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Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.

We open with an absolute panic. Medical staff are running back and forth like lunatics, searching for equipment and materials that’ll help them. Meanwhile, Zeus lays on a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of his arm and a flustered look upon his face.

“All this is unnecessary,” he claims, sitting up on the bed.

“Sir, please let us take care of you,” one of the nurses replies. “You’re the most important man in the world. We need to run tests and make sure you’re okay.”

He rolls his eyes as Ares walks in.

Olympus is fine; we’ve ran through it with a fine tooth comb. Hephaestus has built a new ring and there’ll be no disruption to CLASH. Do you remember what happened?” The Bodyguard asks.

Doom saved me,” Zeus replies with a tilt of the head. “He deployed a protective bubble that protected us both.”

“That explains the casualties,” Ares confirms. “Those who touched the bubble were electrocuted. We had to remove the rubble from around it before Doom would release it.”

The Baron shrugs nonchalantly.

“Good. Put him on the list, won’t you? I owe Dr. Doom a great deal,” Zeus reminds Ares. “Now, I must rest.”

Instead of walking away, Ares comes closer.

Who did this, Zeus?” He asks carefully. “Was it Caesar?

Zeus doesn’t say anything; he just shakes his head.

“We need to find the person responsible and put an end to this,” Ares protests against the backdrop of silence. “Who did this?

Again, Zeus says nothing.

“You know, don’t you?” Ares probes.

Again, nothing.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he says finally. “And if you want to tell me who we need to go after, then I’m all ears. I’ve put a protective detail on the doors whilst you’re assessed here in Medbay.”

Zeus nods.




One half of the tag champs is in action tonight as Kpavio takes on Draco Deville!

Kpavio starts the action marching towards Deville— DROP TOE HOLD INTO THE BOTTOM TURNBUCKLE BY DEVILLE! Kpavio’s skull is ringing from the impact, and Deville capitalizes by wrapping his arm around Kpavio’s neck and torquing backwards with a dragon sleeper— CTHULU CLUTCH!! But Kpavio overpowers Deville, gets to his feet and lawndarts him into the top turnbuckle!

Deville gets himself vertical in the corner and Kpavio unleashes a barrage of heavy punches to the face and kicks to the gut that drops Deville to a seated position. Kpavio sticks his boot in Deville’s throat, choking the air out of him until the ref breaks it at five!

Kpavio signals for the end as Deville catches his breath. Kpavio pins Deville arm to his leg and goes to package up the other side but Deville turns out and pulls himself by the arm back at Kpavio and drills him with a jumping knee to the face!

Kpavio is stunned on his feet and Deville grabs Kpavio by his skull and twists it around— NECKBREAKER INTO A SPIN-OUT CUTTER!!! DEVILLE’S DUE!!! Deville looks like he’s shocked at what he just managed to do to his adversary! Cover— ONE! TWO!! THAT’S IT!! THREE!!!

The Shopkeeper gets his due with a big victory over the Skull tonight!



In a darkened room somewhere in the slums, an Asian man sits tied to a chair, bleeding from a cut on his lip. The Red Hood sits on a chair opposite, cleaning the blood from his gloves with a dirty rag.

“You stole a weapons cache from Zeus,” Hood continues. “That’s why you’re here, Jiro; that’s why you sit bleeding in front of me.”

No, I sit bleeding in front of you because you demand to know where I hid it,” Jiro responds through gritted teeth and pain.

“And you refuse to tell me,” Red reminds him.

Jiro smiles through bloodied teeth.

“Why would I give you my only leverage?” He asks.

The Red Hood stands up, waving to Smee who walks in and grabs Jiro using a long neck collar with a handle.

“I’m gonna dump you in Deathrow, Jiro. Let’s see if that changes your mind, shall we? Until you tell me what I want to know, you can fight for your life down there. First though, I have a friend or two that would like to meet with you.”

Smee takes Jiro away, guiding him out of the room.

Just then, from the shadows steps another man with long hair, swigging from a bottle of whisky.

“We need him to talk,” the man says, taking a drink.

“I know, Prometheus,” Hood says sternly. “And I’d suggest you go find C.J Thorpe and see if the boy remembers any of his interrogation techniques from the A.P.D. Pick up someone a little more… violent, as well.”

Prometheus nods.

“The best way may be in the ring, you know that don’t you?” The Red Hood asks, looking up at Prometheus who smiles.

“I don’t give a fuck about freedom, Hood. Zeus threw me down here to rot and die many years ago; there’s levels of Arcadia that are nothing but char because of me. There is no freedom by your or his hand, believe me.”

“So, you won’t fight?” Hood enquires.

“Oh no, I’ll fucking fight,” Prometheus says with a smirk. “What else is there to do?”



Don’t be late!

A few stragglers rush to get into the show, all running around a group of individuals meandering towards the entrance.

The Third Eye.

With Vision at their head, the group slowly marches towards the entrance. Vision has not stepped foot in Olympus yet.


Tonight, he has chosen to finally enter the fray of OSW.

But another group stands in front of the doorway.

At their head is a familiar sight.


Led by his staff, Vision approaches the Watcher.

“Come to finish the job?” Grimskull growls, his followers becoming more agitated.

“If I wished you harm, you wouldn’t be standing here.” Vision replies. “I have heard of this attack on you from one bearing the mark of the Third Eye.”

With a nod, one of Vision’s followers comes forward to present something to Grimskull.

A chisel.

“I have many of these.” Grimskull chuckles. “Instruments of pain are my domain, blind one.”

“Ah,” Vision says with a smile. “The Third Eye sees what you cannot. Your attacker chose to assault you with a steel chair. I would not have used such a blunt weapon, old friend.”

His smile turns into a sneer.

“No, for you I chose a more delicate weapon. One that will slowly whittle away all that you are. Just as you do to those who follow you. Then when you at last beg for mercy, I will do as you did to those who you called weak.”

Pause. He doesn’t need to finish that sentence.

Vision changes tactic, broadly sweeping his arms around him.

“Someone is trying to sow discord among our followers. I would like to know who it is.”

The Preacher eyes Vision cautiously.

“As would I, old friend.” He says, returning the mocking tone he was addressed with. “I do not need your help, as those without eyes cannot see.”

He pauses.

“Yet there is a strange way about you, Vision.”

The two men seem to have reached a silent agreement.

“Then let’s proceed.” Vision responds after a moment.




Two true titans clash tonight- which man will prove dominant?

The two men lock horns, pushing each other back and forth to determine who is stronger. Miraculously, Burned Man backs the bigger Curze into the ropes and relinquishes his grip before the five count. GUT KICK BY CURZE! FOLLOWS UP WITH A BIG RIGHT HAND TO THE HEAD!

Curze whips Burned Man into the ropes and on the rebound levels the Arcadian Mummy with a discus lariat— THE BLEAK’S BLADE!! Curze taunts with a prayer position then tucks Burned man between his legs. He lifts him up into a crucifix— BUT BURNED MAN SLIPS OUT! He grapples Curze from behind…

HALF NELSON SUPLEX! Burned Man rolls Curze through— ANOTHER HALF NELSON SUPLEX!! ASHES TO ASHES!! He rolls through again, looking for a third—

BACK ELBOW BY CURZE! Burned Man stumbles back and Curze whips him into the ropes again. On the rebound Burned Man runs right into a big boot!

Burned man is rattled and Curze scoops him up… but he slips out and behind Curze and latches onto him out of desperation— CROSSFACE CHICKENWING!! ETERNAL BURNING!! Curze steps towards the ropes but Burned Man grapevines and takes Curze down to the mat— AND CURZE TAPS OUT!!!

The Burned Man wrapped up Mannfred and made him feel the burn, getting the big win!



A sign with gold lettering welcomes us to Deville’s Curiosities. Inside, the shelves are stacked to the rafters with all manner of trinkets, gadgets, and other items.

People mill about the place, looking for that one perfect thing to make their dreams come true. They know it’s in here.

It always is.

But what will it cost them.

Draco Deville himself is busy at the cash register talking with a scruffy white guy with long black hair and a studded leather jacket.

“And you’re sure I’ll get what I need here?” says the man through pointed teeth.

It’s Blacktooth.

“Of course. He’ll be able to give you exactly what you need, but it will of course come at a price. And I will take my own pound of flesh for providing you with a way in.”

Blacktooth stares at him.

“I should teach you a lesson for taking advantage of me. But the truth is if this works out then it will all have been worth it anyway.”

Blacktooth takes a bag and tips the contents onto the cash register. It’s a significant amount of credits.

“Now,” Blacktooth states, matter-of-factly. “Give me the address.”

“Of course,” says Draco. “Here it is.”

He drops a note on the cash register.

“We here at Deville’s Curiosities thank you for your custom.”

Blacktooth leaves the shop, leaving Draco to tend to one of his other customers.


   “THE GUT”   


Drewitt awakens from a brief slumber with sweat dripping down the inside of his mask. This isn’t the first bad dream he’s had since meeting Teddy O’Toole; in fact, there have been a few. He sits up and takes a breath, just as the aforementioned Candy Man rounds the corner.

“Are we ready to go?” He asks chipperly. “The Groves await, my dearest associate!”

“Listen, somethin’ ain’t right,” Drewitt responds, standing to meet him. “I’ve been dreamin’ of The Groves since you offered me the job. Somethin’ bad is down there, I can feel it in my gut. I always trust my gut, Ted.”

The Candy Man shrugs, slipping his hand deeper into his jacket and pulling out a relatively large bag of credits.

“How would your gut feel with a few more credits on the hip?” He asks, tossing him the brown tied up bag. “I’m sure danger is plentiful down there, but that’s why I’m taking the best guide in Arcadia.”

Drewitt looks inside the bag and nods.

“If you wanna do this, then we gotta do it right. We need to go somewhere first and make sure that what you’re lookin’ for even exists down there,” The Explorer says.

“Very well,” shrugs O’Toole. “Meet me at the Ol’ Factory tomorrow and we’ll go wherever you want to go. Out of curiosity, old pal, where exactly are we going?”

“The Library,” Drewitt says with a nod. “The only place that’ll tell us if the root grows in The Groves, for sure. If it’s there, someone would’ve documented it.”

“A wonderful idea,” O’Toole says with a toothy smile. “That’s exactly why I pay you, my good man; that and to protect my ingenious creative mind from danger of course.”

“Naturally,” The Explorer responds. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”




Two artists will make a beautiful creation as their styles clash tonight!

The bell rings and Narcissa immediately bolts at Redgrave, grappling him and gouging his eyes as she takes him down a swift motion with an STO— EYE OF THE BEHOLDER!! She continues the eye gouge on the mat before the ref forces her to break before the five count!

As Jasper gets to his feet he catches Narcissa off guard with a massive superkick out of nowhere that projects her into the ropes and on the rebound Jasper hits her with a high velocity spinning back elbow— COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE!! Jasper goes for the cover— ONE! HEEL ON THE ROPES!

Jasper manhandles Narcissa, hoisting her on the middle rope and locking her head in his arm— BLOOD ON THE CANVAS?? NO!! Narcissa slips out of the rope hung DDT, weaving through the ropes like a thread and needle and tangling Jasper in them— TARANTULA!! WEFT AND WARP!! But she’s forced to break at five again…

Narcissa stands over Jasper, taunting him by conducting a symphony to the crowd. She hooks both arms— IS SYMPHONY OF SYMMETRY THE LATEST TREND??? NO!!! Jasper spins out and punts her in the gut! Double underhook of his own— PEDIGREE!!! SYMPHONY OF SYMMETRY!!! He hooks her leg— ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!

Abstract art trumps high fashion as Redgrave emerges victorious!



Previously Recorded.

The night of Olympus.

We find Destructo Boy watching the commotion going on in the ring from a monitor backstage, eyes wide as Olympus falls! He goes to run, to help, but a hand on his shoulder pulls him back from going onto the ramp.

The Burned Man.

“I wouldn’t go out there, kid.” His raspy voice is low, barely heard over the commotion on the monitor as Destructo Boy pulls against his grasp, yanking his arm free and turning to face the mummy, scowling.

“What!? People out there could have died, they need help.” Destructo Boy goes to run again but The Burned Man grabs his shirt again, yanking him back and shaking his head only for the young hero to shove him away! Burned Man, however, stands stoically and shakes his head.

“You’re admirable, boy, you are. They don’t need you, and the only ones who may have perished are a villain and a baron,” he says, looming over the young hero with a sense of determination to his voice. “Why would you try and brave those flames for a tyrant and a madman?”

James looks back at the monitor, fists clenched tightly around his weapon before he looks back at the man now standing in his way. “We don’t need to let them die, if they’re going to be punished for their actions it shouldn’t be death! Killing doesn’t do anything, letting people die doesn’t do anything. A hero has to be willing to save people, even when he thinks those people don’t deserve it.”

“Kid,” a sigh slips out of The Burned Man’s mouth, taking a deep breath as he looks him in the eyes. “I’m living proof that sometimes it’s kinder just to let someone die.” Those words clearly hit like a truck as Destructo Boy listens to them. The Burned Man turns to leave, letting those words hang in the air.

Destructo Boy, meanwhile, watching the monitor, begrudgingly leaving soon after as he sees a plethora of men storm the ring to help in the aftermath.



Deathsong clashes with the Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing tonight!

Tie up collar and elbow. Wolfe pulls Mariachi in tight and applies a side headlock. Mariachi backs Wolfe into the ropes and whips him across the ring. Off the rebound Wolfe takes Mariachi chest-first down to the mat by the arm and wrenches in a deep Fujiwara armbar— PER PRAETENDE!!

Mariachi is in trouble early here, clawing his way towards the ropes and just as he gets close Wolfe floats over and transitions into a bulldog choke-enhanced regal stretch— CAPTI CHOKE!! But Mariachi out of desperation manages to reverse momentum, rolling Wolfe’s legs back into a pin— ONE! TWO!! KICKOUT!!

Mariachi comes up holding his shoulder and Wolfe immediately runs at him with a shoulder tackle, but he runs right into Mariachi’s clutches— OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY TOSS!! WHISKEY LULLABY!! Wolfe pops right back up and throws a lariat at Mariachi who ducks it and catches Wolfe into a pumphandle half nelson driver— IN THE END!!

Mariachi has Wolfe pinned— ONE! TWO!! KICKOUT!! Mariachi points to the top rope. “¡Órale!” He shouts and the crowd calls it back to him as he jumps atop it, tossing a rose onto Wolfe— DOUBLE FOOT STOMP CONNECTS!! 48 ROSES!! Cover— ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!

Play a victory song, because Deathsong triumphs tonight!



With the match over, Damien Wolfe gets back to his feet. He’s still looking a little shaky, as you’d expect. That was also one hell of a match. He retrieves a microphone and immediately makes a call for Felix.

“Felix!” He roars out into the crowd. “I know you’re back there. Please, come on out here right now. I’ve signed off your application!”

The crowd roars in approval as “Felix Foley’s Funhouse Theme” by The Funhouse Band plays out into Olympus. Green strobe lights flash as Felix steps out and waves at his adoring fans. He has a microphone in his hand and starts walking towards the stage.

The music slowly fades away.

“You’ve signed off my application, Mr. Wolfe?” He asks nervously, walking up the steps.

“I looked into the charges against you of being a member of the Uprising and saw that they were dropped upon investigation,” he admits.

Felix enters the ring, all smiles.

“Therefore, I’m delighted to announce that your application for reinstatement of Foley’s Funhouse has been agreed and accepted,” Damien offers with a fake smile. “There is unfortunately, one condition.”

Foley looks confused.

Felix Foley’s Funhouse must take place here, in Olympus,” he announces. “Right here, in fact, in this very ring.”

That surprises Foley.

“And Mr. Zeus is okay with that?” He queries.

Wolfe nods.

“Are we okay now, Mr. Foley?” Damien asks sincerely; almost dripping with fear. “Are we okay?

Felix doesn’t understand, he just shrugs.

“Wonderful,” The Conservator says nervously.


Red lights suddenly begin surrounding the ring. Wolfe immediately takes off, making a b-line through the middle ropes of the ring and landing on his feet outside it. As a red spotlight appears above his head, he literally dives off the stage into the crowd.


He falls flat on his face, smashing his nose and glasses into the floor as the crowd move aside and let him fall.

The lights come back on, revealing a terrified Damien Wolfe laid flat on his stomach, nose bloodied, turning over to look back at Foley with fear.



The Gallery.

Home of the many works of art belonging to Jasper Redgrave, it is not the Artist we find ourselves looking at…but rather, El Mariachi Muerte and Dr. Death.

And there is something…different about the latter.

Dressed in a black mask and tights adorned with his visage, Dr. Death cuts a very different figure. Whether the song of El Mariachi Muerte has brought him to this new attitude, or simply the influence of a new ally, remains to be seen…but what is plain is that this alliance has found its way to Jasper’s natural habitat.

“Every artist has his canvas to paint upon,” Death says, a hushed tone so as to not draw attention to himself as he gets a glimpse from a distance of Jasper begin his latest work of art…a hapless victim whose screams nearly drown out the conversation at hand.

“Just as every song can be written to sheet music,” replies Muerte, his gaze fixed upon the violence being conducted afar. We soon see the precise instrument of the Artist’s work, as Redgrave brandishes a hacksaw…much to the terror of his victim, who squirms in an attempt to escape as the duo of death look on in fascination.

“What precision,” Death says, a sense of glee in his voice as he watches the manner in which Redgrave takes the hacksaw to the arm of his victim, who screams in agony…a tune that seems to perk up the ears of the Singing Death as he chimes in.

“What a tune, amigo. He truly is an artist.”

The pair continue their study of the work in progress, until the Artist takes a pause. Setting the hacksaw down on a nearby table, Jasper whispers something into the ear of his victim before hastily making an exit, confusing the duo of death as they look to each other to make sense of what they’ve just witnessed.

“What would call an artist away from his work?” wonders the Doc de la Muerte, to which his compatriot simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Whatever it may be, we should look to explore this place more at the lugar y tiempo adecuado.”

The doctor nods his head in agreement with the statement, responding back in kind.

“The proper place and time.”




An air of tension lingers heavy in the midst of this trios contest, as Caesar XL, Colt Ramsey, and Drexl take on Blacktooth, Vision, and Grimskull!

We start things off with Caesar telling Ramsey to get in the ring to deal with Blacktooth waiting across from them. The Journo argues with XL, giving the Devil of the Rot an opening to blindside Ramsey from behind, absolutely pummeling him with hard lefts and rights to the back!

Ramsey makes it back to his feet, but Blacktooth stays on the attack until he’s shoved toward the ropes, giving Ramsey a chance to turn things around with a neckbreaker that sends the Devil down hard to the canvas! Ramsey’s back up, but is slapped on the back by Caesar!

That’s a blind tag bringing in Papa Dinero, who smirks as he brings Blacktooth to his feet…but the Devil shoves himself against the legs of XL, dropping the big man off his feet to the canvas! Drexl runs in, making a beeline for Blacktooth…but he gets cut off by Grimskull!

Vision sneaks a tag from Blacktooth in the chaos, as Ramsey tries to intervene…but Grimskull flies at the photographer, sending both men to the outside! XL turns his attention to Blacktooth…but is caught with a double-knee facebuster by Vision instead! THIRD EYE BLINDED! Vision makes the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!

As the dust settles on the chaotic bout, it’s Blacktooth, Vision, and Grimskull that come away with a victory!



With the match over, tensions are boiling. Caesar XL and Colt Ramsey immediately get in each other’s faces, the latter standing on tip toes to jaw at the former.

Suddenly, gas begins filling the ring.

Both men cough, splutter and choke as they stumble backwards and around, trying to escape the smoke that now fills the entire area.

Before long, they drop.

They both drop.

Colt Ramsey and Caesar XL collapse, fading into unconsciousness in the middle of the ring.

That’s when the OSW World Champion appears, wearing a gas mask and standing over the two fallen men.

“Goodnight, gentlemen,” Stubbins says carefully. “When you awake, we’ll have a nice little chat about how Mount Olympus blew up and yours truly was almost buried beneath it.”

With that said, both men lose consciousness.

“Until then, enjoy your sleep.”

He motions for his minions to come along and grab the bodies, pulling both Caesar and Ramsey from the ring and escorting them away.




A Doctor and a Candy Man walk into a ring… one of these two is going to walk away with the Rewind Title!

Both men circle the ring and Teddy hits the ropes! He springboards off with a roundhouse kick that Dr. Death ducks under and leaps onto Teddy’s shoulders! Hurricanrana sends Teddy across the ropes! The Luchadoc hits the ropes! TIGER FEINT KICK! Teddy stumbles back! SPRINGBOARD FAMOUSER TO O’TOOLE! TEDDY IS DOWN!

Death reaches down to peel Teddy up and gets kicked in the he head! The Candy Man kips up and hits the turnbuckle! HE RUNS UP AND GOES FOR A MOONSAULT THAT CRUSHES DR. DEATH INTO THE MAT! O’Toole leaps up with a standing shooting star press to follow up!

Teddy hits a few stiff kicks to the chest as Death begins to to rise before grabbing his arm and running him towards the ropes! He runs up and hits a leaping hurricanrana! DEATH FRONT FLIPS ONTO HIS FEET! He springboards into the ropes! LETHAL INJECTION! HANDSTAND CUTTER- NO! BACKSTABBER BY O’TOOLE!

The Doctor is in pain as he rolls off and tries to stand INTO A SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE- NO! DEATH DROPS TEDDY WITH A DROPKICK! O’Toole is clutching his chest as he gets to his feet! BY APOINTMENT! DESTINO! MODIFIED DDT PUTS TEDDY IN THE FUCKING DIRT! He covers! One! Two! Three!

Dr. Death has put down the Candy Man become the first Rewind champion!


   “red light”   

We’re in the Red District. A down and dirty level of Arcadia only known for one or two reasons. Sex and drugs.

Both of them pimped with great aplomb by Drexl, who stands, be-dreadlocked, a smirk on his face, outside an ornate door. The lights in the area are red, casting him in an eerie light.

Wagwan?” he asks, that crooked smile widening.

Standing across from him is none other than Blacktooth

So this was the address he bought earlier.

“I’ve been told that this is the place to come if I’m looking for… some body to keep me warm.”

“If you got the grip for a dilly, I can spot you someone to keep you warm for a night, homeboy.”

“Perfect. I can pay you handsomely. I’m going to need to make this a regular occurrence. Can you help with that?”

With that, another bag of credits finds it’s way to Drexl’s hands, and his eyes light up.

“Woah, this is fly as shit. Girls, meet your new best friend for the night.”

Drexl counts his credits as Blacktooth takes the girls outside of the level. When he gets there, a band of Blood Runners are waiting.

“Gentlemen, I’ve found us a sustainable way to feed our desires. Here, take them and do with them as you wish.”

Each of the Runners take the hand of one of the scantilly clad girls, who are expecting to satiate the lusts of these men for one night only.

What they don’t expect is that they’ll satiate them quite literally. The Blood Runners all start to bite chunks out of the whores Drexl provided, their meal for the day provided by Blacktooth.

But nobody hears their bloodcurdling screams as they succumb to a slow and painful death, the Blood Runners with the blood of their victims dripping from their chins as they feast on the guts of the working girls.



The Jail Block.

The Red Hood stands in the middle of the run down, disgusting, dirty jail block. The cell doors are open and Death Row convicts stand around him, upstairs overlooking balconies and at their cells below. He has their respect.

“You’ve all seen Deathrow wrestling,” he says with a loud roar in his voice. “If you’re willing to potentially cut your life short to save it, there’s a space here for you.”

He begins pacing.

“I have only a few of them left. Harvey Escher and Aster Grey have already taken up the challenge; you’ll meet them in Deathrow soon enough,” he says with a knowing nod. “But that leaves my roster short of four spaces.”

“I’ll do it,” a meek voice says from somewhere in the jail block. Everyone turns to look for it, watching as an older looking man steps out, wearing a jumper.

People snicker and laugh as he steps forward bravely.

“I’d like to do it, please,” he asks nicely. “My name is Harold Attano and I’ve been here for many years.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” A voice booms back. “Is this a fuckin’ geriatric sideshow or somethin’?”

Everyone then turns their attention to that voice.

“This mook will piss his pants at the first sign of trouble,” the man continues.

Gustav Morgue,” The Red Hood interrupts. “Forever vocal, aren’t you?”

The Mobster looking fella shrugs his shoulders.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ that if you accept this ancient piece of shit, you may as well fit him with cement shoes right now; forget about it!”

The Hood laughs.

“Well, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Hood says with a shrug of his own. “You’re both in and on the night Olympus hosts Invasion, we’ll see Gustav Morgue versus Harold Attano.”

Morgue laughs, slapping hands with his made guys as Harold lowers his head and slowly walks away.




The VHS Championship is on the line tonight, we’re going to see a new champion crowned by the time the bell tolls. Will Eagles soar for Perseus, or will the Puppetmaster’s personalities prove too powerful?

Jackson Cade goes right to business, stalking Felix Foley and grappling him into a Collar and Elbow tie. Cade tosses Foley with a Judo-style HIPTOSS that sees the Puppetmaster flat on his back. ELBOW DROP TO THE STERNUM QUICKLY FOLLOWS! THREAT CONTAINMENT! HE’S GOING FOR THE KIMURA! NO! FOLEY SLIPS OUT OF THE RING!

Cade knows better than to follow Foley out of the ring, so lays in wait until Felix slinks back in. They lock horns again and begin trading blows. Cade gets the upper hand, barraging Foley with elbows and driving him into the corner. FELIX DUCKS ANOTHER ELBOW, DROPKICKING CADE’S KNEE TO TAKE HIM DOWN! BUMPED HIS HEAD! DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!

Foley slumps back into the turnbuckle for a moment to recover, before continuing to take advantage. THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR… NO! CADE DUCKS UNDER THE BIG BOOT! BREACH AND CLEAR! SLINGBLADE HITS FOLEY! As soon as Felix makes a vertical base, Perseus leaps into action. HOSTILE DOWN! LEAPING SUPERKICK HITS FOLEY RIGHT IN THE JAW!

Foley hits the ropes hard, flipping backwards over them from the force of the kick and sailing right out of the ring. Cade cannot capitalize, but locks onto him again, flinging him back into the ring. By the time he follows him in, Foley is pulling himself to his feet. INCENDIARY ROUND! THE BULLHAMMER… NO! FOLEY REVERSES! DOUBLE ARMED DDT! CUT THE STRINGS OUTTA NOWHERE! FOLEY COVERS! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Felix Foley outlasts the onslaught from Perseus. He just wouldn’t be put down tonight. The Puppetmaster has his hands raised, standing tall as your neeeeew VHS Champion!



The Bleak

Darkened corners of The Bleak seem devoid of life, save for a single soul. A female. She walks, with hood drawn up over her head, determination in her step.

That is, until she comes to a halt, looking about her. She has the sudden feeling she is being watched.

Narcissa Balenciaga throws the hood off her cloak and looks about her into the shadows. A slow drawn out laughter comes in reply.

“There’s monsters in these parts. Horrors live in my shadows.”

Narcissa doesn’t look deterred.

“There’s also beauty in everything. Even in you, Mannfred Curze.”

Curze steps out of the shadows, showing himself to Balenciaga with a slow clap.

“I’m impressed. But that doesn’t change the fact that you should not be here. You may have fallen from grace, but even you haven’t fallen this far. Leave my region alone.”

Narcissa shakes her head.

“In my line of work, you go where the creativity leads you. I desire fibers, that is all. Fibres to make a truly unique, dark fabric. These do not exist anywhere in Arcadia… Except…”

Mannfred doesn’t need her to finish the sentence. He knows what Narcissa is getting at. As he walks, he moves around, making his way around a shadowy corner. Balenciaga keeps step with him.

“This is not an area of Arcadia that you can merely go poking around in. People down here don’t like outsiders. I don’t like outsiders.”

He beckons her away.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave. Don’t come back.”

As if to punctuate his point, he stops ahead of a single spot that is illuminated by a flickering light. In the light, clearly displayed purposefully, is the fresh body of a woman around Narcissa’s age upon a stake. She looks upon the sight, shocked at the warning before her.

By the time that she manages to draw her eyes away from the decomposing body, Mannfred Curze is gone, but his voice echoes around the Bleak.

“I will be watching.”




We see the serenity of the seemingly empty field of clovers, we now know as the Lucky Charms hideout. We know that there are eyes watching in the hills surrounding Cloverfields.

But the figure who tiptoes across the field barefoot, carrying a basket half-filled with flowers is blissfully unaware of where she has wandered.


She hums a little tune to herself as she skips about, bending over to pick clovers and daisies. Eventually, she wanders near the rocky wall at the back of the field. It is here that she hears a voice.

“Don’t take another feckin’ step, lass.”

Gemini looks about, confused.

“Is it a bee? I’m going to step on a bee, I just know it.”

Two figures emerge from the rocks, daggers in their hands. Tallywhack and Knick Knack. Tallywhack points his dagger.

“Ye’ve got more than a wee bee on yer hands Missie.”

“Ye better have a bloody good reason for steppin’ on our land.”

Gemini smiles, giving the Lucky Charms a wave of greeting. She seems none too aware still of the predicament she’s in.

“Well, I can’t really understand you too well, but aren’t you two little cuties?”

Both Lucky Charms eyes widen. Blades rise higher. But Gemini keeps on talking.

“You have some lovely flowers here. Have you felt the grass between your toes? It’s simply magical.”

Tallywhack looks to his brother.

“How do ya shut her up?”

“I’ve got some idea.”

Knick Knack lunges forward, dagger aiming right at Gemini’s chest. But she by now has turned her back on him, and is busy kneeling to collect a four-leaved clover.

“Ooooh, you two are some lucky little fellows!”

Knick Knack sails right over her, flipping back first onto the ground… Much to Tallywhacks amusement, which he shows with a raucous bellow of laughter.

Gemini looks down, seeing Knick Knack on the ground. She looks more confused than ever.

“How’d you get down there, little guy? D’ya need a hand?”

She holds out her hand to help Knick Knack up, but he merely bites her on the finger.

“Feck off, ye little bitch.”

Gemini retracts, hurt and offended. She has no idea why he’s acting like this.

“Why, that’s not a nice way of talking. I don’t think I’m going to share my daisy-chain with you.”

She turns on her heel and pouts off across the field. Behind her, the Lucky Charms both step forward, throwing daggers in hand. Knick Knack and Tallywhack both launch their daggers across the field, lining up perfectly with Gemini’s back.

But another figure hurls himself into the path of the incoming daggers.


The Skull leaps into the air, taking both daggers to the chest. Gemini has no idea he was even there, but her tag team partner just saved her life.

His body hits the ground in the middle of the Cloverfield.




Stubbins Doom faces his first foe as Champion tonight in a non-championship bout against the very one the Fables foretold. Drewitt looks to put his name on the lips of all of Arcadia tonight.

Both men size each other up for a moment before Drewitt takes the early advantage, using his strength. He has Doom in a headlock and pummels his body with knee strikes, driving him into the turnbuckle. AVALANCHE POWERBOMB SENDS A MESSAGE TO DOOM!

Drewitt scoops The Mad Scientist up and flings him up onto his shoulders. TRAVELLER’S GAMBIT! BURNING HAMMER! NO! DOOM ELBOWS THE FABLED IN THE HEAD! Drewitt drops Stubbins, The Doctor landing on both feet and driving a shoulder into Drewitt to push him into the ropes. BOOM! CLOTHESLINE TAKES DREWITT OUT! HE TUMBLES OUT OF THE RING!

Stubbins Doom presses a button on his glove, which activates his boots. He hovers, floating from the ring apron to ringside, just as Drewitt is finding his feet. HOVER, NO BOTHER! HE KICKED HIM RIGHT IN THE HEAD AS HE DESCENDS! DREWITT IS FLAT ON HIS BACK!

Rolling from the momentum, Doom peels Drewitt up off the stage and pushes him back into the ring. He climbs in after, but Drewitt quickly grabs him by the head! SIGHTSEER! IMPANT DDT! NO! DOOM KICKS HIM AWAY, THEN DROPS HIM TO THE MAT WITH A DROPKICK! HE RUNS, HITTING THE ROPES AND CHARGING BACK AT DREWITT! BREAKING THE JAR! THE BIG PUNT! HERE’S THE PIN! ONE! TWO! THREE!  

Stubbins Doom continues his winning ways tonight, taking down his first opponent as champion. He proves that the belt around his waist is there for a reason! 



Sometime later.

The Eagle’s Nest.

Jackson Cade makes his way into the secure headquarters of Eagle Unit. Computers line the walls of the main chamber, each one showing different areas of Arcadia.

If there’s something amiss where they have eyes, Eagle Unit will know about it.

Grabbing a cup of water, Cade chugs it as he makes his way to a side office.

Behind a desk sits a dark skinned officer looking concerned.

“Captain.” Cade says with a salute. “You wanted to see me?”

The Captain returns the salute, then motions for Cade to stay standing. He walks around the desk and shuts the door.

“Alright, kid.” The Captain begins. “I’ve got a special assignment for you. For your ears only.”

Perseus nods, waiting. The Captain takes a deep breath.

“It’s Riggs. Sr. Specialist Riggs.”

Cade’s eyebrow raises.

“I know he trained you, Jack. Took you under his wing, and made you into an Eagle.”


“Is this another retirement party?” Cade says with a smile. “I know he’s one day out from the big day.”

His smile dies from the look on the Captain’s face.

“He went into the lower levels on a tip the other day, and he hasn’t come back. His radio’s been shut off. No one’s heard hide nor hair of the sumbitch.”

Walking back to his desk, the Captain picks up a box.

“And then earlier today, this was dropped off outside the Nest. It has your name on it.”

Jackson takes the box, carefully opening it. His mouth drops as he sees what’s inside.

A hand.

A goddamned hand.

The wrist bone has been roughly sawed through, a sign of struggle. Then most strange, there is no blood at all. The hand’s been drained of it.

The only marking is a handwritten note, addressed to “Little Eagle.”

Cade picks it up, reading it aloud.

“One Day Changes Everything.”

Cade crumples it up, looking at the Captain.

“Bring Riggs home, Jack.”

The Specialist’s face floods with rage.

“Jasper fucking Redgrave.”