THE
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Click.

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

In the middle of the night, Jessie Williams wakes up frantically, a nightmare terrorising his poor night’s sleep.

With his eyes wide and sweat dripping from his brow, he scoots up in bed to recover, only a glint of a figure in the corner, catches his eye.

“Do you need a Doctor?” The voice asks, with a warped sense of concern. “You appear sick.”

“No,” Williams replies. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Was it of your Uncle Matthew?”

There’s a pause. Jessie reaches over and grabs a glass of water, taking a large gulp. His eyes catch a photograph on the wall of him, Matthew Cories and his father, out by a cabin in the woods.

“Didn’t you send Helstrom back to his master?” The person questions, sat on a rocking chair now in the darkened corner of the room, softly rocking back and forth.

“I did, just like you told me; but something doesn’t feel right. He had evil in him, I could sense it, but I don’t think he killed my Uncle Matty.”

“Are you accusing me of being wrong?” He questions sinisterly. “Do you think I’d point you in the wrong direction; do you think I’d lead you down the wrong path?”

Jessie wisely doesn’t answer.

“We had an agreement, young Williams; I would lead you to the killer of your Uncle and you’d help me find it.”

“You realize that it won’t be easy to find?” Jessie reminds him. “I’m not sure that it even exists anymore.”

The figure ominously stands up.

“It does,” he growls. “And you will help me find it, as you agreed.”

Jessie gulps, nodding.

Cut.

JUNKRAT VS. BISHOP
SINGLES MATCH

Junkrat’s gone even more off the deep end with the loss of the #1 but can he take his anger out on the Hunter or will Junkrat be just another victim of the War Machine?

The bell sounds as Junkrat rushes forward, rushing Bishop with surprising speed as he pummels the bigger man with heavy lefts and rights, overwhelming Bishop with sheer ferocity before backing up and ramming his head full force into Bishop’s stomach. The unorthadox move doubles The Hunter over, allowing Junkrat to flip him over with a Monkey Flip that doesn’t quite get the full rotation, dropping Bishop right on his goddamn head!

GLORIOUS BOTCH! Junkrat doesn’t waste time, dropping a few right hands to the back of Bishop’s skull before trying to lock in the Steel Trap. Bishop quickly gets the ropes, before Junkie can lock around his chin as he’s forced to break the hold. Junkrat gets to his feet, backing up but misses the punt kick, allowing Bishop to roll to his feet as he springs forward with a massive DEADEYE!

That spear drops Junkrat but takes a lot out of Bishop as both men struggle to their feet. A huge right hand sends Junkrat staggering into the corner as he’s lifted up and driven down face first with Snake Eyes but Junkrat manages to grab the ropes as he bounces off, before swinging around and delivering THE CONCUSSION MINE! Junkrat shakes out the cobwebs before quickly jumping to the top rope and diving off, RIP TI…HITS KNEES! Junkrat staggers to his feet A SECOND DEADEYE! This one sends Junkrat flying through the air before crashing with a splat as Bishop quickly hooks the leg, ONE…TWO…THREE!!

Bishop picks up the hard fought victory here tonight, quickly exiting the ring as he wants nothing more to do with the frenzied Junkrat.

NO HELP REQUIRED
BACKSTAGE

Backstage.

The Reaper is looking for his partner backstage, searching high and low for the man he teams with tonight in Tag Team action.

Just then, out of no-where, he’s blindsided by a steel chair.

The steel chair is walloped right over his head, knocking him for six.

However, Reaper is one tough bastard.

He doesn’t go down.

Another shot.

Another.

Another.

Six shots later and finally he falls to the floor in a heap, unconscious.

We finally see the wielder of the weapon, grinning from ear to ear.

It’s Dice.

“I don’t need a partner,” he growls. “All I need is my special dice, you son of a bitch.”

He turns to walk away, bumping into The Plague Rat.

“Hmm,” he sighs. “Nice handywork.”

Dice rolls his eyes. He doesn’t need anyone’s help, nor anyone’s opinions. He’s better than that.

“You know, I think you and I might have more in common that we first thought. I do love violence,” he admits.

Dice pushes him backwards before proceeding to get in his face.

“You disgust me,” he roars. “Just like Jason Momoa, you sicken me. Tonight, you’re a roll of the dice away from the end of your life, ratboy. Watch your ass.”

Dice storms off towards the backstage area like a man on a mission. TPR grins, chuckling to himself.

THE THIEF OF LIFE
SOMEWHERE ELSE

“Vera, get me a status update on Pickpocket. He disappeared after his match last week and I need to know where that street urchin is. Now.”

The words echo through the pure white halls of one of Mark Gouldern’s many business buildings. His assistant who was at his side just moments ago rushes off down the hallway Gouldern just came from. The philanthropist rolls his eyes, scoffing at the girl.

“That should have been in my hands when I walked into the building. No matter, her replacement will be lined up by tomorrow. I won’t deal with inefficiency when there is a bug in my system.”

He walks further down the halls, going past multiple doors before coming to one that is clearly labeled ‘Lounge’. He goes to a pin pad on the side of the door, entering in a multi digit number with one hand while he speaks into his gauntlet with the other.

“Vera. Have the men returned from their scouting mission?”

“Yes sir. They should be in the lounge waiting for you.”

Gouldern smirks as the presses enter, the door sliding open.

“Men, we have-”

He stops dead in his tracks, and the camera pans around to reveal what he sees, Gouldern’s mouth agape as he looks on.

Death.

His small group of soldiers, the men on the boat who helped instigate the end of both Scrimshaw and X, they laid out in their chairs. Throats slit cleanly, the slightest show of restraint as though the assailant didn’t fully want to do what he was doing.

Mark walked into the room, shocked, unable to speak. He sees a single piece of paper on the blood stained table in the center of the room. He walked forward, grabbing the note and holding it up to his face, hands shaking as he read it out loud.

“You took everything from me. Now I’m going to steal everything from you. Your company, your empire, and your… life.”

His hands tremble as he looks around the room, a realization quickly dawning on him.

Pickpocket was a thief.

Stealthy.

Motivated.

He got past all of Gouldern’s security measures, he found the building he would be in, and he struck.

And now, he could be anywhere.

Cut.

THE CRYPTKEEPER VS. MALICE
SINGLES MATCH

War Machine made a huge statement last week but was it written in the history books or will it be a simple footnote in the story of OSW?

The bell sounds as both men begin exchanging heavy blows, neither one giving an inch before a stiff low kick staggers Malice before a rake to the eyes blinds the larger man. The Keeper whips him across the ring before nearly taking his head off with a Big Boot in the BEGINNING, MIDDLE AND END! The Keeper drops down, looking for an early victory, ONE…POWERFUL KICKOUT! The Keeper pulls Malice up to his feet only to be met with a stiff right that rocks him, before a stiff Spinebuster puts the Storyteller nearly through the mat.

Malice pulls the Keeper off the mat, drilling him with a hard belly to bell suplex, keeping the hold on the waist as Malice pulls him up into a Northern Lights, rolling through once again as he hoists the Keeper up high before dropping him on the back of his head with a BACKDROP DRIVER! The Keeper is stunned as Malice backs up before nearly taking his head off with a huge LARIAT FROM HELL! The Keeper is spun 180 in the air from the sheer force before crashing hard on the mat below.

Malice backs up once more, looking to spear right damn through the Keeper but as he rushes forward, another END nearly knocks Malice clean out. The Keeper tries to lift Malice into the air with a Suplex but Malice manages to land on his feet, powering the Cryptkeeper up onto his shoulders in a Torture Rack but before he can spin him down, The Keeper slips out, CURSE OF THE CRYPTKEEPER TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! The European Uppercut hits with force as Malice collapses to the canvas, The Keeper quickly hooking the leg for the victory, ONE…TWO…THREE!!!

The Cryptkeeper adds another victory to his story tonight, facing down an incredible opponent in Malice but the Cryptkeepers Curse takes down any man.

THE EDGE
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Previously Recorded

Alton Whitlock. Battered and broken, limping heavily, walks slowly down a darkened city street. A street that he once swore to usher into a ‘better world’. As he looks now at the dark and decrepit street, that promise that of late seems to be in tatters. His face is troubled beyond the pain in his body as the hands of his once team mates and War Machine.

From behind him, a sound makes his stop in his tracks. The whooshing sound of something gliding past in the dark on giant wings. He makes an effort to turn his head to the sound, but grimaces in pain from his battered neck.

It is then that he is knocked to the ground from behind. Red Death stands over him.

“These streets aren’t quite what you pictured, are they? Your almighty vision. Is this the better world you promised people, or just another of your filthy lies?”

Red Death pauses for a moment, as a police siren wails in the distance.

“You fill your own cup, looking for your own gain, yet these streets have never been more dangerous. They died… Where was their better world?”

Death lifts Whitlock up by the scruff of his neck and looks right into his eyes.

“They believed in something better. You lied to them.”

He pushes Whitlock up against the brick wall of a towering building.

“Nobody else deserves to be hurt because of your lies. A presidency bought out of the blood of these streets. They stop now.”

Whitlock struggles free, a wild look in his own eyes. Grabbing Red Death, he leads him by the hand and drives his head into the wall. He slams Red Death’s head up against the brick over and over and over until his foe lies unconscious at his feet.

“I am not the problem to these streets. You pushed me to the edge when I offered you something more. This is on you, Kirby.”

Whitlock staggers away, still battered and broken, but in decidedly better shape than Red Death.

Cut.

MAJOR THOM VS. THE RED DEATH
SINGLES MATCH

Behind the cowl and behind the camouflage, two disgraced heroes clash!

Thom charges into Death – not for the first time in his life! He overpowers his smaller opponent with close-quarters, hand-to-hand combat. The Vet dismantles Kirby’s joints in the same way he disrupts social, political, and military efforts. A SABOTAGE bicycle kick sends him over the ropes to the floor!

At a ring-out count of 5, Major shakes his head and pursues Red. He wants to hurt him some more. SABOTA—DROP-TOE HOLD INTO THE STEEL STAIRS! Death counters the bicycle kick, caving-in Thom’s skull! The Guantanamo inmate stumbles to his feet. Crimson Scourge grabs a headlock and runs up the steel post… Modified turnbuckle bulldog – THE KILLING JOKE!

Red rolls in and out to break the official’s 8-count. His hatred won’t let him end this cheaply, either. He shoves Major under the ropes. ONE… TWO… SHOULDER UP! Thom’s gotta have a concussion, but he soldiers on! Death backs up… DARKNESS FALLS – BUT NOT TONIGHT! Major blocks the curb stomp and scoops him up into A FALL FROM GRACE electric chair! ONE… TWO… KICKOUT!

Both men are down and out. Thom has fought insurgents and terrorists, but this guy is something else entirely! Likewise, Death is going to need anti-materiel rounds to put this tank out of commission! They rise at the same time. Red charges Major, only to receive THE CODE RED F-5! Thom confirms the kill with ANOTHER CODE RED! ONE… TWO… THREE!

Major Thom savours the smell of napalm in the morning!

NECESSITY
BACKSTAGE

Sigil paces the dark halls in the depths of The Slaughterhouse. There’s a tension in his steps–like he’s lost in thought.

So when Luke Storm, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, his face obscured by shadows, appears behind him?

The Collector doesn’t notice.

And as Luke Storm plows forward, determination is his eyes–Sigil doesn’t seem him coming.

As he moves, Storm’s breathing is rough and ragged. He’s scathing with anger.

Abruptly, a ferocious shove from Storm puts Sigil on the ground. Sigil scrambles backward, creating distance between himself and the OSW champion.

“Our discussion from last week?” Storm asks as he pulls his hood down. “It wasn’t finished.”

Sigil picks himself up on the floor, then releases a sneering laugh.

“Pawns like you are better off keeping their mouths shut,” he says.

“Pawn?” asks Luke. “That’s what you think I am?”

“That’s what I know you are. Newton’s favorite little plaything to torture.”

“Everyone’s a pawn to him,” Storm says. “Variables in some fucked-up equation. You too. You’ll see.”

“I have larger concerns than Edward’s strange machinations and your sniveling little daughter,” Sigil says.

Storm doesn’t take the bait. “I want to know why,” he says.

“Why?”

“Why did you show Kirby what you showed him? What do you have to gain? What’s the point?”

Sigil takes a step forward.

“It was a necessity,” The Collector says. “A requirement to get what I want. To ensure I’m prepared when the time comes.”

At this moment, vague answers and cryptic responses are not what Luke Storm wants to hear.

His rage overtakes him. He loses control of himself: and a supercharged haymaker comes flying directly at Sigil’s face. But The Collector deftly dodges the blow. Storm’s fist meets the dirty concrete wall. He grunts loudly.

“You’re like a puppet, but instead of dancing… you’re suffering on a string,” Sigil says, laughing. “But your anger, your fury–and your fear–they’ve blinded you. It’s pathetic.”

Storm stares down at his bleeding fist, his chest heaving with adrenaline and emotion.

“And, it’s a pity,” Sigil continues. “Because it will make it all too easy to take that beautiful belt from you–and add it to my collection.”

But Storm isn’t listening.

Inside his head, the fog of fury and disbelief is clearing.

Suffering on a string.

But who’s holding the other end?

“Newton,” Storm whispers to himself; his voice trembles with disgust.

When he finally looks up, his head is starting to clear. But Sigil is gone.

Cut.

TECH
SOMEWHERE ELSE

In the middle of an enormous warehouse, a man wearing a lab coat threats over a clipboard in his hand.

He clearly has some bad news.

Bad news that his boss, one Mark Gouldern, likely won’t want to hear.

As the aforementioned approaches, the worker gets more nervous.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he blurts out, stammering.

Gouldern frowns.

“The tech is gone,” he says with a gulp. “It up and vanished.”

Mark looks at him as if he’s just lost a million dollars. The look on his face is palpable – the colour has drained from it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He curses, forgoing any of his usual manners. “Did someone take it?”

“We’re investigating that, sir. We were running diagnostics and had it hooked up to the computers overnight. We hadn’t properly initialised it but as you know, this is a new kind of tech that we aren’t entirely familiar with; you designed it yourself, did you not?”

Mark and the man begin walking together.

“I did,” he admits. “And I didn’t expect it to go missing. Look, there’s millions of dollars in that technology, both in replicated streams and in the current alpha test phase. If we can get that tech up and running efficiently, the applications will be global.”

They enter a large room, where there’s nothing – no tech, no nothing.

“Secure the security footage,” Gouldern demands. “I want a team investigating this immediately. I want that tech back.”

“Of course, absolutely, we’re on it as we speak,” the man replies nervously. “Ill update you as soon as I have something.”

Mark puts his hands on his hips – he’s clearly distraught.

Whatever he was working on, it may have just cost him a small fortune.

Cut.

JESSIE WILLIAMS & PLAGUE RAT VS. DICE
TWO V ONE MATCH

It’s a clash of styles and personalities at its finest, as Jessie Williams finds himself teaming with The Plague Rat to take on Dice in a two on one match.

Williams and Dice start things off, trading strikes until Dice pulls out a set of dice to make his first big move of the match…only for Williams to lay him out with a clothesline! Williams feels the momentum on his side as he hits a big leg drop on Dice.

Plague Rat is chomping at the bit as Williams tags him in, but Dice is able to get back up. The fresh pair go at each other in the ring, with the bigger man TPR sending Dice into the corner, charging at him with great force!

Dice dodges at the last minute, forcing the Pandemic to crash into the turnbuckle! REVERSE DDT! Dice catches TPR with a Reverse DDT, driving the back of his head into the canvas! He goes for the cover, but Jessie breaks up the pin attempt which leads to anarchy within the squared circle!

Dice gets back to his feet, rushing in with a roll of the dice…DICE OF THE STONE GIANT! Dice has gained the power of stone, charging toward TPR…BOOMSTICK BY WILLIAMS! Dice is rocked as TPR spins him around…BLACK DEATH! That’s gotta be it as TPR covers! ONE! TWO! THREE!

The Prince and the Pandemic manage to pick up a win tonight!

THE REAPER VS. DICE
SINGLES MATCH

The Reaper’s recovered from Dice’s backstage attack earlier, and he’s fucking livid!

The referee calls for the bell-THE SHOTGUN BLAST RIGHT OUT OF THE GATE! Dice is floored, but the Harvester isn’t done! He lifts the limp man up to his feet before hoisting him up on his shoulders. Not a second later, he PLANTS him with Justice Brought!

Dice is writhing in pain as he attempts to roll out of the ring. The Reaper isn’t having any of it, however, as he grabs a handful of hair and tosses him into the corner. The Harvester marches towards his newest victim and unloads a flurry of closed right hands on Dice’s face! The referee counts to four before he separates the Reaper from the almost certainly unconscious Dice.

Dice falls to the mat face first as The Reaper gets told off by the official. The referee turns around and notices the unresponsive Dice. This gives The Harvester time to prop Dice back up to the corner and take a few steps back. He charges forward AND UNLOADS ANOTHER SHOTGUN BLAST! YOU CAN SEE TEETH FLY OUT OF HIS MOUTH AS HE FLOPS TO THE FLOOR AGAIN!

The referee, sensing that the Reaper won’t actually finish the match, calls for the bell! Reaper wins this by knock out!

NO DICE
RINGSIDE

After Dice loses his second consecutive match of the evening, he stumbles back to his feet, searching his person for his magical dice.

But he can’t find them.

Panic suddenly sets in.

He hardly has time to turn around before The Plague Rat is on him.

Furious right hands slam into Dice’s skull, sending him reeling towards the ropes. TPR looks set to make a statement after that earlier threat and nails him with a Clothesline.

He drops to his knees, pulling a knife from inside his jean pocket.

“It was said that my brother was terrifying,” he growls, holding the knife to a terrified Dice’s throat. “But everything he did, it was always well thought out and manipulated. He never just reacted.”

Plague’s toothy grin looms large.

“I’m not like my brother, Dice,” he reminds him. “I don’t think, I just react.”

Suddenly, he draws the knife across Dice’s throat, slitting it in the middle of the ring. Blood pours out all over the canvas, spurting up at Plague’s face, who smiles with absolute joy, loving every minute of it.

As Dice chokes beneath him, he gets up and cleans the knife on his dirty jeans.

The fans can’t believe it.

“None of you are safe,” he roars. “The plague is here and now. Let this fucking cunt serve as a reminder that no-one threatens The Plague Rat.”

We fade out with a final shot of Dice bleeding to death on the canvas.

Cut.

WHAT WARRIORS ARE MADE OF
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Last Week

Kazaku has just slaughtered three men in her wolf form and she is running far away from the scene. She runs out of the alley and into a park. She transforms back into her human form under the shadow of a tree and sobs loudly. Between the sobs, there is anger coming out as she speaks.

“Why did I do that? I fled those bastards so I’d stop killing. I don’t want to be that creature anymore.”

“Don’t say that ever again. That was the most splendid display of righteous fury since I’ve stepped in this bastion of filth.”

It’s Gabriel Drake, he has been in the shadows waiting for her. He has a sly grin as he speaks.

“It’s been three score since I’ve seen your kind and it still astonishes me how quick even the least experienced of you are with your kills. Our virgin vampires tend to make a show of it before they penetrate the flesh. Usually a not so subtle way to disguise they weren’t ready for the task. However, you creatures kill like trained soldiers the moment you learn how to transmogrify. You see, I’ve always wanted to challenge a lycan, see if my experience can overcome your sheer brutality. However, I want to face you at your strongest when the moon is full. The shell you are at this moment is no match for me.”

“What if I say no? I don’t ever want to become that thing again.”

“Sorry, my dear, you don’t have a choice. Lunar forces dictate your form on the night of pandemonium. I just want to see if I can defeat it.”

“If you feel like you must, go for it. Only two things can happen, one, you die like the rest or two, I don’t have to live anymore. I’m not that worried, leech.”

“I’ll take it but before that fateful night, I want to see the warrior you truly are. Show me your true might against the mightiest human this place had to offer. If you can solve the riddle that is Newton, I will know I have found my greatest challenge. Show me what warriors are made of, Okami.”

“Fine, either way I’m your greatest challenge when the moon is full no matter what my current form can do. I hope you’re ready for your dream. It’s about to be a nightmare. “

“Good thing I don’t sleep.”

Drake smirks as Kazaku storms off.

Cut.

EDWARD NEWTON VS. KAZAKU
SINGLES MATCH

A warrior unparalleled in the western world faces one of the greatest in the eastern. Can Kazaku do the impossible and defeat the Riddler or will she be but another victim?

The bell sounds as Kazaku rushes forward, rushing Newton with a series of lefts and rights that takes Newton by surprise as a step up enziguri knocks him for a loop before he’s thrown onto the bottom rope with a leaping hurricanrana. Dazed, Newton gets a full face of the Tiger Feint Kick sending him crashing to the mat as Kazaku rushes to the top rope, quickly leaping off with the SHI NO WA! WHEEL OF DEATH SHOOTING STAR hits flush as Kazaku hooks the leg for the cover

ONE…TWO…THR…NEWTON JUST GETS THE SHOULDER UP! Kazaku tries to pull Newton up to his feet but gets dropped throat first onto the bottom rope for her troubles. She staggers up short of breath right into a single arm DDT as she’s driven down hard into the mat. Newton begins stomping away, visibly pissed he nearly got put away so easily as he pulls her up to a seated position, trying for a hard kick to the chest but Kazaku ducks it, rolling Newton up.

ONE…TW…Newton kicks out! Newton gets to his feet, trying for a clothesline that Kazaku ducks under, delivering a stiff roundhouse kick before leaping over Newton, YASEI NI- INTO THE…ENGIMA THEROM! Newton countered at the last moment into the Death Valley Driver but he isn’t done, wanting to punish Kazaku here as he grabs her by the legs before locking in THE RIDDLE BOX! Kazaku tries to fight out but the hold is locked in tight in the middle of the ring as she’s forced to tap out!

The Riddler does it again, adding another victim to his list but Kazaku gave him a huge fight here tonight.

THE HARD WAY
SOMEWHERE ELSE

Flash Forward

Next Week.

The walkie talkie crackled. “Spot to the south.”

Major Thom snaps up from the couch he was sitting on, grabbing the walkie talkie as he walks over to a window.

“Talk me on.”

Thom keeps his eyes fixed out the window, absolutely motionless. Malice comes over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

“They took the bait?”

Thom nods.

“They’re big, but they’re fast.” Bishop’s voice says, coming over the walkie talkie.

With a smile, Major Thom closes his eyes.

“Copy. Keep your eyes open. Don’t lose them.”

“I can take the shot from here.” Malice interjected, the scope of his rifle following a large shadow. “Easy.”

“Negative.” Thom says instantly. “We can’t take the titles from a dead man.”

“Copy.” Malice answers, barely a growl.

After a moment of tense silence, Bishop’s voice cuts through.

“He’s on the roof.”

Static.

Malice shakes his head, heading for the door.

“Time to do this my way.”

The door shuts behind him before Thom can comment.

Long, painful minutes passed.

Down the hall somewhere, a long burst fired off out of a rifle.

Malice’s rifle.

“Report!” Thom ordered.

Nothing.

The next few seconds were like a hallucination as Thom headed for the door. Simultaneously, the door exploded and the room seemed to fill with an unseen energy. The Major was knocked backwards, rising to his feet ready for a fight as the bodies of Malice and Bishop are unceremoniously dumped in front of him.

Along with Malice’s rifle.

Ripped in fucking half.

Stepping through the exploded doorway are Banzan and Aesop, the former’s body still glowing from the discharge of his life force that caused the explosion.

“Peace is a luxury, Major.” Banzan says, his eyes full of fury. “One we no longer have.”

Aesop kicks at the barely conscious Bishop.

“War benefits no one.” He begins, eyeballing Thom. “But sometimes it is necessary. You’ll have your title shot. Next week at Pandemonium. No more ambushes. A true war.”

Aesop turns to leave while Banzan eyeballs the Major.

“Next time you set a trap, my friend,” He cautions. “Make sure it’s big enough for the prey.”

Cut.

BEG VS. THE JUDGE
SINGLES MATCH

The Tycoon gets his day in court. Will Order be restored? Or will BEG once again evade authority?

JUDGE and BEG lock eyes as they begin to circle the ring. It’s pretty clear how each of them are planning to attack, BEG transitions JUDGE’S grapple attempt into a wrist lock and then into an irish whip, knocking JUDGE to the canvas with a big missile dropkick. BEG jolts back up and meets a rising Judge, ducking his Lariat attempt – DROP TOE HOLD!

BEG quickly transitions for the FINANCIAL CRISIS! BEG’s looking for the early finish! He applies 95% of the hold as he desperately tries to gather the proper amount of leverage but JUDGE’S brute strength comes into play as he fights through BEG’s attempt and slowly creeps up to his feet with BEG in a Samoan Drop position!

BEG is clawing for a reversal attempt – he manages to swing himself into INVERTED DDT! BEG moves quickly for the KATA HA JIME! OVERDRAFT FEE! BEG wrenches and wrenches trying desperately to penetrate the thick armour JUDGE dawns. BEG gives up on the strangle attempt as JUDGE is really coming to. He throws a right! CAUGHT! JUDGE snatches BEG’s feeble attempt and begins squeezing the life out of BEG’s hand! BEG drops to a knee thriving in pain as the bones in his hand begin to shift.

Mickey McGuiness has seen enough! He’s got a chair and he’s going to save his boss! The referee notices and takes a step in between but Mickey doesn’t understand JUDGE is the all-seeing. Without even turning his head away from BEG, his free hand rips the chair away from Mickey and in one fowl swoop he sends Mickey reeling across the ring.

JUDGE with two free hands now transitions and has BEG by the throat! He’s choking the life out of him! BEG throws a counter left! JUDGE dodges! His momentum takes him right into a CHOKESLAM! JUDGE nearly puts BEG through the mat! He tries to rush back out of harms way but a stiff boot to the head puts him face first back on the mat. JUDGE easily lifts him back to his feet, he’s got all day to set up the…. IS THIS IT!? WILL HONOR BE RESTORED!? NO! OMG! HUGE BUCKLE BOMB!

BEG is in no man’s land, stumbling into the middle of the ring. It’s only a matter of time – RESTORATION!

ONE! TWO! THREE!

The Judge has decided that Order is to be Restored.

GET OUT
SOMEWHERE ELSE

YESTERDAY.

Gary, Indiana.

SeeSaw hangs from an X-shaped cross in the street, beaten, battered, bruised, a bandana tight around his mouth.

The town full of Junkrats curse, hiss, and boo at SeeSaw.

SeeSaw snarls.

Mayor Junkrat steps forward.

“Here hangs the man who took our Number One away from us. The man who ruined our lives. The man who stole our reason for living.”

Several Junkrats sniffle. More cry.

The Mayor, holding angry tears in his eyes, shouts.

“Shall we send him on his way then?”

“AYE!” Everyone screams in unison.

Mayor Junkrat steps up to the cross and unties SeeSaw. Emaciated, instead of fighting back, SeeSaw crumples to the ground beneath him.

The Sea of Junkrats in attendance parts.

SeeSaw looks up at Junkrat.

“Go,” Junkrat says. “Get out. Because the next time I see you, you little fucker…”

Junkrat grabs SeeSaw by his face and gets nose to nose. “I’m killing you.”

SeeSaw slowly climbs to his feet.

He limps down the aisle of Junkrats.

“Fuck you,” one of them says, and hits SeeSaw right in the face with a tomato.

SeeSaw chuckles.

“Your t.v. show sucks,” says another. Hits him with a tomato.

“Kids laugh at you because you’re such a fucking loser.”

Tomato.

The chuckle becomes a laugh.

More insults.

“The world would be better off if your mom had an abortion, mate.”

“No one likes you.”

“Your toys are stupid.”

Tomato. Tomato.

Tomato.

SeeSaw gleefully and maniacally laughs with that bandana in his mouth.

He is hit with a hundred more tomatoes, and harder by each accompanying insult.

SeeSaw sprints as he reaches the end of the aisle, and finds that he is indeed free of the Junkrats.

His laughter suddenly becomes wails.

Tears STREAM down SeeSaw’s face as he runs.

It’s been a long time since he’s been hurt by such mean, awful bullies.

Yep, a long time.

But he knew how to handle bullies, didn’t he?

He just… He just had to show them how to play nice.

That’s all… Hehe… Every last one of them.

GOULDERN VS. LUKE STORM VS. SEESAW VS. AESOP
FATAL FOUR WAY MATCH

A fatal four-way showcase tonight of some of the top guys in the company! It’s Aesop, Gouldern, SeeSaw, and OSW World Champion Storm in action!

The bell rings and Aesop, Gouldern, and SeeSaw immediately move in on Luke Storm! But the champ doesn’t back down! Knife edged chop to SeeSaw, roundhouse kick to Gouldern! But Aesop wraps Storm up from behind and drops him with a BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX! SeeSaw puts his foot on the Champion’s back!

STRETCH ARMSTRONG BY SEESAW! And Aesop tumbles over the top rope!!! Gouldern with a sneaky clothesline sending the ancient one to the outside!!! SeeSaw get spun around! PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE!!! THE ELEVATED DDT DROPS SEESAW!!! Mark Gouldern and his technology beckon Storm to reach his feet. Storm, slowly but surely gets there.

THE DISRUPTION!!! NO!!! AESOP CUTS GOULDERN IN HALF WITH A SPEAR AS HE’S IN MIDAIR!!! GOULDERN FOLDS LIKE A DAMN CHAIR!!! Aesop turns around! LIGHTNING STRIKE BY LUKE STORM!!! STORM MAKES THE COVER ON AESOP!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! NO!!! FLIGHT OF THE FUCKING ORNITHOPTER FROM SEESAW!!!

Everyone is laid out!!! It’s Gouldern whose suit helps aid him to his feet first, but Aesop reaches his feet not a moment later. Aesop avoids a clothesline from Gouldern, and swoops around him! DRAGON SLEEPER!!! INTO THE DDT!!! THAT’S AESOP’S FABLE!!! HE MAKES THE COVER!!! ONE!!! SEESAW IS TRYING TO GET THERE!!! TWO!!! HE CAN’T QUITE MAKE IT!!! THREEEEEE!!!! NO!!! SEESAW DRAGS AESOP OFF HIM JUST IN TIME!!! AESOP QUICKLY REACHES HIS FEET, BUT A BOOT TO THE GUT DESTABILIZES HIM!!! SEESAW SPINS AESOP AROUND!!! THE TEETER TOTTER!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEE!!!!

SeeSaw picks up a victory over three big time opponents!

OUR GREATEST ENEMY
SOMEWHERE ELSE

In the darkened halls of the middle of no-where, we arrive before a large oak table.

We remember this place.

The Hall of Skulls.

Four chairs sit around the table, each occupied by a hooded skull.

Flavo, the yellow skull, is sat at the head of the table on this occasion, surrounded by his peers.

“Everything is set,” he announces. “Sigil has acquired a force of great energy to face Viridi at Ring of Dreams.”

Rubrum folds his arms.

“He will need to break the bond of time. Breaking the bond between a crystal and its holder is nigh on impossible. Do you think he’ll succeed?”

“We’ve thought it impossible, until now,” Flavo admits. “But the keys – the Championships, have stopped powers being used inside the building. That’s how we stop Viridi. When Sigil faces him at Ring of Dreams, he will bring the might of his new accompaniment and their combined power should allow him to break the bond.”

“These must be some extremely powerful people,” one of the other Skulls questions.

“You have no idea,” Flavo retorts.

Rubrum nods in agreement.

“Breaking the bond between our greatest enemy and said crystal will allow Sigil to take his place at our table in protection of the world. Should he fail, we may need to consult him.”

There’s an eerie silence at that suggestion.

Whoever he is, everyone at this table is terrified of him.

Cut.

WINONA
SOMEWHERE ELSE

In the middle of an idyllic little street, a young four-year-old girl plays with a ball in her backyard. She’s tossing it about, from left to right, when it suddenly pops over the fence and bounces into the road.

Without thinking, she opens the white wooden gate and runs into the street, looking for it.

It’s right in the middle of the road.

In her playful innocence, she darts for it.

Her mother, realizing what’s occurred, screams in terror as a vehicle comes speeding around the corner, right towards her daughter.

Out of no-where, Malice leaps in the way, grabbing the young girl and rolling her to safety just as the car arrives at their destination.

By the time the mother arrives, Malice is on the ground with the kid, who seems none the wiser about what’s just occurred.

“Oh my God,” she bellows. “Thank you so much. Thank you!”

Malice nods, helping the little girl back into her mother’s arms as he gets his giant frame back to his feet.

“I’m Winona,” she offers with a firm handshake that Malice accepts.

“I’m Miles,” Malice replies with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she says, almost somewhat flirtatiously. “You turn your back for one minute and-“

“I can only imagine. It’s lucky, I was just heading next door to check out that house for sale when I spotted her,” he says, pointing to the for-sale sign on the sidewalk. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Me too,” Winona says. “Look, how about I give you my number and we get a drink sometime. It’s the least I could do to thank you.”

“I’d like that,” he says, pulling out his cell phone. “I’d like that a lot.”

Cut.

ALTON WHITLOCK VS. PICKPOCKET
STEEL CAGE MATCH

Pickpocket is out for blood–what better way to get in than inside the steel cage? It’s Pickpocket taking on Alton Whitlock, tonight on Nitro!

Pickpocket immediately charges Whitlock and LOU THESZ PRESS OUT OF THE GATE!!! PIPING HOT!!! Pickpocket begins beating the living shit out of the politician! Alton keeps his guard up to minimize the damage. HEADBUTT by Pickpocket! Another Headbutt! Another! Alton’s nose is bleeding! Pickpocket stands to his feet. “C’mon!” Pickpocket screams. “Get up!”

“I’m so sorry,” Whitlock says. “Pickpocket, please trust that I never wanted that to happen!” Pickpocket screams, frustrated. He sends a boot straight into Alton’s gut! Another! Then proceeds to just stomp the politician a brand new mudhole for that ass! “It doesn’t matter what you wanted to happen,” Pickpocket screams! “All that matters is it happened.”

Pickpocket drags Alton up to his feet. Alton shoves him away, but Pocket sends a forearm to Alton’s bloody face! He whips Alton into the ropes! He chases behind him! CLOTHESLINE OVER THE TOP ROPE! Pickpocket follows behind. He grabs Alton by the head and drags him to the steel cage! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! Alton has to be concussed after three vicious shots to the head!

Pickpocket rolls Alton into the ring! But Pickpocket scales the steel cage! His spindly body reaches the top rather quickly. The crowd cheers Pickpocket on! He SCREAMS and LEAPS!!! ELBOW DROP ONTO ALTON WHITLOCK!!! NO!!! WHITLOCK CATCHES HIM WITH THE KNEES!!! SMALL PACKAGE!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEE!!! NO, GOD DAMN IT, NO!!!

The wily Alton Whitlock steals a victory right out of the thief’s hands!

NEXT
RINGSIDE

In the middle of the ring, Alton Whitlock and Pickpocket are back to their feet after their incredibly one-sided match.

Whitlock, exhausted, tries to calm Pickpocket enough to speak to him.

“I’m sorry,” he pleads. “Please believe me, I didn’t want this.”

Pickpocket doesn’t answer.

But Berkshire Ellison Green does, walking down to the cage with a microphone in hand. He stops outside it, leaning his face up against it.

“That’s what he tells you, but he knew exactly what he was getting into when he joined Imperium,” BEG reminds Pickpocket, who looks like the rage is building. “He knew there would be causalities and didn’t care.”

Pickpocket begins to ball his fists.

“Think about everything you went through. What about the war with Scrimshaw that almost killed you both? Whitlock and X planned that.”

“That’s a lie,” Whitlock interrupts. “We executed plans belonging to Green and Gouldern. They dictated everything.”

Suddenly, Pickpocket snaps.

He storms towards Alton, slamming him head first into the cage.

Again.

Again.

And again, until he busts him wide open.

The Politician falls backwards in a massive heap as Berkshire Elision Green looks on with a ginormous shit-eating grin.

“Why’re you smiling?” Pickpocket growls. “You’re next.”

BEG backs away, gulping.

The Thief mounts Alton, pulling a set of brass knuckles from his pocket and popping them on. He then goes to pummelling him with right hands, leaving him with one final right hook for good measure.

He stands up, exhausted and infuriated.

His attention turned to a shocked Green.

“As far as I’m concerned, each and every single one of you had a part to play in the death of my friend,” he bellows. “And all of you will pay, Gouldern most of all.”

Cut.

GABRIEL DRAKE VS. SIGIL
SINGLES MATCH

Tonight, we have an ironman match! Gabriel Drake and Sigil have 30 minutes to prove who is the better man tonight! Will Sigil collect another prize or will Gabriel Drake find new prey? We find out next!

DING! DING!

Thirty minutes are on the clock and Sigil rushes at Gabriel Drake!

PLANESWALKER!

HE HITS THE DROPKICK SENDING DRAKE ACROSS THE RING INTO THE TURNBUCKLES HARD!

HE COVERS QUICKLY!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

THREE!

SIGIL IS ON THE BOARD 1-0 AND ONLY THIRTY SECONDS ARE GONE OFF THE CLOCK!

Sigil stands up just to drop back down and make another cover! ONE…TWO…NO! He gets the shoulder up this time and Sigil backs into the opposite corner waiting for Drake to stand back up! The vampire is starting to rise and Sigil charges at him again! Sigil jumps for the dropkick!

PLANESWALK…NO!

DRAKE CAUGHT HIM WITH THE COBRA CLUTCH!

SIGIL IS FADING AND DRAKE TURNS IT INTO A BACKBREAKER!

FEAST OR FAMINE!

HE’S HOLDING ON THE CLUTCH!

WILL SIGIL TAP?

HE’S FIGHTING BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T GET OUT OF IT!

HE TAPS AND DRAKE THROWS HIM DOWN!

SIGIL PRESERVES HIS BODY FOR THE REST OF THE MATCH!

IT’S TIED 1-1 AND 28 MINUTES ARE LEFT!

Sigil is down and Drake starts stomping away on him! Stomp after stomp is keeping Sigil down! Drake slows down and raises his foot for one large stomp! Sigil rolls out of the ring at the last second! Drake follows him and goes for the clothesline! Sigil ducks it and follows with the superkick! Drake is stunned and Sigil throws him into the barricade! Sigil wraps Drake’s arms with the barricade and starts clawing at him!

FOR THE COLLECTION!

CLAW STRIKE AFTER CLAW STRIKE TO THE CHEST!

GABRIEL SEEMS TO BE ENJOYING THIS! HE’S LAUGHING!

HE PULLS HIS ARMS OUT AND HOLDS UP HIS HAND! HE’S SHOWING THE NAILS HE HAS!

BLOOD DRIVE!

DRAKE IS CLAWING HARD AT SIGIL’S FACE AND HE IS BUSTED OPEN!

SIGIL HAS THE ONE THING HE DIDN’T WANT TO COLLECT, A CRIMSON MASK!

Sigil is pouring blood and Drake has him by the throat! Chokeslam on the apron! Sigil’s back must be in agony and Drake rolls him back into the ring! Drake covers! One…Two… No! Kick out by Sigil! Drake doesn’t let up as he starts driving elbows into Sigil’s ripped cheek! The blood is gushing and Drake wants more! He drives his claws into the canvas of the ring and rips it apart! He’s exposed the wood underneath and he is dragging Sigil to it by the back of the head!

HE DIGS HIS CLAWS INTO THE BACK OF SIGIL’S HEAD AND HE IS ABOUT TO START BASHING HIS FACE INTO THE FLOOR!

HE LIFTS SIGIL’S HEAD HIGH AND HE GOES TO SLAM IT!

COSMIC LEAP!

SIGIL TELEPORTS ABOVE DRAKE!

MERCIFUL!

CHOP TO THE BACK OF DRAKE’S NECK!

SIGIL COVERS!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

THREE!

SIGIL IS UP 2-1 AND THERE ARE 20 MINUTES LEFT!

Sigil grabs Drake’s hair and does what his opponent wanted to do! He starts bashing Drake’s face into the wood! Smash! Smash! Smash! He goes for one big smash but Drake puts his arms out to block it! Sigil backs up and goes for a punt kick to the face but Drake hops to his feet quickly and has Sigil by the throat! He holds on tight as he delivers knee after knee into Sigil’s stomach! He lifts Sigil high in the air and starts to fall backward!

THE FALL!

GABRIEL DRAKES HITS THE FALLING CHOKESLAM ON THE EXPOSED WOOD AND MAKES A COVER!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

THREE!

IT’S TIED AGAIN AT 2-2 AND THERE ARE 15 MINUTES LEFT!

Gabriel Drake covers again! One…Two…No! Sigil gets the shoulder up and Drake goes to the outside! He grabs a barricade and tosses it at a prone Sigil! Sigil teleports at the last second! He’s behind Drake! Dropkick to the back of Gabriel Drake! Sigil sends him flying into the barricade! Drake is down and he is seated against the barricade! Sigil grabs a chair from the crowd! He starts bashing Drake’s face repeatedly with the chair! Drake crumbles and Sigil rolls him into the ring!

SIGIL GRABS DRAKE’S LEG AND LOCKS IN THE CALF CRUSHER!

ON WOUNDED LEGS!

DRAKE FEELS EVERY PART OF HIS LEG GIVING UP AND HE IS FORCED TO TAP OUT!

SIGIL TAKES THE LEAD BACK AND IT IS 4-3 WITH TEN MINUTES TO GO!

SIGIL BACKS UP AND WAITS FOR DRAKE TO GET UP!

DRAKE IS UP BUT HE IS LIMPING!

SIGIL CHARGES AT HIM!

THE LORD’S SHADOW!

DRAKE STUNS SIGIL WITH A WHIP OF HIS CAPE!

DRAKE HOISTS SIGIL ON HIS SHOULDERS!

DEATH VALLEY DRIVER ON THE BARRICADE IN THE RING!

DRAKE COVERS!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

THREE!

THE SCORE IS TIED AT 4-4 WITH NINE MINUTES REMAINING!

Both competitors look beat as they are struggling to stand up! Drake is up to his feet first and he is limping to the barricade! He slowly drags it above the exposed wood of the ring! He has something in mind as he marches to Sigil! He grabs Sigil’s ankle and starts dragging him across the ring! Drake shoves Sigil’s head under the barricade and starts to climb the top rope! What is he going to do>!

DRAKE JUMPS OFF THE TOP ROPE!

HE IS GOING FOR A SENTON ON THE BARRICADE!

SIGIL GETS OUT FROM IT AT THE LAST SECOND AND DRAKE LANDS ON THE BARRICADE HARD!

SIGIL CRAWLS AND LAYS ON DRAKE FOR THE COVER!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

NO! DRAKE COUNTERS INTO A CRUCIFIX COVER!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

KICK OUT BY SIGIL!

IT’S STILL 4-4 WITH ONLY FIVE MINUTES LEFT!

They both look gassed as Sigil tries to pull up Drake! He gets him to his feet and whips him to the ropes! Sigil drops down and Drake leaps over him! He is still running! Sigil leapfrogs over Drake! Drake bounces off the ropes again! Perfect dropkick by Sigil who makes the cover! One…Two…No! Kick out by Drake!

FOUR MINUTES LEFT!

Sigil looks like he is done and he is grasping at Drake trying to lock him from behind for the German Suplex! Drake elbows out of it and tosses Sigil into the corner! Running big boot from Drake to make Sigil sit down! He is stomping away at him in the corner!

THREE MINUTES LEFT!

Drake pulls Sigil up to his feet and lays in some gut punches! Blow after blow leaves Sigil hunched over! He winds back for a huge one but Sigil turns him around and Drake is in the corner now! Sigil is laying in some rapid chops!

TWO MINUTES REMAINING!

Sigil lifts Drake and places him on the top corner! He is climbing up there with him! He knows he has to finish it now! They are trading blows left and right! It’s not clear who has the edge! Sigil with an uppercut! Drake with a clubbing blow!

ONE MINUTE LEFT!

THEY’RE STILL FIGHTING BUT DRAKE IS OVER SIGIL NOW!

FANGS OF DRAKE!

GABRIEL DRAKE IS BITING SIGIL’S NECK AND SIGIL FALLS ON THE MAT IN A HEAP!

DRAKE COVERS!

ONE!

. . .

TWO!

. . .

. . .

THREE!

DRAKE HAS MADE IT 5-4 AND IT LOOKS LIKE TIME HAS RUN OUT!

IT’S OVER!

GABRIEL DRAKE IS YOUR WINNER!

What a fight as Gabriel Drake has won against a very game Sigil!

THE PUT DOWN
IRON MAN MATCH

An office.

The sound of buzzing doors and metal sliding back and forth is only interrupted by the coughing and spluttering of an elderly man stood looking through a large glass window, smoking a cigarette.

“They’ll kill you; don’t you know?” a voice says from behind.

We remain behind the dirty glass, unable to see either of them for certain.

The man doesn’t turn around. He stays focused on us, if only the dirty smudges didn’t block our view.

“I figured it’d be a matter of time before you paid me a visit. Things haven’t quite worked out the way you planned,” the man admits, lowering his head shamefully. “Lord knows, I tried.”

“I trusted you with something very special, brother,” the man taunts. “Something you told me would be ready for Ring of Dreams.”

There’s a slight pause.

“I tried,” he admits with a sigh. “I pushed him towards every fierce bastard I could under false pretences, but despite his penchant for violence, he always came up short.”

“And what would happen if I put him in a room with you-know-who?” He enquires, folding his arms as a shadowy figure behind the man, behind the glass.

Another pause.

“He’d kill him,” he growls. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

A scoff.

“I thought you’d say that,” the man responds, shaking his head. “But we’re going to. At Ring of Dreams, they’re going to fight. Just like I planned.”

The man staring out of the glass finally turns around, almost panicked.

“No, please, don’t do it!” He begs.

There’s another pause.

“Your attachment is admirable, but he’s not really yours, is he?” The man says as he turns towards the door, opening it.

“I’m begging you. If I mean anything to you, if he means anything to you, please don’t put him in that position,” he pleads one more time. “Please.”

“If you would’ve done your job, I wouldn’t have to.”

Cut.