’s foot and trips him over, forcing Adrian to fall into them himself face first. Adrian yells out in pain and finally, we have a new referee coming down to the ring. Just in time as Simon quickly gets up onto Adrian’s back, placing his feet at the small of Adrian’s back and grabbing both of Adrian’s arms and then pulling back. Adrian can’t move, with his body being stretched above him and his body being burned and sizzled below him. Smoke starts to rise, the referee asking if Adrian wishes to submit. Simon pleads with him to quit but Adrian, his tears steaming off his face refuses. Simon thus continues his awkward surfboard stretch, avoiding putting any one foot on the coals himself. Simon lets go finally, perhaps in mercy.

Linzi Martin: I think I smell Adrian cooking.

Larry Gordon: This is disgusting.

Except not mercy as Simon grabs Adrian’s face and pushes it into the coals. Adrian however, with the rest of his body free, flails quickly and rolls off the bed of fiery coals taking Simon with him to the mats below. Adrian gasps for air while screaming, and the once loud and rowdy crowd has fallen silent as he squirms back and forth, shaking with his entire front portion of his body burned. His leather outfit has seen itself burned into his skin at places and his mouth and chin and neck are red and black as smoke rises from him. Simon sits up and looks over his son and then kneels next to him, lifting Adrian into his arms. Concern marks his face as he touches Adrian’s burns with his forearms since his hands are still covered in glass shards. He immediately pulls back, feeling the heat. Simon stands up and walks away, as the referee begins a ten count. Adrian Kalis’ eyes close and he is apparently unconscious.

1!

Simon grabs a microphone at ringside.

2!!

Simon Kalis: No. There will be no counting him out and down.

Simon spits, reaching into his boots for a single protected cigarette and his other boot for a lighter. He sparks it up and sits on the ring apron now over Adrian, looking down.

Simon Kalis: Get up, boy.

There is no movement from Adrian.

Simon Kalis: Fuck you, get up Adrian.

Simon takes a long drag off his cigarette, looking agitated as he notices blood now on the filter of it.

Simon Kalis: This is what you wanted. A war. A battle for my company. But this! THIS! This is great! This is how the leader of REBEL Pro should be decided. In blood. Because REBEL Pro is the federation for the strong. For the hunters. Not for the weak, not for the hunted. And so its President should be a reflection of that. And this is what we’ve come to see, isn’t it? I know some of you came here tonight to see more than just The Phoenix take on Sean Robinson and hopefully get killed in the process. You came here to see more than Anna Mathews dismantle Justin Case. Yes. You came here to see the Kalis family go to civil war.

The crowd cheers and Simon flicks some ash onto Adrian’s limp body.

Simon Kalis: Looks like I’m not the only one with a fucked up face now, am I kiddo?

Adrian twitches, but his eyes remain closed.

Simon Kalis: You’ve never been able to live up to your potential, and now it’s cost you your career. You’ll forever live in my fucking shadow.

Adrian rolls, and slowly gets to his feet. He begins ripping the leather burned into his skin, slowly and methodically while staring down Simon. Simon smiles, bloodied and all, smoking his cigarette calmly. Adrian goes as far until he is in nothing but half his tights.

Simon Kalis: So.

Simon drops his cigarette into the coals.

Simon Kalis: Let’s finish it.

Simon steps forward as Adrian backs away, raising his fists up. Adrian backs up onto the entrance ramp, surrounded by those Order of Chaos “soldiers”.

Simon Kalis: Finish him for me.

On one side, the soldiers take a step forward as Simon drops the microphone. Adrian looks them all over as they raise their fists outward, their elbows arched and their fists touching as if to signify they are ready. Adrian looks behind him and motions the line of men and women behind him. They step forward and do the same thing. Adrian motions Simon to come for him as the men and women on Simon’s side go for an attack. Adrian ducks, while the men and women on his side step forward in his defense and all hell breaks loose on the entrance ramp. The two sides clash and Adrian stands among them, pushing them aside as Simon moves forward towards him. The crowd is pounding the stadium with screams and cheers and beer is notably selling in the stands very fucking well. Adrian with a thrust kick to one of the men on Simons side sends that man over the entrance ramps side and a foot below. Simon makes his way up, and quickly elbow uppercuts one of the women on Adrian’s side as he approaches. Finally the two men meet in the middle of the chaos and begin sending Muay Thai style thrust kicks at each other. With each strike, the other blocks and then counters and it begins a cycle with Simon pushing up forward and Adrian falling back with every counter each man does. A group of four of the Order of Chaos’ nameless goons go flying off the side of the entrance ramp through some tables. Finally Simon rushes at Adrian and goes for a running knee but Adrian throws himself to the ramp and slides down under Simon Kalis, getting to his feet and then running and jumping onto Simons neck and hitting a hurricanrana right on the entrance ramp. Adrian looks over the edge of the stage, taking note of the sound and video equipment on the side on a bunch of tables as backups. Microphones, subwoofers and all kinds of other random equipment. He lifts Simon up and then locks his arms. The cameras flash.

Linzi Martin: JESUS!

ADRIAN HITS THE MASADRIVER OFF THE SIDE OF THE STAGE!!! The crowd is in complete pandemonium as both Kalis’ are down and out off the side of the stage and a cameraman rushes to film the destruction.

Larry Gordon: Adrian just put Simon through tables and sound equipment. But while Simon just plain isn’t moving, Adrian looks like he may’ve hurt his own back pulling off that stunt.

Adrian rolls away out of the wreckage and slowly and painstakingly pulls himself to his feet. Adrian finds a microphone and then slams himself hard against the side of the entrance ramp and stage out of fatigue, using it to leverage himself and keep balance. He hoists the microphone up and taps on it until a sound technician has it turned on.

Adrian Kalis: This… This isn’t what I wanted, old man.

Adrian reaches into his own boot now, pulling out a protected cigarette and a lighter from his other boot. He sparks the cigarette and then slumps down next to Simon, patting his father on the chest.

Adrian Kalis: This is what I was taught. That the strong will lead. The weak will perish. So I’ve given you a taste of your own medicine, haven’t I?

Adrian flicks ash into Simon’s empty left eye socket, but Simon remains motionless.

Adrian Kalis: The Order of Chaos you once said, has three members. Only three. Two veterans and a rookie under their tutelage. Yet you, your mind long deserted of any sense of normalcy whored that legacy to wage idiotic wars against everyone you could find. And maybe that was merely the evolution of it all, eh? Turning the group militaristic. To making it a mirror of the fucking Sith because you’re such a god damn nerd. A master and an apprentice, and what you taught me from day one was that in order to be the man you had to beat the man. And oh my folks, look and behold what a man we have before us.

Adrian pushes himself back to his feet, exhaling cigarette smoke as he looks down at Simon.

Adrian Kalis: A man who built a legend, yes. Who built a name out of being unbreakable. That nothing anyone had ever done to him could end his career and finish him. He ALWAYS came back!

Adrian throws an arm into the air and circles, staring at the crowd with glassy eyes and a bloody and burned face.

Adrian Kalis: Did you think this was only about REBEL Pro? I’ve carried you old man, for three years I fucking carried you because you wanted to prove you still couldn’t be brought down

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even after the end of Death Row all those years ago. You always said it took one of us to bring another one down. And think about it old man… How many careers have you ended? How many lives have you destroyed? How many people have you betrayed? How much longer will you continue to ruin that legacy? You had your chance to walk away. And maybe you should never have come back. Now it’s time to finish this, and show the whole fucking world that the indestructible General is human after all.

Adrian drops his cigarette on Simons chest and stomps it out. He then makes his way gingerly around the ramp and back up it as Simon remains somewhat motionless but not for long. Adrian begins climbing the side of the REBELTron, but Simon Kalis is up. Simon wobbles as he stands up, crashing into the side of the ramp and then into the guard rail where some fans pat his back. He squints as he looks up, Adrian climbing. Simon slowly makes his way now up the entrance ramp and begins climbing right up after him.

Larry Gordon: Adrian had the match won. Why stop to taunt Simon?

Linzi Martin: This isn’t going to end well, Larry…

Adrian stands many dozens of feet above the entrance ramp on the REBELtron, standing back as Simon finally catches up to him and makes it up. The cameras zoom in as the men seem to exchange some words before grappling. They contend with keeping their balance as the power struggle ensues, both men aching and bleeding and fatigued. Simon out powers Adrian and cracks him over the head with his knee before grabbing him and suplexing him on top of the REBELTron. The tron shakes, the crowd is going nuts. Simon is up and lifts Adrian up. He tries to put Adrian into the same vertaebreaker he just suffered but Adrian squirms free. Adrian attempts his spinning kamikaze on Simon but before he can complete the drop Simon powers himself out of Adrian’s arms. Adrian goes to kick Simon in the gut but Simon jumps back, almost falling off the side of the Tron. Adrian rushes forward but Simon connects with that kick now and sets up Adrian into the Sentencing of the Damned.

Linzi Martin: Sweet Jesus don’t Simon! Don’t!

Larry Gordon: This is how he paralyzed a man almost ten years ago, Linzi. Ending his career. I don’t think he’ll do it to his own son.

Simon gingerly backs up and now stands over the edge of the Tron, Adrian on his back squirming trying to get free.

Larry Gordon: My God he is.

Simon drops back, the cameras flash! BUT ADRIAN SLIPS FREE AT THE LAST SECOND, GRABS ONTO THE SIDE OF THE TRON AS SIMON FALLS TWENTY FIVE FEET BACK DOWN AND RIGHT THROUGH MORE TABLES AT THE SIDE OF THE ENTRANCE RAMP!!!

Fans: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Larry Gordon: BAH GAWD LINZI! BAH GAWD! SIMON IS DEAD! SIMON KALIS IS DEAD!!!! HE HAS TO BE!!!

Linzi Martin: ….

AoWF INSTANT REPLAY: We see Simon Kalis http://cialisdosage-storeonline.com/ falling back, while Adrian slips free and manages to grab the side of the Tron just barely as Simon falls perilously to his doom.

Adrian looks down over his shoulder at Simon, then at where he is. Then again back at Simon. Adrian taps his right elbow against the Tron and then points to the crowd.

Linzi Martin: Sweet fuck no don’t kid.

ADRIAN KALIS THROWS HIMSELF OFF THE TRON, PUTTING OUT HIS ELBOW AND HE LANDS RIGHT ON SIMON!!!

Larry Gordon: OH MY GOD!

Larry Gordon holds his mouth as Linzi Martin pukes over the announcers table. Fans in the audience cry out, shrieking. Some even vomit themselves as Adrian lays over Simon Kalis, having landed awkwardly on that massive elbow drop with part of his forearm sticking out through his skin. He screams and wails in pain but uses his good arm to lift Simons leg up, his back over Simon’s chest. The referee drops for the count.

1!

2!!

3!!!

DING DING DING

Adrian wails and wails, the sounds sickening as he holds his arm up and screams. Simon Kalis is not moving and remains utterly obliterated in the mass carnage. EMTs immediately rush to both men, two stretches awaiting them. Even Linzi Martin is being attended to by an EMT as she pushes her chair back trying to regain her composure. Larry Gordon stands, headset off as he tries to survey the damage from where he is. “Seven Devils” hits.

Jenny Jersey: The winner of this match! And thus our President of REBEL Pro… Adrian Kalis!

As Simon is loaded on one stretcher, Adrian is carefully loaded on another himself while the snow continues to fall from the opened dome as we fade. The REBELTron has replaced the images of the destruction with only…

REBEL Pro logo

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