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“CLOSED FOR BUSINESS”

Click.

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

If you were a patron of the Pussycat Club, today was just another day in ‘paradise’.

Women danced from poles in stages of undress.

The alcohol flowed.

And the smell of marijuana filled the air.

Among the hustle and bustle, Drexl feels safe.

He feels comfortable.

But when the doors fly open, bursting from their hinges, and Tombstone walks in – everything changes.

Security storm in his direction, being tossed aside with relative ease. The ruckus is enough to send girls running from their stages, only The Ferryman doesn’t stop coming.

Anyone who passes him gets taken down with a fierce right hand, left hand or big boot for their troubles.

Big Slim has a decision to make.

Stay and fight.

Or run and hide.

You can’t see him for the dust marks he left behind. He runs as quickly as he can towards the nearest exit, panicked beyond belief, refusing to look back as the screams of patrons and employees alike now fill the air.

When the dust settles and Drexl is gone, Tombstone stands alone inside The Pussycat Club.

Bodies are strewn across the ground.

There’s blood up the walls, on the ceiling and stages.

The Ferryman walks behind the bar and grabs a bottle of whiskey, pouring it across the counter top. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a lighter, dropping it down into the alcohol.

As the flames rise, fire sprinklers on the ceiling come into quick effect, working to put them out as Tombstone exits the Pussycat Club.

A closed for business sign flipped on the door as he exits.

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“CALLING FAVOURS”

We find Colt Ramsey backstage, prepped and ready for action in his upcoming match. Except for the fact that he has a phone pressed to his ear. The charming demeanour we’ve come to see from him of late has been replaced by a more desperate and pleading visage.

“Hey man. You know you owe me for that lead.”

He pauses as the voice on the other end of the line considers his words.

“I’m not asking for anything I wouldn’t do for you. It’s the Vault. One doesn’t go waltzing in there without some backup.”

Colt looks up from his phone for a moment, looking at a clock on the wall.

“Look, I’ve gotta go. Just meet me later and bring some guys, I really need to get in there.”

He smiles, his eyes light up a little.

“You know me. Anything for her.”

With that, Colt puts the phone away, stepping forward towards the stage entrance ready for his match. Behind him, from the shadows, Narcissa Balenciaga steps forward. She doesn’t let Colt know she’s been listening in, but the smile on her face suggests that she likes what she’s been hearing.

Cut.

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It’s a battle between Journalism and Night Terrors here as Colt Ramsey goes one on one with Mannfred Curze. 

The bell sounds as Mannfred rushes out of the gates, nearly taking the Journo’s head off with a brutal Lariat. Colt staggers up to his feet into a flurry of lefts and rights before he’s lifted up off his feet and nearly driven through the canvas with a Baptism in Filth.

Brutal Package Piledriver could be it allready as Curze drops down for the cover. One…two…NO! Colt just gets the shoulder up. The Horror tries to pull him up but gets a thumb to the eye for his trouble before Colt grabs him by the head and delivers some B-Roll with that Rolling Cutter. Ramsey doesn’t follow up, trying to get his bearings after that Piledriver as that gives Curze time to get to his feet, rushing forward at Colt

Who Drop Toe Holds him onto the middle rope! Ramsey suckered Curze in there, the Horror staggering up into a kick to the gut before he’s spun around and dropped with a Swinging Reverse DDT! Colt trying to call a Wrap on this match but Curze is almost immediately back up to his feet, fury in his eyes as he knocks Colt for a loop with a hard spinning elbow before lifting him up off his feet.

AND NEARLY SENDING HIM THROUGH THE MAT WITH A PICTURE PERFECT SPINEBUSTER! Curze is looking for the end here, backing up as Colt slowly staggers up to his feet before spinning around,COLT GRABS HIM FROM BEHIND FIT TO PRINT OUT NOWHERE! The Full Nelson Facebuster is delivered in an instant as Colt flips Curze over for the exhausted pinfall and the one…two…three!!!

Colt Ramsey picks up the victory out of nowhere over Mannfred Curze, proving the people wanted Colt’s victory here tonight. 

WINNER: COLT RAMSEY

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“HERO WORK”

Deep within the Slums of Arcadia do we once more find Destructo Boy. The young hero is out on patrol, his Kingdomblade held tightly in hand as he leaves behind a small crime scene. A few muggers are laid out on the ground behind him, all of them looking worse for wear as Destructo Boy seemingly laid them out without mercy.

“Nice work, hero.”

James whips around to the sound of the voice, however he finds no one! But we all recognize that gravely tone. Destructo Boy gets in a combat stance, eyeing the area around himself. “I told you to leave me alone. You just here to lecture me?”

“I told you I’d be your villain. Villains don’t care to leave a hero alone, do they?”

CRASH!

THE BURNED MAN JUST CAME FROM THE SHADOWS AND KNOCKED DESTRUCTO BOY INTO A WALL!

The Arcadian Mummy swings hard, his fist colliding with the young hero’s head and knocking him straight to the ground! Destructo Boy tries to swing his blade but Burned Man kicks it from his grasp, sending it skidding across the ground before he grabs Destructo Boy and throws him into the far wall! The young hero is gasping for air, The Sole Survivor completely knocking the air out of him. He walks over, grabbing the Kingdomblade and dragging it beside himself.

“The real villains in Arcadia? The bastards? They’ll do whatever they want to a hero. They’ll do whatever they want to a civilian.” He speaks calmly, though an air of disdain fills his voice. “Because no matter what, wannabe heroes like you? Regular people like me? We’re just obstacles, and they only care to crush those obstacles.”

He sighs, walking away, the Kingdomblade in hand. “I’m only taking your weapon. But a real villain? He’d have tried to take your life.” The Sole Survivor walks away, dragging the Kingdomblade behind himself as Destructo Boy slowly tries to get to his feet.

Cut.

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“PAIN”

Eyes open. They blink as we see what the eyes see. There is a darkness and quietness around. Except for a chanting sound, though it’s sort of disconnected. We’re not really listening to it.

Almost like an out of body experience.

But now the chanting gets loud, and the darkness around us is lit by flames, and the only thing we can see as look up towards the ceiling is some sort of sharp scoop.

It’s coming at us.

So we scream.

Then the scoop gauges out our eyes, leaving us writhing in pain, but still fixed and looking up.

And then Grimskull sits up, screaming. He’s in The Altar, eyes fully intact, but sweating.

“What was that?” he asks.

“What you saw was my memory,” Vision responds. “When I lost my eyes.”

“Weren’t you angry? At the pain? Don’t you miss your eyes?”

Vision sits, as Grimskull begins to compose himself.

“In some ways, yes. In most ways, no. The pain I felt that day shaped me. And the sight I lost that day manifests itself in other ways. We’ll get to the sight another time. But the pain – you need to understand pain just like it. There were no drugs coursing through my veins as my eyes were taken. Just the pain itself to heal me and absolve me.”

Grimskull stands.

“You’re right. It’s a pain even I’ve never thought about. It’s a pain most humans would not bear.”

“Pain is the violet facet of the prism. It is one of the hardest, but one of the most important. You know all about pain, but you must learn to accept true unbridled pain into your heart, for without that, you can never know the sweet release of serenity that follows.

Cut.

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Tonight Luther Grim seeks his next trophy in The Skull, but will the Hunter become the hunted?

The bell rings as Kpavio and Grim begin with a hockey fight in the middle laying into each other with vicious right-handed fists that ends with The Hunter shoving The Skull into the ropes.  As Kpavio rebounds, Luther leaps up— BLOOD SPORT! Brogue Kick to the skull of The Skull!

But Kpavio only staggers back into the ropes and The Hunter falls to RUIN – Giant Roundhouse Kick to the cranium of Grim who drops to one knee! The Skull now looks for VIOLENCE – Springboard DDT – COUNTERED BY BLOOD SPORT! Another huge Brogue Kick knocks the Skull out of mid air!

Luther quickly snatches Kpavio up into a torture rack— THE HARVESTCOUNTERED INTO JUSTICE! Crippler Crossface by The Skull!  But the Hunter’s only in the hold momentarily and his instincts kick in as he rolls out of the hold! The Skull stands and Luther snaps him hp and drops him with a Falling Powerbomb—  TROPHY HUNT!

Luther lets out a guttural scream and holds his fist aloft as Kpavio begins to get to his feet— KILL SHOT – Knock-Out Punch – KILL IT WITH – DUCKED BY THE SKULL!  Kpavio runs off the ropes and returns with VENGEANCE – High Impact Running Knee Strike to the face of Grim!  COVER— ONE… TWO… THREE!

The Skull hunts down The Hunter on this night, robbing Grim of his trophy bid!

WINNER: KPAVIO

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“DEATHROW DEATHMATCH”

Deathrow.

Harold Attano is pissed.

He storms through the cell block, his eyes on one cell in particular – that of Gustav Morgue. Attano approaches quickly, throat chopping one of the goons outside on guard before stepping inside.

What he finds there is not what he expected.

The Cleaners body sits, stuffed, a vision of destruction and decay.

As Harold holds in the vomit, Gustav Morgue enters the room, this time flanked by two more cronies.

“This should’ve been you,” he says, pointing down at The Cleaner. “You’re the trophy I wanted, but there’s still time.”

Attano suddenly grabs one of the cronies, running him backwards into the wall. He snatches a book off the table and slams it in his throat before being tackled by the other.

The other man runs him backwards into the cell, receiving forearm smashes down on his back until he relents. Attano grabs his garrotte wire, wrapping it around his throat and leaning backwards into the cell.

As blood trickles, Morgue claps.

“Impressive, old man – but then, there always has been more to you than meets the eye, hasn’t there?” Gustav says with a shrug.

I’m gonna kill you,” Harold growls, squeezing the wire. Among the sounds of choking, he continues. “At Ring of Death – in a match that ends when one of us is dead.”

Morgue nods in agreement.

“Sure,” he says nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Harold steps forward and kicks his crony at him, before exiting the cell and making his escape. The man falls at the feet of Morgue, bleeding out.

“I guess you’ll do as an addition to my collection for now, Tony,” he says, stroking his hair as he dies before him.

Cut.

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“PROTECTING FROM YOURSELF”

In the heart of the Slums, Gemini is a beacon of hope and innocence.

She kneels on the broken floor, her fingers gingerly planting seeds in grey, dead soil. Her joy-filled laughter echoes off the dilapidated buildings, a stark contrast to the sorrow that usually haunts the air here.

A few paces away, Kaiju Chiba, watches over her, a human fortress dedicated to her protection.

His gaze is unwaveringly protective.

As she disappears around a corner, he quickens his pace to follow, only to halt abruptly.

Blacktooth stands waiting.

Beside him stands Gemini.

The evil version, of course.

And then there’s the matter of fuckton of Blood Runners. Their chilling presence fills the narrow alleyway, a storm ready to break.

Kaiju Chiba knows no words will do here. He cracks his neck and lowers his center of gravity.

Blacktooth grins, his sharpened teeth glinting in the feeble sunlight. Without a word, he signals his crew.

They descend on the Big Save like vultures, their punches and kicks raining down on him in a brutal symphony of violence.

But Kaiju Chiba is not here to follow a conductor.

He is the conductor.

Fighting with all he has, Chiba is breaking bones and spindling spines of any Blood Runner he can get his hands on.

But there’s too many of them. They’re overwhelming him by sheer numbers.

His skin is being torn as some of the Runners are biting into the Big Save.

There may not be a Big Save here.

But wait…

A puff of smoke…

WHAM!

GEMINI OUT OF NOWHERE LAUNCHES HERSELF ON THE BLOOD RUNNERS!

THE GOOD GEMINI!

“Leave my friend alone!” She yells, taking on the fearsome crew.

Draping herself (poorly) over the colossus, Gemini is trying to shield him from the onslaught.

But it’s stopped.

The Blood Runners have backed away, leaving the area, tending their wounded, and dragging away their dead for dinner.

All but Blacktooth.

His eyes lock onto Gemini’s, and a moment passes.

Tooth Rot grins and nods at her before walking away, leaving Gemini alone with the wounded Kaiju.

She kneels next to him, her eyes filled with tears.

As the Blood Runners disappear, the Slums return to their usual silence, broken only by Gemini’s soft sobs.

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It’s the Hero with a monstrous sized heart versus the Monster with a  heart we’re all amazed still beats, as James Faith Jackson takes on Drewitt! 

The bell rings and Pilgrim and Destructo Boy meet in the center of the ring. The Kid stares up at his adversary, and Drewitt biel tosses The Boy across the ring! However, The Kid manages to handspring off the ropes and lands a superhero pose, staring at Drewitt with a smirk.

But that smirk is quickly wiped from Jackson’s face when The Traveler nails a Boot to the face of The Boy! Drewitt quickly ragdolls The Kid to his feet only to drive him back down with an Impact DDT – THE SIGHTSEER INTO THE COVER!  ONE… TWO… THR- NO, JACKSON KICKS OUT!

The Pilgrim goes to lift Destructo Boy off the canvas again but The Kid pops him square on the nose hard enough to make the bigger man’s eyes water instantly! Then in a flash feat of strength he lifts his larger foe hitting the SHINE SPIKE – viciously impactful Backdrop Driver!

Drewitt no sells, standing straight up, but Destructo Boy is still in motion— IMPACT BREAKER! Spinning Corkscrew Headbutt to the fucking jaw of The Pilgrim dazes him!  Jackson’s staying on his horse up to the top rope with a  leaping 630 Senton – JUSTICE GENADE TO THE STANDING DREWITT – COUNTERED INTO A LIGHTNING CHOKESLAM! ARDUOUS JOURNEY INTO THE PIN!  ONE… TWO… THREE!

In one snap move, Drewitt plants The Boy! It’s another lesson learned the hard way, and another journey down the path less traveled!

WINNER: DREWITT

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“LEAD IN”

Mannfred Curze seems to be waiting in his corner of The Bleak, and we soon see why. It’s the girl we’ve seen meet him here before.

“Mr Curze,” she says, as she enters the room.

“What have you got for me?” he retorts. Straight to the point. Terse.

“A ‘hello, how are you’ would be nice sometimes.”

“You’re my mole. I don’t need to know how you are, I need to know what you’ve heard.”

The girl sighs.

“Fine. I haven’t heard much. Even for an invisible nobody like me, this is much harder than I thought. They’re keeping this one really tight.”

“Get to the point. What’s the lead in?

“I’ve heard about a level in Arcadia where our friends from the Bleak might have been taken.”

“Okay. What level is it?”

“I don’t know what it’s called.”

“Who resides there?”

“I don’t know who lives there.”

Curze walks over to the girl and kneels beside her, agressively.

“The answer to the next question had better not be ‘I don’t know’, girl, or I don’t know if I can be held accountable,” he starts. “Tell me some information I can use.”

“All I can tell you is that to find it you go up, and follow the forked tongue.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all they let slip. Whatever it is they’re doing, they don’t want you to find out Mr Curze.”

Curze shoves the girl towards the door.

“I need to get planning…”

Cut.

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“LOBBYING”

The House of Sovereigns.

Stood at the front door of Zeus’ home, Damien Wolfe cuts a very smug figure. In his hand is a folder full of paperwork and on his face, a smile that can’t seemingly be erased, not even by the arrival of The Baron.

“Thanks for meeting with me, sir,” Damien says, shuffling through his folder.

“For a weasel, you offer many surprises, Mr. Wolfe. You’re the last person I expected to see after I fired you from Old School Wrestling.”

Damien nods.

“Yes sir, but I retained my position as trusted conservator. It was in this position that I found documents relating to Old School Wrestling,” he says proudly, handing a document to Zeus.

Zeus reads it, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks over the paper to a smiling Wolfe. That smile recedes, quickly.

“By your own rule sir, I’m entitled…”

The Baron growls slightly.

“I mean, I should be offered an opportunity to lobby for my job with the Pantheon as judges,” he says, pushing his glasses up.

Zeus thinks about it for a moment.

“You know what Damien?” He says, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ll reinstate you.”

Damien’s eyebrows raise in excitement.

“There’s no need to lobby. But in replacement of doing so, I’m going to give you a return match,” he says, opening the door to his home somewhat. A figure can be seen behind him.

Suddenly, the figure rushes towards Wolfe, leaping atop him and slamming down violent forearms.

It’s Luther Grim.

Grim punches away at a squealing Wolfe as Zeus stands over them both, chuckling.

“I was just interviewing Mr. Grim here about hunting the Uprising,” Zeus says with a snarl. “But instead, next week at Clash, he’ll be hunting you.”

Cut

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Two hard hitting warriors go head to head here tonight. Will the Burned Man show the Kid exactly how much of a villain he can be or will the Artist paint the canvas beige white here tonight?

The bell sounds as both men rush forward, the Burned Man and Jasper swinging wildly in a relative even striking contest. Redgraves stronger blows being tanked by the man who can’t feel pain but a brutal elbow to the jaw staggers back the Burned Man before a running Big Boot nearly breaks his damn jaw.

The Mummy staggers to his feet right into a Goozle before Redgrave SPLATTERS HIM ONTO THE CANVAS WITH A BRUTAL CHOKESLAM! That could be it there allready but Redgrave isn’t done as he backs up, waiting for the Burned Man to slowly rise to his feet before rushing forward.

Superkick…NO! TBM ducks underneath, grabbing Redgrave from behind and dropping him on the back of his head with a Half Nelson Suplex. Jasper staggers back up as the Burned Man drops him with a second completing Ashes to Ashes but TBM doesn’t let go, dragging Redgrave back to his feet as he wraps his arms around his throat, trying to perhaps inflict some Eternal Burning here.

LOW BLOW! TBM might not feel it but it still knocks all the wind out of him as Redgrave slips out of the hold before spinning around and nearly taking TBM’s head off with some Sanguine Absurdism and a brutal Discus Clothesline. The Artist doesn’t let the Burned Man fall, pulling him up to his feet but the Burned Man delivers a low blow of his own, doubling over the Artist before the Arcadian Mummy rolls him up into a schoolboy, as the referee counts down one…two…TBM has the tights…three!!!

The Burned Man picks up the victory here with a very underhanded move, possibly trying to send a message to the Kid through his actions. 

WINNER: THE BURNED MAN

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“INFILTRATE”

Under the cover of night, two figures move stealthily towards a chain link fence that separates them from a heavily guarded compound. They pause, while one takes to the fence with a pair of bolt cutters. The second, having a moment to reflect speaks in a familiar voice. It’s Colt Ramsey.

“Thanks for coming. How’d you get the plan together?”

The second figure sheathes the bolt cutters, looking at Colt. We cannot see their face, and they speak in a whisper.

“Favours, called them in just like you. There’s always folk in the Underground ready to fight the good fight when asked.”

Colt looks somewhat puzzled.

“What has this got to do with the good fight?”

The second person pats Colt gently on the shoulder and whispers their reply.

“Nothing, but they don’t need to know that, do they? They’re angry enough to create the perfect diversion for us. Draw the guards, and you can slip in the back door”

As soon as the words are spoken, shouting is heard in the distance. Within the compound, sirens wail and floodlights burst into life. A group of angry people are trying to storm the gates while Colt and his companion look on.

The commotion draws all of the guards away from the side of the compound that the pair wait by. Colt looks a little concerned.

“What of them? They’re not going to fight back against these guys are they? That’s fucking suicide.”

“Relax Colt. Just do your bit, get inside and get the thing she sent you for. You get one chance to infiltrate the Vault. They will create a distraction, the APD will come and take them away. Worst that’d happen is they get roughed up a bit.”

The figure pushes Colt in the back towards the hole created in the fence.

“Go. Now. It’s your only window.”

Colt does as told and disappears inside the compound. He runs towards the large wall of the building ahead of them, towards a doorway left ajar by security in the rush to quell the riot at the gates. He looks back with a nod before slipping inside.

Cut.

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The fashion designer ventures into a huge match against Vision. Will she pick up a massive win, or will the Third Eye be victorious?

The bell sounds as the Narcissa rushes forward, nearly taking Visions’s head off with a brutal leaping Dropkick to the chin. The Awoken One staggers up to his feet into a flurry of lefts and rights before he’s snapped down to the canvas with a thunderous DDT. Vision gets up holding his back in pain into a rib breaking knee before he finds himself dropped to one knee by a low blow. The Designer presses her thumbs into his fleshy eye pockets, but Vision chuckles, roaring upwards with an uppercut, dropping her.

Vision turns the tides, BLINDSPOT! He can’t keep down the smaller woman as Narcissa squirms out of the submission attempt. They both pop back up. A snap headbutt stuns Vision, ROLL UP ATTEMPT! ONE… TWO… KICK OUT! They’re both quickly back up, and it’s The Fashion Designer who turns around RIGHT INTO HELLO DARKNESS! Devestating Standing Dragon Sleeper dims the lights for Narcissa here as Vision looks to take advantage.

NARCISSA THOUGH BACKS HIM INTO THE CORNER! Sickening thud after sickening thud into the turnbuckle forces a break. She flips him over her shoulder with a Judo Toss. CATWALK! CATWALK! SHE WALKS EMPHATICALLY ACROSS HIS BACK WITH A CURBSTOMP FOR GOOD MEASURE! SHE COVERS… ONE… TWO… THREE! NARCISSA PICKS UP THE WIN!

The Designer emerges victorious here tonight, using her guile and agility to turn a sure difficult battle into victory against the Awoken. 

WINNER: NARCISSA BELANCIAGA

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“UNDER COVER OF DARK”

The Slums.

Some time has passed since Kaiju Chiba and Gemini have dealt with the the Blood Runners, and we find Nature’s Delight on her own at the moment…but not for long, as a voice calls to her from the shadows. A voice that causes Gemini to pause, nervous in its presence.

The voice of Kpavio.

“There you are, Gemini…I knew you couldn’t hide from me for long.”

The Skull steps out into the light, staring down his target…only to find a puff of smoke dissipating from where Nature’s Delight once stood.

Leaving behind The Void.

“What do you want?” Gemini snaps in response, glaring at The Skull…which actually causes Kpavio to take pause. He doesn’t quite know how to respond to the inquiry, until a single word is uttered.

You.”

This, naturally, causes the Witch to snarl as she replies once more, this time with far more aggression.

“You want me, do you? You’ll have to take that up with Blacktooth…assuming I let you live long enough to face him.”

Kpavio seems taken aback by the remark, taking one step away from the Witch before turning his back to reassess the situation.

“What power does this woman contain under cover of dark?” Kpavio inquires to himself, trying to make sense of the predicament he’s facing…an inquiry that gets a curious response.

“Under cover of what, now?”

A different voice greets the Skull, turning back around to find that Nature’s Delight has returned. This confuses the Skull greatly, for just a moment…before he snaps at her.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head…when I’m through with you, there will only be darkness.”

With that, Kpavio retreats, leaving a visibly confused–and sad–Gemini to think over the Skull’s warning as she waits for Kaiju’s return.

Cut.

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“WHAT YOU ARE”

CANDYLABS™.

Sat behind his big old desk in the middle of his office, Teddy O’Toole overlooks the factory floor below. He watches as the door flies open and in walks Drewitt, waving a gun.

The workers rush from pillar to post, hiding as he storms through them toward the offices, kicking in the door of O’Toole and pointing the gun directly at him.

“You owe me answers,” he growls, demanding. Drewitt cocks the gun and steps forward.

Teddy smiles.

“How long do you intend to do this song and dance?” The Candy Man asks, standing up slowly. He reaches into his pocket with one hand, careful to calm Drewitt with the other.

He finally pulls out part of the Root of Ambrosia, holding it up for The Explorer to see.

“You took me to find this,” he admits. “It’s an ingredient I need for a very special candy bar. I’ve been trying to find a way to replicate its properties, so that I could grow more.”

“You killed me over a fuckin’ candy bar?” The Explorer roars, pushing the gun forward into Teddy’s temple. “You’re willin’ to die for it?”

O’Toole lowers his head to the right.

Look,” he says softly. “You have no idea what happened that day. You have no idea what you are.”

Then tell me!” He roars.

Suddenly, panicked and in a state of terror, Drexl storms into the room. He’s breathless, and Drewitt immediately turns the gun in his direction, stepping between them both and pointing it at either.

“He…”

Big Slim can barely catch his breath.

“He took the club,” Drexl says gasping for air. “Tombstone. He’s coming.”

Drewitt looks at Teddy O’Toole.

Teddy O’Toole looks at Drexl.

Drexl puts his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Cut.

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The Devil has a chance to sink his teeth into Singing Death himself, as Blacktooth takes on El Mariachi Muerte in non-title action!

Blacktooth rushes Muerte at the outset, blindsiding the champ with some hard lefts and rights that sends him toward the corner. The Devil is quick with some boots to the midsection while Muerte’s trapped in the turnbuckle, dropping him to the canvas before hitting a boot right to the face!

Muerte falls face-first to the canvas, but Blacktooth is far from finished as he drags the champ to the center of the ring before locking in a camel clutch! He’s going for the fish hook on Muerte’s nose! MUTILATION–NO! Muerte narrowly escapes disaster, slipping out in the nick of time!

Muerte’s back on his feet, catching a rising Cannibal with a dropkick that sends Blacktooth reeling back! Muerte uses this opening to hop onto the ropes, leaping off for a springboard lungblower to Blacktooth! LAST CARNIVÀLE! The Devil drops down hard as Muerte goes for the cover! ONE! TWO! THR–NO!

Blacktooth kicks out, but Muerte is already back to his feet, pulling out a rose that he places in his mouth! Blacktooth gets to his feet…only for him to take a kick to the gut before Muerte hits a package piledriver! FADE TO BLACK! Muerte covers him! ONE! TWO! THREE!

The Cannibal fails to get his fill of Death, as El Mariachi Muerte picks up the win over Blacktooth!

WINNER: EL MARIACHI MUERTE

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“PORTRAIT OF A KILLER”

Darkness.

Jackson Cade stands at the base of an ominous staircase, spiraling into an infinite obsidian abyss.

Each step is slick with a chilling veneer of blood, gleaming under a spectral light.

The chilling echo of Jasper Redgrave’s voice surrounds him.

“You can’t outrun your failures…”

Is this a dream?

With each step he ascends, a shroud of guilt weighs heavier on his shoulders, a bitter cloak woven from remorse and regret.

Shadows coalesce into spectral figures, their faces a haunting gallery of the departed.

Riggs, his eyes hollow with accusation.

The silent apparitions of Riggs’ wife and child, their spectral faces frozen in a tableau of horror.

Nameless officers, used as pawns and exhibits by Redgrave, their anonymous faces a stark reminder of his perceived failures.

Suddenly, a wave of faceless phantoms surge towards him, their spectral hands clawing, their wails a cacophonous chorus of accusation.

The sheer magnitude of their number is a grim testament to lives lost at the hands of Jasper Redgrave.

Due to the inaction of Eagle Unit.

His inaction.

Despite the spectral onslaught, Cade pushes onwards, ascending the blood-slick staircase, his heart pounding a desperate rhythm against his ribcage.

At the peak of this climb, a mirror stands, its surface gleaming ominously against the engulfing darkness.

Gathering the remnants of his courage, he gazes upon his reflection, met with a gruesome vision.

His face, contorted into a bloody grimace of guilt and torment, stares back at him – a hideous self-portrait of the killer he fears he has become.

Redgrave’s voice returns, a malicious whisper in the echoing void.

“You can’t escape yourself…”

With a start, Jackson Cade snaps awake, his body held taunt in the Embrace of Pain.

Consciousness returns.

As does pain.

But for once, Jackson Cade knows what to do.

Cut.

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The bell tolls for Stubbins Doom tonight: Will Tombstone collect his soul, or can Doom cheat death?

The arena lighting drops to complete and utter darkness.

As the introduction of 2CELLOS popular Vivaldi Storm hits, it comes to a stop before the lighting returns as the music does, revealing Stubbins Doom stood at the entrance ramp. He has two drones floating around him as he makes a fast paced and focused walk down the aisle, turning left to make his way up the stairs.

The drones meet him in the ring before flying off in their own directions, leaving Doom to survey the crowd before him, as well as the ominous steel cell suspended above him.

Again, the arena is thrust into complete darkness.

A single, dark purple spotlight shines down upon Doom who stands alone in the center of the ring.

DONNNNNNGGGGG!

Seemingly spooked, which is out of character for him, Doom looks around the arena as the bell ring echoes throughout Olympus.

DONNNNNNGGGGG!!

A GLOVED HAND BREAKS THROUGH THE RING BENEATH STUBBINS DOOM!

IT GRABS DOOM BY THE ANKLE AS DOOM PROGRAMS HIS DROIDS TO HOVER ABOVE HIM—

Total darkness again.

LIGHTNING STRIKES ABOVE THE RING!

And when the lights come on in the arena, we see Doom’s drones broken in a smoking heap in the ring next to the hole where Tombstone stands, with his gloved hand wrapped around Stubbins Doom’s neck!

GOOZLE!

The bell rings to officially start the match and the steel cell descends, enclosing the ring as Tombstone steps up onto the canvas and lifts Doom up by the throat—

CHOKESLAM—

NO!

DOOM SLIPPED OUT OF HIS CLUTCHES!

That was a close one, and sensing that he narrowly avoided certain doom, Doom begins raining vicious forearms on the back of the head and neck of Tombstone, beating him down…

UNTIL TOMBSTONE BATS HIM AWAY!

Doom stumbles back into the ropes and comes back at him, but Tombstone shoots him an icy glare that freezes Doom in his tracks!

With Tombstone looking unaffected by that onslaught, Doom has second thoughts about attacking head-on, and jumps through the ropes to the outside as Tombstone briskly, and angrily, follows.

Doom books it around the ring, Tombstone only a step or two behind, and turns another corner before Tombstone just about catches up—

BONNNNGGGG!

DROP TOE HOLD INTO THE STEEL STEPS BY DOOM!

A thunderous thud shakes the ground as Tombstone’s head meets steel, and ever one to capitalize on another’s misfortunes, Doom continues his forearm assault on Tombstone’s neck and back of his head!

Doom chuckles for a moment, then lifts Tombstone’s head up…

AND SLAMS IT FACE-FIRST ONTO THE TOP STEP!

Doom connects with another forearm before picking Tombstone’s head up again—

AND SLAMMING IT ON THE STEEL STEPS AGAIN!!

The Arcadian crowd are simultaneously booing Doom and cheering for the violence, and Doom lifts Tombstone’s head up for a third time to complete the trifecta—

ONLY TO BE MET FACE-TO-FACE WITH A PISSED OFF SCOWL FROM TOMBSTONE!

GOOZLE!

Tombstone shakes his head as he tightens his grip around Doom’s neck, cutting off the Mad Scientist’s airway, then he lifts Doom up high…

Doom is squirming, doing anything he can to break away from Tombstone’s clutches as he gasps for air—

BONNNNNGGGGG!!!

FALLING CHOKESLAM ONTO THE STEEL STEPS!!!

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!!!

With a huff, Tombstone unloads Doom off the cold, steel slab and sends him on his way into the ring, sliding in after him and hooking a leg for the cover, as this must be it—

ONE!

.

.

.

TWO!!

..

..

..

..

..

..

ZEUS SAVE YOUR SOUL, STUBBINS DOOM!!

THREE!!!

….

NO!!!

WITH A MASSIVE GASP FOR AIR, DOOM GOT THE SHOULDER UP AT 2.9999!!!

Perturbed now, Tombstone lifts Doom up into a bearhug, and with bloodshot eyes that offer a glimpse into his cryptic soul, he begins pacing around the ring as he squeezes the life out of Doom—

A SOUL TO CARRY!!

The ref asks Doom if he’s had enough, and after a few moments Doom raises an arm up…

Then raises his other arm…

….

….

And places both of his hands on Tombstone’s head—

BRAINS OVER BRAUN!!

DOOM’S SHOCKING THE SHIT OUT OF TOMBSTONE!!

After a good, long shocking, Tombstone finally relinquishes his hold on Doom, dropping to his knees, and Doom knows this may be the only opportunity he gets here, backing up and sprinting towards Tombstone’s head, teeing off on it—

BREAKING THE JAR!!!

PUNT TO TOMBSTONE’S HEAD CONNECTS!!!

Tombstone is grounded for the first time all match, and Doom hooks a leg for the cover—

ONE!

.

.

.

TWO!!

..

..

..

..

..

..

HAS DOOM DONE IT??

NO!!

TOMBSTONE TOSSES DOOM OFF OF HIM WITH EASE!!

Doom lands on his stomach and looks over at Tombstone, who sits straight up, then turns his head at him, casting a frightening glare at the former world champ!

Doom, furrowing his brow, removes his spectacles and fogs them up with his breath. After he wipes them off he places them back on and squints at Tombstone, who looks just as menacing as the first glance.

GULP.

LARIAT DROPS DOOM!

Tombstone methodically pulls Doom to his feet and holds him against the ropes, then he whips Doom across the ring into the ropes and on the rebound throws a wild right hand—

DUCKED BY DOOM!

Stubbins is running the ropes now, hitting the opposite ropes, and on the rebound Tombstone lifts his leg up high—

BIG BOOT—

AGAIN DUCKED BY DOOM!

Doom’s sprinting at breakneck speed now, and his tall gangly frame wildly and uncontrollably launches off the ropes right into the waiting arms of the Ferryman—

BOSSMAN SLAM!!

YOU CAN’T RUN FROM THE FERRYMAN, STUBBINS!!

The impact skids Doom towards the ropes and he continues his momentum under the bottom rope to the apron. Tombstone slowly walks towards Doom, who scrambles away, falling out of the ring and landing with a thud onto the floor below!

We’ve never seen Stubbins Doom on his heels like this. With nowhere to run, trapped by the steel cell around him, and nowhere to hide with his drones taken out of the equation right off the bat, we’re looking at a no-frills man who is desperate to merely survive this match.

Stubbins crawls to the steel wall, gripping the links as he tries to pull himself up, but the bell is tolling once again as Tombstone casts a large shadow over him from behind.

Tombstone shoves Doom’s face into the cell wall, grating hit like Parmesan cheese atop his bowl caccio e pepe!

The crowd screams with delight as the visage of Doom’s face grinds back and forth in front of their eyes!

”FERRY-MAN!”

”FERRY-MAN!”

The crowd cheers Tombstone on as he turns Doom around and props him up against the wall—

FINGER THRUST TO THE THROAT!

PUNCH TO THE CHEST!

BIG UPPERCUT TO THE CHIN!!

THE FERRYMAN’S KNOCK!!

Doom is in a bad way, bloodied and wobbly, and Tombstone scoops him up onto his shoulder. The Courier of the Dead steps forward and lawndarts doom—

SNAKE EYES INTO THE RING POST!

Doom crumbles into a pile like his broken drones, but Tombstone wastes no time and deadlifts him up onto his shoulders and takes aim at the ring—

JACKKNIFE POWERBOMB ONTO THE APRON!!

ODE TO CHARON!!

Doom clutches his back in agony, and again attempts to pull himself up on the cell wall, but Tombstone is having none of it—

BIG BOOT TO THE BACK OF DOOM’S HEAD— TOMBSTONE MASHED HIS SKULL RIGHT INTO THE WALL!!

Doom may be out, and the ref goes to check on him, but Tombstone shoots him a glare that sends him scrambling backwards away from the competitors!

Tombstone rolls Doom into the ring and stands over him. He takes his thumb to his throat, and taunts Doom with a ripping motion, signaling the end is near for Doom!

Tombstone emphatically shoves Doom’s head between his legs and goes to lift him up…

THE LIGHTS GO OUT!

….

….

….

….

When the lights come back on we see Tombstone doubled over Doom’s arm, who must have hit a low blow on the Ferryman during the EMP strike—

ELECTROMAGNETIC PUNCH IN THE TESTICLES!!

Doom presses a button on his wrist—

HE’S ELECTRIFYING TOMBSTONE’S STONES!!

Doom takes a step back and follows up by waving his right hand at Tombstone before pressing another button on his wrist—

WATCH MY RIGHT HAND!!

DOOM’S LEFT GLOVE PROJECTILES RIGHT BETWEEN TOMBSTONE’S EYES!!

But Tombstone is still standing, and Doom propels himself at Tombstone’s head with a levitating kick—

HOVER, NO BOTHER CONNECTS!!

Tombstone is down on all fours, and Doom realizes it’s now or never. He lines up Tombstone’s and head, and runs at him again—

BREAKING THE JAR!!!

A SECOND PUNT KICK TO THE HEAD CONNECTS!!!

Doom covers Tombstone, whose eyes have rolled into the back of his head—

ONE!

.

.

.

TWO!!

..

..

..

..

..

..

REST IN PIECES!!

THREE!!!

Stubbins Doom dug himself out of a six foot-deep hole to overcome the odds with a big victory!

WINNER: STUBBINS DOOM

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“SOLO TÚ DEBES DECIDIR”

Somewhere in Arcadia, in the deepest darkest depths of The Slums, El Mariachi Muerte and Dr. Death walk carefully towards an abandoned looking room.

“This doesn’t feel like a place we should be, amigo,” Death says, paranoid.

Muerte doesn’t reply. He enters the room, accompanied by The Luchadoc. They find an elderly man sat on a rug, surrounded by cushions. The face paint barely covers his wrinkles and behind him, in a rickety old cabinet, are a guitar and sombrero mariachi hat.

The World Champion doesn’t speak at first. He invites Dr. Death to sit with a nod and carefully hands over the song sheet. The old mariachi looks it over, musing with it, humming slightly, before handing it back.

El Mariachi takes a seat himself.

“Sabes que nuestra música tiene propiedades místicas.”

“Sí,” Muerte replies.

“Si esta hoja de canción es real o no, no importa. En nuestro mundo, la música es la verdad. Su creación en esta forma, en nuestra realidad, la legitima.”

Muerte looks at Death, then back at the Old Mariachi.

“¿Debo actuar sobre el contenido, viejo amigo?” He asks, his eyes widened in hope.

“Solo tú debes decidir,” is the reply.

The Mariachi stands up and nods at his counterpart, nodding to Death who also gets back to his feet. They both exit the room, into the hall outside. The Luchadoc has questions.

“Well, what did he say?” He begs to know. “What does the song sheet mean?”

The World Champion sighs.

“Next week, we must defend our Tag Team Championships,” he says with a low growl in his accent. “I’m sorry, mi amigo. I didn’t want this to be true, but it is written, therefore it shall come to pass.”

Without another word, Muerte walks away, leaving his tag team partner even more confused than before.

Cut.

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