In The Beginning
[This is not a rebirth.]
[This is not a resurrection.]
[This is a transformation.]
[Long gone are the days the Hudson River Wrestling....Silver State Battle Ground....International Influence....West Coast Wrestling AllianceÖor even the Wrestling Republic.]
[We have taken our own destiny into our own hands and created two regions both flying underneath the WWA Flag. But each with their own identity and each with something to prove to the other as well as the rest of the world.]
[And if you’re watching this on your television screen right now...]
[Let me be the first to welcome you to the WWA: East.]
[We have World Champions.]
-Images of Brad Jackson, Cobra, and more recently the current WWA World Champion Jack Amethyst pops on the screen.
[We have the Future of the WWA.]
-Images of Adrien Cochrane, Chris Cannon, Jon Parker flash on the screen.
[This is the ground level setting the foundation for something great. So welcome to the show that never ends.]
[Prepare to have your mind completely blown.]
Welcome to the Party...
[The Ross Community Center in Pittsburgh, PA was on fire. Everyone in the small arena knew that they were about to witness the beginning of something very special. Tickets for this event sold out almost immediately, and now these lucky fans were going to witness a blockbuster of an event. The card was jam packed with the World Heavyweight Champion, two of the best in professional wrestling, and some of the hottest young stars the WWA had to offer.]
[Joey "The Mouth", who had been signed by WWA East from International Influence due to their foreclosure, was hyping the event as usual for the television taping. As co-commentator, Ian Wright, got a few words in as well. The ring crew worked hard, scurrying around the arena, making everything perfect. And the fans of Pittsburgh were getting more rowdy by the minute.]
[This was the start of something beautiful.]
[Nothing would be the same again.]
[Enjoy the show.]
Not a Happy Camper
CRIP: "I should have stayed my ass in Canada."
[C. R. I. P. made his way into the East Arena for the first show of the new WWA Eastern Region.]
CRIP: "If I wanted to face the same bitches that seemingly get their way everywhere they go, I could have stayed in the great "White" North."
[He looked up at the sign over the door, that read, Welcome.]
CRIP: "What a freakin' welcome. Facing the same punk I've been facing for months now. The only good thing out of this is that I get to tag with a fresh partner that has some damn heart.
Cochrane, you get what the cock roaches get."
[He finally cracked a smile.]
CRIP: "STOMPED BITCH!"
-VS- 
Wright: That's right, Joey... these guys are going to both be giving it their all. I can't wait to see how this thing turns out, so lets cut to the ring where Asesino and Jon Parker are waiting for this thing to officially kick off."
[This match up was everything the fans of WWA East could ask for. From the beginning of the contest these two wrestling stars went at it, giving everything they had and more. There were many close falls, and opportunities for both wrestlers.]
[Throughout the match El Asesino displayed his great wrestling technique, and used his experience to brutally punish Jon Parker at times. But, Parker was also used to this punishment coming from a mixed martial arts background, and brought the fight back to Asesino the same way.]
[The fans were on their feet for the majority of this contest, but it came to an end when El Asesino missed his Double Underhook backbreaker, due to Parker squirming out of it! Then almost immediately Parker retaliated with a stiff kick to the gut, followed by a double arm DDT... and then Parker made Asesino tap out with the Confederate Crossface! Asesino gave it his all to fight out of the submission, but Parker had it locked on to perfection.]
[Winner: Jon Parker via SUBMISSION; 9:23]
Hysteria, Part I
[An access door in the backstage area of the Ross Community Center. On the door a sign that reads “no re-admittance. Door will close behind you.” The door bursts open and out from behind it walks WWA former World champion, Cobra. Cobra, wearing the brand spanking new WWA: EAST T-shirt, a pair of tattered jeans, and his trademark lucha snake wrestling mask, walks down the hallways towards the locker room area with a duffle bag over his shoulder.]
Cobra: "I want my belt back. I want my belt back. I want my belt back."
[Cobra makes a turn and heads down another corridor, looking in every doorway, searching for something. He comes across a stagehand working on something in the hallway.]
Cobra: "Have you seen my belt? I want it back."
[The stagehand gives him a shrug of his shoulders letting Cobra know he has no idea what he’s talking about.]
Cobra: "My belt? I want it back."
[Cobra continues to walk away in disgust, looking for something and mumbling to himself.]
Cobra: "I want my belt back. I want my belt back. I want my belt back."
[Cobra reaches his locker room and enters the room.]
-VS-
Wright: "There's no secret who these people hope comes out on top."
JTM: "Well, until the final bell sounds, their hopes are just that; hopes. It'll take more than that to carry Cochrane and Blue Collar though to a victory tonight."
[It was Cannon who threw the first punch. Cochrane easily slipped it and returned a stiff jab of his own. Another punch from Cannon, another slip, and another stiff jab. It was nothing more than a test of his own speed. Cannon threw a European uppercut, though, that caught Cochrane offguard. Cannon came around for another, but Adrien would have none of it as he caught his opponent unaware with a submission hold.]
JTM: "Adrien Death Grip!"
Wright: "He's going to try to finish this one early!"
[Adrien was doing his best to squeeze his opponent into submission from behind, but he managed to linger to close to CRIP in the corner. CRIP reached over and hit him in the back of the head, breaking the hold. The ref admonished CRIP for the cheap shot, but the hold was broken and the damage done. Cochrane bent over, holding the back of his head, and then found himself of the receiving end of a DDT from Cannon. Cannon went for a pin count, but only managed a one count. As he pulled Cochrane up, Adrien managed a kick to the shin. Then to the outer thigh, followed by a kick to the inner. Another kick to the stomach. The fans were about to start a chant when Cannon ducked a kick to the head. He caught Cochrane in the spin and pulled him over in a German Suplex, which he held for a two count.]
JTM: "Close, but no cigar."
Wright: "And Cannon tags out to CRIP."
[CRIP stood over Cochrane and waited on him to stand. He then slapped him, drawing a chorus of boos from the audience. He would then go for an Irish whip, only to have it reversed on him. With the reversal, Cochrane to the chance to go an tag out, bringing in Blue Collar PA. He would immediately tie up with CRIP while the fans chanted his name. Twisting CRIP's arm, he wrenched it harshly. CRIP would roll through, looking for an escape, only to have his legs caught. PA released the arm and focused soley on CRIP's legs. Before CRIP could react, he found himself in pain as he was bent over backwards in a Boston Crab. But he was close enough to the ropes, and PA had to break the hold.]
Wright: "Ring savvy to know where he was, and just reach out to force the break."
JTM: "Yeah, but the fans aren't happy about it."
[Indeed, they were booing loudly. PA pulled CRIP up, but was quickly hooked and pulled over with a snap suplex. He bounced up quickly, went for a clothesline that missed wildly, and found himself being taken down with a drop toe hold. Now he was on the receiving end of a submission attempt as CRIP locked in the STF. Much the same, though, PA was also close to the ropes and managed to break the hold. He refused to do it, and the ref began a count, but CRIP finally let him go, lest he be disqualified. As the ref lectured CRIP, PA took the time to recover. When the ref turned, he and CRIP both saw PA tag Cochran back into the ring. Cochran leapt over the top rope, and he charged CRIP, catching him with an enziguri before he knew what was flying in his direction. A one-count followed. Both of the men came back up. A couple of punches came from CRIP, who then attempted an Irish whip, only to have it reversed. Luck enough for him, it was into his own corner, where he quickly tagged Cannon back into the match.]
JTM: "Back where we started, it looks like."
Wright: "It would appear so. Let's see how they try to one-up the other during this exchange."
[The two tie-up, but Cannon would quickly break it with a thumb to the eye of Cochrane. The fans booed, the ref preached, but Cannon blocked it out. He leapt to the air with a dropkick, but Cochrane cleared the fuzziness from his vision just in time to sidestep it and give Cannon a stomp to the back of the head. As he reached down to pull Cannon up, he ate a jaw breaker, followed by a kneedrop to the forehead. Cochrane kicked out of a pin attempt, and was pulled up and whipped into the ropes. Ducking under a clothesline on the way back, he made the next pass count as he leapt and caught Cannon with a spinning DDT. The fans reaction was loud as Cochrane came to his feet and pointed at his corner, signaling that PA would be re-entering. The tag was made, and the duo grabbed Cannon, whipped him into the ropes, and then took him high into the air and down with a crash via a back body drop. PA then hit a spinning neck-breaker and went for a pin, but still only managed a two-count.]
JTM: "Ah, and you can hear the disappointment in the crowd's sighs."
Wright: "Well, they needn't worry. It looks as though PA and Cochrane have this match well in hand."
[PA received a rake to the eyes as he bent over to pick up his foe. Cannon would come up slowly, but still able to hook his opponent from the side and pull him back with a Russian Leg Sweep. He made a pinfall attempt.
1...
2...
... but the ref's hand didn't quite make three. The fans cheered as Cannon argued with the official. When he turned, he found himself being whipped into one of the neutral corners. Before he had time to react, PA was right on top of him with a running elbow. PA backed out into the center of the ring, and after a couple of seconds, Cannon came charging at him with a running clothesline. PA easily ducked it, and hit a dropkick on Cannon as he turned around. The two men stood, and PA whipped Cannon into the corner again, once again charging right behind him. Cannon put on the brakes as he got to the corner, though, and turned and caught PA right on the chin with a spinning heel kick. With PA down, Cannon walked over and tagged CRIP back into the fray. CRIP walked over to provoke Cochrane, and as he tried to come into the ring, the ref was there to cut him off. Behind the ref's back, Cannon and CRIP attempted to drive PA's head through the mat with stomps to the back of his skull. Cannon would finally step out onto the apron before the ref turned back around with Cochrane standing angrily on the outside of the ring and CRIP standing over his partner.]
JTM: "Well the tide has turned, and it looks now like Cannon and CRIP are the two running this show."
Wright: "That's right. These fans are silent right now. They know that this match isn't going to last much longer unless Cochrane can find his way into the ring."
[CRIP pulled his hurt opponent up and hooked him for a Reverse DDT. As he hit the Overdose, the fans felt their stomachs sink. CRIP went for a cover, but when PA's shoulder peeped up just a hair away from defeat, the place went nuts again. Not wanting his opponent to get any momentum, CRIP quickly came to his feet. Reaching down for his opponent, he ate a headbutt and found himself being rolled up into a small package, but kicked out before the surprise pin led him to a surprise loss.]
Wright: "I think that small package just pissed him off."
JTM: "Yeah, and not in the 'I'm going to be late to work,' sense; but rather, it is the 'My wife is banging my best friend, and not even letting me watch!' sense!"
Wright: "...."
[Now angry, CRIP pulled PA up and hooked him from behind, bringing him up and down with a belly-to-back suplex. He would go for another, but as the two stood, PA hit an elbow to the head, breaking the grip around his waist. He rushed the ropes, and came back with a spin kick that put CRIP on his back hard. Both men lay motionless, as Cochrane stuck his hand out, begging PA to come to and tag him in.]
JTM: "These fans are going nuts. I don't know what's going to happen here!"
Wright: "I think I just saw Blue Collar PA twitch. But now, CRIP is twitching! Which man will make the tag first!?"
[Both men struggled to find their respective corners. CRIP made it to a corner first, but as he reached out, he discovered that he had gone to the wrong one. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw PA tag in Cochrane, and the building almost caved in from the shockwave. Cochrane came in and immediately charged his opponents' corner, taking Chris Cannon out with a Lightning Strike super kick! The fans yelled. Cochrane turned, and CRIP was waiting. He attempted a face buster, but Cochrane managed to hold the ropes and avoid the move. CRIP at the canvas pretty hard, and came up slowly. As he did, though, the received a kick to the gut, followed by Adrien hooking his head.]
Wright: "THE ADRIEN CUTTER! HE'S GOT THE PIN!"
JTM: "ONE..."
Wright: "TWO..."
Both: "THREE!!"
[The bell sounded, and the fans went nuts. Blue Collar PA stood in the ring celebrating. Outside the ring, a dazed Chris Cannon came to his feet, holding his jaw. He looked in the ring at the men who were holding their hands high. Cannon made eye contact with Adrien Cochrane with a look that seemed to say "This is not over."]
[Winners: Cochrane & Blue Collar via PINFALL; 14:55]
Hysteria, Part II
[A locker room door. On it is a sign that simply reads “Cobra”. There is a brief moment before the door opens and Cobra exits his locker room. Cobra, now dressed in wrestling attire, walks down the hallway continuing his mumbling from before.]
Cobra: "I want my belt back. I want my belt back. I want my belt back."
[Cobra reaches the end of the hallway and makes a turn towards the stage area and the ring for his match against Brad Jackson. Only a couple of steps in front of him stands a stagehand. Cobra takes the few steps towards him.]
Cobra: "Where’s my belt? I want it back."
[The stagehand gives him a shrug of his shoulders letting Cobra know he has no idea what he’s talking about.]
Cobra: "My belt? I want it back."
[The stagehand shakes his head and curls back in fear that he has given the wrong answer. Cobra pays no attention and continues on towards the stage. A couple of seconds later, he approaches another stagehand standing around.]
Cobra: "I need my belt back. Have you seen it?"
[The stagehand shakes his head no and Cobra continues on his way, looking around for something. Every door he reaches, he tries to open to look inside, mumbling to himself.]
Cobra: "I want my belt back. I want my belt back. I want my belt back."
[Cobra reaches a janitors closet and tries the handle, the door opens and Cobra pokes his head in.]
Cobra: "Is it in here? I need my beltÖ. Oh. Jackson. I didn’t see you in here. It’s soooo darkÖ Have you seen my belt? Is it in here?... No. Ok. See you in the ring."
[Cobra slowly closes the door and continues down the hallway towards the ring area, still mumbling to himself.]
Cobra: "I want my belt back. I want my belt back. I want my belt back."
-VS- 
JTM: "And here we go!
[They locked up and Cobra quickly raked the eyes of Brad Jackson, obviously knowing Jackson had a strength advantage over him. He sent Jackson into the turnbuckle and followed in with a clothesline. Cobra chopped away at Jackson before springing off the canvas with his legs wrapped around Jackson’s neck. Jackson flipped Cobra up in a position for a power bomb. However, Cobra raked Jackson’s eyes once again. Jackson rather wisely sent Cobra backwards into the turnbuckle face first. Cobra fell backwards right on top of Jackson with his right hand landing perfectly across Jackson’s chest. The ref got into position for the count.]
1...
2...
Wright: "Kickout!"
JTM: "I think I just heard Cobra scream, 'I want my belt back!"
[Jackson got his hand up right at the two count. The ref started the count.]
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
[Both Jackson and Cobra stirred, thus breaking the referee’s count. Cobra swung right for Jackson’s face but Jackson ducked. Jackson slapped on a sleeper. Cobra desperately tried to make his way to the ropes, so Jackson brought him out to the center of the ring. Caleb Lokiwitz on cue got up on the apron to distract the ref. Jackson let go of the hold, ran over to Caleb, and leveled him, sending him out to the concrete floor. Jackson turned around to lift Cobra up but ran right into a small package.]
1...
2...
JTM: "Kick out!"
[Cobra went straight up to the top rope awaiting Jackson to get up. Jackson got up and Cobra sprung off looking for a cross body. Jackson caught him and executed a fall away slam. The impact sent Cobra across the ring and almost to the outside. Jackson lifted Cobra up and hit a t-bone suplex. Jackson lifted up Cobra once again this time for a gorilla press slam and dropped Cobra right on his face once again. Jackson went to pick up Cobra again, but Cobra hit Jackson in the knees with his arm. Cobra got up and started working on Jackson’s knees with precision. Cobra laid in kicks right on target. Cobra hit a belly-to-belly suplex. Cobra walked over to the ropes and to the apron. He sprung off with a springboard moonsault and hit it perfectly.]
Wright: "Picture perfect moonsault there!"
[Cobra knowing he had Jackson winded slid Jackson’s targeted knee over to the ring post and slid out of the ring. Cobra worked over Jackson’s knee some more by smashing it into the ring post a couple of times. He slid back into the ring, jumping up to his feet and screaming, "Give me my belt!]
[Cobra dragged Jackson over to the center of the ring for a Boston crab. However, Jackson fought valiantly with his free foot kicking Cobra off and to the canvas. Jackson struggled to his feet and fighting off the pain to the best of his ability. Jackson lifted Cobra off the mat and hit a scorpion death drop. Jackson, bad knees and all wrapped his legs around Cobra’s neck, and he pulled back with a triangle choke. Caleb Lokiwitz again abruptly got on the apron to distract the ref. The ref yelled at him to get down. Caleb tossed a foreign object in the ring, which went undetected by the referee. Cobra noticed it and grabbed the object, yet still tried to fight off Jackson, who was increasingly cutting off the oxygen flow to his brain. Cobra wisely tapped while the referee was distracted. Jackson looked angrily at the distracted referee and let loose of the hold. Cobra wrapped what appeared to be brass knuckles around his fingers. Jackson turned around right into the brass knuckles. Jackson appeared to be unconscious and Cobra tossed the knuckles to the floor. He covered and Caleb got off the apron so the ref could count.]
1...
2...
3!!!...
JTM: "NOOO!!!"
[Close fall. Cobra yanked the referee’s uniform. The referee pointed a threatening hand at Cobra. Cobra turned around and lifted Brad Jackson but ran into CHOKE THIS! The impact bounced Cobra’s head off the mat a couple of times. Jackson covered with one arm on Cobra’s chest.]
1...
2...
Wright: "Not this time either!"
[Jackson could not believe it either! He lifted Cobra up again, sends Cobra up, and dropped him with a jackknife power bomb! Jackson contemplated dishing out more punishment but instead dropped an elbow and covered again.]
1...
2...
3!!!
JTM: "I think Jackson got him!"
[The referee rose off the canvas with only two fingers! The crowd was shocked at all of the near falls. A few of the smarks in the crowd mocked the call.]
Wright: "No dice!"
[Jackson cursed at Cobra. He pulled Cobra up, dragged him over to the turnbuckle, and slammed his face into it. Jackson whipped Cobra to the adjacent turnbuckle but Cobra reversed it and sent Jackson chest first. Cobra held his head and walked over to Jackson. He looked over at Caleb Lokiwitz as if it was his cue and lifted up Jackson. Cobra kneed Jackson in the gut and sent him to the outside. Caleb fell over as if he was faking a knee injury. The referee went to the outside to check on him. Cobra lifted up Jackson and sent him to the barricade back first. Cobra checked on the situation to make sure the ref was distracted and lifted up those same brass knuckles he hit Jackson with earlier. He positioned them on his fingers and swung at Jackson. Jackson ducked. Jackson ducked another wild swing. Jackson kicked Cobra in the gut and went to position him for a pile driver but received a low blow. Cobra brought the side of the knuckles down on Jackson’s back. He swung again with a blow to the back of Jackson’s head. He throwed in another couple to the back of Jackson, but Jackson is already out of it. Caleb Lokiwitz got back up to his feet shrugging off the pain, while Cobra rolled back in the ring. The ref looked over to the outside where Jackson is laid out and started his mandatory ten count again.]
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
7!
8!
Wright: Jackson is not moving!
9!
10!!!
[Winner: Cobra via COUNT OUT; 12:03]
Heading Home
[“Halo” by SOiL.]
[Out from the back stepped a man carrying the now defunct WWA Double Crown Championship belt.]
[It could only be the “Hostile Killer”, the “Unholy Assassin”. It was Jak Nemesis.]
[Jak walked down the aisle smoking a cigarette, dragging the Double Crown belt along the floor behind him. He ignored any fans who tried reaching out for a high five, in truth he appeared pissed off as he slid under the bottom rope and into the ring before calling for a microphone. The sound of SOiL cut out as Jak dropped his cigarette on the canvas and trod on it, before raising the microphone to his mouth.]
Nemesis: “So they’re calling this the new era of the World Wrestling Alliance?”
[The crowd cheered as Jak only looked back at them in disgust.]
Nemesis: “What a fucking joke.”
[The cheers were immediately replaced by a chorus of boos, but Jak continued.]
Nemesis: “The highly anticipated new split, East versus West. I look at the guys in the back here in the East, and I read through the list of names over in the West and I’m disgusted. This whole alliance makes me sick. Since I arrived here in the WWA courtesy of the Violent Suicide Tournament, I heard stories of how this was the pinnacle. Tales of how some of the greatest wrestlers in the entire world played their trade here and this was THE place to be. What a crock of shit.”
[The crowd hurled abuse at Jak who remained undeterred.]
Nemesis: “The competitors aren’t up to scratch; most of the guys here aren’t even fit to wipe the crap out of my hairy arse. Then you have the guys behind the scenes, the guys who run the show and make the matches. The bigwigs who are responsible for the critical lack of superstars in this company. Well let me tell you a story about those guys. You fans don’t deserve the truth but I’m the type of guy who will give it to you straight anyway. When the decision was made to shut down the old promotions and replace it with the Eastside/Westside bullshit, I found out the same way each and every one of you did. I read it on the website. When the decision was made to scrap the Double Crown title, I as the reigning champion found out about it the same way you punks did. I read it on the fucking website. Not once did I receive a phone call informing me of such decisions, no letter, and no damn text message. Nothing.”
[Jak paused and spat on the canvas, prompting more jeers and abuse from the crowd.]
Nemesis: “I fought my way through a hellacious Deathmatch tournament, sacrificed my body to emerge victorious and earn a shot at this title right here.”
[Jak raised the DC title belt high into the air.]
Nemesis: “I earned my shot, and then I took my title. Now I’m being told it was all for nothing? In fact allow me to rephrase that – now I’m having to READ it was all for nothing on a fucking website? I’m the fucking King of the Deathmatch! I demand a little fucking respect around here!”
[Jak’s voice grew louder as he spoke, and he took a moment to calm his anger before continuing again.]
Nemesis: “You want to know the worst thing? The aforementioned decisions were made and the website updated, and so the great hunt for talent began. The so-called big names of the WWA picked their sides, agents made calls and promoters head hunted the talent they wanted to represent their brand. One would imagine that my phone was ringing non-stop, representatives from both brands eager to sign me to a contract as one of hottest stars of the alliance. FUCK NO! Once more I failed to receive a single fucking phone call, and the only reason I’m standing in this Eastside ring tonight is because I personally contacted management here to ask about the situation and was offered a contract. That’s it. Me. Jak Nemesis. The Hostile Killer. The Unholy Assassin. The King of the Deathmatch. The Double Crown Champion. Reduced to asking for a job? FUCK NO!”
[Jak brushed his hair back and spat on the canvas again.]
Nemesis: “To top it all off I read the card and on this night, the grand opening of WWA East and I’m not even booked in a match? This place doesn’t deserve a competitor of my calibre; part of me wants to prove my point by dismantling each and every one of the guys in the back. Guys who were hunted down and weren’t forced to ask about the possibility of a job. Then I think what’s the point? Beating these bunch of misfit losers isn’t proving anything to anyone. I could beat these guys in my sleep. Instead I’d rather head home and take a big steamy piss on this worthless title belt. So the roster, the booking team, the promoters, the owners and even you so-called fans can KISS MY ASS! Fuck the lot of you, and FUCK THE WWA!”
[With that Jak Nemesis exit the ring and walked his way to the back, once again dragging the DC title belt along the floor behind him. The fans shouted their insults in his direction but their cries were met only by a raised middle finger.]
[Jak Nemesis was headed home.]
Amethyst: “I don’t usually say this shitÖbutÖ”
[He paused, rolling a ball of spittle in his dry mouth.]
Amethyst: “It’s fuckin’ good to be here in Pittsburgh.”
[A moment of confusion swept the Ross Community Centre as Amethyst hid a smirk behind his scowl.]
Amethyst: “Because it sure as fuck makes me feel better about myself seeing all you technology dodging cross eyed, slack jawed, small dicked, dry pussied motherfucks sittin’ out there wonderin’ how you’re gonna get yer’ horse started in this freeze your balls off cold climate.”
[A chorus of jeers erupted around the arena as Amethyst paced around the center of the ring.]
Amethyst: “An’ like all good athletes, I plan on getting the fuck outta here as soon as possible.”
[He paused, and then coughed.]
Amethyst: _coughDanMarinocough_
[As the crowd lashed further hatred on the Champion, Amethyst stood basking in the glory before wiping his messy black hair from his unshaven face.]
Amethyst: “But first, I plan on flushin’ out any retard stupid enough to think that they’ve got a shot at takin’ _my_ title belt off of me. Come out come out whoever the fuck you are.”
[Jack stood with his the belt across his shoulder and hands wrapped around the top turnbuckle with a sneer across his angular face.]
Amethyst: “I’m waiting fucko’s.”
[World Champion Jack Amethyst stood in the ring waiting. His challenge was accepted as the generic anthem for wrestlers began playing. "Walk" by Pantera began rattling over the PA system, soon enough The Tank came out from the back, complete in a gun metal lucha libre styled mask and an equally gray wrestling singlet.]
Amethyst: “The fuck are you supposed to be?”
[He hit the ring but Jack was all over him like stink on shit, pummeling away with left and right punches and hard knee drops to the ribs. The referee broke it up but Amethyst would go back on the attack an instant later looking to break a few of those ribs while he still had the advantage. After the third time, the referee on duty finally restrained Jack Amethyst with a warning.]
[Jack came back to The Tank who had taken a knee to catch his breath, but before he could get the punch to the side of the head, The Tank blocked and fired off a stiff knife edge chop. He followed up with another and a quick European styled uppercut to wobble the champion. The Tank hit the ropes and went for the clothesline, but Amethyst ducked and spun the challenger into a front face lock. The Tank grabbed Amethyst by the waist and forced the hold into the corner. The referee broke the hold but Jack fired off a sucker punch and as The Tank spun around, a nasty kick to the back of the leg. Amethyst grabbed The Tank by the back of the mask and went to town with a flurry of punches.]
[From there Amethyst locked The Tank in the tree of woe for some free kicks to the chest and throat of the challenger. Jack went to capitalize with a running dropkick to the face but The Tank lifted himself up and out of the turnbuckle. Amethyst was quick to recover but The Tank wrapped his arms around the champion and sent him over with a release belly to belly suplex. Jack bounced right back up but got a clothesline for his efforts. Amethyst took a knee and The Tank followed in, asking the fans if he should give Jack some of his medicine. They seemed to think so, but before The Tank laid in the punches, Jack used cheap yet effective trip into the ropes. Amethyst then proceeded to choke out The Tank on the middle rope, using his body to add extra leverage.]
[Amethyst grinned his yellowed tooth smile as he dragged The Tank up and shot him into the ropes. Jack bounced into the ropes as well and went a discuss elbow smash but The Tank ducked and hooked Amethyst sending him back with a German suplex. The Tank held on and hoisted Jack up and over with another German. He hoisted him up again but this time The champion didn't go for the ride. In fact he used the most potent form of breaking the exchange: a stiff back kick to the balls. The Tank released his hold and checked to see if his manhood was still intact but before he could properly assess the damage, Amethyst added on with a stiff knee to the chin. He hoisted him up onto his shoulders and spun him around into the facebuster.]
[The Sand Diego Sunrise ended the match with the three count, but Amethyst wasn't finished. He grabbed the masked man by the head and shook his head in disgust. Jack laid in more punches to skull as he worked the mask free with violent pulls and tears at the eye holes. The crowd let him know how they felt but a man like Amethyst really didn't care. He finally succeeded in ripping off the mask, revealing The Tank to be former AWA and AWF heavyweight champion, William Boscoe Davenport.]
[He snarled for a second before dumping him off the side of the ring before hocking a yellow-green ball of phlegm over the rope and into the front row of the disappointed crowd. Amethyst dusted himself down and cupped his crotch before demanding another microphone.]
Amethyst: “You’re lucky you’re a retard Davenport. I tend not to beat on the disabled unless they really piss me off or drool on my carpet while I’m fuckin’ them from behind.”
[That didn’t go down particularly well, but Amethyst didn’t care.]
Amethyst: “Seein’ as how the retard doesn’t count, any other chump back there fancy their chances of leaving this dump with their balls still attached?”
[Nothing came forward. ]
Amethyst: “Seriously, the best this fuckin’ place can offer is a guy who hasn’t put a pair of pants on the right way around for twenty years? You gotta be kidding me.”
[Jack surveyed the scene before locking eyes on a burly, and out of place Amish fellow.]
Amethyst: “You, Beardy, get the fuck in here before I rape your wives. All of them. You’ve got Jesus on yer side, what’ve you got to worry about?”
[Unsurprisingly, Amethyst was left patrolling the ring on his own.]
Amethyst: “Well, I got whisky to drink and skirt to lift, so, if you’ll excuse me. Fuck you Pittsburgh, and goodnight.”
[The fans couldn’t possibly boo any louder as Amethyst, having clearly proved his point, dropped the microphone and slung the World Championship belt over his shoulder. He had defied all challengers, silenced all critics. He was the best in the business. And as he pulled his lips back into a wicked yellow-toothed grin, it happened.]
[Lights out.]
[A moment.]
[ A name on the screen.]
JTM: “YES!”
[And then an ear-shattering explosion. No fireworks, no pyrotechnics. It was the fans and the music.]
[The lights throbbed to the blasting pulse of “Power Out” by The Arcade Fire, creating a steady strobe effect. Jack Amethyst stood alone in the middle of the ring amidst the chaos of the arena, staring down the entrance ramp with a rare look of uncertainty. Staring at Python. The metal ramp beneath the former World Champion was visibly shaking, but he remained rooted to the spot. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore.]
Wright: “THERE HE IS! THAT’S PYTHON, HE’S BACK!”
JTM: “ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE! PYTHON HAS ARRIVED TO ANSWER JACK AMETHYST’S OPEN CHALLENGE AND HE HAS BROUGHT WITH HIM ABSOLUTE PANDEMONIUM! I CAN’T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK!
[His eyes cold and his jaw set, Python took a few steps down the ramp and stopped, lifting a single hand to the back of his head. Fingers crawling gingerly over a single spot on his skull. A spot where there was a little bit less hair. Amethyst grimaced.]
JTM: “Oh boy! There’s a score to settle between these two, and Python hasn’t forgotten it!”
Wright: “You bet your ass he hasn’t! Amethyst once clocked him from behind with a sack of pool balls. Busted the kid’s head wide open and threatened to slice his face with a light bulb, just for leverage against FLAME Akihiro.”
JTM: “It was as cruel and unnecessary an attack as any other from Amethyst, but now Python has come back to get him! And boy, does he look ready.”
[The music faded out as Python made his way down the ramp and slid into the ring. He jumped up and immediately started toward Amethyst, who instinctively crossed the ring and put as much distance as possible between himself and his challenger. A look of triumphant return on his face, Python turned away from his target to pump a fist and bellow something out to the fans, who were more than happy to return his enthusiasm. That split second was all Amethyst needed. The wily World Champion dropped his title belt, took a running start, and dove forward. He crashed into the back of Python’s legs, dropping the two fighters and commencing a free-for-all brawl on the mat. The bell rang and an official appeared in the ring. Every fan in attendance jumped to their feet as they realized a World Championship match was underway.]
JTM: “There’s the bell, we have ourselves a match! It’s Amethyst versus Python, and they are pummeling the hell out of each other.”
[The slightly larger Amethyst managed to position himself loosely over Python’s torso and began to rain punches down on the challenger’s face with both fists. But he lost the advantage just as quickly as it came when Python got an arm around Amethyst’s neck and completely flipped their positions. Several dozen punches and sloppily reversed positions later, the two were back on their feet and still exchanging blows.]
Wright: “A left from Amethyst! A right hook from Python! And another! And another! And Python is lighting it up!”
[The fans, most of them still standing, rallied thunderously behind Python as he pummeled a dizzy Jack Amethyst back into the corner. Python stepped back for a second and allowed Amethyst to take a swing at him. Python sprinted under the punch, hopped up onto the top turnbuckle, and sprung backward into a diving corkscrew, somehow twisting around far enough to catch Jack Amethyst cleanly in the back of the head with a mid-air martial arts kick. Python landed cleanly on his hands and knees next to Amethyst, who dropped like a sack of bricks.]
JTM: “Oof! What a shot. That kid hasn’t missed a beat.”
Wright: “It looks like Python’s just returned an old favor. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have matching lumps on the back of their heads!”
[Not wasting a second, Python leapt forward and into the air, driving both knees into Amethyst’s stomach. He used the momentum of the impact to rocket his legs up into the air, land in a handstand, bounce his heels off the nearby ropes, and swing his knees back down into Amethyst’s stomach for a second time. Amethyst doubled up and rolled quickly away as the referee tried to check on him. The crowd was loving it.]
Wright: “And Python delivers a fantastic sort ofÖ I don’t know WHAT that was! But it knocked the wind right out of Amethyst.”
[Python chased Amethyst across the ring. As he stooped to grab the champion, he was met with a lightning-quick thumb to the eye.]
JTM: “Oh! A bit of foul play from Amethyst, there.”
[Still getting his breath back, Amethyst shoved Python away and took a moment to climb back to his feet. The two met once again in the center of the ring. This time, Amethyst moved quickly and landed a swift kick to the gut. He followed with a snap suplex and a perfect standing moonsault.]
Wright: “Amethyst with a breathtaking display of speed! You know, it just occurred to me that Python isn’t used to facing someone who can challenge, if not match, his quickness. He’s been forced to do the David vs. Goliath thing for most of his career. This is the first time I can remember him being in the ring with another threatening high-flyer since he arrived in OLW years ago. He may be completely out of his element right now.”
JTM: “Good point. Amethyst has a size advantage, but it isn’t a very big one. And he’s just delivered an overhead belly-to-belly suplex! And a springboard leg drop! The champion Jack Amethyst, reminding us that he’s gotten to the top using more than just dirty tricks and foreign objects!”
[Once again looking confident, Amethyst grabbed Python by the hair and yanked him to his feet. He struck the challenger with a rude backhanded slap to the face, much to the crowd’s disliking. The referee gave him an earful as he took hold of the dazed Python and sent him to the ropes with an irish whip. Amethyst wound up and missed with a huge clothesline. Python ducked the attempt, turned around, and was caught anyway with a knee to the stomach. Amethyst locked Python into a double underhook position and hoisted him up.]
JTM: “Amethyst looking for the Jack Breaker! This could be trouble for Python, BUT NO!”
Wright: “Python fought his way out of the move, grounded himself, and delivered two of the quickest spinning heel kicks I’ve ever seen! I don’t think he even stopped spinning until after the second one.”
[Amethyst, turned completely around by the kicks to the jaw, stumbled away from Python and toward the nearest set of ropes. Before Amethyst could get his bearings, Python had sprinted past him, hoisted himself up horizontally across the top ring rope, swung completely around, and smashed Amethyst in the face with both feet. He chased the collapsing Amethyst down to the mat and followed immediately with a cover.]
JTM: “A TOP ROPE 619! HE’S HOOKED THE LEG!”
ONE!!!
Ö
TWO!!!
Ö
THRÖ
Wright: “HE GOT HIM!”
JTM: “No he didn’t!”
Wright: “New champion!”
JTM: “No!”
[A collective groan went up from the fans as the referee help up two fingers. Amethyst kicked out just in time.]
JTM: “So close!”
[Python hauled Jack to his feet and tossed him against the ropes before himself heading in the opposite direction. Jack wrapped his arms to stop his momentum and as Python came hurtling back towards him, Jack grabbed the referee and yanked him into the path of the oncoming former World Champion.]
Wright: “Oh, our referee is down, Amethyst just caused Python to level our official!”
[A distracted Python was soon struck across the back of the neck with an elbow, before being spun around and planted into the canvas with a reverse facebuster. With the official down, Jack unloaded boot after boot to the head of Python before grabbing him by the hair and slamming a closed fist square on the button.]
JTM: “Amethyst is making the most of things, this is his game.”
[The crowd cheered Python on as Amethyst strutted around the ring with a confident sneer before delivering a jaw shattering knee to his opponent sending him through the middle ropes and down onto the concrete. Amethyst lifted a middle finger before heading to the ropesÖ]
JTM: “Amethyst is gonna fly!”
[Öbut Python was ready and waiting for the airborne Amethyst as he used the Champions own momentum to turn a cross-body into a spine jarring Powerslam. The crowd ERUPTED as both men lay flat outside the ring. Slowly, Python got to his feet and dragged the limp body of Amethyst into the ring. He dropped to his knees.]
Wright: “Python needs the ref, theres no one to make the damn count!”
[Realising his hard work was going to be wasted, Python desperately tried to revive the referee as Amethyst lay motionless. Slowly, the official began to stir. Python turned, ready to make the cover.]
JTM: “OH!”
[But Amethyst was waiting for him. With his back turned, Amethyst had pulled something from his pocket. The crowd ROARDED but all the challenger saw as he turned was Amethys flat on his back. As Python dropped down, Jack thrust his hand into his neck and immediately scored a roll-up. Python was stunned, quite literally, by a TASER shot to his throat.]
JTM: “You gotta be kidding me!”
Wright: “Amethyst just TASERED Python in the neck!”
[The referee raised his arm once, twice...]
JTM: “It’s over, Jack Amethyst has beaten Python and retained his World Heavyweight Championship.”
[Amethyst arose with the taser in his hand. Python grabbed his leg but was quickly given a second and much longer dose of high voltage electricity causing his limbs to twitch violently. Amethyst held the weapon against Pythons chest, reveling in the experience. The fans made their displeasure known as they nearly lifted the roof with boos.]
[Amethyst ended his assault and kicked Python upside the head for good measure before he snatched his title belt and headed to the back. He turned toward the ring and locked eyes with Python who had found the strength to get to his feet. The pair exchanged unpleasantries before Jack disappeared backstage, champion status intact.]
[End.]