PERSON, PERSON & PERSON
Click.
Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.
Static.
Black and white.
The guitar riff opening of ‘Bad to the Bone’ is the very first thing we hear as we open ringside to kick off TerrorVision #241 in rare fashion.
Stood at the entrance top are Bad Mother Fuckers, smiling, gold strapped around their waist and draped over their shoulders.
“On the day I was born
The nurses all gathered ’round…”
“And they gazed in wide wonder
At the joy they had found…”
They slowly but surely begin making their methodically paced walk to the ring, soaking in the boos from the crowd.
“The head nurse spoke up
And she said “leave this one alone”
She could tell right away
That I was bad to the bone!”
bMf enter the ring and raise their arms in celebration, each grabbing themselves a microphone and steadying themselves.
The music finally stops, and we’re left eyes on the middle of the ring.
The boos almost drown us out.
“Do you really think we give a shit about your opinions?” Hollywood Luke Storm asks to a resounding chorus of boos. “Cheer us, boo us; you’re looking at the top fucking dogs.”
All three look at each other with a nod and a smile.
“Everyone saw what happened at Up in Smoke and all week I’ve been asked questions. Why? Why did you turn on your fans? Why did you make an alliance with Viper Roberts? Are you a snake?”
He takes his glasses off and rolls his eyes.
“Who… fucking… cares?” He scoffs. “You’re looking at the three baddest mother fuckers that walk the face of this planet and we’re putting Old School Wrestling on notice; we’re taking over.”
“ALLL ABOAAARRRDD!!”
The pulsating riff of Crazy Trains suddenly fills the Slaughterhouse, interrupting Luke Storm.
All in attendance turn their attention towards the entrance ramp and out steps the OSW World Champion, the Guv’nor, Albert Shaw.
The reaction to him here tonight is surprisingly celebrated; the fans clearly disliking bMf but also cheering him on. He has a microphone and sports a set of stitches on his forehead.
With the OSW Championship over one shoulder and the Double Feature over another, he smirks, continuing his interruption.
“Don’t mind me mate, I just heard you say you’re taking over and thought I’d come out here to show you a couple of titles you don’t have,” he says to a roar from the crowd. “Last week, you made a mug out of me – I won’t lie to ya, you mugged me right off. I’m sportin’ the stitches to prove it.”
“And yet here you are,” Storm interrupts. “Didn’t you learn a fucking thing, Shaw?”
“Oh, I’ve never been the best at School, mush,” he retorts with a smirk. “In one ear, out the other, as me ol’ dear used to say. But I will say this; you have my attention.”
Luke says something to Zero and laughs.
“I’m glad we’ve got your attention, because you have something I want,” he admits, pointing at a title on his shoulder – only it isn’t the one you’d think. “Whilst you’d be forgiven for thinking last week was about the OSW World Championship; you’d be wrong. It was about the one thing missing from my collection of achievements,” he announces. “The Double Feature title.”
Shaw drapes both titles down on the ramp, slowly and methodically. He steps back, shrugs and waves a hand.
“Don’t let me stop you then, mate,” he suggests. “If you want it, come and get it. See, I’m stood here lookin’ down at you three cunts and each of you have something I wouldn’t mind adding to my collection too,” he says with a point in their direction. “I’ll take a finger from each of ya.”
Suddenly, the lights go down and the Slaughterhouse falls deafly quiet. A fire suddenly ignites at the head of the ramp, spitting burning embers which crackle and pop in the air, breaking the silence.
The first few guitar licks of ‘Personal Jesus’ follow, prompting the arrival of Viper Roberts, who appears from behind the inferno, staring at Albie Shaw. He steps out with a microphone and storms his way to the ring, ignoring the Double Champion as he does.
Once inside, he stands opposite Bad Mother Fuckers – somewhat more comfortable than he should be.
“I hate to interrupt,” he says to a chorus of boos. “But I wanted to take this opportunity to clarify our agreement.”
Storm nods.
“Say no more, Roberts,” Luke agrees. “When I came around to your way of thinking, I know what we signed up for,” he says pointing at the group; of which Zero and Pyre nod likewise in agreement. “And believe me, whilst we’re not your snakes-”
WHACK!
Suddenly, SeeSaw attacks from behind with the MEMORY SLUGGER!
HE SLAMS IT STRAIGHT INTO THE BACK OF VIPER ROBERTS, SENDING HIM FLYING INTO LUKE STORM!
PYRE AND ZERO LEAP INTO ACTION, BACKING HIM OFF INTO THE CORNER!
As SeeSaw slugs it out, Albie Shaw stands on the rampway in with a smirk.
He shrugs.
THEN STORMS DOWN THE RAMP!
SHAW SLIDES INTO THE RING!
CLOTHESLINE TO ZERO!
CLOTHESLINE TO PYRE!
SEESAW RUNS AT HIM!
OVERHEAD DROP!
SEESAW LANDS ON HIS FEET AND SLIDES STRAIGHT TO THE OUTSIDE!
HE REACHES BACK IN, GRABBING ROBERTS BY THE LEG AND DRAGGING HIM TO THE OUTSIDE!
They immediately begin brawling as Shaw turns…
LIGHTNING STRIKE BY STORM!
SUPERKICK OUT OF NO-WHERE!
The OSW Champion stumbles backwards, turning around to a thunderous Clothesline by Zero!
FIREWALL!
SeeSaw and Viper Roberts brawl their way to the backstage as Albie Shaw gets stomped away at by bMf!
Storm starts directing traffic, demanding that his cohorts get him back to his feet –
ONLY HERE COMES FACES OF REASON!
TWO-FACE AND SIMON RUSH THE RING!
THIS IS A FUCKING MELEE!
Two-Face ducks under a Clothesline by Storm, who immediately slides to the outside to escape.
Pyre and Zero duck out before Simon can reach them too!
Faces of Reason stand tall in the ring, watching as Albie Shaw gets himself back to his feet and bMf exit towards the rampway.
Tonight, these six compete in a Trios Match in the Main Event.
Next week, Albie Shaw defends his Double Feature Championship against Luke Storm..
And bMf defend their Tag Team Championships against Faces of Reason at InVasion!
What a way to start the show.
NIGEL ROYAL VS. THE IMPALER
Is old money enough to end a legacy!?
Nigel eyes his towering opponent warily. To his surprise—and relief—The Impaler invites him to a collar-and-elbow. Rather, he dares him. A cocky Royal obliges. Legion with the go-behind… German suplex to Nigel! The blueblood sits up in shock; the 6’8”, 295-pounder just schooled him. Nursing his ego, the Brit scrambles to his feet and swings at his adversary—
The Impaler, however, floats Royal over with a fireman’s carry takedown! Grounding him, Dread Pirate Roberts turns him over, stepping between his legs – he’s looking for the Romero special! Contorting Nigel in mid-air, he goes for the dragon sleeper… EVE’S SNAKE! Will Royal submit!? Backwards headbutt by Nigel! A second, then a third! Impaler releases him.
Resorting to brawling his technically-inclined foe, The Bloodline to Greatness kicks his knee out. Darting into the ropes, he decapitates him with a clothesline! Flooring the masked dynasty, Nigel grabs his arm… CROSSFACE, AKA THE DUNGEONS OF LONDON! Impaler’s free hand hovers over the mat – will he tap!? Wait… HE POWERS TO HIS FEET, CARRYING ROYAL!
He doesn’t rely on his strength, but he’ll use it! Impaler shifts Nigel into a powerbomb position, running forwards… NIGHT CITY BLACKOU—ROYAL LANDS ON HIS FEET! Impaler quickly follows up – ADAM SMASHER!? NIGEL DUCKS THE LARIAT… BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX! Twice, thrice, four times – ROYAL FLUSH! He heads up top… SPITFI—NIGHT CITY BLACKOUT! The frog splash is caught with the powerbomb! ONE… TWO… THREE!
The Impaler’s lineage proves greater than the bloodline of Nigel Royal!
JESSIE WILLIAMS, JOANNA WILLIAMS & TENCHU
Jessie Williams.
He sits on a bench in the locker room, relaxing — a rare moment indeed for a member of the OSW Roster.
But all that’s for naught, because into the locker room waltzes Joanna.
“Get up,” she says. “It’s training day.”
Jessie grins. “For what exactly?”
“You’ve got a big fish to fry in the future, Jessie. Considering that shameful ass display against Two-Face, I figured we should start small.”
Jessie scowls at her demeaning words, but shakes it off. She’s right, after all.
“Walk with me,” she says, more a demand than a suggestion.
So Jessie stands and follows his sister into the hallway.
Tenchu.
He walks right by, all but ignoring the pair as he carries on his way.
“That thing. You feel it, don’t you?”
Jessie nods. “Something’s off with it,” he replies.
“Whatever brought it to life has to be evil,” Joanna states.
“So what?” Jessie asks. “I need to go kick his ass?”
“Yeah,” Joanna replies. “But not today. Today, we watch. We learn. And when we have it figured out, we put the fucker in its place.”
Jessie looks at Joanna and nods.
“Cool.”
Cut.
THE SANDMAN VS. SANCTUS BELLATOR
Will darkness extinguish the light!?
Sandman looms over Sanctus, who stands his ground. This ain’t his first demon-rodeo. BIEL TOSS! The Night Terror manhandles Bellator into the corner, rattling his ribcage with lefts and rights. He shotputs him sternum-first into the opposite corner. Sanctus stumbles out – right into a big boot! Sandman drops a leg across his throat. ONE… TW—KICKOUT!
The Dream Demon yanks Bellator to his feet. He sends him into the ropes… DEEP SLEEP!? NO! Sanctus counters the End of Days with a headscissors! Countless dizzying rotations later, he floors him with the armbar – ARM OF GOD! Ode to Lux with La Mistica! He transitions into the magistral cradle. ONE… TWO… KICKOUT!
Bouncing off the ropes, The Templar spikes a kneeling Sandman with a ‘rana. Scaling the turnbuckles, he looks up and mouths a prayer for Uncle Solomon… DIVING DOUBLE FOOT STOMP – TERRA TREMUIT! Wait – SANDMAN WAS PLAYING POSSUM! Sanctus rolls onto his feet, spinning round—DEEP SLEEP! The End of Days plants him. ONE… TWO… TH—SHOULDER UP!
Dragging Sanctus to the corner, Sandman sits him on top. He exits onto the apron, then scales the post himself. What in the… GOOZLE! No way!? TOP-ROPE TO SAND! NO! The Chosen One blocks the chokeslam with elbows to the skull—FORTY WINKS! Sandman with the eye gouge! He dismounts the turnbuckles, nullifying a rope break. BELLATOR TAPS!
The Sandman’s darkness extinguishes Bellator’s light!
DEATHNOTE & CORVUS
Corvus is walking down the halls when a stranger walks up, blocking his path.
“Are you Corvus?”
The Black Hand nods.
“I’ve been looking for you. You made a grave mistake betraying me.”
Corvus looks at the stranger confused.
“I haven’t betrayed you. I don’t know who you are.”
“I know you. You’ll pay for what you’ve done.”
Suddenly the man pulls out a blade, slicing his own throat wide open. A spurt of blood hits Corvus in the face, which he wipes off with little regard for what occurred.
He gets up when another stranger comes to Corvus, who raises an eyebrow.
“You broke your word.”
The stranger utters, a nervousness on their voice. Corvus notices the almost fearful look on the face of this new stranger.
“You’ll fall at the feet of the God of the New World, Corvus. You and your Black Hand can’t stop me!”
This person runs away quickly, not wanting to remain in the area any longer than needed.
Corvus looks around briefly before advancing through the hallway. He enters his locker room, where two strangers stand eerily still. Not one of them moving.
The Hidden Blade looks around, studying the behavior of everyone in front of him. He realizes this doesn’t seem to be their own doing.
“I know it’s you, Deathnote. Quit hiding.”
One of the strangers steps forward.
“This is a game, Corvus. When you betrayed me at Up in Smoke, you smited God. You turned your back on the God of this New World. The one who will replace the fallen ones.”
This stranger steps forward. Deathnote walks up behind them and whispers something in their ear. A look of fear comes over them as Deathnote hands them a gun. The person holds it to their head, pulling the trigger.
“Death is a powerful motivator. My notebook has the names of people and how they die. Some fear a gruesome and painful death.”
Deathnote glares at Corvus.
“You betrayed me, Corvus. We agreed to work together, eliminate the others. You betrayed that oath. So, now I will make you dance for your new God.”
Corvus lets loose his hidden blade and walks sternly towards Deathnote, grabs the other person, whispering in their ear as the Crow crosses the room.
The other person quickly steps in the way, Corvus’ blade going right through them but stopping Corvus from getting to Deathnote. The person falls dead to the ground.
“All this because I tried to win a match?”
Corvus looks at Deathnote, quizzically.
“No. This is for betraying me before the match began. What comes next, that’s for what happened in the ring. The blood of these weaklings is on your hands, literally.”
Deathnote turns and walks away as Corvus glares at him, a rage burning inside.
Cut
VOYNICH VS. TENCHU
The archaeologist has exhumed the remains of many warriors before – but never one like this!
Itching to redeem his title loss at Up in Smoke, Voynich charges into his much larger adversary. Tenchu ups his guard, absorbing blows, as he’s pushed into the corner. Best Kept Secret goes for the whip, but the mechanised ninja counters, sending Voynich into the opposing turnbuckles; the former Champion backflips over Tenchu… Dropkick! ONE… T—KICKOUT!
Undeterred, Voynich pulls him up and drapes his arm – he’s going for the brainbuster! MONOLI—SANDBAGGED! Tenchu hoists him up… Dropping him gut-first across the top rope! The Austrian bounces onto the mat. The Metal Shadow snares him in a dragon sleeper! Will Voynich tap out, or else succumb to the hold!?
ROPE BREAK! Tenchu diligently lets go. He heaves him up into the Death Valley Driver, AKA the LETHAL BLOW! Wait – Voynich lands on his feet… ISHTAR’S GATE lariato to Tenchu! The 6’7” Kodokushi doesn’t go down. HAMMERSTONE! The Superman punch drops him. What a one-two combo by Voynich! ONE… TWO… TH—SHOULDER UP!
The archaeologist can’t believe it. Grabbing Tenchu in a facelock, he guns it into the corner… EIGHTH WOND—DENIED! Tenchu avoids sliced bread #2. Voynich spins round – HIDDEN BLADE! The busaiku knee cuts him down. Tenchu lugs him up into the spinning inverted underhook facebuster – ODAWARA SENT!? COUNTER! EIGHTH WONDER by Voynich! ONE… TWO… THREE!
Voynich lays the ancient warrior to rest!
CXDY, NIGEL ROYAL & THE IMPALER
“Where is that son of a bitch!?”
The sounds of one angry, pissed off soul echoes through the backstage as doors are kicked in, tables are flipped over, and chairs are tossed aside. The source? CXDY, the Gold Standard himself.
“Royal! Get your cowardly ass out here!”
He finally barges into what appears to an office, something set up by Nigel Royal himself for business purposes. Carpeted and furnished with a large mahogany desk. Nigel Royal sits behind the desk, leaping up as CXDY rushes at him!
CXDY LEAPS CLEAR OVER THE DESK! ROYAL HAS AN ARM SHOVED UNDER HIS CHIN AS HE’S FORCED BACKWARDS INTO THE WALL!
“You thought I was done with you!? Huh!? Royal, I’m just gettin’ started!”
Nigel chokes as CXDY presses his forearm further forward. His face turns red and he tries to push CXDY back to no avail.
“Oh, we’ll be done here soon enough, peasant.”
Despite his situation, Nigel Royal is as arrogant as ever, the former Ring King even letting out a small smile that seems to infuriate CXDY all the more.
“Peasant? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Royal chuckles.
“Someone who came prepared. I knew you’d keep searching me out. That’s why your fate, and your family’s fate… they’re in our hands.”
“Our?”
CRACK!
BALL PEEN HAMMER TO THE BACK OF THE SKULL DROPS CXDY! THE IMPALER HAS ARRIVED!
Blood pours from CXDY’s skull as he collapses onto the carpet as Royal smirks down at him.
“Lovely. Now, about payment…”
The Impaler shakes his head.
“No need. I have everything I’ll need right here. Now, grab an arm.”
The two men haul the unconscious CXDY out of the office, heading to lord knows where.
Cut.
CAEL GABLE, ISRAEL GREYWOLF, SIGL & KAINE KNIGHTLORD
Somewhere backstage, we find Israel Grimwolf and Cael Gable getting ready for their trios match later tonight, discussing the game plan and getting along with Kaine Knightlord when suddenly, a portal opens…which garners an immediate response from Gable.
“Oh no, it’s him.”
Him, of course, being Sigil who steps out from the portal. Pirate Gold stare down the Collector, who simply gives them a cold glare in reply before he speaks with a slight nod.
“Gentlemen.”
The calm tone catches the pair off guard, even moreso from the sight of Sigil reaching into his satchel. This raises a sense of defensiveness from Gable and Grimwolf, who raise their fist in a stance ready to take the Realm Walker on…until he pulls out a rolled-up parchment.
“Israel, I understand you’re still looking for your crew…and I think I’ve found something to guide the way.”
Sigil reaches out, looking to hand the parchment over to the pirate. Gable scoffs at this, staring Sigil down…but before he can protest, Grimwolf accepts the offer with a quick swipe. Israel unrolls the parchment, revealing a map complete with a giant black X with some scribbled handwriting that reads “CURSED SOUL”…which draws a warm look of fondness and a smile from the pirate. The moment is spoiled by Gable interjecting with a concerned tone.
“Hold on, how are we…”
Before Gable can finish his question, Sigil disappears through one of his portals. Gable turns his attention to Grimwolf, who looks pleased as punch at his gift from the Collector.
“Israel, you don’t think this is real do you? That’s a man we go up against tonight…a man we have to deal with at Invasion!”
Israel chuckles, shaking his head at the thought.
“Aye, I can understand that…but this map leads right back to The Locker, matey. It checks out, I can just feel it in me bones.”
As the Captain scans the map once more, Gable seems less than convinced by the situation…as does Kaine Knightlord, watching carefully from the shadows and shaking his head slowly at the sight.
Cut.
MORDECAI VS. JESSIE WILLIAMS
The Gatekeeper can fend off battering rams, but has he bargained on the Boomstick!?
Jessie sizes up Mordecai—BOOMSTICK!? SIDE-STEPPED! Williams trying to end things right away with the Superman punch. Mordecai plucks him up effortlessly into a tilt-a-whirl slam! He peels him off the canvas—uppercut by The Prince! Mordecai falls to one knee; here comes the dropkick… GROOVY ECLI—CAUGHT BY MORDECAI! AIR RAID CRASH – MYOCLONIC TWITCH! ONE… TWO… KICKOUT!
The dream guardian stalks Williams, who gets to his feet… COBRA CLUTCH! Mordecai ragdolls him in the hold – SWEET DREAMS, JESSIE! He’s fading, fading… Before lurching forwards into the ropes! The 335-pound Mordecai crashes to the outside; remember – no countouts. The son of Ash ascends the turnbuckles… CALL OF THE CHOSEN – SWANTON TO THE FLOOR!
Having previously battled dream-entities, Jessie knows he needs to pull out all the stops tonight. He hauls Mordecai to his knees, ensconcing his head between his thighs… HAIL TO THE KING – SPINNING GOTCH PILEDRIVER ON THE GODDAMN FLOOR! He rolls him inside. ONE… TWO… TH—KICKOUT WITH AUTHORITY! Williams is bench-pressed off of Mordecai.
Getting to their feet, both competitors charge into each other… BOOMSTI—COUNTER—REALITY CHECK! Mordecai throws Jessie into the air, catching him on the way down with a biblical European uppercut! Williams falls backwards into the ropes, which propel him back into Mordecai… BELLY-TO-BACK PILEDRIVER – HYPNOGOGIA! He covers him. ONE… TWO… THREE!
Mordecai puts Jessie to sleep!
DARKLORD & BANZAN
As the crowd recovers from the barnburner between Jessie Williams and Mordecai, we find Banzan stood in the room just outside the entrance ramp. His eyes are closed, a faint glow seemingly emanating from within.
“The fight is not within, monk.” A voice growls from beside him.
Darklord.
Banzan’s eyes open slowly, the glow gone. He turns earnestly towards the Carthian.
“It has always been within,” is the reply. “Have you come to help me find Helvig?”
“I have come to fight.” Darklord snorts. “Corvus and Deathnote cannot handle our combined might. They will make a fine offering tonight.
The Mountain nods.
“Yet you show fear in not pursuing the Viking.” Banzan retorts.
Darklord steps up to the door leading into the Slaughterhouse arena.
“I fear nothing.”
“You lie.” Banzan says, blocking the door from opening. “You are alive, thus you fear something. That’s what drives us all, deep down. Fear. It’s what makes someone leave a trail of broken bodies and bloody tears behind them.”
Darklord pauses, making eye contact with Banzan.
“If I ever fear a thing, I conquer that thing. Fear has no hold over a man who has defeated it.”
“Fear cannot dominate you unless you have conquered it.” Banzan replies slowly. “True fear is the dull ache running up your spine, unyieldingly drilling itself into your mind. It’s a foe you can only face once it cannot longer be fought.”
The Carthian seems to take in Banzan’s words, showing no response other than a hint of curiosity.
“Is that what you fear, Banzan?” He begins. “That you made a decision that you can never take back?”
Banzan stay silent for a moment before answering.
“Once we have finished the fight tonight, I have something to show you. Then you will understand that we are not so different. It’s my offering to you.”
Banzan opens the door, and heads out towards the ring while Darklord nods his approval.
Cut.
BANZAN & DARKLORD VS. CORVUS & DEATHNOTE ©
Kings die, and deities’ names are lost to time, but Mountains stand forever… Right?
Creeping Death quickly isolates Banzan, targeting his tree trunk-like legs. Remove his vertical base, and you eliminate the kinshasa and Saito suplex, among others. CORVUS KICK to the quadriceps! He tags in Deathnote… KISS OF DEATH – diving double foot stomp to the kneecap! ONE… TWO… DARKLORD BREAKS IT UP!
The God King chomps at the bit, stomping the apron and leaning over the ropes, but he’s not the legal partner! The official restores order. Corvus and Deathnote take turns in wearing Banzan down. They attempt a two-man suplex on the superheavyweight… SANDBAGGED! Indestructible Mountain instead suplexes them both! HOT TAG TO DARKLORD!
He lobs Deathnote into the corner, then hurls Corvus into him. A 500-pound big splash pancakes ‘em both! The Black Hand staggers out—KNEEL, BITCH! The Sparta kick flattens him. The Author of Death follows in his footsteps… WARLORD‘S HAND – CHOKESLAM ONTO CORVUS! ONE… TWO… TH—SHOULDER UP! Darklord tags Banzan back in.
Determining Corvus’ legality, the referee orders Deathnote out. The monk waits… TIGER CLAW – FIVE POINT PALM STRIKE! The assassin falls to his knees. Banzan applies the shining triangle – SAMUDAYA! Darklord and Deathnote storm the ring; TURN THE PAGE – SISTER ABIGAIL BY THE REWIND CHAMPION! He flips Corvus into a pin on Banzan – ONE… TWO… THREE!
Creeping Death erode the Mountain, Banzan, and Darklord!
MORDECAI
There’s a nothingness.
A nothingness that is bright and open.
A nothingness void of almost all sound except a single person’s shallow breathing.
The camera pans left and right, then back to the middle. Still nothing.
Suddenly, a darkness pushes at the corners of this nothingness. There’s a struggle between the darkness and the light, and the breathing gets more intense.
The darkness seems to be winning for a short period of time and the nothingness starts to glitch.
A closeup of Luke Storm’s closed eyes flutters into view for a fleeting second. When they next glitch in the eyes are open and glowing blood red, before we glitch straight to a close up of the wide open eyes of Mordecai.
“Hello?” he shouts, tentatively into the nothingness. “Luke?”
Not even an echo acknowledges he is speaking.
The light begins to push the darkness back into the corners.
“This can only be bad news,” he mutters to himself, his breathing returning to normal.
“If I can’t find Storm here, that means he’s not dreaming.”
The darkness has receded completely now, leaving us once more in the open nothingness. Even Mordecai himself is no longer here, though his parting words ring out.
“I need to speak to him…”
Cut.
CXDY, SANCTUS BELLATOR, NIGEL ROYAL & THE IMPALER
“I feel he’d be lighter without all the bloody metal in him.”
Nigel Royal’s complaints introduce the scene as we once again lay eyes on the unlikely duo of The Bloodline and The Impaler. They still drag CXDY behind them, bringing him out to the parking lot of the Slaughterhouse.
“He’s only as heavy as you allow him to be.”
The Impaler smirks as he responds, the two coming to a rusted and beaten hearse sitting in the parking deck. The Impaler opens the back and reveals a coffin in wait! Royal lets go of CXDY, looking on at the set up.
“He’s not dead, you twit.”
Impaler simply chuckles.
“No, but he may wish he was once I’m done with him. I heard he… wishes to change for his family. And I wish to put that claim to the test.”
Royal clearly wants no knowledge of what Impaler plans to do as the coffin gets opened.
“I won’t ask. As long as he’s out of my hair I don’t care what you do with him.”
“I do.”
A third voice sounds out from the shadows! Impaler lets go of CXDY and turns to see the source of the voice!
SUPERKICK TO THE IMPALER!
IMPERTIO TO ROYAL! SPANISH FLY!
SANCTUS BELLATOR IS ON THE SCENE!
The kick sends Impaler toppling over into the coffin! He slams the lid down and shoves it back into the hearse as he reaches down to the wounded CXDY, lifting him onto a shoulder.
“Let’s go, now.”
CXDY, groggily, looks to Bellator as he limps beside him, just barely conscious.
He’s not going to question a savior in a time like this.
The two men flee the scene as Royal begins to stir,
Cut.
GABLE, GRIMWOLF & KNIGHTLORD VS. SEESAW, VIPER ROBERTS & SIGIL
Whoever scores the decision here will live rent-free in their InVasion opponents’ minds!
Gable wastes no time in spearing SeeSaw – GOLD RUSH! The Toybox King tags in Roberts, who swings at The Olympian—German suplex! Nine more for good measure – 10 KARAT! Viper slithers outside, replaced by Sigil; remember – trios rules. Cael tags Grimwolf. The Horror of the Deep KEELHAULS The Collector with the roaring elbow! ONE… TWO… FLIGHT OF THE ORNITHOPTER! SeeSaw makes the save.
Sigil shakes off the cobwebs. He scoops Israel into a backbreaker, followed by elbows – LONG ROAD AHEAD! He dumps him overboard. Knightlord swoops in with a ripcord clothesline-lariat combo dubbed the BLOODY STREAM! Sigil COSMIC LEAPS outside, and Viper subs for him. Removing his snakeskin belt, he TANS THE HIDE of Kaine, who tags in the gold-medalist!
Cael ducks The Head Snake’s stinging strap. Popping up behind him, he slaps on the REAR NAKED CHOKE – SILENCE IS GOLDEN! Will Viper yield!? SeeSaw runs in – SLAPSTICK CLAPTRAP! He brains Gable with his forearms, dropping him. Roberts rolls out, nominating SeeSaw. Mr. Make Believe stomps Cael’s lumbar, pulling his arms back – STRETCH ARMSTRONG! Will he submit!?
Grimwolf boards them… DEAD MAN’S CHEST HEART PUNCH! Wait – PLAAANESWALKER DROPKICK BY SIGIL! But Knightlord executes the NIGHT RAID KILLSWITCH! Don’t tread on me; SNAKE BITE WRAPAROUND NECKBREAKER by Viper! Gable is up – SUPLEX-CUTTER, AKA THE PUGHPLEX! “Playtime isn’t finished!” SeeSaw scoops Cael into an AIRPLANE SPIN… CUTTER! THAT’S THE BIG WHEEL! ONE… TWO… THREE!
SeeSaw, Viper Roberts & Sigil invade and conquer!
ALBERT SHAW, VOYNICH & THE SANDMAN
The OSW Championship. Slung proudly across the shoulder of our Champion, alongside the Double Feature belt. He wears about him the confident smirk that being a double Champion affords.
He walks the halls of the Slaughterhouse seemingly untouchable. That is until he comes face to face with a very pissed off looking Voynich.
The former champion eyeballs Shaw, holding up a pillow. The very same pillow that Shaw had used to try and snuff the life out of him.
“You son of a bitch.”
Voynich pushes the pillow into Alby’s chest.
“I think you lost this. You know what they say about trying to kill the king… You missed your shot, you should have made sure the job was done properly.”
Shaw slaps the pillow out of Voynich’s hand.
“Guys like me you can always trust to go where the gold is, looking out for number one. But those so-called trustworthy like you, when they get a taste of evil, it’s them that you can never really trust how far they’ll go.”
Shaw returns the stare to Voynich, sizing him up.
“You have shown that you have the nouse to kill a man. Hell, you unloaded the whole chamber into…”
BAM!
ENTER SANDMAN! SLEEP PARALYSIS TAKES VOYNICH OUT!
SHAW JUST STANDS THERE STUNNED!
Then, The Sandman turns his head slowly, menacingly to focus on the OSW Champion.
He grabs Albert Shaw by the throat and lifts him up off the ground, slamming him back first into the concrete wall.
Shaw’s eyes widen, making a gargling sound as he struggles in vain to breathe.
“Shhhh. When you Sleep tonight, I’ll see you in your dreams.”
With that, The Sandman relinquishes his hold on Albert’s throat and slinks into the darkness.
Cut.
SIMON & TWO-FACE
Backstage, Two-Face and Simon are sitting together. Two-Face begins to speak.
“So we’re number one contenders, why doesn’t it feel like that?”
Simon answers.
“We’re not their number one priority. Those belts are merely an accessory to them. They care more about the title of Bad Mother Fuckers than they do the gold that confirmed it.”
Two-Face replies.
“So you’re saying they’re ignoring us.”
Simon shakes his head and responds.
“No, ignoring takes effort. We’re not worth that to them. They’ve completely forgotten about us now that they’ve all gone Hollywood.”
Two-Face slowly nods in understanding. He speaks up with some confidence.
“Isn’t that a good thing? Reason would point out that once the prey forgets, the predator feasts.”
Simon shakes his head and answers.
“Nice metaphor but hoping the ones at the top of the mountain forget you isn’t a sign of a predator, it’s about as far away as you can get from one.”
Two-Face slouches, shrugs, and asks a question.
“Then what do you suggest?”
Simon replies.
“Glad you asked. Logic would point out that we lost last time and if we did what we did last time we’ll lose again. First rule of insanity and all that. So reason would state this is the one time to be unreasonable. Reason would state it’s time to make them remember us.”
Two-Face nods and speaks.
“How do we do it?”
Simon answers.
“Only half of you is a face of reason. The other is pure chaos. I want you to dig into that part of you and figure out the answer for us.”
Two-Face is hesitant but you can tell his gears are turning. Once he lands on something, he speaks.
“I have an idea but I can’t say it here, there are too many people around. Meet me in my old office a few days from now. Make sure it’s at night, I’ll let you in on how we get noticed then. You can rest assured it’s not reasonable.”
Simon smiles and replies.
“Good, reason can only exist within certain parameters, we are way past that. I can’t wait to see your plan next week. Let’s take care of our match now.”
Two-Face nods as they march their way to Gorilla position.
Cut.
SIMON, TWO-FACE & ALBERT SHAW © VS. bMf
Which of these teams is really bad to the bone!?
It looks like we’re starting off hot, as Pyre leads Bad Mother Fuckers against Two-Face.
“What happened to your face, hun?” The Fire Bitch taunts, feigning concern.
“Don’t worry, princess, it’s nothing to what We’re going to do to yours.” The burned politician retorts—
SLAP!
PYRE BITCH-SLAPS TWO-FACE!
THE GOOD HALF OF HIS FACE HAS A RED IMPRINT LEFT BEHIND!
50/50 tackles her to the ground. Throttling her, he bashes the back of her skull against the canvas over and over again!
bMf shower Two-Face with abuse from the apron, in a bid to distract him.
“Hey, Crispy-Dick, bring your Freddy Krueger ass over here!” Zero chides.
Two-Face growls—
MONKEY FLIP BY PYRE!
Throwing him overhead, she scrambles to her feet.
Driving her shoulder into his gut, she rams him into the corner. She kicks him in the ribs until he sinks down to the bottom turnbuckle. She stomps a mudhole in him, then walks it dry! Tossing her hair back, she spits on him!
In this COVID-age, Pyre spits on Two-Face!
With a smirk, she tags in Zero.
The hacker picks up where his stablemate left off, pulling Two-Face up by what hair is left on his scarred scalp. He whips him with authority—and a bionic limb—across the ring.
The ropes tremble as Two-Face slams sternum-first into the corner. Gasping for air, he turns round…
Zero tears into the ropes behind him—
FIIIIREWALL – BIONIC CLOTHESLINE TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!
GOOD GOD, HE COULD BE CONCUSSED!
Simon and Shaw lean over the ropes, their hands outstretched, but Two-Face is seeing stars.
Zero yanks him to his feet. He drags him over to bMf’s corner, tagging in Hollywood Luke Storm to a chorus of boos.
The Icon doesn’t even care to remove his shades or jacket. Knowing that Two-Face is dazed and confused, he employs a deliberate pace, striking with leisurely mixed martial-arts blows. He’s toying with him!
Having taxed himself enough, Mr. Box Office heads back onto the apron.
Pyre jumps over the ropes. She grabs Two-Face in a waistlock… NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! She bridges into a pin—
ONE!
…
TWO!!
…
…
SIMON BREAKS IT UP!
The Taskmaster eyes Storm and Zero—whom he beat to the punch—holding a finger to his temple.
“Saw it coming.” He states matter-of-factly, returning to his corner.
Forcing Two-Face up, Pyre preps him for a PILEDRIVER! She pauses to watch, however, as her teammate skulks around enemy territory—
ZERO DRAGS SIMON’S FEET!
The intellectual CLATTERS jaw-first onto the apron!
Shaw hops down, spoilin’ for a fight – but Zero has already high-tailed it away!
“He didn’t see that comin’!” He jokes to Luke.
Back in the ring…
TWO-FACE WITH A BACK BODY DROP TO PYRE, AVOIDING THE PILEDRIVER!
Storm cusses loudly. Zero groans in dismay.
Opposite them, Simon pokes his head up. Blood dribbling down his chin, from where his teeth punctured his lip, he taps his temple once more.
He was banking on bMf’s retaliation costing them, and aiding Two-Face. He called it!
The fans rally behind Two-Face, who crawls towards salvation…
BUT LUKE STORM DRAGS HIM BACK SEVERAL FEET!
COME ON, REF!
The crowd let bMf have it with both barrels.
Pyre, still nursing her back, staggers over to their corner and climbs out—
SWAPPING WITH ZERO!
The bionic competitor dashes over to Two-Face, pulling him up.
GOOZLE!
Two-Face chokes, as Zero’s robotic hand squeezes his windpipe. Here comes the chokeslam…
ABSOLUTE ZER—NO!
TWO-FACE KICKS HIM IN THE RIBS WITH HIS ITALIAN-LEATHER LOAFERS!
HE GRABS THE ARM, THEN SLINGS HIS LEG OVER ZERO’S NECK—
FLIP THE COIN, FLIP THE COIN – OVERDRIVE NECKBREAKER!
Big pop from the spectators, as Two-Face turns the tables!
In need of respite, he bails out—
AND THE NEWLY-CROWNED OSW CHAMPION FILLS IN FOR HIM!
The place is on fire as Albert Shaw steps into his ring, and everyone else’s prison!
“I’ve been looking forward to bangin’ you cunts out all night!” He says, cracking his fingers.
HE POUNCES ON ZERO!
ELBOW, ELBOW, ELBOW, EL—HOW MANY IS THAT NOW!?
SHAW MAKES MINCE-FUCKING-MEAT OF THE HACKER – SNITCHES GET STITCHES!
He deadlifts his dead weight, then throws him headfirst into the rest of Bad Mother Fuckers!
“You’ll do, sweet’art!” Shaw says—
HE PULLS PYRE INTO THE RING!
Shoving her into the corner, he mounts the second turnbuckle…
EAT SOME ELBOWS OF YOUR OWN, FIRE WITCH – THERE’S PLENTY TO GO ROUND!
SNITCHES GET MORE STITCHES!
Wait – Pyre manages to pie-face the official, who’s a little too close to the action!
LOW BLOW!
PYRE GETS THE NUT-SHOT ON SHAW!
The Champ leaps down awkwardly, limping away.
“Is that all you got, little man!?” Pyre laughs, flicking her hair to reveal a shiner in the making. “You must’ve been passed around like currency in the joint!”
An incensed Shaw charges at her—
HE CLOTHESLINES HER SO DAMN HARD THAT THEY BOTH SPILL OUT OF THE RING!
Hollywood Luke Storm realises that he’s the only Bad Mother Fucker still standing. Looking into the ring, he sees Simon standing with his arms wide open, as though inviting him in for tea. Heaving a sigh, the movie-star reluctantly climbs in – still wearing that tacky-looking jacket and shades—
DOUBLE-LEG TAKEDOWN BY SIMON!
CLUTCHING ONE LEG, HE TWIRLS ROUND—
HE’S GOING FOR THE FIGURE FOUR!
CHECK-FUCKING-NO!
LUKE TRASHES AND FLAILS DESPERATELY, KICKING HIM OFF!
Having shed his gaudy outer layers, Storm races to his feet.
LIGHTNING STRIKE!?
SIMON GRABS THE FOOT, BLOCKING OL’ RELIABLE!
GAMBIT, GAMBIT, GAMBIT – THE SPINNING BACKFIST CLOCKS STORM!
The A-lister staggers back, punchdrunk. Simon darts into the ropes—
CATALAN OPEN—DENIED!
LUKE EVADES THE KNEE TREMBLER!
HE LEAPS AT THE TASKMASTER…
CODEBREAKER – DOWNPOUR!
Simon snaps into the mat.
ONE!
…
NO, PLEASE NO!
…
TWO!!
…
DON’T LET THESE ASSHOLES WIN!
…
…
TWO-FACE MAKES THE SAVE!
He drags Luke to his feet—
JOKER DRIVER – LADY LUCK!
Simon rolls outside, thus making Two-Face the legal man.
ONE!
…
YES, THIS IS IT!
…
TWO!!
…
BEAT THESE MOTHER FUCKERS!
…
…
PYRE WITH THE HILO!
DAMMIT!
She breaks it up with the slingshot senton splash, as Storm rolls out.
Pulling Two-Face up, she doubles him over with a kick to the abdomen.
Running to the corner, she pulls herself up.
SHE JUMPS OFF, LOOKING FOR THE CORKSCREW STUNNER!
THE ECLIIIPSE—
HEADS OR FUCKING TAILS, YOU FRIGID ICE BITCH!
TWO-FACE CATCHES HER WITH THE SISTER ABIGAIL!
ONE!
…
SURELY THAT’S IT!?
…
TWO!!
…
COME ON THREE, COME ON!
…
…
ZERO!?
ZERO JUST BARELY MAKES IT IN TIME!
Pyre bails out, as the hacker heaves Two-Face up—
PUNK.
CITY.
KILLER!
THE STUNNER LAYS HIM OUT COLD!
ONE!
…
ENOUGH ALREADY!
…
TWO!!
…
HOW MUCH MORE!?
…
…
ALBIE BLOODY SHAW CUTS IT OFF!
The Champ is here, and Two-Face takes a powder.
The former jailbird manhandles Zero to his feet—
GOOZLE!
Uh-oh – ABSOLUTE ZERO!?
SHAW SHOVES HIM OFF, AVOIDING THE CHOKESLAM!
HE DUCKS UNDER A FIREWALL CLOTHESLINE—
GBH, GBH – GRIEVOUS BODILY HARM!
ONE!
…
WE’RE GONNA NEED A CIGARETTE AFTER THIS!
…
TWO!!
…
…
THUNDEEERRRR!!!
HOLLYWOOD LUKE STORM WITH A GODDAMN MOONSAULT OUTTA NOWHERE!
Zero heads to the floor…
… Leaving Albert Shaw and Luke Storm as the legal participants.
Cradling his neck from where Hollywood’s knees hit him, Shaw turns to look round. Seeing who it is, he smiles – showing his missing teeth.
“So, you think you’re a bad boy now, eh!?”
He pulls down his red braces and puts up his dukes.
“Come on, then – let’s be ‘avin ya!”
The fans pop for their fiery, fighting Champion!
Hollywood Luke Storm backs away. He doesn’t want any part of The Guv’nor!
The Slaughterhouse roof is about to come off, as we get a preview of the Wrestling Noir II main event!
Storm hesitantly pulls himself up. He looks at the crowd, who bay for his blood. Putting on the performance of his freakin’ life, he throws his arms up.
“You wanna see us go at it!?” The Blockbuster yells at the audience.
The arena shakes as they stamp their feet and clap their hands.
“You people wanna see a FIGHT!?” He demands.
We’re at a fever pitch here!
“Alright!” He obliges, to a roar!
HERE WE GO!
WE’RE DOING THIS!
“Maybe later.” Luke says, turning on his heel and exiting onto the apron – putting his shades back on.
WHAT THE FUCK!?
Wait a minute—
ALBERT SHAW DARTS ACROSS THE RING!
HE GRABS STORM AND BRINGS HIS ASS BACK IN THE HARD WAY!
THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE IS ELECTRIC!
Luke scrambles to his feet—
RIGHT HAND BY SHAW!
STORM RETALIATES WITH A LEFT!
LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT – IT’S A SLUGFEST!
Crack!
THERE GOES THE $5,000 SHADES!
Albert sees his opportunity reflected in their polarised lenses—
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 digits to the eyes of Storm – FIVE FINGER DISCOUNT!
Blinded, Luke feels his way into the ropes. He swings wildly at the air, hoping to land a knockout shot on Shaw, who bides his time…
HE BOOKS IT TOWARDS STORM—
GRIEVOUS.
BODILY.
NOPE!
DAMMIT – ZERO PULLS HIM TO SAFETY!
Saving Luke from the Claymore kick, the hacker tells Albert to turn around.
ECLIIIIPSE—
GRIEVOUS BODILY HARM!
FOR THE SECOND TIME, PYRE IS CUT DOWN!
ONE!
…
…
TWO!!
…
…
THREEE!!!
Albert Shaw shows that there ain’t nobody badder than him, Two-Face, and Simon!
THE DARKNESS
Static.
The Darkness stands in what was formerly The Butchers office, looking out over The Slaughterhouse when suddenly, everything before his eyes begins to change.
The ring ropes look worn and thinner, the turnbuckles seem to made of a different material – even the seats become old, as if from the nineteen fourties.
That isn’t the worst of it, though.
Because everything he see’s in now in Black & White.
Mostly everyone else would be horrified. In fact, you could be assured of it. There’re people running backstage, their entire outfits having changed before their now black and white eyes.
However, The Darkness – whilst you can’t see his mouth, he seems pleased.
Whoosh.
There’s a sound behind him, forcing him to spin.
“Brother Warped,” he warmly greets. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. I see your abilities are as powerful as always.”
We finally turn to see the man of which he’s speaking.
A bald-headed man with a larger head than quite rightly fits his body. He looks odd – warped, even.
“Sire wanted disruption, did he not?” He giggles in a soft, almost squeaky voice. “Then I will warp their realities as my will; Wrestling Noir will simply be the first of many intrusions of their reality.”
The Darkness walks forward and puts a hand on either of his shoulders.
“I cannot wait to see the weird and wonderful places you’ll take us, brother.”
The Warped smiles.
Cut.