The sound of a ringing bell.

V/O: “Class is in session.”

The Old School Wrestling Skull flashes on screen before the sudden eruption of crowd noise hits us like a ton of bricks and we’re inside The School Yard with “Chariots of Fire” by Vangelis blaring over the PA System. Brent Kersh is stood dead centre in the middle of the ring, surrounded by flames.

Rick Walker: “Old Schoolers, welcome to Afterburn where we have one hell of a show for you tonight. That man inside the ring faces off against Scarecrow in a Main Event unlike any we’ve ever seen.”

The camera takes a look at the fire licking at the bottom rope.

Richard Roman: “There’s an Inferno only feet away from us, Rick. Can you stand the heat?”

Rick Walker: “More importantly, can Brent Kersh?”

‘The Enforcer’ has a microphone.

Brent Kersh: “Last week, I snapped.”

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” *clap clap clap* “THAT WAS AWESOME!”

Brent grins, though shaking his head at the same time.

Brent Kersh: “For weeks I have been on the receiving end of games. Whether it was Scarecrow or Pitchfork, there was always someone trying to get inside my head. Last week I was stood in that Elimination Chamber with a heavy heart because I knew that I was on borrowed time..”


Brent Kersh: “.. I knew that in one hit, I’d probably lose consciousness and be unable to compete. That’s what happens when you’re held captive in a cornfield for a week with nothing to eat or drink but rainwater.”

He shudders slightly in remembering his ordeal.

Brent Kersh: “But tonight isn’t about that – it isn’t even about me snapping last week. Tonight is about the end of the line for both myself and The Scarecrow. If he thinks my time is up then I’m going down in a ball of flames and I’m taking SCARECROW WITH ME!”

His raised voice sends the crowd into raptures.


Rick Walker: “Who’s doing that?”

The arena is suddenly thrust into darkness and we all know what that means.

Richard Roman: (whispers) “He’s here.”

And there he is. The lights return and The Scarecrow stands atop the entrance ramp, a microphone in his hand. He looks down at the now raging flames, knowing that he’s somehow responsible.

Brent Kersh is trapped.

Scarecrow: ”Fear..”

His harsh and weathered voice rattles deeply.

Scarecrow: “…it does not live within this shell. I’m unafraid of fire or burning to dust. I am the fire, the terror, the heartbreak and destruction. I told you that your time was up, didn’t I? Like a fire, I’m unrelenting, unmerciful and unforgiving. You’ve fought valiantly – like a warrior, but I will burn your whole world to the ground. Where your eyes don’t go, fear..”

The eerily silence continues as he lowers his head.

Scarecrow: ”the Scarecrow.”

The lights go off and then come on again, The Scarecrow having vanished. Yet stood in the ring amongst the fire, unable to escape is Brent Kersh. Staff rush to his aid with extinguishers, putting the flames out before they do some real damage, whilst we take one last look at a focused Brent Kersh.

Rick Walker: “This match is going to be one of the most epic matches we’ve ever seen.”

Richard Roman: “And remember, someone has to get burnt to lose this match. If that’s Brent Kersh, it could be the end of career. If it’s the Scarecrow – well..”

Rick Walker: “Hay burns, Richard. Hay burns.”

The bell rings and DTR rushes forward with a massive clothesline, taking Mother by surprise, as he leaps down to the canvas, landing punch after punch to her face, as she struggles to fight him off. The referee warns DTR who keeps pounding on the near defenceless Mother before finally prying him off, warning him with a disqualification if he keeps it up. Shrugging the referee off, DTR turns back to Mother who quickly rolls DTR up in a surprise small package that catches the Virus off guard. One…Two…Kickout! Both competitors get to their feet as DTR catches a kick to the leg from Mother, and another, and a third which sends him down to one knee, as a fourth sends him down on both as Mother rears back, BIG HEAD KICK, NO! DTR ducks and delivers a savage neckbreaker

Mother goes down hard as DTR leaps up, delivering a Legdrop across the neck, and another, and a third. DTR kicks Mother over, trying to lock in a crossface, but Mother manages to slip out, landing a quick headbutt that dazes DTR before rushing to the ropes and landing a perfect basement dropkick to the face of DTR. Mother pulls up the Virus, trying to lift him up for a Fishermans Suplex but DTR blocks the move, kicking Mother hard in the gut, and dropping from behind with a huge Fill in the Blank, causing Mother to cry out in pain. DTR tries to pull her up but Mother pushes him away right into the referee who falls down hard DTR shakes the shove off even more incensed as he goes over to Mother again, LOW BLOW. Massive low blow drops DTR as she pulls him up to his feet, a serene look on her face as she kisses his forehead softly, Goodnight Kiss. Mother signals for the end as she pulls DTR up to his feet and tries to lock in the Maternal Instinct, but DTR begins to fight out, landing several savage elbows to the gut but a massive headbutt takes the fight out of him as Mother gets the hold firmly locked in as the Virus begins to fade.

Suddenly however, the titantron plays and we see an image of Tyler Brooks, one of Mother’s children over his shoulder as he’s exiting the Schoolyard. The shock causes Mother to lose grip on the hold for a moment, RATTLER! DTR took advantage and landed his modified Stunner out of nowhere and this should be over but DTR has fury in his eyes as he mounts Mother again and begins laying in punch after punch, the referee coming too and seeing this tries to stop DTR again but the Virus shoves him off, and continues his assault. Finally having had enough, the referee calls for the bell, disqualifying the Virus. The sound of children singing nursery rhymes is heard but Mother looks nothing like a victor as the referee finally pulling DTR off the barely conscious Mother, her blood dripping down the Virus’s hands. Mother rolls to the outside, running to the backstage as DTR looks on enraged.

Whilst DTR pulls himself to his feet inside the ring, the saliva still dripping from his mouth after that enraged performance, the Titantron flickers and some weird Latin theme music plays us in.

“Welcome to Cookin’ with Master Chef!”

Rick Walker: “What the hell is this?”

Richard Roman: “I heard about this actually. It’s a new pre-taped segment that we’re told could become a monthly tradition.”

Rick Walker: “Well, DTR doesn’t look too impressed.”

Richard Roman: “I can’t imagine that’s going to get any better.”

The segment opens with Marvellous Master Chef in his kitchen cooking. The World Heavyweight Championship sits in a mess of food on the counter as he grabs his skillet and starts flipping it around.

Marvellous Master Chef: “Luncha Underground, welcome to the show mi amigo’s!”


Marvellous Master Chef: “Ever since last week when I served up Rattlesnake and it tasted like shit, tú todo have been askin’ me why! Why did you serve us such mierda Luncha Leader? Well let me tell you somethin’ perro’s, Marvellous Master Chef – The Gourmet Jesus, he doesn’t have to answer your questions.”

The fans boo again and by this point, that’s about standard as DTR looks on enraged.

Marvellous Master Chef: “But he will, just this once. Being that because of you putas, I’ve gotta feast on Rattlesnake again at CyberSLAM, I’ll let you in on a little secret – I knew after Flatline that I had to choose a side and amigo’s, I chose the right one. In this life, you have winners and you have losers and your Gourmet Jesus is a winner.”

He grabs a fork and pulls a piece of meat out of the frying pan and tastes it.

Marvellous Master Chef: “Dios, if that don’t taste like fried gold. Luncha Underground RISE UP, the LUCHADORE YOU ADORE is going to finish what he started at CyberSLAM. The Rattlesnake is going to get served and h’ordeuvred!”

“You’ve just been cookin’ wth Master Chef!”

Those final but similar words to the introduction play us out of the footage with a massive MMC grin. Meanwhile inside the ring, DTR kicks the bottom rope in frustration and demands a microphone from ringside.

DTR: “Enough! Cut the bullshit.”

The fans cheer.

DTR: “You can mock me all you want, Chef. You can talk your talk but last week you proved in this very ring that you can’t walk the walk. If you think you made the right decision joining up with The System then you’re mistaken. I know you’re back there and quite frankly, I’m through talking. I’m coming to find you!”

Open Your Eyes by Staind blares out one more time as DTR angrily heads backstage in pursuit of The World Heavyweight Champion.


Rick Walker: “I hope the Champ is somewhere safe, surrounded by security.”

Richard Roman: “No you don’t.”

Rick Walker: “You’re right! I hope he gets his ass kicked that weasel-like son of a bitch.”

The match begins with a lockup in the center of the ring where Rick Mad uses his size advantage to direct Brodasali to the corner. Once controlled, Mad lands a vicious shoulder block that stuns the Texas native before sending him to the opposite corner with an irish whip! Brodasali hits hard and stumbles out of the corner backwards where he’s met with a running drop kick from Mad! With both men on the canvas, Mad rolls Brodasali onto his back and goes for the cover. ONE … TWO … NO! Brodasali is able to kick out, but he is in trouble!

Mad pulls Brodasali to his feet AND Brodasali lands a big right hand! AGAIN! ANOTHER! KNEE lift from Brodasali and …

Suddenly, the arena lights dim and a series of deafening guitar riffs takeover the airwaves and allows “Meet the Monster” by Five Finger Death Punch to come to life. A lightshow of white strobes overtakes the entrance area a few seconds before the massive mountain muscle known simply as Smoke steps out of the back with a strong stride. The Baddest Asset stands with his head down among the flashing strobes.

♫ Can you read between the lines?
Or are you stuck in black and white?
Hope I’m on the list of people that you hate
It’s time you met the monster that you have helped create♫

The Bad News Bear lifts his head, shakes out his incredible arms while scanning the crowd before simply taking a seat on the entrance ramp. During the commotion, Rick Mad was able to take advantage of Brodasali’s attention being diverted to connect with a few elbows and execute a powerful german suplex! Mad goes for the cover. ONE … THAT is all he’ll get! Mad brings his opponent to his feet and NAILS him with a snap suplex! Mad back in total control! He’ll pull Brodasali from the canvas again andTHIS time is met with a double open palm slap to the ears!!

Mad is stunned and Brodasali is not letting him breath. What follows is a series of chops, kicks, and punches that result in a dazed Rick Mad. Mad scooped into the air AND BROUGHT DOWN hard onto the knee of Brodasali with a vicious shoulder breaker. Now it’s Brodasali with the cover. ONE … TWO … BUT Mad kicks out! Rick brought to his feet and sent to the ropes. Reversal into a short arm lariat and Mad goes to the canvas BUT BRODASALI MAINTAINS HIS GRIP! IT’S “THE RAGE”! Brodasali has Mad locked in “The Rage” and Mad can’t go long. BUT WAIT! Smoke stands to his feet and Brodasali sees it! Brodasali noticed movement out of Smoke on the entrance ramp and he has broken the hold. He’s watching Smoke very closely! He has to watch though because …MAD IS TO HIS FEET! Kick to the midsection from Mad and now … “MAD DDT”! “MAD DDT” and this one is over! ONE … TWO … THREE! Rick Mad picks up the victory and you have to wonder how things might be different had Smoke not shown up for the contest!!

The office of Errol Flint and The System have locked themselves away for the evening. When the scene opens, Jensen Cussen and Mike Lane appear to be arguing strategy ahead of their Tag Team Match tonight.

Mike Lane: “Look, I’ve got less ring rust than you and let’s face it, I’m the people’s choice out there.”

The people boo.

Jensen Cussen: “Yeah? It sounds like it. What makes you think that you’re the right person to start that match? Whoever gets in the ring first dictates the entire speed of the match. I’m the veteran, I’m The Mastermind-”

Mike Lane: “Give me a break with that shit, will ya? That’s all I’ve been hearing about for the past week is how you’re going to teach me a thing or two at CyberSLAM. How about I teach you a thing or two tonight?”

Both men get nose to nose before Master Chef finally squeezes himself between them. They both look down at him, their brows furrowed and unimpressed.

Marvellous Master Chef: “Jensen, Mikey, mi amigos, relax! You have to stop doin’ this to each other, not when there are bigger pendejo’s out there like DTR to worry about. Did you see what he said? He said he’s coming for the leader of the Luncha Underground! My Luncha’s are frightened for my safety!”

They both look at each other.

Mike Lane: “Alright, fine, we’ll get on the same page.”

Marvellous Master Chef: “That’s where I need you, amigo. I’ve gotta head out to that ring tonight and I need you guys to have my back. Just think about it, even you won’t win if you can’t fight together.”

Jensen takes a breath and puts his hand up, stopping The Champion in his tracks.

Jensen Cussen: “We get it, Chef. We’re united ahead of CyberSLAM and we have your back tonight. That’s a promise.”

All three men nod in agreement as the scene comes to a close, Jensen taking a sideways look at Mike Lane who doesn’t notice at all.

Staff members are rushing out of the way backstage as Mother angrily storms the corridor like a wraith, squealing at the top of her lungs.

Richard Roman: “Brooks has no idea what he’s doing to his mother – children never do.”

Rick Walker: “That’s not his actual mother, you idiot.”

Mother finally makes it to the arena exit and flings the door open, stepping outside into the early evening sunlight to see that Tyler Brooks and one of her children have vanished – all except a shoe.

Richard Roman: “Look at what he’s done.”

Rick Walker: “Never mind that, look at how angry she is.”

Mother bends down to pick up the shoe and angrily snaps it, enraged by the fact that Tyler Brooks has kidnapped one of her children. She breaks down into tears as the scene fades out, leaving her to mourn her loss.

Rick Walker: “This has gotten out of hand now. I don’t know what Mother’s obsession is with Tyler Brooks but tonight he hit her where it hurts.”

Richard Roman: “What about the children? Think of the children, Tyler! Think about your brother, the one you’ve kidnapped.”

Rick Walker: “You’re an idiot. I don’t condone what Tyler has done but after last week, after the stalking, he’s had to take extreme action.”

Richard Roman: “Do unto others, Rick.”

As Smoke and Crash begin their match, the difference in their styles is immediately apparent with the first exchange. Crash, just four inches shorter than Smoke but 100 pounds lighter bounces off the ropes to begin and flies at Smoke, who dips for a back body drop, but Crash rolls over the top of him with grace and style! Crash bounces off the other set of ropes and GOOD GOD WHAT A SPEAR BY SMOKE!!! Crash folds inward from the impact and the crowd gives a collective “OOF!” in response. Immediately Smoke drags Crash to the center of the ring and locks him in a camel clutch.

“Do you quit? Do you give up?” The referee asks while Crash is locked into the hold, but Crash screams “NO!” every time! Frustrated, or perhaps bored, Smoke breaks the hold and drags Crash to his feet, tossing him like a ragdoll outside of the ring! Smoke takes the opportunity to celebrate in the middle of the ring in the midst of his dominance……but Crash never hit the ground, did he? Dangling, holding onto the top rope, Crash pulls himself up. Smoke, mistaking the pop as the crowd enjoying his display of celebratory mannerisms, never sees Crash on the ring apron until he has already springboarded off the top rope,SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW TO SMOKE’S JAW! Crash stands up as Smoke staggers back, he quickly spins him around, CRASH CRUSH COMBO!!! GOD DAMN!!!

He makes the pin! 1… 2… 3—no, Smoke kicks out just in the niche of time. Smoke reaches his feet while Crash runs and bounces off the ropes again! CROSS BODY BLOC—NO, HOLY SHIT, SMOKE CAUGHT HIM IN MIDAIR!!! Smoke walks around the ring, holding Crash who squirms and fights to escape, but to no avail, because DADDY SLAM FROM SMOKE!!! Now it’s Smoke who makes the pinfall attempt! 1… 2… kickout by Crash! Smoke grabs a handful of Crash’s hair and drags him to his feet, A SUDDEN MONKEY FLIP FROM CRASH! NO! Smoke halts him with his strength alone, Crash now exposed with his back on the mat! SMOKE DROPS HIS KNEE RIGHT ON CRASH’S FACE!!! Another “OOF!” from the crowd. Suddenly, and with great force, he literally LIFTS Crash to his feet and whips him into the ropes! CHUMP BUSTER!!!!!! CHUMP BUSTER!!!!!!!! SMOKE MAKES THE COVER!!! 1… 2… 3!!!!!!!!!!!! “Meet the Monster” by Five Finger Death Punch hits the speakers, and the fans give Smoke a very warm and welcoming response!!! They love the monstrously violent man known as Smoke, and they let him know it as his hand is raised in victory.

After that amazing match between two phenomenal new upstarts here in the OSW, Crash gets back to his feet and HERE COMES MATT LENNOX WITH A STEEL CHAIR! Matt slides straight into the ring..

Rick Walker: “WATCH OUT CRASH!!”


Crash ducks the chair shot and runs full steam towards the corner, running up the turnbuckles and BACK FLIP OVER LENNOX!! SPINNING WHEEL KICK TO THE CHAIR!! CRASH NAILS HIM!!


Richard Roman: “What the hell!?”

He drops Lennox with the Head On Collision, kicking the steel chair directly in his face. He steps back and signals the Cannonball! The fans are on their feet as he hits the ropes and starts rolling, the entire audience shouting upon impact.



Rick Walker: “That one doesn’t even need commentating!”

Richard Roman: “That bastard just blindsided him!”

The General Lee of 1-2-3 pops back to his feet as the audience roar and World on Fire by Slash hits, sending him to the backstage with a smile on his face and some revenge in his pocket.

Rick Walker: “Lennox deserved that after his cheap shot last week, Richard.”

Richard Roman: “Don’t be so ridiculous. There was no call for that at all.”

The All-Star Championship glistens in all its glory, draped over a locker room bench. The camera pans out from a shot of the gold to see Isaiah Black taping his hands.


But when the camera widens, the boo’s intensify, because not only is there Isaiah Black but Marcus X. Both men stare each other down with intensity as the crowd reaction adds to the tension.

Marcus X: “Isaiah, I’d like to apologize..”

Black chuckles slightly.

Marcus X: “.. for my haste last week. I was angry that a black man such as yourself isn’t fighting for the struggles of our people when you have the ear of the white man. That title belt over there, it could bring everything together for us and our people. Give it to me, make me your Co-Champion and we will lift our people to great heights.”

The fans don’t like that suggestion as Isaiah walks over and grabs the All-Star Championship, holding it in the air.

Isaiah Black: “You want this?”

He laughs.

Isaiah Black: “This is meaningless to me; it’s nothing. It’s a symbol that people like you who don’t deserve it but want it, can’t have it. If you want it. here, take it.”

Black hands over the Championship as a smile hits Marcus X’ face like a ton of bricks. The Freedom Fighter reaches out to grab it but has it snatched away at the last minute by a laughing Isaiah Black.

Isaiah Black: “Weren’t you listening? I said you don’t deserve it. So if you want it that badly, for your glory and your cause, you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead fingers.”

Marcus X: “You’re going to regret this.. all of it. No-one stands in the way of our fight to freedom, not even the black man who pretends to be a white man.”

Furious with how he was just embarrassed, Marcus storms off and exits the locker room, leaving The Grim to focus on wrapping his hands with a smile on his face.

Richard Roman: “And these two are supposed to be partners tonight?”

Rick Walker: “It doesn’t bode well but how about the sheer audacity of Marcus X in asking Black to share his title?”

Richard Roman: “What’s wrong with that? Two Champions would be better than one.”

Rick Walker: “Unless one of them is ‘The Grim’, you mean?”

This one gets underway quickly with Merriweather attacking Colt as he slides into the ring. A series of boots to the back and neck region of “The Smokin’ Gun” distracts him, but it’s not enough to keep him down. Colt wills himself to his feet through the attack and responds with some shots of his own. A right jab! A left jab! Kick to the midsection and now a belly to belly suplex puts Merriweather on his back in agony. Both men stand to their feet and COLT nails a clothesline from hell that nearly takes Merriweather’s head off!

He won’t go for the pin. Instead, Colt moves in to apply the Texas Cloverleaf! Merriweather is in a ton of pain and his accompaniment on the outside are startled. “The First Class” is in trouble and they know it! Hold on a second! Edward is up on the canvas! He’s distracting the official and Stephen storms the ring! DOUBLE AXE HANDLE from Stephen AND IT DOESN’T EVEN PHASE COLT!! “The Smokin’ Gun” releases the hold and Stephen bails before the official can turn around! What a coward that man is! Colt .45 is staring a hole through Merriweather’s body guard!!

But he has to watch, because Merriweather is working to his feet. Merriweather up and LANDS a NO! Colt ducks and ATOMIC DROPsends Merriweather scrambling! Colt to the ropes and on the return! RUNNING FOREARM SMASH and Merriweather hits the mat again! Colt moves in for the cover! ONE … TWO … STEPHEN IS AT IT AGAIN! Stephen is up on the canvas and has distracted the official and got the attention of “The Smokin’ Gun”. “THE HEADSHOT”! “THE HEADSHOT” from Colt .45 to Stephen and he nearly knocked him through the barricade!! Merriweather to his feet AND COLT LANDS IT AGAIN! He goes for the cover. ONE … TWO … THREE! An IMPRESSIVE victory here tonight by Colt .45 in beating literally THREE men in order to get his hand raised!!

After that absolute battering by Colt 45, Lord Merriweather is helped back to his feet by a dazed pair of bodyguards. He demands a microphone from the referee who retrieves one, having it snatched from him almost instantly.

“YOU GOT YOUR ASS KICKED!” the fans chant, infuriating him with their unrelenting voices.

Lord Richard Merriweather: “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

The fans carry on – this time even louder.


Lord Richard Merriweather: “You people have no idea what you’re talking about! SILENCE!”

Rick Walker: “Well that’s not going to work.”

Richard Roman: “These people need to be quiet and give him the respect he deserves.”

That doesn’t work and the bodyguards trying to calm down the crowd only makes it worse.

Lord Richard Merriweather: “At CyberSLAM, I’m going to beat the La Fierté de Championnat de France!”


Lord Richard Merriweather: “And nothing will stop me from bringing the title home for England! You inbred maggots don’t deserve to be represented, just like the citizens of France and tonight, I’m going to prove to you why that is and what I’m fighting for. Roll the footage!”

The footage rolls.

England – merry old England.


Lord Richard Merriweather: “What on earth is going on!?”

The Titantron switches to the production room backstage where Professor Bordeaux is setting a lighter to a CD that clearly contains Merriweathers footage. Meanwhile in the ring, Richard is going nuts, angrily shaking the ropes.

Professor Nickedemus Bordeaux: “I don’t care for this nonsense and as the current La Fierté de Championnat de France, I should be respected and honoured by all; including my opponent. The foul stench flowing from your limey mouth is putrid enough to make this entire Schoolyard toxic. I won’t stand for that, Merriweather – this is my School and CLASS IS IN SESSION!”

He then reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a British flag hanky, blowing his nose of it.

Professor Nickedemus Bordeaux: “That’s what I think of your country, your threat and your chances of taking this Championship from around my perfect waist.”

Rick Walker: “This guy is disgusting and you know what? I hope they rip each other apart at CyberSLAM.”

Richard Roman: “It’s going to be a World War, Rick – say goodbye to the United States Championship!”

Bordeaux scoffs as the footage comes to an end, leaving Lord Merriweather enraged inside the ring.

We head to the curtain backstage where Matthew Cories and Captain One-Eyed Willy are standing in preparation for their match that’s up next. They’re not speaking and in actual fact, they refuse to even make eye contact with each other.


Rick Walker: “What the hell!?”

Richard Roman: “Who the hell is that!?”

Captain Willy suddenly flies forward into a pillar, startling Cories who turns around with wide eyes to see two bearded gentlemen standing there, ominously.

Rick Walker: “Who are these guys? I-I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

Richard Roman: “That one is Red River Jack, I’m sure of it. I have no idea about the other guy and Jesus, they’re unloading on Willy with right hands. Vicious, absolutely vicious.”

Cories is almost frozen to the spot as Jack right hands Willy so hard that he flies back into the corridor. Manson – his cohort, rushes in with a knee and clocks him upside the head, sending The Captain to the ground. Manson drops down into a mount and starts viciously beating the holy hell out of him with right hands.

Rick Walker: “Where’s Cories going? He’s leaving Willy high and dry.”

Richard Roman: “He doesn’t want anything to do with this, or the match.”

David Manson finally stands up, grabbing One-Eyed by the hair and pulling his head up so that Red River Jack, cigarette in mouth, can remove it and JESUS FUCKING CHRIST HE JUST JAMMED IT IN THE GOOD EYE OF WILLY!! JESUS CHRIST!!

The screams are blood curdling.


Richard Roman: “I’M GOING TO BE SICK.”

With The White Ranger backing away down the hall, both men drop the still screaming Captain One-Eyed Willy like a sack of shit, laughing to themselves as the scene fades back to a disturbed ringside, where the commentators and fans can’t believe what they’ve just seen.

Rick Walker: “I-I don’t even know what to say. That was..”

Richard Roman: “That was disgusting. They just burned a man’s eye, Rick. What the hell are these guys doing here?”

Rick Walker: “I don’t know and I really don’t want to find out. It looks like Matthew Cories and Captain One-Eyed Willy won’t be in our Tag Match that’s up next.”

Richard Roman: “The Hardcore Champion made the best decision possible here tonight; not only for his title, but for his life. I won’t be heard saying that often about this little nerd but had he stayed, only God knows what may of happened.”

With One-Eyed Willy being administered to backstage and Matthew Cories nowhere to be found, this match begins in confusion as Mike Lane and Jensen Cussen debate who should start in the ring. Their debate ends when Isaiah Black grabs both of them, slamming their heads together and ultimately knocking Lane to the outside. Desmond Cross takes it from there by catching Black by surprise and landing an impressive belly to back suplex for a quick cover. ONE … is all he’ll get as “The Grim” easily powers out of the pin. With Cross and Black grappling to their feet, Cussen takes advantage, climbing to the top rope and DELIVERING a huge cross body block that brings all three men to the canvas!

Cussen is quick to his feet and he’ll bring Black up with him. Cross; on the other hand, is crawling to his corner BUT FATE IS NOT THERE! Fate down off the canvas and is arguing with Mike Lane. Desmond Cross is IRATE! Cussen sends Black HARD into the corner with an irish whip, but it’s his own corner and MARCUS X MAKES A TAG! He slapped him on the back and Black wasn’t expecting it. He doesn’t look too happy about it either, but Marcus is in the ring and he’s ready. A BIG time clothesline to Cussen that nearly takes his head off. And now Marcus turns his attention to Cross, BUT CROSS IS THERE WITH A RUNNING SPEAR!!

Cross now will head to his corner again and after some choice words finally gets Fate tagged into the contest. Fate is into the ring with Marcus and Cussen both working to their feet. LEAPING elbow from Fate down into the skull of Jensen Cussen! And Fate catches Marcus X into a RUNNING ONE-HANDED BULLDOG! Fate moves in for the cover. ONE … TWO … NO! Marcus kicks out! Fate will pull Marcus to his feet and an irish whip SENDS him into the corner AND WHAT THE HELL!?! Isaiah Black just BLASTED Marcus X with the All-Star Title belt!!! Marcus X is out cold!

Fate moving in for the kill, but NO! CUSSEN has made a tag to Lane and Lane makes his first appearance by sprinting across the ring and NAILING Fate with a diving elbow! Fate is startled. Irish whip from Lane and Fate heads to the ropes! HE COLLIDES WITH DESMOND CROSS! Fate just knocked Cross off the canvas. Fate is stunned. Cross is down. Mike Lane takes advantage with anATOMIC DROP! That sends Fate RIGHT into the arms of Cussen! NO! Cussen holding Fate now. Lane winding up! AND FATE MOVES! OH MY GAWD! Mike Lane just nailed Cussen. FATE stumbles to Marcus X for the COVER! WAIT! LANE JUMPS ON TOP! ONE … TWO … THREE! WHAT IN THE HELL JUST HAPPENED? A DOUBLE PIN!?!

Desmond Cross has entered the ring as Lane hightails it to the outside. Cross ANGRILY pulls Fate off of Marcus X and starts hitting him! It’s a win for both The System, Cross and Fate! Unbelievable.

Rick Walker: “This one ain’t over Rich. Desmond is dragging Fate back to his feet”

Richard Roman: “All hell is about to break loose.”

Desmond slaps Fate across the face, following that up with a massive right hand that knocks him over the top rope. The fans are on their feet by now as Cross follows him to the outside, connecting with a knee to the gut. He connects with another, except Fate doesn’t take it lying down and BOUNCES HIS HEAD OFF THE BARRICADE!


Rick Walker: “Oh boy!”

Richard Roman: “Here comes Fate.”

Fate throws him over the barricade and into the crowd, battling away with him, both men testing right and left shots until Mr. Inevitable slams through the exit door at the back, almost knocking him down the stairs. Instead of that, Cross comes back with a knee, punching Fate so hard that he falls backwards up the stairs and these two men are brawling to the top level.

Rick Walker: “This can’t be good. These guys are fighting onto the top balcony now and OH MY GOD! DESMOND CROSS SLAMS HIM INTO THE CONCRETE RAIL!”



The fans echo that sentiment as Desmond somehow hangs on for dear life.

Rick Walker: “Fate isn’t finished! He’s going to finish the job right now.”

Fate storms over and is about to chop at his hands when security rush in and barely stop him in time. Some guards lean over to pull Desmond back over, as others hold back Fate and try to drag him away.

“LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!” the fans roar.

Rick Walker: “If security didn’t make it in time, this could of ended badly.”

Richard Roman: “These mercenary fans would’ve loved that!”

The locker room area backstage and Smoke is looking rather pleased with himself after a second victory here tonight. He semi-struts down the corridor and enters the bathroom, except his coolness manages to evade him when he falls FLAT.ON.HIS.FACE.

Richard Roman: “Bahahahaha, whoops-a-daisy!”

Smoke sits up and looks at his now broken glasses, a glare coming across his face that we’ve yet to see.

The tripwire now visible.

It only gets worse when Brodasali pops his head around the corner in a fit of laughter.

Brodasali: “Hahahaha! Are you okay? You should of seen it, man. You went butt over breast and believe me, those are some pretty big breasts.”

He points to Smoke’s chest and by now, he’s figuratively fuming.

Brodasali: “I’ve been waiting for what seems like forever for you to come along. How long does it take a man to need the toilet, huh? After you cost me my match tonight, I thought the least I could do is return the favour with a little prank.”

Smoke stands up, his aggression rising.

Smoke: “You broke… my glasses.”

Brodasali gulps.

Brodasali: “Okay Johnny Cage, relax will ya? I didn’t mean to. I’ll buy you a new pair and have them for you by this time next week. I’ll hand deliver them personally, okay?”

Smoke looks like he’s about to snap but instead, takes a deep breath and walks away, somehow leaving Brodasali standing in one piece.

Brodasali: “Damn, he didn’t like that did he? HEY! WAIT! I FORGOT TO ASK YOU.. HOW WAS YOUR TRIP?”

Suddenly Smoke’s composure has left him and he storms back down the corridor KNOCKING BRODASALI OUT OF HIS BOOTS WITH A GIANT SPEAR! JESUS CHRIST HE HIT HIM LIKE A BULL!


Richard Roman: “Chump… BUSTED!”

The Bad News Bear gets back to his feet and dusts himself off, throwing his trademark glasses down onto the broken body of Brodasali.

Smoke: “Next week, chump. Next week or I make this look like a party.”

He slowly walks off as the camera zooms in on Brodasali, holding his ribs in agony.

The bell rings and the two OSW Champions circle each other. The Chef takes the early advantage by going right after the leg of Bordeaux but he’s able to get out of the way. The Professor gets close to the ropes only to realize that both Mike Lane and Jensen Cussen are going after him like they’re sharks. While The Professor is distracted, the Chef charges at him and slams him into the corner with a huge running dropkick that drives him into the turnbuckle. The Chef lifts Bordeaux up onto the turnbuckle.

The Chef goes up after the Professor but is distracted as he notices Lane and Cussen arguing on the outside. The Chef takes his eye off the prize for one minute and the Professor sends him flying off the top rope. The Professor measures Chef waiting for him to get to his feet and he jumps off toward him with a cross body, the momentum takes both men down but The Chef holds on, rolling out and into a standing position, the crowd pops at the strength by the Chef, fall-a-way slam sends the Professor down to the canvas.

After the fall-a-way slam, Bordeaux almost goes about no selling as he pops right back to his feet. Running shoulder tackle by Bordeaux sending the Chef to the canvas. Professor grabs the Chef and gets him in position for The Early Dismissal. As he’s about to connect with the finisher he catches Edward and Stephen, Lord Merriweather’s goons. They distract him enough as they jump on the apron and Bordeaux chases them off. He turns around only to be met with CRÈME BRULE!!! Blinding the Professor. MMC follows up quickly with The Kitchen Sink. It’s academic from here. One….Two…..Three. MMC wins tonight with help from the distraction by Merriweather’s goons.

With the match over, Master Chef demands that Mike Lane and Jensen Cussen enter the ring, watching with disgust as they do. He’s yelling at them in Spanish, telling them how stupid they are and how they almost cost him the match.

Suddenly the opening riff from “Open Your Eyes” blares throughout the arena, the lights strobe along to the music. Dave steps out from behind the curtain with a look on his face that could paint a thousand pictures.

And The World Champion? He looks terrified.

DTR storms the ring and slides in, going straight after Jensen Cussen with a steel chair, NAILING HIM! Chef hightails to the outside as Lane LEAPS WITH A SUPERKICK!! NO!! DTR DUCKS! CHAIR SHOT TO THE PEOPLE’S CHOICE!!



“D… T… R!”

“D… T… R!”

The Rattlesnake heads to the outside and grabs a gas can from under the ring, looking at it as the fans roar.


Rick Walker: “No, Dave, please don’t.”

Richard Roman: “Jensen Cussen wanted The Virus, Rick. They wanted him, didn’t they? Oh no.. please..”

He starts pouring it all over Cussen and Lane, soaking them in it. He grabs a set of matches from his pocket and looks at them, debating whether or not to take that final step into oblivion.

He waits.

He pauses.

And he walks away. The fans don’t like it but DTR walks away, reluctantly, making his way to the back having almost lost it here tonight.

Rick Walker: “He was so close to losing it, Rich. I don’t think DTR can take much more of this.”

Richard Roman: “He should be fired! He should be banished and put in jail! That guy is a monster!”

Colt .45 is walking backstage with a purpose, entering the office of Errol Flint. The Chairman has hardly been seen tonight and must be keeping a low profile because when Colt walks in, he seems surprised.

Colt .45: “Flint, where ya been hidin’ all night long, eh? I need a little somethin’ from ya, son.”

The Chairman cuts him off.

Errol Flint: “I know what you’re going to ask.”

Colt seems surprised.

Errol Flint: “And let me tell you, you’re not the first and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

Colt .45: “Then ya know I want that mealy mouthed son of a bitch Isaiah Black and I want him fer the title at CyberSLAM!”

Rick Mad then suddenly enters from the bathroom, washing his hands on a towel.

Rick Mad: “Thanks for that. I wouldn’t go in there for about, oh I don’t know, an hour or so?”

Colt quickly gets defensive and in Mad’s face.

Errol Flint: “Now hold on a second gentlemen. I know there’s some animosity between you after what happened last week but I’ve got a solution to both your problems. Rick, you want Isaiah Black for the title, correct?”

Rick Mad: “Is Colt a redneck?”

That struck a chord with The Smokin’ Gun who steps forward only for the voice of Flint to stop him.

Errol Flint: “And you, Colt, you want a match with Isaiah Black for the title as well. Well let me ask you this, how would you feel getting your hands on each other as well? Because what I’m going to do, since Marcus X was in here earlier as well, is make a title match for CyberSLAM. It’ll be Isaiah Black defending his title against Marcus X, Colt .45 and Rick Mad.”

Colt .45: “You damn right it is, son. Rick, boy, I’m going to whoop your ass like a government mule. You think you can bad mouth ol’ Colt .45 and ain’t no-one gonna say a damn thing about it? Well get ready, cause I’m gunnin’ for ya!”

The Smoking Gun turns around and storms out, leaving Rick to hand Flint the towel with a wink and follow him to the exit.

Rick Walker: “What a match!”

Richard Roman: “Isaiah Black is N OT going to like this.”

Paloma Ruiz: “The following match is our Main Event of the evening!”


The sound of “Chariots of Fire” by Vangelis is heard throughout the arena, prompting the crowd to rise to their feet with a roar of excitement as the lights slowly begin to dim. Suddenly red, white, and blue pyrotechnic effects begin to explode from the base of the entrance ramp that last several seconds before “The Enforcer” Brent Kersh appears on the upper portion of the structure.

Rick Walker: “The fans here tonight are ready for it. Brent Kersh is coming out to a standing ovation in what could be his swan song.”

Richard Roman: “Could be? He’s stepping into an Inferno with The Scarecrow.”

The OSW superstar steps out onto the steel stage with his hands on his hips and looking around the arena in appreciation of the response from the crowd. Kersh is wearing a loose fitting black tee shirt embroidered with the letters “OSW” and soaked in sweat. In addition, “The Enforcer” is wearing his traditional wrestling attire of black tights, boots, kneepads, kneebraces, and white tape wrapped tightly around his wrists.

Paloma Ruiz: “Introducing first, from Beaumont Texas, weighing in at 225lbs… ‘THE ENFORCER’… BRENT.. KERSH!”

As the colorful collage of sparks begin to die down, Kersh begins his approach to the ring. Maintaining a calm and collected mannerism, Brent moves back and forth from one side of the walkway to the other, slapping hands with the fans lining the security railing. Once the professional wrestler gets to within several feet of the ring apron, he sprints the remaining distance — sliding under the bottom rope and coming to his feet in the middle of the ring. The OSW superstar lifts both hands into the air as he manoeuvres his way around the ring.

Rick Walker: “I’m afraid for him, Double R. He’s a valiant and experienced veteran of this business but this rage he has for Scarecrow could see him meet his end here tonight. Those flames aren’t going to be fake, they’re real and one bad burn could set a career back years.”

Richard Roman: “And Brent doesn’t have years left, does he? Is that what you’re saying? Let’s talk about Scarecrow.”

The arena is suddenly thrust into darkness as the sounds of squawking crows can be heard.

Rick Walker: “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Richard Roman: “I can’t see a fucking thing man.”

They flutter away and the lights turn back on, revealing the Scarecrow standing in the middle of the ring, his arms spread and his head lowered.

Paloma Ruiz daren’t attempt to introduce the Scarecrow as the lights dim once again, this time to a mild darkness so that the flames can be lit.

WHOOSH! The flames rise and The Scarecrow awakens.

Rick Walker: “It’s time folks, it’s time for the first ever Inferno Match.”

Richard Roman: “My god that’s hot. I’m already sweating out here, Rick.”

The bell sounds and both men STORM ACROSS THE RING! They start slugging it out, right hands, thrusting uppercuts, until Scarecrow finally takes Kersh back into the corner and turns those thrusting uppercuts into solid right hands. He drags him straight out and SIDEWALK SLAM! WHAM! The fans boo but The Hayman ignores it, getting straight back to his feet and reaching down for the head of Kersh, receiving a big old right hand to the gut for his trouble. That doesn’t seem to affect him though as he pulls The Enforcer up and whips him into the ropes. WHOOSH! The flames rise high and towards the top rope after Kersh leaves, barely missing him. That must’ve had an effect on Brent though because he ducks a massive Clothesline attempt, scooping Scarecrow up and down with a Powerslam! WHOOSH!

He knows exactly what he has to do and starts stomping Scarecrow towards the ropes, leveraging himself using the top to try and kick him under and into the flames. The Hayman though fights back, his leg and hand pressed against the rope to stop it. He finally elbows backwards, connecting with the knee of Brent and that gives him a reprieve. The commentators mention how this is a fight, not a wrestling match and how right they are – Kersh dropping down to mount Scarecrow and beat the holy hell out of him! Right hands thrust away at his skull, pummelling away until WHOOSH! The flames rise again, though this time it’s uncomfortably close to The Enforcer and he falls backwards, off of Scarecrow and to the canvas.

The Scarecrow is slowly getting back to his feet, as is Brent Kersh and they meet again, Scarecrow whipping him into the corner and following with a giant Big Boot that sends him over the top rope, foot first! His leg dangles towards the flame and Brent is quick to attack him from behind with right hands, clubbing at his back. Scarecrow elbows out again, sending Kersh stumbling backwards holding his face and recovers, pulling his leg from outside to inside and turning around to catch The Enforcer with aGIANT CLOTHESLINE!! WHOOSH!! The Hayman is slowly back to his feet, this time grabbing Brent by the arm and dragging him over to the flames. The Hayman is slowly back to his feet, this time grabbing Brent by the arm and dragging him over to the flames. HE’S TRYING TO SET HIS ARM ON FIRE!! Brent swivels almost as soon as he felt the lick of fire and KICKS SCARECROW FROM THE GROUND THROUGH THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE! WHOOSH! THAT BARELY MISSED HIM! OH MY GOD!!

The Hayman ends up on the outside looking back into the ring as Brent Kersh climbs the top turnbuckle. Rick Walker begs him not to do it, but he doesn’t listen and SET’S FLY TO THE OUTSIDE WITH A DOUBLE AXE HANDLE!! NOOO!! THE SCARECROW CAUGHT HIM WITH A CHOKE! A MASSIVE HAND RIGHT AROUND HIS THROAT! JESUS CHRIST!! THE HARVESTER!! CHOKESLAM THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! OH MY FUCKING GOD! BRENT KERSH MUST BE BROKEN IN HALF DAMNIT!! The table has flattened into smithereens as both commentators barely escape. The Scarecrow stands tall now, hearing the crowd boo and hiss at him as he watches the fire WHOOSH into the air one more time!



Richard Roman: “SOMEBODY PUT HIM OUT!”

The Hayman burns at ringside as the backstage staff rush to his aid. He won’t let them help him though and starts swinging for them, waving fiery arms at anyone who dares to approach




The lights finally return.

And there’s nothing.

Nothing but cinders, ash, burnt hay and what’s left of The Scarecrows jacket and hat.

Brent Kersh kneels down amongst the ash, grabbing what’s left of the hat and looking at it. The fans don’t know what to make of it, watching as The Enforcer sits amongst the ash, remaining hay and ciders, an expression of focus upon his face.

Rick Walker: “I can’t believe it – he’s.. he’s gone..”

Richard Roman: “I don’t know what to say. The Scarecrow just burned up in front of us, folks. It’s disturbing, it’s terrifying, it’s almost unreal but all that’s left of the Hayman is that pile of ash and clothing on the floor.”

Rick Walker: “Brent Kersh did it, man, he did it. He won the Inferno Match and ended this reign of terror by The Scarecrow but at what cost to himself. What has he lost?”

Richard Roman: “I don’t know Rick, I just don’t know.”

The show fades out with a final shot of the dust pile and Brent Kersh kneeling with it.