Mayhem: July 20th, 2009 (2009)

Weekly Show | 120 Min
Rating:
5/10
5

Show Transcript

Monday Night Mayhem
July 20th, 2009 – #HOW66
The Best Arena, Chicago, IL

 

Opener..

Sabby…”

The voice cried. Sobs and whimpers can be heard in the background as the HOTv logo fades out and Mayhem opens up with footage that was previously recorded this past Friday, merely a day after the “accidental” death of Sabina Faze on Thursday Night Turmoil.

Mayhem General Manager Ryan Faze, Sabina’s older brother, is alone, kneeling in the middle of an empty ring wearing the same black trench coat and hospital gown that you saw him in post Turmoil. The arena is empty and dark, with the lights from the concessions barely peeking through the black curtains that separate the two areas. It’s cold and the silence is eerie. That is until Ryan, with his face buried in his palms, cannot hold back his tears any longer.

Faze: SABBY NOOO!!!

His cries echo throughout the arena as he longs for the sibling he’s cared for and watched over ever since he was 10 years old. Even Ryan’s fiercest of enemies would agree that Sabina Faze was his heart and soul; the one person in the world he was truly close to and the only person in the world he could trust and love unconditionally. When it came to Sabby, Ryan was overprotective. Perhaps a bit too much but Sabby would’ve said that was a good thing. Especially during the time when the HOW World Champion Graystone kidnapped her for ransom during the crucial stages of the bidding war between Lee Best and Maximillian Kael. That next night, Ryan demolished the champion with a lead pipe as all of finalists of the Best Invitational Tournament watched, taking a very serious mental note not to mess with Faze and his family. Sabina was Ryan’s true definition offamily.

And now she was gone, slain accidentally at the hands of Ryan’s best friend, Issac Slade. The irony in the matter, if there could ever be such a thing, was that Ryan was in the final stages of negotiations with Lee Best to permanently bring his buddy over to Mayhem. Little did Ryan know that when he sealed the deal with Lee, Sabina was already dead. Perhaps it was due to one… ahem… three too many beatdowns in days prior that Lee conveniently forgot to mention it? Or maybe he was eager to pounce on the trade after the fact because he knew this had ratings gold written all over it post Capitol Punishment? Of course, none of this was as important to Faze as the loss of his dear, sweet sister.

Faze: Why God? Why her?

Her beauty was deceiving, as Sabby was as tough as nails and often could defend herself without Ryan’s approval. Still, that wasn’t enough to intimidate Issac and the relationship between himself and Sabina blossomed into incredible new heights. No matter what the distance, in presence and in mind, Ryan quietly approved of their relationship, even letting Sabina move out from under his watchful eye and into a place of her own. He knew that Issac would look out for his sister while his workload and responsibilities increased as the General Manager of Mayhem. Perhaps he let go too soon.

While it will be easy to blame Issac for what happened and to blame Ace for pushing the #1 Contender over the edge, Ryan couldn’t help but carry a considerable amount of the blame on his own shoulders. He promised Sabby that he would always be there for her. For 15 years, since Sabby was 6 years old, he kept that promise. He kept it until recently… until the abuse of power and pain medications prioritized themselves ahead of what truly matters most. This was going to be something Ryan would have to live with for the rest of his life.

Faze: Why couldn’t you have taken me instead? Please! I’m right here! What are you waiting for?!? I’m the one that deserves to die!

Ryan stops himself to wipe away streams of tears from his cheeks, but to no avail, as the sadness and loss are too much to overcome at this particular moment.

Faze: God dammit Slade…

Ryan sobs frantically until the mere mention of his best friend’s name forces him to fight off the ill will that is festering inside of him. Suddenly, his face pales and becomes emotionless. Crawling towards the ropes so that he can pull his weakened body to his feet, Ryan snarls, a clear indication that revenge for what happened is beginning to overcome all thoughts and memories of Sabina. But before Ryan can do anything else, he decides to reach into his trench coat. From pocket to pocket, he scrambles around until the look on his face reads utter disbelief, as all he can pull out the coat are empty vials and pill bottles.

Faze: Fuck…

The sadness and ill will immediately disappear, being replaced by a constant buzz, a numbing feeling that extends from head to toe. After the numbness forces Ryan back to his knees, Faze extends the rest of his body face-first on the mat, lying motionless with a blank, wide-eyed expression that stares deeply into the center of the camera. He says nothing though, and only a single tear runs down his cheek as the scene fades out and the feed becomes LIVE on Monday Night Mayhem

 

Setting the night up..

The familiar duo of Joe Hoffman and Benny Newell are standing by in the announcer’s booth as the camera rapidly scans the unusually-somber crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Well Benny, this is where I’d normally welcome everyone to Monday Night Mayhem, but as you can tell by the crowd, I’m really at a loss for words after watching that heartbreaking footage of our General Manager, Ryan Faze. Clearly, it’s been a tough couple of weeks for Ryan and it’s only gotten worse this past week with the tragic loss of his beloved sister Sabina.

Benny Newell: First, the former members of AoA put him in the hospital for a week, THEN all hell breaks loose in his absence on Mayhem, THEN he disappears from the hospital, THEN…

Joe Hoffman: I’m sorry Buff, but what’s truly important here?

Benny Newell: The implications of Paras winning the Battle Royal?

Joe Hoffman:

Benny Newell: The fact that DeNucci re-appeared on Faze’s show?

Joe Hoffman:

Benny Newell: The ramifications that Reinhardt and Jason Wild will suffer for ruining Mayhem’s ratings lock?

Joe Hoffman: Please tell me you have some sense of compassion?

Benny Newell:

Joe Hoffman: Forgive my ignorant broadcast partner, ladies and gentlemen, as we welcome you to Monday Night Mayhem for the final time before Benny and I become exclusive to Thursday Night Turmoil.

Benny Newell: Guess I’m going to need a different excuse to get plowed on Monday nights, eh?

Joe Hoffman: Are you sure our contracts say we’re both exclusive to Turmoil? Because it wouldn’t bother me at all if Lee just so happened to leave you here on Mayhem.

Benny Newell: Don’t test me, Joe. We’re not even fucking five minutes into the show and you’re already making me want to chug this unopened bottle of Jack in its entirety.

Joe Hoffman: AHEM! As I was saying,… we’ve got a hell of a card lined up for you tonight that will see all your Mayhem superstars in action!

Benny Newell: That’s right Joe. And don’t miss out our Main Event that will feature the #1 Contender to the ICON title, Maximillian Kael against the #1 Contender to the LSD title, Christopher America in a Half Hour Iron Man match nonetheless! Nothing I’d like to see more than these 2 dickheads beat the piss out of each other before what could be the biggest matches of their careers at Capitol Punishment.

Joe Hoffman: It’s sure to be an explosive night… and what’s this? … I’m being told that Ryan Faze IS in the building tonight… and… by gosh… despite what’s happened recently, he’s prepared to fulfill his duties as General Manager!

Benny Newell: Good for him. No sense in sulking around like a little pussy…

Joe shoots Benny the look of death before Benny quickly turns away and pours himself the first of many double shots.

Joe Hoffman: ANYWAYS… we’ll be right back with Triple Threat action!

Benny Newell: You say something about a threesome?

Joe Hoffman: Don’t go awa…

 

Thrashaholic

Suddenly “Thrashaholic” hits the arena’s speakers and Trent steps out on stage. The crowd roar with a cheer as he raises a fist in the air. The half his face is still bandaged due to his injured right eye. Noticeably stiff and sore he walks down to the ring with a slight limp. He walks up the ring steps and over the top rope. He asks the ring announcer for a microphone and looks around at the cheering crowd for a moment before raises the microphone to his mouth.

Trent: I ‘spect ya all’ve fuckin’ heard ’bout my week long stay in bloody hospital. Last week I wrestled fer the best part of a fuckin’ hour in that fuckin’ Battle Royal, took some brutal shots, not least a light tube to the fuckin’ face, and got mugged by the fuckin’ World Champion after it was all done. Ya could say I got fuckin’ stoved. Docs told me if I keep this up then my body’s eventually just gonna fuckin’ call it a night ‘n’ keel over. Docs also told me if I don’t take time off ‘n’ let my fuckin’ eye heal I could fuckin’ lose it all together. So that fuckin’ left me with a choice…

His voice wavers and he lowers the mic, pacing anxiously for a moment before continuing.

Trent: A very, very fuckin’ hard choice. Carry on wrestlin’, carry on performin’ at the highest fuckin’ level fer all ya motherfuckers ‘n’ grind my fuckin’ body to dust in the process; take a couple of months off, heal myself up ‘n’ come back on a fuckin’ reduced schedule at the lower reaches of fuckin’ competition; or just straight out fuckin’ retire ‘n’ step away from the whole fuckin’ business ‘n’ focus on my own fuckin’ future. It’s a motherfucker of a decision, I tell fuckin’ ya. After talkin’ to the doc, to Ryan Faze, to my missus and all my fuckin’ mates, there’s not really much of a fuckin’ choice, is there?

He swallows deeply, emotion welling up inside of him.

Trent: I know David Black was well fuckin’ hyped fer facin’ me later tonight, such a fuckin’ shame to deprive ya lot of a class fuckin’ match up like that. Such a fuckin’ disappointment to have to walk the fuck outta here before settlin’ things with Eisen… Wrestlin’ in HOW, wrestlin’ for ya fuckin’ lotta crazy-arse bastards, it’s been the best fuckin’ runna my whole career ‘n’ it’s gonna be fuckin’ hard to walk away from it. But…

He pauses again, picking his words.

Trent: But…

He shakes his head, momentarilly filling the arena with silence. The fans around him start chanting “Thank you Trent!” repeatedly, as wrestling fans tend to for retiring wrestlers. This brings a wry smile to his face.

Trent: Fuck, if anyone should be sayin’ thank you, it’s me. Thank all ya lot fer all yer fuckin’ support, no matter what fuckin’ happens in this business it’s you guys, the fuckin’ fans who keep it alive ‘n’ keep the wrestlers doin’ what ya fuckin’ love them to do. No matter what fuckin’ tragedy happens in a wrestlers lives yer always givin’ yer fuckin’ support. Thank you. It’s ‘cos of all ya guys that I decided to do what I fuckin’ am. Before I go any further… to David Black, a future fuckin’ World Champ in the makin’ ‘n’ a rising fuckin’ star in the fuckin’ business, sorry I had to ruin yer fuckin’ night…

His smile widens to a grin.

Trent: But get yer fuckin’ gear on, yer still got a motherfuckin’ match!

The crowd erupts into a deafening roar.

Trent: ‘Cos, one-eyed of not, like fuck am I gonna fuckin’ retire the night I’m set to take on the fuckin’ LSD Champ and like fuck am I gonna fuckin’ quit on the show before I get to shut Eisen’s fuckin’ mouth once ‘n’ fer fuckin’ all! I’m stayin’, I’m fuckin’ wrestlin’ ‘n’ I don’t give a flyin’ fuck if it kills me!

Trent is fired up by the fans’ enthusiasm which in turn makes them pop even louder.

Trent: David Black, that schizophrenic bastard, he’s got a fuckin’ target painted on his fuckin’ forehead ‘n’ one eye’s all I fuckin’ need to hit it. Don’t think of it as a fuckin’ disadvantage fer, think of it as yer only hope of standin’ a fuckin’ chance against me! Ya were worried ’bout gettin’ fuckin’ injured before Capitol Punishment before, but ya got no fuckin’ idea. As the sayin’ goes, an eye fer an eye, motherfucker!

“Thrashaholic” hits the speakers again, but Trent does not look impressed.

Trent: Cut the fuckin’ music, I ain’t done!

And the music stops.

Trent: Eisen! Eisen, I don’t expect ya to get yer chickenshit fuckin’ arse out here, but I bet ya will after ya hear what I got to fuckin’ say! ‘Cos, Eisen, I know ya signed up fer a match ‘gainst me at Capitol Punishment, I know ya got Faze to book it in yer fuckin’ favour. I know ya got somethin’ fuckin’ devious up yer sleeve, some stip to stack things up against me, but I got talkin’ to Faze last night ‘n’ I couldn’t help but get thinkin’… I figured a corrupt bastard like who’ll set shit up fer ya like that ain’t picky about his fuckin’ corruption. It’s amazin’ what seven ‘n’ a half fuckin’ grand’ll buy ya.

Trent pulls a folded piece of paper out from his pocket and casually unfolds it.

Trent: A fuckin’ cage match. Yer gonna be fuckin’ locked in there with me, but it ain’t just a pussy-arse average fuckin’ match with a fuckin’ cage around it, nah. Ya like runnin’ away so fuckin’ much, yer gonna have to fuckin’ escape to win, but don’t think it’ll be that fuckin’ easy. No matter what I fuckin’ do to ya, Eisen, the match only ends when I fuckin’ walk away!

The crowd cheer in anticipation of Eisen getting what he deserves only to be cut off by “Destroy And Dominate.” Eisen strolls down the ramp, microphone in one hand and a smirk plastered across his face. As Eisen steps through the ropes, Trent goes to lunge at him.

Eisen: Nono, Trent, I really don’t think that’s such a great idea. Did you read, you know, the contract I signed properly? The small print and everything? I mean, if you had, I think you’d find that you can’t touch me until Capitol Punishment…

Trent scowls and starts checking the previously unfolded piece of paper.

Eisen: Now that we’ve sorted that out, Trent, do you really think that it’s a great idea to step into a cage with me? Whatever you wanna say about giving me what I deserve, what I should get from you…did it ever occur to you to think for a second and realise that, great as the idea of immediate revenge for yourself might be, that stepping in a cage with one eye against me really isn’t the greatest idea?

Eisen: I mean, fuck, dude. I knew before I even arrived at the arena tonight that you were stupid, but honestly, I didn’t think that you were THIS stupid. I mean, I was going to pick something that you had a chance at winning, I was thinking of tying one of my arms behind my back because, well, you’re not half the wrestler I am, so maybe a one armed me might be about appropriate. But if you want a cage match, that’s fine by me. I mean, I’ve only made my career in various forms of the classic steel cage, after all.

The big man laughs in the face of Eisen’s boasts.

Trent: Yeah, yeah, yeah, big bad Trip fuckin’ Eisen, master of the fuckin’ cage match, heard it fuckin’ all before, mate. Don’t think it fuckin’ slipped my mind, dude, I know just what a fuckin’ history ya have with cages, but it didn’t help ya win at fuckin’ War Games now, did it? Ya talk yerself up to be so fuckin’ great but yer just livin’ off past fuckin’ glories, Eisen. Ya ain’t anythin’ but a fuckin’ shrivled up fuckin’ husk of yer former self, runnin’ around, hidin’ behind fuckin’ Faze ‘n’ some bullshit fuckin’ clause of a contract, doin’ all ya fuckin’ can to get outta facin’ me. I’m down to one eye ‘n’ yer still actin’ like a bloody shit eatin’ pussy. One eye, Trip, is all I fuckin’ need to beat yer arse and believe me, motherfucker, I will beat you at yer own fuckin’ game. I’ll do it injured, with one fuckin’ eye and show the World that you ain’t worth shit anymore!

Eisen shakes his head and chuckles, before turning to address Trent further.

Eisen: Sure, you’re right, Trent….it didn’t do much for me at War Games. I didn’t win. I didn’t seal my name into history and become the only three time SSE World Champion. I lost. You won. But that, that was what a month ago? Maybe even longer…I mean, if we’re talking about things we’ve all heard before, then we know you won at War Games so could you please enlighten us further as to exactly a one eyed man plans to win a wrestling match. You’re not even doing this match for the right reasons, yet you’re happy enough to put your career into my hands. You talk of walking away…well, Trent, let me promise you this, right here, tonight, inside the Best Arena, surrounded by this disgusting filth…you’re not going to walk away. I’m not going into this looking to get the big win, I’m not shooting for glory, I’m looking for revenge on a man who can’t even begin to think about paying back his debts. I’m going to do every dirty trick I know, every little nasty thing I possibly can to ensure you get stretchered out. And if it ends your career, if you never wrestle another match…all the better. Of course, now comes the point where you yammer on insufferably with your fucks, shits, and wanks, so, to be completely honest, I can’t be fucked with it. I really can’t.

Trent: So fuckin’ typical of ya, Eisen, yer all but fuckin’ admittin’ ya ain’t half the god damn wrestler I am, ya have to resort to fuckin’ tricks ‘n’ cheats to even have the fuckin’ confidence to face me. Fuckin’ pathetic. The eye don’t fuckin’ matter, I’ll beat yer the same fuckin’ way ya fuckin’ trained me to. I’ll wrestle ya to the fuckin’ ground ‘n’ no matter what fuckin’ tricks or cheats ya bring, ya ain’-ARGH!

Eisen stamps on Trent’s foot and pokes him very forcefully in his injured eye. Trent collapses with a scream.

Eisen: Does that hurt? This will hurt more and I’m bring it to Capitol Punishment.

Eisen pulls a fork out of his trunks, brandishing it to the arena’s audience. Laughing, he drops out of the ring, and makes his way to the back as Mayhem cuts to its first commercial break.

Can Mayhem stop the 2 week Turmoil winning streak?

 

Jason Midnight vs. Jason Wild vs. Silver Phoenix
Triple Threat Match

Back live in the arena with a close up of HOW’s esteemed Ring Announcer and the crowd stirring in anticipation.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen, the opening contest is scheduled for one fall and is a Triple Threat match! Introducing first, from Los Angeles , California , weighing 210 pounds… SILVER PHOENIX !!!

Joe Hoffman: A mixed reaction for the high flyer here, Benny. I’ll tell you what though, Phoenix has one of the most visibly appeasing finisher maneuvers in the game with his “All or Nothing” corkscrew attack from the top rope.

Benny Newell: Who are you talking about, Joe?

Joe Hoffman: Silver Pho-

Benny Newell: Yeah, nevermind. I thought for a second there you might’ve been referencing someone of actual relevance. Like Shane Reynolds and his “Diablo’s Inferno.”

Joe Hoffman: Well, there’s no mistaking the ICON champion and his finishing technique, that’s for sure. But a win here for the Phoenix would certainly elevate his status in HOW after a tough couple of losses in recent weeks.

Benny Newell: ::YAWN::

Silver Phoenix slides into the ring under the bottom rope and hops on the middle turnbuckle to ham it up for the fans until the music of Jason Wild hits.

Bryan McVay: Introducing next, from Los Angeles , California , weighing 247 pounds… JASON WILD!!!

The fans are sure to give Wild a “proper” welcome for his role in the ratings loss last week and shower boos upon him as he emerges from backstage.

He barely makes it half-way to the ring when his music cuts out and smoke fills the entrance ramp to the tune of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.” Much to everyone’s surprise, HOW newcomer Jason Midnight emerges from the back with his dented steel chair in hand and two masculine looking females at his sides that resemble drag queens.

Bryan McVay: And finally, from Reno , Nevada , weighing 343 pounds… JASON MIDNIGHT!!!

Joe Hoffman: It’s… Jason Midnight? Forgive me folks for acting a bit surprised, but I was not expecting this behemoth of a man… well, you know, “Dancing Queen”?!?

Benny Newell: Ha ha! Clearly he’s taking a poke at his opponents. Just look at the names on their shirts, Joe!

Benny points toward the drag queens as they walk together, arm-in-arm, down the entrance ramp. The tall brunette runs “her” fingers through the strands of her wig as she wears a shirt reading “Jasmine Wild” and the plumper-looking blonde kicks “her” hips to the side as she struts, wearing a tank top that reads “Silvia Phoenix.” All the while, Jason Midnight towers behind them, chuckling as he favors the steel chair that reads “Veni, Vidi, Vici”, written in his own blood.

As expected, Jason Wild fails to find the humor in the charade and urges Midnight to get into the ring, which he does after climbing the ring steps. But before Midnight can completely step over the top rope, Wild is already on the attack, looking to gain the early advantage on his towering opponent.

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

A flurry of left and right hands appears to stun Midnight momentarily until he grabs the back of Wild’s head and drives it into his own, shooting his opponent down to the mat with tremendous impact.

Joe Hoffman: Huge head butt from Midnight, who after helping Max Kael take out Lee Best and Aceldama on Turmoil is making his in-ring debut here tonight!

Benny Newell: Yeah, and it looks like Silver Phoenix wants no part of him whatsoever.

With Wild down, Jason Midnight stalks Silver Phoenix, who is cowering backwards into the corner of the ring. As his back meets the turnbuckle, a look of fear comes across Phoenix ’s face until Wild kneels in place behind Midnight and Phoenix takes the cue. In one single leap, Silver Phoenix jumps up to the top rope and executes a beautiful Springboard Drop Kick, which sends Midnight crashing to the mat thanks to the assistance of Jason Wild.

Joe Hoffman: That just goes to show you that even enemies can work together, and given Midnight’s size advantage, it’s definitely the right call.

With Midnight down, Wild immediately rushes over to make the quick pin and Referee Joel Hortega drops to count.

UN-

Broken up by Silver Phoenix! Wild stands up with a look of disbelief and shoves Silver Phoenix in the shoulder, but now Phoenix is the one to drop and cover Jason Midnight.

UNO…

Broken up by Jason Wild! Phoenix pops to his feet and gets in the face of Wild and the two begin arguing. Phoenix turns to cover Midnight again, but this time, Wild drops him with a Reverse DDT! He sees Midnight sitting up now, still shaking off the cob webs from the drop kick and decides now is the most opportune time, with the big man grounded, for him to lock on his finisher.

Wild approaches Midnight from behind and signals to the crowd for his “Wild Thing” triangle choke finisher, but before anything, Midnight reaches up and grabs him by the throat! The crowd cheers as Jason Midnight rises to his feet, still with Wild in his grasp. Suddenly, Silver Phoenix charges at Midnight, but he too finds himself in the big man’s grasp.

Benny Newell: This should be good…

Within seconds, Midnight hoists both of his opponents high into the air and drops them to the mat with a thunderous Double Chokeslam!

BOOM!

Midnight exerts a hearty chuckle as his drag queens, “Jasmine Wild” and “Silvia Phoenix” both tease Jason Wild and Silver Phoenix respectively. He sizes up the damage with satisfaction and grabs Phoenix by his hair, lifting him to his feet and into a Fireman’s Carry.

Joe Hoffman: FINAL TOLL!

Jason Midnight drops Phoenix with his modified TKO finisher and hooks the leg.

UNO…

DOS…

Jason Wild lunges at Midnight to break up the pin…

TRES!!!

But it’s too late as Joel Hortega’s hand slaps the mat for a third time before he can interrupt.

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner in 3:52JASON MIDNIGHT!!!

Jason Wild exits the ring in disgust and Midnight kicks Silver Phoenix out of the ring as well while his drag queens join him and hand him his steel chair. Jason favors the steel chair tightly and grips it close to him, pointing to the “Veni, Vidi, Vici” slogan that is written in his own blood.

Joe Hoffman: Impressive debut from Jason Midnight, picking up a solid win over Jason Wild and Silv… Hey! What the hell?!?

Suddenly, Midnight blasts “Jasmine Wild” over the head with the aforementioned chair! “Silvia Phoenix” looks on in horror and Midnight quickly gives her the same fate as well. The crowd is not sure how to respond as both drag queens lay motionless in the middle of the ring, while Jason Midnight raises his chair into the air with a sadistic grin.

Benny Newell: Clean up on Aisle 4! We’ve some drag queens that need to be mopped up…

Joe Hoffman: I’m horrified! Those were innocent…

Benny Newell: Oh, shutup Joe. Who gives a fuck anyway?

Midnight begins the slow walk to the back as medics attend to the ring and the scene quickly cuts backstage to the office of General Manager Ryan Faze!

 

Faze Time

His office is well-lit and inviting. The papers on his desk are neatly organized and his appearance is flawless thanks to a brand new pin-striped suit and a much needed shower and shave. But you can tell he’s not the same. Reclining comfortably with his feet on his desk and his hands behind his head, Faze quietly stares at the ceiling in what appears to be a state of reflection. The loss of his sister Sabina has clearly taken its toll, as Faze doesn’t even so much as blink an eye when someone from behind the camera signals to him that it’s rolling. It even takes an unknown crew member to walk into the scene and nudge Faze, who quickly sits straight up in his chair, adjusts his tie, and shuffles through the nearest stack of papers on his desk as if he was busy working the whole time.

Faze: Ah, yes. Let’s just get right down to business, as I’m a very busy man and have lots of work to get done before Capitol Punishment. First things first, it’s no secret that the past 2 weeks have been possibly the worst of my entire life, both personally and professionally. You wouldn’t think so thanks to the abundance of flowers and care packages that you see here in the background…

The camera pans out to reveal the rest of Faze’s office, which is filled to capacity with beautiful floral arrangements and packages equipped with letters offering condolences.

Faze: …but all of that means nothing to me. In fact, every one of you that sent one of these bullshit floral arrangements can go straight to hell. They’re just taking up space in my office and I could do without the odor. Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you people… Sabina is dead. Nothing is going to change that and quite frankly, your sympathies are a sick reminder of the depressing reality I’ve been living ever since Turmoil. So forgive me if I appear a bit sarcastic when I say this… but thanks-a-fucking-lot!

Faze: Now down to business… after last week’s Mayhem, it’s become clear to me that I can’t leave the show for one week without all hell breaking loose. I asked Lee for one simple favor; that absolutely no former member of the Argonauts of Awesome were to win the Battle Royal. Except Lee was too busy getting his ass kicked all night to stop Triple P from winning the damn thing and announcing himself as my 2nd keeper post Capitol Punishment! Well let me tell you something Paul, you might be on my show AFTER the pay-per-view, but you sure as hell aren’t going anywhere NEAR a ring during it. You see, Marcus Reinhardt was brave enough to come to me and answer your little open challenge last week, but I say fuck you both! Especially you Marcus for fucking up my ratings last week and causing us to lose to Turmoil. So how about this? Neither of you make the pay-per-view, as I am officially VETOING your open challenge.

Faze grabs the contract that Reinhardt signed accepting Triple P’s challenge off his desk and rips it in half in front of the camera, letting the pieces fall to the floor.

Faze: Next order of business revolves around a dear old friend of mine. Yes, I’m talking about you… Michael DeNucci. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but if you EVER show your face on my show again, I’ll make damn sure that next time, I kill you. How dare you end my wrestling career and parade around my show like nothing ever happened.

Faze: And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you Christopher America. Congratulations. You did the unthinkable and beat Shane Reynolds 2 weeks ago. I never thought you had it in you, to be completely honest, but you did it, nonetheless. Well since Shane couldn’t get the job done and Capitol Punishment is right around the corner, looks like I have to be the one to make sure you don’t get anywhere near that LSD title. That’s right Chris, I will be in David Black’s corner when he defends his LSD title against you. And guess what? Should you… check that, WHEN you lose that match… you will never again compete for the LSD title here in HOW. Hmmmmmmm… yep. I think that about covers it. Now if you’ll excuse me… I have a funeral to start planning for.

A seemingly accomplished Ryan Faze kicks his feet back up on his desk and reclines backwards in his chair, shooing off the cameras with a dismissive gesture that leads us directly into commercial break.

 


Draft this Thursday at 8pm CST!!!

 

Trip Eisen vs. Marcus Reinhardt
Singles Match

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back folks… and wow… as you just saw, now is NOT the time to be crossing General Manager Faze in any way, shape, or form. As much as I feel for the guy, I’m kind of glad we’re about to be exclusive to Turmoil.

Benny Newell: One thing you have to admire though, is despite all of Ryan’s misfortunes, he refuses to let his show go spinning out of control. I think he’s made it clear that he’s the man in charge, as he just did to Triple P, Marcus Reinhardt, and Christopher America.

Joe Hoffman: Well speaking of Marcus Reinhardt, he’ll attempt to redeem himself from his dismal performance in the Battle Royal with a big win here tonight against Trip Eisen.

Benny Newell: And more is riding on this match for Trip than you might think, as you especially don’t want to go into the pay-per-view without momentum against an ogre like Trent . Injuries or no injuries, that guy scares the shit out of me.

Cue “Destroy and Dominate” by Chimaira and Trip Eisen explodes from backstage to a loud ovation of boos from the fans in attendance.

Joe Hoffman: Well we all know the fans are behind the SSE World Champ in that match and he may very well damn near kill Eisen once he gets his hands on him at Capitol Punishment.

Bryan McVay: This next match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Cardiff , Wales , weighing 258 pounds… TRIP EISEN!!!

Eisen confidently enters the ring and arrogantly fakes like he’s going to hit Bryan McVay until his music fades out and “Fuckin’ in the Bushes” by Oasis replaces it.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Greensboro , North Carolina , weighing 247 pounds… MARCUS REINHARDT!!!

The self-proclaimed “Doberman” walks out to a nice ovation and slaps some hands along ringside before he hops on the apron and bends his way through the ropes and into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Well despite this nice reaction from the crowd, Reinhardt can’t be too thrilled with Faze’s earlier announcement that his hopes of being on the pay-per-view have been squashed. It’s a shame too, because I would’ve loved to see a Triple P vs. Reinhardt confrontation at Capitol Punishment.

Benny Newell: ::YAWN:: Just make sure you wake my friend Jack and I when this match is over. Marcus runs off the ropes to meet Trip in the center of the ring, only to be stopped by a thumb to his right eye.

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

Joe Hoffman: Oh, come on, that was a blatant cheap shot!

Benny Newell: Bet it’s a message to Trent too.

Joe Hoffman: Wow, are you actually paying attention these days?

Benny Newell: I have to do something while I wait for a refill.

A quick throw and leg drop across the chest gives Eisen the early advantage. Trip drops a few stiff knees to Marcus’ forehead. Trip wraps Reinhardt’s leg around the ropes but breaks the hold on 4. Marcus ducks a lariat as he gets up and flies off the ropes to hit a clothesline of his own!

The crowd cheer. Marcus hits a belly to belly Suplex and goes for a pin but Boetcher only counts 1 before Eisen kicks out. They scramble to their feet, Marcus whips Trip off the ropes and hits a huge spine buster on the rebound!

Joe Hoffman: What a Spinebuster! Eisen must be hurting now!

Reinhardt picks Trip up and whips him into the corner. Reinhardt alternates between punches and chops. Eisen rolls out the ring and starts arguing with the ref. Reinhardt impatiently walks up to ropes and Trip jumps onto the apron and snaps Marcus neck across the top rope.Eisen rolls in the ring and rolls Reinhardt up with a first full of tights for a 2 count! The crowd boo Eisen profusely.

Eisen gets in to Matt Boetcher’s face, demanding a he count faster. Reinhardt runs at Eisen from behind but Eisen ducks out the way. Reinhardt barely stops himself from colliding with the ref. Eisen capitalises with a half nelson Suplex. Eisen cradles Marcus’ head on the ground and unleashes torrents of fists. Matt Boetcher starts a five count. Eisen gets up at 3 and shouts at the ref before going right back to it.

Joe Hoffman: Do something about him, Boetcher should be stopping him!

Benny Newell: Don’t stop it, it’s entertaining!

Marcus shoves him off. They run at each other and clothesline each other! The ref starts a ten count. Both men, almost equal in size and stature, get to their feet at the same time andEisen snaps off a Suplex. Reinhardt grits his teeth in pain from the landing and rolls through, hits the ropes and takes Eisen down with a low dropkick.

Reinhardt follows up with a Crossface attempt which Trip counters into a Crossface of his own! Reinhardt struggles to reach the ropes. Eisen breaks the hold on 4 and immediately stomps away at Marcus until he’s told to back off by Boetcher. Reinhardt pulls himself up on the ropes. Eisen pushes the ref out the way and rushes Marcus, but Marcus hits scouts it and hits a Drop Toe Hold.

Reinhardt gives Eisen no time to recover and picks him straight up into a Wheelbarrow Powerbomb! He holds for the pin. One…! Two…! Thr-KICKOUT! Reinhardt looks frustrated. He picks Eisen up hits a swift DDT and pins again for another two count! He goes to pick Eisen up but gets caught in a flash Inside Cradle Rollup!

Another near fall! Eisen gets up and runs straight into a Flapjack from Reinhardt. He picks Eisen up and hooks him into an Inverted Facelock, looking for the Rabid Redemption but Eisen spins out of it and shoves Marcus into Matt Boetcher.

Joe Hoffman: What’s Eisen up to now?

Benny Newell: I don’t know, but I bet it will be fun!

Eisen bails out the ring, grabs a steel chair and throws it into the ring. Boetcher pulls himself together, sees the chair and takes it out the ring. While he is distracted, Eisen rolls in the ring and kicks Reinhardt hard in the crotch, immediately hooking him up for a Wrist Clutch Exploder to hit the Eisenplex ’09! Eisen shouts for the ref and rolls Reinhardt up. Boetcher turns and drops to count but does not see Eisen’s feet on the second rope!

Benny Newell: EISENPLEX! EISENPLEX! AWESOME!

One!

Two!

Joe Hoffman: His feet are on the ropes! This is robbery!

Three!

The bell rings and Eisen rolls out the ring as “Destroy And Dominate” hits the speakers again. Reinhardt sits up on the mat and looks completely shocked!

Brian McVay: Here is your winner in 8:56… TRRRRRRIIIIIIIPPPPP EEEEIIIIIIIIIISENNNNN!

Joe Hoffman: Eisen cheats more in one match than the whole of the rest of HOW in two shows!

Benny Newell: Yeah, but he won, just like he’s going to do against Mr. Cyclops.

Joe Hoffman: Mr. Cyclops?

Benny Newell: Trent ! Geez, pay attention!

 

So it begins?

We cut backstage, where a camera is following recently acquired Backstage Interviewer Brian Bare to the office of General Manager Ryan Faze. Bare rushes the door and barges in, slamming the door behind him in excitement.

Brian Bare: You’re never going to believe this, dude! I got my hands on some of the…

Aware of Ryan’s current state, Brian quickly stops himself.

Brian Bare: Right… sorry man. How you holding up?

Faze shifts his eyes up from his paperwork and pauses what he’s doing, as he can tell that Brian’s concern is genuine.

Faze: Getting by… I just can’t stop replaying the footage in my mind, you know, of Slade with the chair…

Brian Bare: What are you going to do? Is there anything I can help with?

Faze: Listen, I appreciate the concern but I’m very busy at the moment so why don’t you excuse yourse-

Brian Bare: Trust me Ryan, I’ve got an offer that you simply can’t refuse.

Brian presents the General Manager with a single sheet of paper that Faze quickly skims and then scoffs at.

Faze: I’m not signing this. No way in hell. Not without knowing who…

Brian is quick to cut Faze off though, and pulls something from his pocket that cannot immediately be seen by cameras.

Brian Bare: Here, try this. I got this shit from a friend of mine. Dude’s got us the hookup of a lifetime!

Faze appears hesitant at first to accept what Bare has presented to him, but his current pain and suffering is enough to convince him otherwise.

Faze: What is it?

Faze sniffs the substance before quickly ordering the cameraman out of the room. While the cameraman obliges, he positions himself near the door he left cracked open so that the audio can still be picked up.

Brian Bare: I have no idea… but I’m so fucking buzzed right now it’s insane. I swear to god I think I saw Michael Jackson in the hallway on the way to your office.

Faze: I don’t know man. I don’t think this is such a good id-

Brian Bare: Trust me. The source is solid and trustworthy.

Faze: Damn! Tastes strangely familiar but the stuff’s incredible nonetheless.

Brian Bare: Best part is, we can get our hands on a huge supply of it for FREE as long as you sign that agreement.

Faze: Consider it done… just as long as your friend knows a lick or two about wrestling. Can’t have someone refereeing a match of that magnitude without a little experience, you know? Here… have him deliver the “stuff” to my office…

Brian Bare: But don’t you want to know wh-

Faze: Bare… I really don’t have the time. What matters now is that you get out of my office so I can finalize the contracts for my new staff.

Brian Bare: Ok then. I’ll tell him to stop by your office later on tonight.

Sensing that Bare is about to leave Faze’s office, the cameraman rushes off, prompting the scene to switch to Joe and Benny at ringside.

Benny Newell: What did Faze just sign? Reffing a match? Huh?!?

Joe Hoffman: I’m not sure Buff, but in my opinion, this road of substance abuse that our General Manager is traveling is very discouraging and unfortunate. Ah-em… sound familiar to anyone? Benny?

Benny Newell: ::takes another shot of Jack Daniels:: What?

Joe Hoffman: Nevermind. We’ll be right back, folks.

 


WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
HELL IN A CELL INFERNO
Issac Slade vs. Aceldama©

ICON CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
HOUR LONG IRON MAN FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE
Maximillian Kael vs. Shane Reynolds©

LSD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Christopher America vs. David Black©

HOUSE OF PAIN MATCH
Mark O’Neal vs. Darkwing vs. Chris Kostoff
BOBBINETTE CAREY AS SPECIAL REFEREE MATCH

Kirsta Lewis vs. Scottywood

FINAL ENCOUNTER
Trip Eisen vs. Trent©

THE MATCH ONLY A MOTHER COULD LOVE
Bob Jared vs. Embosser

ICONIC Signing

We return from break to see that the ring has been surrounded by both a roofed cage and security personal however within the cage itself, a steel mesh divider as been placed to ensure the two parties involved in tonight’s contract signing will not be allowed to get at each other. In each section we find Max Kael and Shane Reynolds, having already come down to the ring separately, each with a small desk and separate contract placed on it. The fans begin to chant “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” as both men stare at each other from their separate cages.

Max Kael: Well here we are Shane! Finally after months we have ourselves a private little fight, us and you, one on one. No pesky ring ropes. No irritating secondary fighters. No stooges. No partners just us and you. Shano-ah-Maxo. But are you sure you want to do this? After all.. post homicidal depression can be.. really tough on someone like you..

Through the bandages a grin could be see as Max held up his part of the contract, waving it in a some what mocking manner toward Shane. In the background the crowd murmuered quietly. Shane inches closer, only a step, but enough to stare at Max even more intently.

Shane Reynolds: You said it yourself. Just me and you, finally, one on one. You missed out something, though. No running. No crowds to hide behind. No escape. An hour that, for you at least, will be pure hell. Am I sure I want to do this? I’ve waited A YEAR to do this. But can the same be said for you? Are you really ready to sign up to the end of your career?

Laughing, Max pulled a pen out of his pen, shaking his bandaged head at Shane before letting out a sigh.

Max Kael: End my career? Now there’s an idea but Shane.. why would you do that to us? What have we done to you? All we have ever done is tried to help you fit in.. help you feel better about yourself or at least try to stop lying to yourself. Those people, the ones we.. had certain business with. They didn’t love you. They didn’t know you, in fact the only way anyone could have known you had any relation with them is by looking at an old family picture that was kept in a dusty old corner of an apartment.

Clicking the pen open, Max tapped the end against his teeth which clicked as his eyes kept locked on Shane’s.

Max Kael: We’re not the bad guys. We saved you and we punished the ones who tried to make you something you’re not. Punished those who did not love you enough.

Pacing back and forth, chancing the odd glance now and then back towards Max, Shane suddenly takes his turn to start laughing; a forced and unnatural sound, piercing the ears of everyone in the vicinity, before it stops as abruptly as it started.

Shane Reynolds: You really think you are some kind of saviour; that you have helped me? Granted, those that were once known as family had no love for me. Elizabeth….Thomas…Michelle. They had no respect. They had no knowledge of me; not the true me. They all deserved what they received. And you may have been catalyst that lead me onto the path of my ascension…but you don’t know me. You may have your own deluded mind convinced otherwise, that you understand me, but I’m here to tell you that you have no idea. Not by a long shot. But, on the other hand, I know you, Max–

Shane, who had been pacing whilst laughing, now moves swiftly over to the desk and pulls up a file from beneath the contract. Holding it up for Max to see, Shane holds the files he obtained during the week.

Shane Reynolds: —I’ve seen the real you. I’ve seen the things you’ve done. I’ve seen your crimes. You are nobody’s saviour. You are nothing but a lowlife. A piece of scum. You are pathetic. So yes, at Capitol Punishment, I am going to end your career. You say you wanted me to embrace my true self, well congratulations, I have…and that side of me is going to take great pleasure in making you regret ever helping to unleash it.

Max snorted and signed the contract with a quick scribble of his hand. Clicking the pen closed he handed the contract off into a small slot opening in the cage allowing it to slide over to Shane to sign.

Max Kael: A piece of scum? You cut us to the bone, Shane. Rebellion against you’re father still are you? Face it Shane, as much as you do not want too admit it we are more then just that. If we were just some piece of scum, some easily discarded nobody then you wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to get us. You wouldn’t have hurt all those people. You wouldn’t be wasting your time on us.. all on Us. We’re special Shane, you and us. You don’t want to admit it but we are.

Slipping back toward the far end of the cage away from Shane, Max leaned up against the metal, crossing his arms as he stared at Shane.

Max Kael: We’re more then just men, Shane. We’re monsters but we’re not like your little friend, Aceldama . He was made into a monster through years of controlled abuse. He’s like a Frankenstein, something society created. Us? We and you? We were born better and society tried to make us like them. Make us think like them, weak like them. We’re free Shane.. we enlightened you, Shane, but it was too much for you to handle so now.. here we go into Capitol Punishment and we are aware just.. how much you want to get at us.

As Max steps away, Shane steps forward, stopping within an inch of the mesh that separates him from the man who he will soon, finally, get to face one-on-one. His eyes staring intently back at him but busily instead envisioning all that he plans to do to him when Capitol Punishment arrives. His hands reaching up and wrapping his fingers around the mesh of the divide.

Shane Reynolds: You are right. We are both monsters, born into a black-hearted destiny. But, aside from that label, we are nothing alike. I have seen my nature and I have come to embrace it. Whereas you—

Shane pauses, stepping back to again pick up the file on the desk, carefully flipping through it as a private detective would through notes and details on a case.

Shane Reynolds: —you keep it hidden behind a façade of eccentric lunacy. Now and then it reveals itself, but only to disappear behind the image of a man who desperately seeks to approval of the society you also proclaim to be weak. You despise them and yet you want to be their clown, their joker. You’ve driven around in your tanks and your golf-carts. You’ve created your phone helplines and you’ve performed duets with Sektor. You’ve want to entertain them. And, although you may well have done just that, to me you are merely disappointing. As I said earlier, you are pathetic, Max. To that much you have enlightened me. But I am tired of facing and defeating that false perception. I want to return the favour you so kindly bestowed upon me. At Capitol Punishment, to hope to face not that man, but the monster within. I hope to unleash and face your true self, the self the doctors forced you to hide and what you were also born to be; what some people, and this file, refers to as The Minister.

Shane smirks at the thought, the violence he is contemplating raises at least ten-fold.

Shane Reynolds: Everything I have done, I have done not for rebellion, but for my own pure enjoyment. Everyone I have targeted is because you, Max, have tainted their existence with your presence and you were too weak to put them out of their misery. At Capitol Punishment, I want to get at you, because although my former family deserved everything they got, it was not by your hand they should have suffered and been punished. This is not about such petty things as vengeance. At Capitol Punishment, I want to get at you as much as I do in order to punish you in their place, to punish you for the fact you robbed me the chance to punish them properly. Because this federation, this world, isn’t big enough for both of our individual monsters. At Capitol Punishment, I am coming to fully achieve my ascension.

Cold as Ice, Shane glared at Max with a calm, steady almost passive expression. Though he was obviously a predator Shane currently looked the role of a shark, without hurry, without need to attack or rist personal injury. His whole posture seemed to speak of his own capacity to have Max in his own time in whatever brutal finish he desired, particularly given the fact that at Capitol Punishment there would be no stop to their match.. not for a whole hour. Max seemed to inch back, his head lowering like an weaker predator being stared down by a larger, more aggressive one. Some might say it was the result of cowardice.

Shane Reynolds: Do you fear me, Max? Is that why you run, why you insist on these cages?

Shakes the divide separating them once, rattling it nosily back and forth.

Shane Reynolds: You refer to Aceldama as Frankenstein’s monster, but are you all too similar to Dr. Frankenstein, or even Dr. Jeykll. Do you fear me as these files say you feared your true self for so long, do you cower from that which you have helped to unleash, upon yourself and the world? Do you? I hope so, because I want you to experience fear…and regret for what you’ve done and stolen from me….in all its glory.

Max seemed stumped as just stared at Shane in his some what frozen, submissive posture, his bandaged head tilted down as if he were looking at the mat. Shane snorted and shook his head in disgust and disappointment, moving back too the desk where his portion of the contract sat, scribbling his name away quickly before tossing it onto the ground. With both contracts signed the crowd became to cheer loudly at the prospect of these two men tearing each other to pieces.

Max Kael:..Mmmhmhmhmheh.. Heheh..

From Max’s side of the cage the low, gutteral sound of Max’s harsh laugh seemed to pick up as his body started to shake. Pulling his fingers up toward his face, Max slowly started to pull the brown stained bandages away.

Max Kael: Have us figured out have you Shane? Have the world in the eye of your apple? Think you’re going to walk into Capitol Punishment and destroy us, make us pay for all the things you have perceived we have done to you? Going to make us hurt, make us beg, finish us off? Going to prove you’re better then us? Going to make a stand, make a point? heh-heh oh Shane.. you don’t know the first thing about us.. Jekyll you say? Doctor Frankenstein you say? Amatuers we assure you. .. see for once in a long time.. Mr. Slade and us have something in come.. heh-heh.. Do you miss your sister Shane?

Shane visibly twitches when Max mentions his sister, particularly in the tone that Max conferred. Somewhere between delight and greed, it was hard to know for sure what Max was dreaming up in his head with such dangerous comments as his were. Still he continued to unravel the bandages from his head as he spoke, Shane not moving as he stared at Max from his part of the cage.

Max Kael: As we explained earlier, Shane, we’re spiritually family, whether you want to admit that to yourself or not. But we have to admit to a mistake in our earlier assessment that you are our son. No.. we’re more like brothers, we challenge each other to do better. A healthy family rivalry.. but its true.. you never got to punish your sister and the rest of your family for all they had done to do, not in the way that you should have at least. We did take that away from you.. but we’re not without any morality nor any kindness..

As the bandages fall away Shane Reynolds’s upper lip seems to curl as his face becomes washed in disgust, unsure what he is looking at as the crowd lets out a low hush as what was hidden beneath Max’s bandages becomes revealed for the first time. Pale, stretched, sickly looking skin..

Shane Reynolds:..n.. no..

Max Kael: ..Something old, something new, something used and something blue..

As the last bandages fall away the pale, blue in tint facial skin of Shane’s Sister Elizabeth Creedy-Reynolds, has been pulled over Max’s own face. It’s not clear if it is the real thing or some kind of bizarre recreation however stapled near the top of Max’s hair line are long strands of Shane’s own black hair that Max had managed to scrape up from all over the Best Arena over the last few weeks. Shane’s face slowly turns from disgust to recognition and finally over into fury as he launches himself toward the bars of the cage while Max practically glows with his own sense of pride and accomplishment, his fingers running over the smooth pale skin with a degree of gentility not often seen with Max.

Max Kael: Come on!.. it’s.. it’s not like she was using it! Eeeeehehehe!

The psychotic Max Kael can barely contain his own sense of glee and personal entertainment at the terrible pun he had just made while Shane slams himself into the cage attempting to tear through the bars however try as he might the metal keeps him well at bay. The once submissive posture of Max switches into a man bursting with pride while Shane himself has degenerated into some kind of savage monster aching with every fiber of his being to get at Max.

Shane Reynolds: I’M GOING TO TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB! I’M YOUR ANGEL OF DEATH, MAX! YOU’RE DEAD! DEAD AND YOU JUST DON’T KNOW IT YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!….YOUR TIMES ALMOST UP YOU SICK PIECE OF TRASH!

Max immediately demands to have his cage door opened as Shane starts to push the divide open slowly, the make shift metal ties on the divide giving away. The crowd begins to roar loudly as Shane manages to tear down part of the wall, forcing his body through the opening as Max Kael’s lock is finally unlocked and his door is opened, Max hopping frantically out of the ring before slamming the metal cage door shut right as Shane manages to tear himself through the hole he forced in the wall. Locked off from Max once again Shane can merely take his frustration on the desk set up in that part of the cage as Max slinks off into the bag carressing his faux face.

As the crowd continues to cheer we head to commercial.

 

Call me now for tips on new facial techniques

 

Trent vs. David Black
Singles Match

Gama Bomb’s “Thrashaholic” blasts through the Best Arena soundsystem, and the oversized stoner, Trent, appears atop the ramp, smoking a joint. He makes his way down to the ring amid cheers from the fans.

Bryan McVay: Introducing first, hailing from Hereford , England , TRENT !

“Survive” by Lacuna Coil hits the arena and David Black walks out onto the stage from the backstage area. He looks around at the crowd, before walking down the ramp and sliding into the ring. Inside the ring, he paces back and forth, waiting for the match to start.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, now residing in Los Angeles , California , he is the current HOW LSD Champion….DAVID BLACK!

Referee Hortega gestures for the bell to be rung, as the two men square off in the centre of the ring.

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

Trent immediately swings a big right hand, but the smaller Black ducks under with ease, popping up with a dropkick which staggers the bigger man! Black seems slightly astounded that it didn’t knock the big man over, so he leaps up with another dropkick, smacking him back into the ropes. Black grabs ahold of Trent, managing to muster up the strength to throw the large man across into the ropes on the other side of the ring, and as Trent bounces back off the ropes, Black leaps up with another dropkick, finally driving Trent back first to the canvas!

Joe Hoffman: Black trying to get early momentum under himself here.

Benny Newell: You know, dropkicks, they look kinda weird, don’t they?

Joe Hoffman: Benny, we see dropkicks every week. Why’re you imparting this knowledge upon us now?

Benny Newell: I’m not totally sure…

Trent, however, pulls himself up off the canvas pretty quickly. Black dives in with a flying forearm and connects flush with Trent ‘s jaw, but the big man weathers the shot, firing back with a right hand that knocks Black straight back to the canvas! Black picks himself up, to be met with a boot to the gut, doubling him over. Trent quickly locks his arms around Black’s waist, lofting him up onto his shoulders, ready for a powerbomb, but he takes just a second too long, as Black jabs him in his eye, before whipping him down to the canvas! Black takes a moment to get his breath, and as we look at the big man, he’s clutching his eye on the mat.

Joe Hoffman: I think Black just got Trent ‘s bad eye, there.

Indeed, he quite probably did, judging by the fact that Trent ‘s still clutching at his eye on the canvas. Black attempts to drag him up, but instead gets met with some heavy right hands to the stomach, pushing him away from Trent . Trent clambers back up to his feet, and throws an overhand right at Black, connecting with his face. Black flies backwards into the turnbuckle, and the bigger man takes a short runup and smashes his oversized boot straight into Black’s face! Black slumps down the turnbuckle, and Trent wraps both hands around his throat, picking him up and throwing him straight overhead! Trent hops over and goes for the pinfall on Black

UNO~!

DOS~!

Oooh, Black shoots his shoulder up not long after Hortega slammed the mat for the two count! Trent lets Black get up, though this quickly proves to be a mistake as Black shoots his boot up between Trent ‘s nuts, staggering him backwards! Black shoots forward, driving his head into the armpit of Trent , before, with a large amount of effort, throwing the big man up and over with a Northern Lights suplex! Black bridges through for the pin!

UNO~!

DO..

Trent literally throws Black off him, and as he gets back up to his feet, Black screams in with a quick dropkick to Trent ‘s knee, dropping him. Black takes the time to fire off a few carefully aimed right hands at Trent ‘s head, stunning the big man, before driving his knee into Trent ‘s face with a shining wizard!

Joe Hoffman: I’m having a hard time keeping up with this fast paced action here in this match, Benny!

Benny Newell: Joe, you gotta have a drink and just enjoy. Two men smashing holy fuck outta each other…gotta love it!

Black goes for another pinfall attempt, sticking his legs on the rope this time, but referee Hortega doesn’t even begin to count, spotting Black’s blatant bit of underhandedness! Black gets up and starts remonstrating with the referee, not noticing that the larger man now has his wits about him! Trent grabs ahold of Black, hoisting him up on his shoulders, racking him with the Toke Hold! Black screams in agony, frantically trying to escape the hold by legal means, before deciding that, fuck it, he might as well jab Trent in the eye and get it over with. So he does, and the big man immediately crumples down to one knee, again, clutching at that injured eye.

Joe Hoffman: Trent’s injured eye is starting to take a big part in this match.

Indeed it is, as Black leaps up to the top rope and then straight off again, driving Trent down with a cross body block! Black takes a second to catch his breath back, shooting a quick look back at Trent, before climbing the top rope again and leaping off with a beautiful, picture perfect moonsault! Though instead of meeting ribcage, Black meets the knees of Trent ! Quickly rolling away and clutching at his ribs, Black gasps for breath, trying to get some into his lungs, but Trent seems to dislike the idea, driving his boot into Black’s already injured ribs, knocking yet more breath out! Sensing he has the advantage, in one, swift, clean movement, Trent hoists Black to his feet, and then aloft his shoulders racking the man a few times, as he wanders to the centre of the ring! Trent then drives Black’s head straight into the canvas with a devastating Toke Driver, quickly covering!

UNO~!

DOS~!

TRES~!!!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner in 7:15… TRENT !!!

Joel Hortega raises Trent ’s arm in victory as he immediately pulls away to favor his injured eye.

Joe Hoffman: Huge victory by Trent over the LSD Champion… injured eye and all!

 

Perfect Addition?

We head backstage once more as GM Faze is restlessly fidgeting about in his chair, watching the Mayhem broadcast on his desk monitor.

Ryan Faze: Come on Black…I’m counting on you to decimate America before I ship his ass off to Turmoil… don’t you dare fuck this up.

A loud knock comes at the door as Faze holds his head from the noise. The door opens slowly as Brian Bare peeks his nose into the room.

Brian Bare: Okay to enter, dude?

Ryan Faze: Depends…you got the stuff from your buddy?

Brian Bare: You bet I do! He’s got enough for a year here!

Ryan Faze: Then get it in here! My head could use a fucking vacation ASAP…

Brian swings the door open and steps into the office as the entire front door is immersed by a large stack of wooden cartons filled with small, opaque white bottles of the substance Bare gave to Faze earlier. The pallet jack holding the cartons begins to slowly wheel into the office as Faze’s dreary expression lights up like it’s Christmas morning.

Ryan Faze: Now this…this is excellent. Brian, your friend has great taste. Here’s that contract.

Faze shoves the signed contract from earlier toward Bare, who picks it up and excitedly hands it to the man pushing the pallet jack. Faze holds out a hand as Brian takes one of the bottles out of the top carton and hands it to Faze, who quickly unscrews the cap and takes a long sip of its contents. The GM’s eyes roll back into his head in glee before returning to gaze toward his company.

Ryan Faze: Amazing, man… but how rude of me. Allow me to thank the man who will be the Special Guest Referee for the LSD Title Match at Capital Punishment. I hope you know what you’re getting into, buddy.

Faze goes to take another drink from the bottle as Brian’s friend walks into his view and grabs the contract from Bare. The GM’s dilated eyes widen into a stare of terror as a small drop of the substance drips out onto the side of his chin… leaving a trail of blue liquid behind it.

Paul Paras: I think I have a perfectly good idea. Nice doing business with you, el capitan. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a worldwide audience to captivate.

The fans in the arena explode into cheers as Perfect Paul Paras folds up the contract and puts it in his dress shirt pocket, smirking egomaniacally toward the flustered Mayhem general manager. Faze angrily tries to lunge forward in his chair and grab at Paras, but is in a considerable daze from his drink and simply falls face-first onto his desk. He picks himself back up as the Perfect One has already left the office. Faze glares a hole in Brian Bare, who shrugs sheepishly and grabs a dose of the blue liquid himself as we cut back to ringside.

Joe Hoffman: Did I just hear that correctly? Earlier tonight, Ryan Faze banned Triple P from competing at Capital Punishment, but the Perfect One just bought his way into being the special guest referee for the LSD Title match!

Benny Newell: That prick Paul Paras tricked our general manager with cheap drugs! What kind of an impartial ref can he be when one of his best friends is in the match?! I demand a recount!

Joe Hoffman: No recounts here, Benny, but that’s a great point. Faze has been trying to screw Christopher America out of his title hopes for weeks and now Triple P has thrown a monkey wrench into his plans!

Benny Newell: God… get Bare to hook me up with some of that blue shit…I need some stronger stuff to get me through this show.

Will Triple P repeat as top wrestler in HOW this week?

 

Perfect Paul Paras vs. Shane Reynolds
Singles Match

The lights in the best arena dim as Shane Reynolds makes his way out to the ring with a mix of boos and cheers. Generally speaking, however, he does not do well to receive much positive heat from the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Well ladies and gentlemen as we draw toward the end of the show we thank you for watching the last broadcast of Mayhem with commentary with me and Benny Newell. Thank you for the memories.

Benny Newell: Fuckin’s shut your mouth would you Joe, we have Shane Reynolds the ICON Champion coming out. You can save your self satisfying congratulations too us after he has walked when Triple P tries to walk too the ring without crying for Triple M to hold his hand! After what Max hit him with earlier tonight I don’ want to know what kind of mood he is going to be in..

Joe Hoffman: That’s a good point Benny, but at the same time I think we can not discount the presence of Triple P in this match as he did win the Battle Royal last week.

Benny Newell: What the fuck ever Joe, what the fuck ever. It’s not like Triple P ever wins anything important as it is. So he won a stupid Battle Royal.. So what. People win Battle Royals every day in every country.

Joe Hoffman: Yeah but how often do they win Battle Royals in HOW?

Joe and Benny continue to make sarcastic remarks to each other as Shane slides into the ring and awaits the arrival of Triple P, the winner of last weeks battle royal. Triple P slowly emerges from the back as the fans come together and cheer his arrival. Triple P, for his part, is egotistical and driven by his own self importance. Just the same the fans adore him and feed him with their excitement as he makes his way down to the ring to face Shane.

As Triple P pulls himself into the ring he is quickly met with a stiff knee to the side of the head which knocks him from the ropes too the ground as Boettcher begins to admonish Shane Reynolds. The fans join in and boo Shane as he merely keep his eyes on Triple P who is on his back on the outside holding his head. Matt Boettcher threatens Shane with a disqualification if he leaves the ring however his words seem to fall on deaf ears as Shane drops and slides out of the ring to continue his attack on Triple P.

Pulling Triple P up, Shane levels him with a stiff head butt which drops Triple P back down too the ground with a thud as the fans boo louder and louder. Matt Boettcher, who has little to no control over the enraged Shane Reynolds, continues to do all he can to try and verbally talk Shane out of his attack on Triple P. Still in his own world, Shane drags Triple P up to his feet and slings him into the near by ring pole where he hits with a thud, clutching his shoulder as he falls to the ground. Shane begins stalking Triple P once again as Benny mentions how dominate Shane is right now and how dominate he is going to be at Capitol Punishment when he makes Max eat his own feet.

Shane sends the boots to Triple P as the fans at ring side taught Shane for being unable to wrestle Triple P out of fear. He ignores them for the most part as Joe describes this less like a match and more like a street mugging. Shane moves around Triple P, who is slowly crawling away, and picks up a steel chair, folding it closed before turning to measure Triple P. As the Perfect One slowly rises from the ground nursing his shoulder, Shane swings for the fences looking to try and knock Triple P’s head clean off!

CRACK!

Triple P has enough sense to drop back down as Shane misses and the chair collides with the metal ring pole sending shrives up and down Shane’s arms as he drops the chair. Joe refers to Triple P’s ability to use his surroundings to save him in the worst case situations. As Shane curses loudly and looks at his hands, Triple P quickly takes the chance to sneak into the ring as Matt Boettcher steps in to ensure Shane does not continue his attack without the bell ringing.

Thwarted for now, Shane slides back into the ring trying to shake the ringing sensation from his hands as Boettcher finally signals for the bell and the official start of the match!

Hearing the bell sound off and knowing he has to keep up his advantage Shane quickly jumps forward, shoving Boettcher to the side as he pounds on Triple P who is still attempting to catch his breath. Having forced him down into the corner Shane drops too his knees and hammers him with stiff left hands while holding Triple P’s hair with his left hand. Boettcher scrambles back up too his feet and grabs Shane’s arm, physically trying to pull him off Triple P while continuing to threaten to disqualify him if he does not comply.

Shane seems not to care as he fights to free his arm before hammering on Triple P’s head once again causing Boettcher to begin a DQ Count..

1..

2..

3…

4…

Shane finally breaks his attack on Triple P, releasing his head as Shane stands back up with his hands in the air. Boettcher begins to admonish Shane once again only to watch helplessly as Shane drops down once again hammering on Triple P’s head causing Boettcher to fall back to the only real weapon he has in his arsenal at the moment, a DQ.

1..

2…

3….

4…..

Again, the ICON champion breaks the close fisted punches as the fans boo loudly and start a Triple P chant. Again, Shane seems otherwise oblivious to the world around him as he gets back up to his feet, shaking the tingling sensation out of his hands. Triple P, on the other hand, has a small red line of blood starting to snake down his face from where Shane’s solid, close fisted punches caught him on the temple. Like blood in the water too a shark, the sight of it further encourages Shane to press his advantage and once again he jumps forward with the aim to punish Triple P’s face.

LOW BLOW!

As Shane attempts to jump on Triple P again he is caught with a stiff knee to the groin which is masked by Shane’s own body mass. Irregardless of how tough or massive or skilled or crazy you are, a solid low blow slows you down and Triple P certainly is able to take the wind out of the ICON Champions sails with it. Slumping too the side holding his crotch, Shane rolls in the ring for a few moments while Joe and Benny argue whether or not Triple P is in the right for cheating in order to save himself from being cheated against. For his part, Triple P seems to finally have a moment to catch is breath, pulling himself up with the ropes as he dabs his fingers on his fore head to test to see how much blood is coming out.

Checking on both men Boettcher uses his judgment that both men are able to continue as Triple P gets up too his feet first while Shane continues to nurse his midsection. Finally able to put an offensive together Triple P works Shane on the mat with a series of well placed kicks and elbow drops before dragging him up too his feet. With a throw back to old school wrestling, Triple P engages in a little catch and catch can wrestling hitting a series of quick lightning fast arm drags and arm locks before whipping Shane into the ropes. As Shane returns Triple P rolls down under him..

Rolling Boston Crab!

Triple P torques back on Shane’s legs as the ICON Champion finds himself in an increasingly dangerous position in the center of the ring. The Crowd goes crazy as Triple P appears to have locked in the Boston Crab as fast a hiccup and thus seemingly taken Shane off his earlier brutal game. Boettcher moves into position in front of Shane to get the submission should the ICON champion desire to throw the towel in. Shane howls and curses but does not give-up, grabbing at the mat as he slowly drags himself and Triple P near the ropes..

As Shane draws closer to the ropes the fans cheer for Triple P louder and louder. Chants of “QUIT! QUIT! QUIT!” fill the arena while Triple P seems to arch further and further back in the hopes of taking the back of his opponent out. Still, Shane shows incredible endurance and knows with all to reach the ropes as Boettcher quickly moves to have Triple P break the hold. The Perfect One acknowledges as the fans boo, releasing Shane as he moves back away. Shane rolls too the outside and holds his back tenderly trying to walk out the stretch hold. As the fans jeer at him Shane finds himself distracted by a 1-800-MAX-KAEL shirt.. Suddenly..

MODIFIED MINNESOTA SLICE!

While distracted Shane failed to notice Triple P taking a high risk, all or nothing attack as he leaps over the top rope and catches Shane by the head driving him backward into the ground in jumping reverse DDT. The crowd goes nuts as both men are on the floor, Triple P withering under the pains of the fall while Shane appears to not be moving. Slowly, Triple P gets back up and rolls the lifeless Shane into the ring where he drops down for a cover..

1…

2…

KICKOUT!

The ICON Champion shows his worth and manages to force his leg up as Triple P is once again left with no choice but to press on. With the encouragement of the fans Triple P picks Shane up and throws him into the ropes before he runs into the opposite end of the ring..

BLUE ANGEL!

The high impact front jump kick takes Shane completely off his feet and drops him like a ton of brinks. Triple P crawls back over Shane and hooks the leg!

1…

2..

3!!!

NO!

Shane manages to get his shoulder up at the last possible moment and Triple P’s efforts are once again brought to an end. Exhausted but not defeated, Shane rolls over onto his chest and begins to crawl toward the ropes working almost completely on instinct.

Triple P, also showing signs of tiring, slowly pulls himself up and signals for the Messianic Complex! Stalking Shane he waits for the ICON champion to get up too his feet and then..

MESSIANIC COMPL-

ZERO GRAVITY!

Shane hits the zero gravity off the turnbuckle as Triple P had been attempting to wrestle him into the Messianic Complex! Triple P is completely taken off guard as Shane rolls him over and hooks the leg for the pin fall..

1…

2…

KICKOUT!

Some how Triple P manages to throw his shoulder up leaving the ICON champion with little more then frustration and heart break while the fans get on their feet and once again begin a series of loud cheers directed at the Perfect One. Benny makes a comment about the arena having been drinking too much cool-aid recently while Joe comments on how much heart and dedication each man has. Shane glares down at Triple P before snorting down at him.

Turning and running into the turnbuckle, Shane glides up too the top..

DIABLO’S INFERNO!

NO!

Triple P rolls out of the way as Shane Crashes and Burns! Triple P drops down as Shane is momentarily stunned…

MESSIANIC COMPLEX!

Triple P locks in the Messianic Complex in the middle of the ring and Shane has no where to escape to! The fans jump to their feet and roar with cheers as Shane flails his free arm wildly but is unable to break the leverage or torque put onto his neck as Triple P locks the neck tighter. Shane slowly starts to roll up too his feet, fighting with the powerful Triple P in the process! Shane manages to get his hand snaked around, grabbing Triple P by the hair as both men are back up onto their feet, Triple P’s leverage disappearing in the process…

BOOM!

Triple P yanks Shane back down to the ground and refuses to yield the hold as the fans let out another massive cheer! With no choice Shane begins to tap out as the fans in the best arena explode!

WINNER: TRIPLE P IN 14 MINUTES AND 22 SECONDS!

Mayhem cuts to a commercial as replays of Shane tapping out are shown over and over again on the HOV.

 


WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
HELL IN A CELL INFERNO
Issac Slade vs. Aceldama©

ICON CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
HOUR LONG IRON MAN FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE
Maximillian Kael vs. Shane Reynolds©

LSD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Christopher America vs. David Black©
SPECIAL REFEREE PERFECT PAUL PARAS

HOUSE OF PAIN MATCH
Mark O’Neal vs. Darkwing vs. Chris Kostoff
BOBBINETTE CAREY AS SPECIAL REFEREE MATCH

Kirsta Lewis vs. Scottywood

FINAL ENCOUNTER
Trip Eisen vs. Trent©

THE MATCH ONLY A MOTHER COULD LOVE
Bob Jared vs. Embosser

Black’s Last Laugh?

Somewhere outside the Best Arena, the camera zooms in on an American flag that is blowing in the wind. The camera slowly zooms out, revealing David Black standing in front of the flag, with the LSD Title over his shoulder, and facing the camera.

David Black: Christopher America… tonight marks the final night, where you can wrestle a match as the number one contender to my LSD Championship. Tonight marks the final night, where you get to stand in that ring, believing that you will actually have a chance in hell of walking out of Capitol Punishment as the new LSD Champion. Tonight is the final night of Mayhem, where you get to live the dream, because at Capitol Punishment…all of your dreams, all of your hopes for the future…your desire to become the LSD Champion…all of that will be brutally, viciously, and ruthlessly taken away from you!

You see Chris, defeating Kostoff to become the number one contender…when you look back at that months or years from now, you are gonna realize just how big of a mistake that was! In fact, I think you will come to find that it was the single biggest mistake of your career, hell of your entire life! You see Chris, there’s a saying that goes something like…you gotta when to say when. You gotta know when enough is enough, you gotta know when to accept that what you have done, is all you’re ever gonna do, and you gotta know when to make your peace with that. But you couldn’t do that, could you Chris?

David laughs.

David Black: No! Of course not! After your little appearence in the War Games match, and after you managed to NOT be the first one to get eliminated, you let it go to your head…you got greedy! And in your greed, you decided to come after MY title. But you see, like I have said before, this isn’t just a title to me…

He puts his hand on the LSD Title belt that is hanging across his shoulder.

David Black: No…this is my life! It’s all I have, and for you to think that you have the right to just take it from me, or for you to think that I would just allow you to take it from me…your greed has blinded you Chris! Blinded you to the truth! And the truth is, that the ONLY way you are taking this title, my life, from me…is by doing just that! The only way you’re getting your hands on my title…is if you kill me first! And honestly, I don’t think you’ve got the balls for that job!

David pauses, as he looks over his shoulder at the flag behind him.

David Black: Now look at this flag…the American flag. Something that means so much to so many people, but tonight…this flag is gonna serve a different purpose, in fact, this flag is gonna foretell the future. You see, it is only fitting that this flag, this… “piece of Americana” that Christopher America loves so much, it’s only right that it is that which will foretell the future of Christopher America.

David circles around the flag a few times before returning his attention to the camera.

David Black: So take a long, hard look at this flag Chris, that you love so much…

David reaches into his pockets and pulls out a cigarette lighter.

David Black: Because tonight, this flag represents you Chris…it represents your future.

David flicks the lighter.

David Black: Because this flag tonight, shares the same fate as your career will at Capitol Punishment.

David holds the lighter close to the edge of the flag, lighting it on fire!

David Black: It will go up.. in.. flames!!!

As David walks off, the camera gets one last shot of the American flag burning before cutting back to ringside.

 

Max Kael vs. Christopher America
Singles Match

The Singularity” by Doctor Steel erupts over the loudspeakers and Max Kael, fresh with bandages still wrapped around his face, begins the long trek to the ring.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen, your MAIN EVENT of the evening is an Iron Man match with a 30 minute time limit! Introducing first, from Arkham, Massachussets, weighing 226 pounds… MAX KAEL!!!

Joe Hoffman: I still can’t believe what we just witnessed Benny. Is that even legal in the United States? Can’t Black go to prison for doing such an act?

Benny Newell: Either he should, or he’s simply trying to get into the mind of Christopher America before his big match tonight.

Kael enters the ring and lifts an eyebrow at Referee Joel Hortega as if they have some sort of hidden agenda planned. Hortega simply shrugs, as confused as many are by the former co-owner of HOW. Max’s theme gets proper due until Fort Minor’s “Remember the Name” starts up and the fans rise to their feet with their biggest ovation of the night.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from America, weighing 235 pounds… CHRISTOPHER AMERICA!!!

The crowd roars as Christopher America emerges, wearing sparkling new red, white, and blue ring garb. He’s quick down the entrance ramp with an angry expression on his face after just witnessing David Black start fire to the American flag. He climbs into the ring, exerts a deep breath and then gives Max a confident look of focus before Hortega calls for the bell.

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

A countdown timer displays in the corner of the HOV that reads “30:00… 29:59… 29:58” until America initiates a lock up with Max. Max is quick to rake the eyes and drops to his knees, executing a stiff low blow that has America clenching his privates in agony.

Joe Hoffman: What a cheap way… wait a second! Max with a roll up… and the tights!

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

MAX KAEL – 1, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA – 0

Benny Newell: What’d I miss?

Joe Hoffman: We’re not even 30 seconds into the match and Max Kael has jumped out to an early 1-0 lead. Remember folks, the person with the most pin falls or submissions after the 30 minute time limit will be declared the winner.

A brief pause in the action allows America to his feet, but still in pain and shouting expletives at Max that even HOTv would be hesitant to air.

Benny Newell: You know someone’s pissed when they start calling people by “goat-fucking jackass.”

With 29:10 on the clock, Hortega orders the action to continue. This time, America charges at Kael, still favoring his groin, to which Max responds with a Dropkick to America’s knee. America lifts his body to pull himself up, but Max is there to follow up with a “Steppin Time” Curb-stomp to Christopher’s face.

Joe Hoffman: Things do not look good here in the early going, as Maximillian Kael has been ready for America every step of the way.

A huge Great-Maxi Chop keeps America grounded, albeit his attempts to fight back. Kael smirks, when suddenly, his attention is diverted to the crowd. Shane checks the opposing side as well and looks back and forth, as if he was prepared for an attack. No one shows though and this was all the time Christopher America needed to come to his feet. America American Chops Max on the chest and grabs him by the wrist and American-whips him into the ropes with great momentum. America bends forward for the American Back Body Drop, but Max with the Running Knee Strike to avoid the momentum shift yet again. America stands there stunned as Max locks his head and lands the beautifully executed “Singularity” Lightning Spiral finisher!

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

MAX KAEL – 2, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA – 0

Joe Hoffman: And Max extends his early lead to 2 by landing one of the most impactful finishers I’ve tonight! Perhaps America is distracted by the actions of David Black?

The break in the action sees Hortega assist America to his feet as he tries to shake off the cob webs and Maximillian Kael stand in the corner of the ring, biting a fingernail that has become dirtied.

The clock reads 24:23 and Hortega checks on both men before ordering the match to continue.

Benny Newell: Perhaps Max has caught a hang nail? He’s really chomping away at that finger!

Joe Hoffman: That’s the thing about Max Kael… he can be devastatingly focused one minute and completely off base the next. He needs to keep on the attack that he’s so brilliantly displayed thus far or else he’s going to allow America all the time in the world to get back in this thing.

No sooner does Joe say that than does Christopher America land an American Clothesline, sending himself and Max Kael over the top rope and to the outside! The crowd responds with loud applause for Christopher’s first real offense in this 30-minute Iron Man Match.

America’s landing on the outside was a soft one and he immediately takes his American boot to the midsection of Kael. He brings Kael to his feet by his hair and shoots him shoulder-first into the steel ring steps. With Max down for a moment and Hortega checking on him, America quickly reaches under the ring for his American pair of Brass Knuckles, which he tucks away in his wrestling trunks for the time being.

Joe Hoffman: Did you see that? He’s got Brass Knuckles!

Benny Newell: I hate to say this, but America’s got the right idea. Love him or hate him, say what you want about the guy… in fact, I say he’s an asshole… but nonetheless, he needs to get back in this match and the Brass Knuckles are a quick solution should he run into another bind.

Christopher surveys the situation and notices Max stirring near the steps that he threw him against. He climbs the ring apron and salutes the crowd with a signal of what’s to come.

Joe Hoffman: American Elbow-Drop! American Elbow-Drop! I’m getting flashbacks of the Macho Man, Buff!

Kael reels in pain, favoring his ribs after America’s hard landing but it’s not long before America rolls him back into the ring. America follows suit and meets Max with a set of American Punches. Max wobbles before America and Christopher briefly looks out to the crowd who is approving every move. Christopher sets Max up into an Inverted Facelock, and the fans, knowing what’s about to come next, shout together with him in unision:

Christopher America/Crowd: FOR AMERICA!

But Max rolls out of the Inverted Facelock and instead drops America with a Snap DDT!

Joe Hoffman: HUGE momentum shift right there as America has just been laid out.

Max quickly executes a follow up “Arkham Hammer”, a snap elbow drop to the back of America’s head which bloodies his opponenet’s nose! The fans rain down their boos at Kael, showing their support for the “National Treasure”, but it’s not enough, as Kael hits a stomach-turning, Low Blow Heel Stomp on America’s testicles.

Benny Newell: Gee, I hope America was not planning on fathering any children anytime soon! He’s not going to be able to walk after that one!

Joe Hoffman: Question Maximillian Kael all you want, myself included, but there’s a reason he’s a former World Champion and Hall of Famer here in HOW.

America’s misfortune only gets worse, as Kael sizes him up from the opposite side of the ring as America tries his best to come to his knees. With a beet-red face and all, America finally does so, but Max connects with the “2’Buck’20”, a running boot to America’s jaw that nearly decapitates the former LSD champion!

Benny Newell: Was that a tooth that just flew out of Christopher America’s mouth?

Max shrugs, and covers again.

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

Joe Hoffman: Wait! Did America get the shoulder up? No… wait, yes! YES he did! America kicked out!

Christopher America musters up a great deal of heart right there after the tooth-knocking kick to the jaw and has the crowd going bananas and Max covering his ears. Even Kael can’t believe he kicked out and again assists America to his feet for the second Singularity of the match. This time, it’s America that powers out of the face lock and counters with his own finisher, the “For America” Hero’s Welcome cutter.

Benny Newell: Max is down!

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

MAX KAEL – 2, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA – 1

Joe Hoffman: Wow! America really needed that pin fall to stay alive in this one Benny. I thought for sure that Max was going to go up 3 to… wait a second… who’s this?

At the 14:13 mark, David Black appears at the top of the entrance ramp and America immediately notices him. Christopher leans over the ropes with a look of rage, like he wants to tear David Black limb from limb and David just smiles as he holds up the remains to the American flag.

Benny Newell: Look at America! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so pissed off! I’ll drink to that…

Joe Hoffman: Well start chugging, because if America even places a finger on David Black, his LSD Championship shot at Capitol Punishment will become null and void!

Hortega tries to turn America’s focus back to the match, but Christopher is having none of it. After several attempts, Hortega is shoved away as David Black stops at the bottom of the entrance ramp and teases his PPV challenger.

Benny Newell: Lookout!

Joe Hoffman: From behind!

Max Kael with a roll up! It takes Hortega a minute to bring himself back and he notices the cover.

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

MAX KAEL – 3, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA – 1

America can’t believe it. He pulls up, stunned that he allowed David Black distract him long enough for Max to recover and gain another pin fall. Meanwhile, David Black follows America along the outside of the ring, egging him on to the point where Christopher America can’t take it anymore.

At the 13:11 mark, America leans through the ropes, getting half-way through before stopping himself and getting back into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Max just scored a quick roll up for a pin fall, all thanks to David Black!

Benny Newell: And the best part is, America is furious. His patience and limits are really being tested here and all will play a big factor when he challenges for the LSD title at Capitol Punishment.

America signals to Hortega that he is ready to continue while Max Kael merely leans against the ropes. Hortega gives the signal and America comes out firing. American Knife-edge chops, American Punches, American Kicks, and for good measure, an American Low Blow!!

Joe Hoffman: I’ve always been one to say ‘what goes around comes around’.

The recent shift in momentum causes David Black to hop up on the apron, knowing that Christopher America can’t touch him. Hortega becomes distracted by this and starts shouting in Spanish for Black to return to the back. With Hortega’s back turned, Christopher America reaches into his trousers for the Brass Knuckles that he hid away. The crowd roars at the sight of the Brass Knucks and for what’s to come for Max Kael.

With Kael woozy and Hortega still occupied with David Black, America secures the knucks on his fist and lands a knockout blow to the former co-owner of HOW!

Benny Newell: Pay attention Hortega! Vamos!

Joe Hoffman: I didn’t know you knew Spanish?

Benny Newell: Banged a Puerto Rican chick back on the circuit many years ago… she kept saying Vamos (Let’s Go!) to me because I was so drunk, I could barely get it up.

Joe Hoffman: Ok, that’s just way too much information…

Back in the ring, America has Max covered and the crowd going crazy for Joel Hortega to turn around. David Black holds out as long as he possibly can, until Hortega finally turns to see America covering Max.

UNO…

DOS…

TRE-

Joe Hoffman: Shoulder up!

Benny Newell: And that was a HELLUVA shot with those Brass Knucks. Max is super human tonight!

The look of frustration on Christopher America’s face says it all as David Black held out long enough, by a milli-second no less, for Max Kael to be able to kick out.

America tosses the Brass Knucks out of the ring and lands several boots to Max’s face as he still lies dazed on the mat. An American Elbow Drop to the sternum takes the wind out of Max’s sails, long enough for him to climb the top rope and land an American Top Rope Leg Drop! Christopher America scrambles until he can finally hook the leg.

UNO…

DOS…

TRES!!!

MAX KAEL – 3, CHRISTOPHER AMERICA – 2

Joe Hoffman: High risk move that pays off in a big way for America! He’s right back in this one but doesn’t have that much time left.

With 6:45 left on the clock, you can sense the desperation for both superstars, but the momentum is currently in America’s favor as Kael needs the ropes to bring himself to his feet.

Benny Newell: Look at David Black! He’s pissing on whatever is left of the burnt American flag!

Joe Hoffman: Possibly a desperation move by the LSD champion as well as he no doubt will do everything possible to prevent Christopher America from tying this thing up.

Christopher America goes ballistic upon seeing this. Storming back and forth in the ring, he pauses, knowing all too well that this is exactly what Max will capitalize on. You can tell that America is torn at heart, but America diverts his attention back to Max, who’s to his feet now, and takes a moment to catch his breath and strategize.

He’s not given much time though, as Hortega signals for the clock to start and with 6:45 left, America has some work to do if he plans on winning this thing.

Benny Newell: ::YAWN:: Boy, I’m exhausted!

Joe Hoffman: You? Just think about those two superstars that are in the ring right now!

Benny Newell: Who gives a fuck about them? I’ve got a…

Max and America lock up in the middle of the ring, although their half-attempted effort at doing so is evident thanks to the exhaustion that is kicking in for both men. Max pushes away from his opponent, wanting no part of making things technical as Black circles the ring on the outside, doing everything he can to get in the mind of Christopher America.

Max appears confident with Black temporarily on his side and decides to play the evasive game, not wanting to initiate any contact with the challenger. Max rolls himself out of the ring with America quick on his heels, but as Christopher gets to the outside, he comes face to face with David Black. Black smirks, having been successful so far at distracting Christopher America as Max stands behind him, taunting him as well. America tries to get by David Black, but Black matches every move.

That is until Shane Reynolds, still battered from his earlier match with Triple P jumps the barricade and stands behind Max! Max backs up step by step until he runs into him. Max pauses for a moment and turns, quickly turning back once he finds his Capitol Punishment opponent standing there with a smile. Max turns back and quickly darts off, sliding back into the ring… but right into Christopher America, who meets him with an American Kick to the Gut and DDT!!!

Joe Hoffman: Plan backfired!

Shane Reynolds and David Black can’t believe it, as the clock now reads 2:12 and America is back on the attack. Max crawls away towards the ring ropes but America stop him by grabbing the ankle. Kael kicks and kicks… and kicks some more to try and fight him off, but America drags him back into the center of the ring and hits the American Double Leg Drop ala Jeff Hardy.

The crowd erupts and offer their desperate cries to America to tie this match up as quickly as possible. America senses this and feeds off their approval, calling for the FOR AMERICA once more. America grabs Kael’s bandaged head and brings him to his feet, only for Kael to drop himself back down dead weight like a sack of bricks. America misses with an American Boot stomp and finds that Kael is again trying to roll away while shielding himself from his attacks.

Benny Newell: Is Max on fire or something? Or is this just a simple lesson in Stop, Drop, and Roll?

A quick shot of Faze is shown via split-screen and the slight smirk on his face says it all as the time quickly ticks away.

1:10

1:09

1:08

America is in hot pursuit of Max and stops him just short of the ring apron and prevents him from rolling out of the ring again. America drags Kael by the boot into the center of the ring and brings him to his feet, despite Max’s best efforts to avoid it.

0:34

0:33

Joe Hoffman: Folks, I’m being told in my headset that if Christopher America does indeed tie this match up, we will have a sudden death overtime match to determine the clear winner!

Max’s thumb to the eye derails America for a moment and he goes to Irish whip him out of the ring, but America holds on! America kicks an American Boot to the ribs of Max Kael…

Joe Hoffman: AMERICAN DREAM!! AMERICAN DREAM!!!

America’s Cobra Clutch Backbreaker finisher has the crowd going ballistic as Christopher locks in the submission portion of the maneuver with 11 seconds left on the clock.

Benny Newell: OH NO!

Joe Hoffman: Can he hold on long enough for Maximillian Kael to tap out?!?

10…

Kael screams in pain as America wrenches him backwards across his knee.

9…

David Black hops back on the apron, with America in clear sight of him.

8…

The sight of David Black simply causes America to lock in the hold tighter.

7…

6…

5…

Hortega checks on Max Kael, whose arm is raised in the air about to tap out on America’s shoulder!

4…

3…

Joe Hoffman: He’s going to tap! Christopher America is going to tie this match up!

2…

1…

Joe Hoffman: HE DID IT! MAX TAPPED OUT! MAX TAPPED OUT!

DING ~ DING ~ DING!

Bryan McVay: Here is your winner in 30:00… MAX KAEL!!!

Joe Hoffman: WHAT?!?

Joel Hortega points to Kael as a replay of the finish is shown on the HOV screen. With EVERYONE’s attention turned toward the HOV, we find that Kael did, indeed, tap out… but not until after the clock just turned 0:00 with only a few milli-seconds prior.

Benny Newell: Holy fuckin’ shit… that was close!

Joe Hoffman: Wow, what a finish! What a match! Max Kael was literally saved by the bell. And you’ve got to feel for Christopher America…as he gave everything he had to the former World Champion.

Trainers check on Max as he struggles out of the ring but in victory. Christopher America is in shock as the fans loudly boo Max Kael on his walk up the entrance ramp in support of America’s efforts. America dejectedly steps through the ropes and out of the ring andslowly makes his way over to the timekeeper’s table. Breathing heavily from exhaustion and grabbing his stomach, still feeling the pain of the match, America reaches for a microphone and points towards the entrance ramp.

Christopher America: Faze! You think this is over? It has only just begun! Because at Capitol Punishment…

::panting::

it will be that little bitch right there ::points to David Black:: with GM Faze in his corner… vs. Christopher America and the man who signed me to his talent agency…

MARVELOUS MARIO MAURAKO!

The crowd erupts at the announcement as Joe does his best to speak over them, noting that despite his loss tonight, Christopher America will have his former AoA cohorts to watch his back at Capitol Punishment, as he tries to reclaim the LSD title with Triple M in his corner and Triple P as the Special Guest Referee.

*END OF TRANSMISSION*

Show Details

The Best Arena

Chicago, Illinois

Show times

  • 9:00PM
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