LOCKED & LOADED 2017

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LOCKED & LOADED 2017

Post by Tony Atlas on Mon May 22, 2017 6:59 pm






The arena is gigantic, a blue spotlight beaming across the thousands of RPW fans stretching far and wide across the stands of the Mohegan Sun Arena. Blue and white fireworks blast from the stage, all way down the ramp, and finally end as all four corners of the ring shoot bright blue pyro into the air! The crowd boom with applause! They're ready... for LOCKED & LOADED!

J.R.: Hello ladies and gentlemen! I am Jim Ross...

Tazz: And I'm Tazz!

J.R.: And tonight we're in the Mohegan Sun Arena, in Pennsylvania, to bare witness to LOCKED & LOADED!

Tazz: And I'm Tazz!

J.R.: This is looking to be one hell of a show tonight Tazz!

Tazz: You're god damn right it is J.R! The bad blood going into tonight, from almost all of our competitors, is like something I've never before seen!

J.R.: Absolutely, there is so much at stake tonight! Championships, bragging rights, revenge, you name it, this Pay-Per-View has got it!

Tazz: Well let's get started J.R.!



The old school graphic flashes, before the audience is allowed a black and white view of a hidden camera in the upper corner of the room. It allows The Road Dogg, Jesse James to be seen. Based on his positioning, we can see that he's adorned in a football-like jersey, where on the back it reads "JAMES" above a proud number "69", tucked into his normal tights and boots. He's got his hands on his hips, his head down, and seems to be talking to someone. Who? We don't know quite yet.

Road Dogg
Man... man, what the hell happened? I did everything to come back. I went on that Rogaine regimen to get my braids back. I went down to Orlando to train with Haitch and the boys. I stopped smoking for a whole week to pass the initial drug test.

This really seems to have hurt him. He stops talking. He runs his hand through his braids which have barely anything to do with Rogaine and everything to do with producing money from WWE, fantastic weave extensions, and an expensive salon. When talks again, his voice is lighter, his pain quite clearly shown.

Road Dogg
And... and then what? ... For what? I ain't won once. Not-a-once. I done lost my smile. I was an Intercontinental Champion. Hardcore Champ before 24/7. A six time, World Wrestling Entertainiment, tag team champion of the woo.....

His catchphrase trails off into the pit of his depression. He can't even finish it. There's a sniffle. Then sounds of sobbing.

???
Man, are you cryin'?


The voice is thick with a Texas accent. Road Dogg attempts to respond between his weeping.

Road Dogg
Uhafuchhk. A wah for whaaaaaaaa?

His cry becomes louder, and finally the person playing Dr. Phil is seen. Unsurprisingly surprisingly, it is none other than the "Badd Ass" Billy Gunn. He's wearing Road Dogg's newest RPW brand T-shirt, tucked into his jeans which are tucked into his cowboy boots. His hair is tied behind his head in a ponytail. He walks up to the sobbing Jesse James, his cries getting gradually louder. Suddenly, with unmitigated force, Mr. Ass smacks the Road Dogg clear across his face. Jesse hunches over in reaction, and then looks up at his best friend of twenty years with bewilderment.

Mr. Ass
Now, boy, I know you ain't sitting here cryin' like a bitch.

Mr. Ass puts his hands on his hips and begins to scold his partner like a father.

Mr. Ass
I've been watching the shows. I've seen it all. You actin' a fool, trying to pretend you wasn't hurt, by the being the loser you've become. This isn't how we rolled back in the day. And I think that's part of your problem.

He pats Road Dogg on his back.

Mr. Ass
C'mon. Let's hype like it's the old days. Get the baby oil. Take off your shirt.

Road Dogg complies, going over to find baby oil. Billy Gunn strips of his shirt, and after the delivering the baby oil, Road Dogg does too. From there, in an uncomfortably methodical way, the legendary tag team begins to sensually rub themselves in Johnson & Johnson. Once it's done, Mr. Ass points to a mirror on the wall.

Mr. Ass
You know what's next, c'mon now.

The Road Dogg and Badd Ass begin to slowly crotch chop into the mirror. Jesse James' seems to be much lazier, much sadder. Truly a sad sight to see; a man too trapped in depression to even crotch chop. To even crotch chop.

Mr. Ass
Stop playing, Jesse. I know you, man. You and Shawn were always the best at telling other men to perform fellatio by way of a swift motion around your crotch, either creating the shape of a U or of an X with your arms. Like ol' times. I know you've got it in you. Let it come out. Alright?

This time Jesse listens. He shakes his head, then takes a good look in the mirror. He spreads his legs to get into the proper form, and stares himself in the eyes.

Road Dogg
You got this, Roadie. You got this and you got that psychotic son of a bitch tonight.

The crotch chopping begins. And this time, Road Dogg's are executed with perfection. He even alternates between the U and the X. Oh joy! Praise be! Has he found his will yet again? The crotch chopping continues, and soon enough, both men are smiling. They begin crotch chopping each other, as their bodies glisten in the light.

All seems to be going just right. But then, there's a kick and the locker room door flies open. Thorn stands at the doorway, a dementedly angry expression on his face as he glares at James. He holds a scotch egg in his white knuckled hand, and lifts it to his face before he takes a gigantic bite out of it. Once he's swallowed, he moves over to his opponent, and gives a big, toothy grin.

Thorn
I see you brought moral support tonight James! Well, let me tell you now, it will not help! You've had your chance to show us all what you're made of, what you bring to RPW, and you have James! We know what your role is! You're the old timer, the nostalgia act... the jobber!

James looks at Thorn angrily.

Thorn
I've proven it time and time again! I threw you out of the Extreme Championship battle royal, I ruined your chances of becoming number one contender to the very same title, and I've pinned you not once! But twice! Tonight, it'll be strike 3! And you know what happens after strike 3 don't you James...

Thorn lifts up the scotch egg in his hand, grinning at it, before he crushes it to pieces in his hand, the egg and meaty slop running through his fingers at to the floor. Once done, he hurtles the remains up into the air, where it splatters on the ceiling and sticks.

Thorn
You are the loser of RPW. That's your role here. Tonight, I'm gonna make you accept it.

Thorn turns and walks away, leaving Mr. Ass and Jesse James to watch him go. The crotch chopping has come to an end. Road Dogg puts his hands on hips and turns around, walking away just a bit. Billy watches Thorn leave, but once he's done, turns to Jesse James. He pats his back, but James, this time, doesn't seem to be back in a depressed state.

Road Dogg
Y'know something, Billy? So far, ain't a thing he said was wrong. But it's time for some shit to change. His confidence, is one of 'em. Interrupting our crotch chop session? Like, c'mon, dude, the nerve. Boundaries.

He looks up at Billy.

Road Dogg
For tonight, I've got only two words for him.

He holds two fingers up proudly.

Road Dogg
Your winner.

He points to himself. He grabs himself and walks out of the locker room. Billy grins, slings his shirt on his shoulder and walks out, excitedly rubbing his hands together.

The titantron changes to Kelly Kelly in the backstage interview area.

Kelly Kelly
Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome my guest, Jeremy Stevens.

A cheer is heard from the crowd and Jeremy walks into the frame.

Kelly Kelly
Jeremy, it's been awhile since you've addressed the RP fans, what's been going on?

Jeremy Stevens
Thank you Kelly, and yes, it has been awhile. I've been dealing with some personal things, and haven't really had a chance to do much more that focus on my matches as of late. But, that's all behind me now, and it all passed just in time to focus on my match with Quincy Reagan tonight.

Kelly Kelly
Speaking of Quincy Reagan, it seems like you two have quite the friendship. Will that effect the way you perform tonight?

Jeremy Stevens
Well you're not wrong, i do consider Quincy a good friend of mine, but it's more of a mutual respect friendship. I respect him both as a man, and the wrestler that he is, and I'm sure he thinks the same way. So to answer your question, no, our friendship will not effect either of us in this match, nor will the outcome change our friendship.

Kelly Kelly
Does the fact that you've beaten Quincy once already make you feel better going into this match?

Jeremy Stevens
I'd be lying if I said that in my mind it doesn't matter, because it does make me feel a little bit better, but I almost have to forget about, but not at the same time. I have to remember back to that match and try to think of important moments that eventually led to my victory. But I have to thing that Quincy would have been doing the same to prevent that lose.
Another important factor is the 2 out of 3 match type. Whoever wants the victory tonight will not only have to pin or submit his opponent once, but twice, which is going to make this match even harder for the both of us.


Kelly Kelly
Lastly, win or lose tonight, what's next for Jeremy Stevens?

Jeremy Stevens
Well, I still have a promise I made to the RPW fans. And that promise was to win the RPW championship. and what would make winning that belt better, is winning it off of Howell Saxon.

The crowd boos at the mention of Saxons name.

Jeremy Stevens
I feel like winning here tonight would put me right back into the title picture with guys like Howell Saxon and Kevin Owens. so after my match tonight i'm definitely going to be keeping my eye on the Main Event tonight. But a loss would be a little tougher. We all saw what happened last time I lost an important match, and I don't want to have to relive that deep, terrible feeling I had.

Kelly Kelly
Thank you Jeremy and good luck with your match tonight.

Jeremy smiles, nods his head and walks out of the frame.






Ooooooooh, you didn't knoooow?

...

Yo ass better caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall somebodaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay......

Tazz: Looks like we're starting off with the Road Dogg! Talk about a grand opening!

Tonight, the classic dialogue seems to be more like its old self than before so far in RPW. Out of the curtain comes the Road Dogg, Jesse James, flanked to his left by his twenty year colleague and best friend, the Badd Ass, Billy Gunn. They've both put their shirts back on since earlier in the evening, except Road Dogg has added a black bucket hat to his attire, and Billy Gunn: sunglasses to his.

J.R.: It's Billy Gunn too Tazz!

Tazz: That's right J.R., he has a front row ticket to this event!

Billy Gunn chomps down enthusiastically on a piece of gum with a grin as he takes his side of the stage. Jesse James has the other, where he does his usual routine with the water bottle and the crotch chops.

Road Dogg
Ooooh, it's me, it's me. It's that D-OOOOOOO-double G. Back once again with that B-A-double D A-double crooked letter.

They begin to walk down the ramp, but stop midway. With the crowd's outrageous pop not yet anywhere quelled, they only raise the excitement more when they begin a dual crotch chop: Road Dogg spreading his legs and arms out wide, Mr. Ass coming from behind him and crotch chopping toward Jesse's lower abdominal region. Afterwards, they slide into the ring and take centerstage as the music comes to an end.

Road Dogg
I know y'all ain't forgot this but like the times, you gotta change it up a little. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages. Ruthless Pro Wrestling proudly brings to you, its multi-time tag team champions of the woooooooooooooooorld! The Road Dogg, Jesse James! The Badd Ass, Billy Gun! THE NEW! AGE! OUTLAWS!

The crowd pops to hell after chanting along with that last bit. Jesse throws the microphone to Billy.

Mr. Ass
And, well... If you're not down with that, we got two words for ya!

Mr. Ass proudly holds the microphone in the air.

Suck it!

He throws the microphone out of the ring, before he turns to his friend and gives him a reassuring pat on the back. With that, Gunn exits the ring, and leaps the barricade, taking a front row seat for the match.

Tazz: Nothing like a good bit of nostalgia!

J.R.: Well that's what James is trying to prove he isn't Tazz, just a nostalgia act here in RPW!



The cheers change to boos, as the arena is hurtled into a blood-like crimson. The curtain is thrown to one side, and Thorn emerges, the usual intense and overly aggressive expression upon his face. His whole body is tensed up, and his whole body moves up and down with his huffs and puffs, like a villain in a child's TV show. He shrieks as loudly as he can, before stomping his way down the ramp to the ring.

Tazz: And The Cannibal has arrived!

Tony Chimel: The following is a one on one match! Entering first, from Marietta, Georgia... The Road Dogg... JESSE JAMES! And his opponent, from Memphis Tenessee... The Cannibal... THORN!

J.R.: This man has shared some nasty words with his opponent tonight over the last few weeks, telling him that he's nothing but a loser here in RPW, and that that's all he ever will be!

Tazz: You gotta see where he's coming from though J.R.! James hasn't won a single match yet in RPW, and a lot of those losses have been in matches involving Thorn.

J.R.: Well, can that change tonight?

Once by ringside, he moves around the ring to where Billy Gunn is sat, before snarling at him. Gunn only laughs, but Thorn pays no attention, his vision having now snapped to his opponent, the Road Dogg, Jesse James. Thorn rolls into the ring, and moves right over to James, getting in his face. He smiles at him, and starts uttering the word 'loser' over and over again, causing James to get fiery and amped up.

J.R.: Thorn keeps riling up James like that, he may find this match to be more difficult than he anticipated!

Tazz: If James could do anything to Thorn, he would've done it already J.R.! He has nothing to worry about!

The referee gets in between them, and tells them to move into their seperate corners, having to almost push the eager Thorn into his. Once the pair are in their opposite corners, the referee calls for the match to begin.

The bell rings.

And like he always does, Thorn sets off, stomping across the ring to his opponent! Thorn leaps through the air, but Road Dogg ducks, and the Cannibal is sent crashing face first into the turnbuckle! James unloads into the face of Thorn with a series of punches, until Thorn catches one, and rocks James with a right hand of his own! Knee to the stomach, keeling James over, before Thorn runs at the ropes and bounds back... BACK BODY DROP from James! Thorn rolls around the mat, clutching his back.

J.R.: What were you saying Tazz?

Tazz: It's only a matter of time, just you wait.

James picks the Cannibal to his feet, before getting behind his back, lifting him, and dropping him ass first on his knee for an atomic drop! Thorn grits his teeth in pain as he stumbles forwards into the ropes, but as James tries to follow up on the move, is greeted by an elbow to the face, knocking James back. Thorn turns around, charges at James, and smashes him down with a LARIAT!

Thorn covers him...

1...

Kickout!

Thorn stomps on James a few times, before lifting him to his feet, picking him up in a Spinebuster position, and then charging at the turnbuckle and slamming James into it back first! Thorn holds onto the middle ropes, and continues to thrust his shoulder into James' mid-section! With all the wind knocked out of him, James is helpless as Thorn lifts him up, and positions his legs on the top rope, before clutching around his head...

Tazz: Here we go!

ROPE-HUNG STUNNER...

NO! James uses his weight to pull himself out of the ring and onto the apron! Thorn stumbles back right into an elbow from James, knocking him dizzily to his knees. With that, the Road Dogg sees his opportunity, and starts to climb to the top rope!

Thorn starts to move to his feet, as James measures him... he leaps... DIVING CROSS BODY! He crashes on top of Thorn, pinning the Cannibal to the mat! He follows up by hooking his leg for the count...

1...


2..


KICKOUT!

J.R.: Oh he almost had him there!

James moves to his feet, and looks down at Thorn who lays still dazed on the mat. He smiles up at the fans, and immediately, they understand the idea he's going for. James runs at the ropes, then bounds back, before doing his shaky knee dance, before going for the SHAKY KNEE DROP...

NO! Thorn lifts a forearm right into James' stomach, before he jumps to his feet, locks James up, and plants him down with a FULL NELSON SLAM! Thorn rolls him over again for another pin...

1...


2...



KICKOUT!

J.R.: Another close call!

Thorn sits up angrily, before throwing James to his feet, and locking him up for a GUTWRENCH SUPLEX... but James fights out of it! Thorn tries to control his opponent again, but a left jab to the face halts him! And another left jab! And a third! Road Dogg does his little jive, setting up for that one last hook... HE HITS IT! SHAKE RATTLE AND ROLL! Thorn hits the mat!

Thorn tries to get to his feet, but stumbles into the corner. He turns around... CORNER CLOTHESLINE from James! Thorn is rocked, as James climbs up onto the middle rope, mounting his opponent, before firing jab after jab into his face. The crowd count with him, getting all the way to 15, before Thorn finally throws him off. Red faced and angry now, Thorn charges at James, screaming as loudly as humanly possible... but a BIG BOOT knocks him down!

Thorn tries to propel himself back to his feet, but he's too dizzy, and collapses right back down again. James takes advantage, and sticks Thorn's head between his legs, before grabbing the end of his singlet, and dropping him on his head with a SPIKE PILEDRIVER! Thorn lays on the mat, unable to move out of dizzyness, as James bounds at the ropes, and upon returning to Thorn, shakes his knees, before... SHAKY KNEE DROP! IT HITS!

J.R.: That's it! It's over!

Tazz: You might be right J.R.!


James gets the cover...

1...




2...





KICKOUT!

J.R.: Aww no!

Tazz: If James can't pin him after all that, I don't know what else he has that he can do!

The crowd are in as much disbelief as James, who sits up, clearly shocked at the kickout. But James won't let it stop him, he's straight back to his feet, and urging for Thorn to get to his... the Cannibal does so... and James sets him up!

PUMPHANDLE DROP!

NO! Thorn powers out of it! He smashes an boot into James belly, before following up with a GUTWRENCH SUPLEX! Thorn angrily stomps on James over and over, absolutely relentlessly angry, before finishing off the stomps with one final, brutal, jumping stomp to James' face! The Road Dogg looks out for the count, as Thorn grins a nasty grin looking down at him.

J.R.: What does Thorn have planned here?

Tazz: I dunno but I'm guessing it won't be nice!

He bends down, and picks up James by the ears, putting his face in James', and yelling 'YOU ARE A LOSER JAMES! A LOSER! AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE!' before wrapping his arm around his throat, and setting him up for his violent finisher...

SHOULDER JAWBREAKER!






NO! JAMES BITES THORN ON THE SIDE OF THE HEAD!

J.R.: WHAT!? BAH GAWD! HE BIT HIM!

Tazz: He bit Thorn! James bit Thorn! He gave him some of his own medicine!

Thorn wails in pain, clutching the bite mark on the side of his face! But not for long! James grabs him from behind, locking him up in a Pumphandle position! He lifts him...


PUMPHANDLE DROP! IT HITS!

J.R.: HE'S HIT IT! THE PUMPHANDLE DROP! THIS COULD BE IT!

James crashes Thorn to the mat, before piling on top of him for the pin...

1...




2...





...3!

Jesse James defeats Thorn in 15:21

J.R.: And Jesse James picks up his first win here in RPW!

Tazz: Good on the guy, I'm happy for him! Sorry for doubting him!

The crowd burst into cheers, as James jumps to his feet, realising he can now hold his hand up in the air, victorious, for the first time in his RPW career. He looks ecstatic, and overcome with joy, as the referee moves over to him, and declares him the winner! He jumps quickly to the top rope, and raises both of his arms, the crowd chanting his name over and over!

But a noise is made behind him... James turns around, to see that Thorn is back to his feet, and he's looking furious! He's redder than he's ever before seen, and he's almost shaking with pure, white, rage! He squeals at the top of his lungs, as he gets ready to charge at James...



FAME ASSER! Thorn plummets face first to the mat, as Billy Gunn stands over him! The crowd cheer, as James runs over to his friend, and the pair hug, before Gunn raises James' hand. The crowd continue to cheer the scene, of the two friends victorious in the ring, before the scene fades out.

The camera crossfades to the backstage area. The cameraman is walking down the hallway, getting a shot of all the wrestlers who have wrestled and the ones anticipated to wrestle doing their thing. Midway down the wide corridor, there is a sudden call. The camera man has to walk back and turn to his right. There, about twenty-five to thirty feet away, leaning with his arms crossed against a large metal chest, is Quincy Reagan. He's dressed in tonight's ring gear: a glossy pair of purple trunks with black kneepads that are overlapped by his long, shiny jet black boots. At the time the cameraman has put the spotlight on him, he's looking up. Soon enough, however, he looks back down and grabs from on top of the crate he's leaning on, an elbow pad.

Quincy Reagan
Hey, look, is that thing broadcasting?

The cameraman must've responded with affirmation, which leads Reagan to continue. He begins to slip the pad over his left arm.

Quincy Reagan
Bring it here for a second. I got something I wanna say. Won't be too long, don't worry my man.

The cameraman complies and walks closer to Reagan, giving him a proper shot. Quincy adjusts the left elbow pad and begins to slide on the right.

Quincy Reagan
It's no secret to anyone that I've been quiet. Yeah, I ain't said much at all since All Out Brawl. Took me a little while to really tell myself why. Why I was quiet. Why?

He adjusts the right elbow pad then looks into the camera.

Quincy Reagan
Coulda been a few things. Coulda been shame. Embarrassment. Coulda been humility. Coulda just been, I ain't had shit to say. But I dunno about that last one. Nah, I had plenty to say. Too much, probably. In my younger days, I always had something to say. Too much to say.

He rubs the scar on his pectoral. He then grabs the white wrist tape on the chest.

Quincy Reagan
Definitely wasn't at a loss for words. No sir, I mighta grown up, seen the error in my ways. But a nigga like me doesn't ever fully depart from what he is, or where he comes from. And that was the problem. Not having too much to say, but who I am. I had a little homecoming recently, and it painted it all out really clear for me.

He begins to wrap the wrist tape around his left wrist.

Quincy Reagan
I talked to a very important man in the history of my life, and he reminded me of a little something he first taught me in a whole different time. 'Do what you need to do.'

The wrapping continues. His talking doesn't. The silence is anything but awkward. It's intense, as though a certain tension is just starting to build.

Quincy Reagan
At All Out Brawl, I didn't do what I needed to do. The weeks following, I didn't do what I need to do. Shit, too many times in my life, I haven't done what I needed to do. But, hey, I'm not dead yet.

He finishes the left wrapping and then completely wraps his right. He puts down the tape.

Quincy Reagan
Let me cut to the chase. Jeremy Stevens, I'm talking directly to you now.

He looks up at the camera.

Quincy Reagan
I respect you. I respect the kind of man you are. The message you put out, the way you carry yourself. I respect your ability. You beat me. Plain, simple, no conspiracy behind it. You're a talented type of dude. I respect you.

He crosses his arms. His right hand begins to attach to his chin, rubbing the growing stubble around his goatee.

Quincy Reagan
But, I respect myself. I respect myself too much to be sat around here, sorry for myself for a spell of bad luck and bad performance. I respect myself too much to allow myself to be less than what my kids, and what I myself, expect out of me. I respect myself too much to lose. Something I gotta do? Beat you. Beat you, and, with all due respect, make you stepping stone. And I respect you enough to warn you: that's gonna happen tonight. Twice.

He stands tall from leaning on the chest. He begins to walk off, and the cameraman pulls away his gaze.

Quincy Reagan
Oh, and one more thing.

The camera turns back to Quincy, who has walked probably about twenty feet away. He holds the number one up.

Quincy Reagan
After that? One other thing I gotta do? Owens. Saxon. Whoever holds the gold at the end of the night. Be on the lookout.

Quincy turns his hand around and turns the number five. With every word, a finger falls.

Quincy Reagan
Ruthless Professional Wrestling World Champion.

The five is now a fist. He points to himself, a confident smirk accompanying the gesture. He turns and walks off with a certain stride in his step.

The camera fades now to a different part of the backstage area, to Dean Ambrose looking at the camera intensely.

Dean Ambrose
Tonight is gonna be fun guys. Tonight I get my hands on Kurt Angle in my own personal playground; no rules, no limits, not restrictions. But there is just one problem. Kurt says he isn't gonna use any weapons; like at all. What a killjoy am I right?. Kurt you're gonna deprave these precious fans of yours of a real fight? for what? to prove you are better than me? come on now Kurt, shame on you. Well you know what, I am going to give your fans what they want. I am gonna tear you a part with anything that I find in this arena. I am going to fill you with so much pain and rage that the only way you'll truly feel happy again, is by almost killing me with any object of your choosing. Hell I am even gonna give you a free shot straight to my face with any weapon you want. I am going to make you want to destroy me Kurt; I will sow you what you are truly capable of. After tonight, your children are going to be terrified to see daddy.

Dean Ambrose Smirks as the camera slowly pans down and fades to black.






A loud pop sounds, as Reagan jogs out onto the stage, bouncing up and down on the spot in anticipation for the match. A smile emerges on his face, as he takes in the cheers from the crowd, before he lifts his hand up in the air, all five fingers spread out. One by one, he drops a finger, until only his fist is raised in the air. With that fist, he beats his chest, before moving on his way down to the ring.

Tony Chimel: The following is a 2 Out of 3 Falls Match! Entering first, from the South Side of Chicago, Illinois... QUINCY REAGAN!

Reagan delivers high fives and fist bumps to fans reaching over the barricade towards him, seeing one young child in a Quincy Reagan T-Shirt. Quincy approaches the child, compliments his shirt, and then gives him a fist bump, before ruffling the child's hair and moving on down the ramp. Once by ringside, Reagan rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring.

J.R.: The last time these two men went at it, despite having the clear size and strength advantage, it was Jeremy Stevens who managed to pick up the win!

Tazz: That's right, but keep in mind J.R., that was a roll-up, and tonight, is a 2 out of 3 falls match. If he catches Reagan with a roll-up tonight, I'm certain that Reagan won't let him get him with another. He'll have to think up some new tactics to be victorious in this one.

He jumps up onto the turnbuckle and raises his arms again, before pointing down the hard camera, and nodding slowly at it, straight to his kids who he knows to be watching. He then jumps back off and circles the ring, before readying himself as he looks down at the stage.



The crowd cheer again, as out of the curtain, bounds Jeremy Stevens, a smile back on his face that the fans haven't seen since his loss last PPV against Howell Saxon. Stevens runs into the middle of the stage, slams his hand on the metal flooring below him, before windmilling it through the air, and performing his fist bump! As he does so, bright blue pyro explodes from the stage behind, causing the crowd to cheer.

Tony Chimel: And his opponent, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada... the High Flyer... JEREMY STEVENS!

Stevens too high fives the fans as he runs down to the ring, bounding through the air and up onto the apron, before flipping himself over the top rope and into the ring. From there, he jumps up onto the turnbuckles, performing his windmill fistbump, the crowd doing it with him.

J.R.: Nice to see a smile back on his face!

Tazz: It is J.R., that man hasn't looked this happy since his loss at All Out Brawl.

Eventually, he climbs back down, and comes face to face with Reagan. The pair nod at one another respectfully, before bumping fists, and moving off into their seperate corners.

Tony Atlas
Ladies and Gentlemen...

The entirity of the crowd turn to face the stage, cheering as they see Tony Atlas has emerged out from behind the curtain, microphone in hand.

Tony Atlas
...boys and girls... what you are about to see, I have no doubts, will be an incredible match, between two of the top men this company has. Two men who, with their words earlier tonight, made it abundantly clear to me, that they deserve a shot at the guys at the top.

Stevens and Reagan both nod their heads, the crowd giving a warm response of approval.

Tony Atlas
That's why, this match... is now a Number One Contenders match!

The crowd pop with excitement, as huge smiles emerge on the faces of Reagan and Stevens.

Tony Atlas
That's right, the winner of this match, will get a shot at the RPW World Championship, on next week's episode of SHOWTIME! So good luck gentlemen! HE HE HE HA HO HE!

With that, Tony heads back through the curtain backstage. The crowd are now twice as excited, as are the two men in the ring.

J.R.: A no. 1 contenders match! That adds a lot of stakes to this match Tazz!

The bell rings.

Quincy and Stevens begin to circle one another, both of them showing off impressive speed and agility right off the bat. But the quicker man moves in first! Stevens charges forwards, and lands a kick right across Reagan's leg! Quincy reaches out for him, but Stevens cartwheels away before he can get a hold of him! Reagan follows up by charging at Stevens, who ducks under his attempt at a clothesline, before propelling himself through the air, and landing a Pele kick across Reagan's face!

Tazz: Jesus! The agility!

Quincy falls back into the corner, where Stevens charges at him, going for a splash! But Reagan catches him! He carries Stevens into the center of the ring, before lifting him up high onto his shoulder, and planting him down hard in the middle of the ring with a SPINEBUSTER!

Tazz: Jesus! The strength!

Quincy gets the first cover...

1...

Kickout!

Reagan lifts Stevens back up with incredible strength, all way back onto his shoulders without Jeremy's feet even touching the mat! He looks ready to plant him down with a Samoan Drop! But Stevens slides off of his shoulders! He pushes Reagan into the ropes, and upon the Strong-Man bouncing back, plants him down with a SLINGBLADE!

This time Stevens gets the cover...

1...

Kickout!

J.R.: Only a one count!

Stevens gets to his feet, as does Reagan, but Stevens is the first one into action, landing a dropkick into the back of Quincy's legs! Reagan falls forwards, guillotining himself on the ropes, before Jeremy charges, leaps over the top rope, and lands a leg drop down on the back of Quincy's head! Quincy is hotshotted into the ropes, before falling backwards into the ring!

Stevens jumps up onto the apron, before leaping up onto the top rope, and landing a picture perfect Springboard Corkscrew onto Quincy!

J.R.: What a beautiful manouvre!

Tazz: But can it put him away?

He pins him...

1...

2...

KICKOUT!

J.R.: No! No pins yet!

Stevens is straight back to his feet, running at the ropes, and bounding back at the downed Reagan... he leaps through the air! STANDING SHOOTING STAR PRESS! NO! Reagan moves and Stevens crashes down face first! Quincy lifts Stevens up, and turns him around into a Suplex! Quincy lifts Jeremy vertically, before holding him there! The crowd cheer him on, as he continues to hold Jeremy above him, letting all of the blood rush to his opponents head and send him dizzy!

After an impressive amount of time, Reagan gets ready to slam Jeremy down on his face! SITOUT FACEBUSTER! NO! Stevens rolls through it, locking his legs around Reagan's!

HE GETS HIM IN A SMALL PACKAGE!

Tazz: We could see the first pinfall of the match!

1...



2...





KICKOUT!

J.R.: NO! Again! So close!

Reagan pushes a disbelieving Stevens away from him, before getting back to his feet as quickly as he can. But Stevens won't let his momentum stop! He charges at Reagan just as he turns around...

SHINING WIZARD!

NO! Reagan catches him! He throws Stevens high up into the air, garnering a gasp from the crowd, before Stevens plummets to the mat with a FREE-FALL DROP! Reagan sits on the back of Stevens, before locking both of his hands under his chin, and pulling his head back with a Camel Clutch! Stevens reaches towards the ropes, trying to free himself of the pain being applied to his jaw, but they're too far away...

J.R.: Stevens could tap here!

Tazz: I would if I were him! That Camel Clutch looks painful!

Stevens uses his flexibility to lift up one of his legs, and creating some leeway from himself, kicks away at one of Reagan's feet! Quincy falls off balance, and Stevens takes advantage, rolling himself forward, which in turn plunges Reagan over his head and into the ropes! Stevens locks him up from behind...

BRIDGE DRAGON SUPLEX!

J.R.: Oh wow!

The referee counts it...

1...


2...


KICKOUT!

J.R.: And we're still at nill nill Tazz!

Tazz: I can't believe it!

This time it's Stevens turn to apply a submission, as he grabs Reagan by the legs, turns him over... and locks him up in a SHARPSHOOTER! Reagan grunts in pain, trying to fight out of it, but Stevens has it locked in, and applies more and more pressure!

J.R.: Now Reagan may tap!

Quincy starts to slowly crawl towards the ropes in front of him, his hand outstretched as far as it can go! Stevens tries to hold him in place, but it's no use, Quincy is just too strong, and is able to pull the smaller man with him! Quincy makes one final reach... and grabs the bottom rope, forcing Stevens to let go of the move!

Stevens tries to immediately follow up on it as he grabs Quincy and tries to pull him to his feet, but Reagan plants a European Uppercut across his face! With Stevens rocked, Reagan hurtles the smaller man away from him, into the ropes, where the smaller man bounds right back! Reagan is waiting for him as he runs at his opponent full speed...



POUNCE! REAGAN NAILS JEREMY WITH A POUNCE!

J.R.: The Pounce! This could be it! We could see our first fall here!

The High Flyer soars across the ring, where he plummets into the turnbuckle nastily, before crumpling to the mat! Reagan grabs him by the legs, and drags him into the middle of the ring, before pinning him...

1...



2...




...3!

First Pinfall goes to Quincy Reagan!

Tazz: And Reagan picks up the lead with the first pin!

J.R.: Stevens has some catching up to do now!

Reagan looks pleased with himself, having gained the first pin of the match! He quickly realises the effectiveness of the move, and goes for another pin attempt against Stevens...

1...



2.. KICKOUT!

Reagan gets up to his knees, realising that Stevens has recuperated enough that he won't be able to get him with another pin attempt. He lifts Jeremy to his feet, and throws him into the ropes once more, ready to finish things off! When Stevens bounds back, he lifts him onto his shoulders...



MICHINOKU DRIVER!


NO! Stevens slides right over him, before nailing a dropkick into Reagan's upperback! Quincy flies forwards, bounding into the ropes himself, and Stevens readies himself, bouncing off of the ropes on the other side of the ring! As Quincy bounds back, Stevens charges at him, leaps through the air... and...


RUNNING KNEE STRIKE!

Tazz: And he may just have caught up!

Reagan's head snaps backwards as he plummets to the mat hard! Jeremy turns around and leaps on top of him, before hooking his leg...

1...



2...




...3!

Second Pinfall goes to Jeremy Stevens!

J.R.: And now it's back to a draw!

Tazz: Next pin wins it!

Jeremy sits up and raises his arm, a little celebration for gaining a pin in the match. He looks ready to go for another pin, before noticing that Quincy is already regaining his composure. Stevens curses himself, realising he chose to celebrate instead of going for another pin. Instead, he goes right back on the offense! He grabs Quincy around the head, runs at the ropes, and bounces off them with his feet... TORNADO DDT!

NO! Reagan throws Stevens away from him! Stevens runs right back at the big man, but he's sent flipping through the air with a powerful looking clothesline! Stevens gets back to his feet using the ropes, but Reagan grabs him from behind, going for a back suplex... but Stevens lifts a knee up into his face, knocking Reagan away from him! Stevens uses the time to springboard off of the ropes, lock his legs around Reagan's hand, and crash him to the mat with a HURRICANRANA!

He turns it into a pin...

J.R.: Is this it?!

1...



2...




KICKOUT!

Stevens rolls into the turnbuckle, where he watches as Quincy gets to his feet. He runs right back at him, before smashing him across the chest with a running dropkick, sending Reagan into the opposing turnbuckle! Unexpectedly, Reagan uses it as momentum, bounding right back into Stevens, grabbing him with both arms, and lifting him above his head with a GORILLA PRESS!

He holds Stevens there for a moment or two, showing his pure strength, but not for as long as he'd like, thanks to the match having worn him down! He drops Stevens onto his shoulder, before running a circle around the ring, and planting him down flat on his back in the middle of the mat with an OKLAHOMA SLAM!

He covers him...

1...




2...





KICKOUT!

Reagan sits up, in disbelief at the resilience of his friend, before he gets right back to work. He lifts up Jeremy, locking him straight up for a suplex... he lifts him... but Jeremy slides right through! Reagan turns around, but is subject to a gut kick from Stevens, before he to locks him up in a suplex hold... he lifts Reagan...


BRAINBUSTER!

The crowd are in shock at Stevens bringing the move out of nowhere, before he hooks Reagan's leg and lays on top of him...

J.R.: THAT MIGHT BE IT! Stevens may be our new number one contender!


1...




2...






KICKOUT!

J.R.: NO!

Tazz: Holy shit!

Stevens rolls away from his opponent following the kick out, before moving up onto his knees and watching as Reagan continues to lay on the mat. Despite kicking out, he still seems out of it, and an idea enters Stevens head. He gets to his feet, moves over to the turnbuckle, and starts to climb...

Stevens reaches the top rope, performing his signature Windmill Fistbump taunt as the crowd get ready for him to hit that picture perfect Phoenix Splash of his...

Tazz: If he hits this, it's over...

But Reagan is up! He grabs Jeremy's leg, and pulls him off of the top rope, right into his arms! Stevens is helpless, as Reagan throws him through the air, where he stun guns him on the top rope! Stevens stumbles backwards away from the ropes, dazed, where Reagan is waiting for him...



MICHINOKU DRIVER!


HE PLANTS HIM! Reagan crawls on top of Stevens for the pin...

J.R.: And that's it! It has to be over...

1...





2...






...3!

Quincy Reagan defeats Jeremy Stevens in 19:32

J.R.: And it is!

Tony Chimel: And your winner... QUINCY REAGAN!

And Reagan rolls away from his fallen opponent, as the bell rings. He's to his knees, looking shattered, before he raises his arm in victory. He makes his way to his feet, and stumbles into the corner, before the referee moves over to him and raises his hand.

Tazz: Quincy Reagan now has a shot at the title, next Showtime!

Stevens is to his feet now, and moves over to his friend, before offering his hand. Reagan takes it, and the pair shake hands, before Stevens raises Quincy's hand and points at him in a sign of respect.

J.R.: This is what I like about these two, mutual respect!

Reagan moves over to the turnbuckle, and climbs it, taking in the cheers from the audience as he raises up his arm once more. With Quincy soaking in the victory, the cameras fade out.


TBC


Last edited by Tony Atlas on Mon May 22, 2017 7:07 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: LOCKED & LOADED 2017

Post by Tony Atlas on Mon May 22, 2017 7:06 pm

The scene fades to a some kind of area that we can discern is somewhere backstage. A backstage area, if you will. Standing inside the backstage area is a man. The man is called Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker. The man called Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is staring into a camera, which is also inside the backstage area, directly in front of the man called Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker, who is stood directly in the middle of the backstage area. The camera, therefore, is slightly off center. We do not see the camera itself, as it is in fact the very thing being used to show us the backstage area, and Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker in the first place, and a camera cannot film itself, but it is there. How else would we see the backstage area? Beats me. There would be no other way, unless, of course, there was a second camera in the room that could film the camera that Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is staring into. This would eliminate any chance of the audience being confused as to what Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is staring at (the camera), however it is not strictly necessary. Through simple logic, we can understand that there is a camera in the room and that is what Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is staring into. There is no need for a second camera to show this. It does not need to be seen to be understood. There may be a second camera in the room somewhere, just through sheer coincidence, but it is not switched on, and it is certainly not pointing at the camera that is pointing at Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker.

Unless, perhaps, the second camera that is not switched on is behind the camera that is pointing at Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker. That is a possibility because we cannot see anything behind the camera facing Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker, as it serves our only glimpse into the backstage area, and cannot film in both directions, as cameras that can do that have not been invented. Well maybe they have, I haven't done much research into it, but regardless of whether they exist or not, this is not a camera that can film in both directions. It is filming in one direction only. North. It is pointing towards Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker who is stood in front of it, looking south.

Just as it would seem that Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is about to say the very first thing he intends to say during this segment in the backstage area, a broom falls on the floor. Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker is visibly surprised by this, and we can tell this through a number of key giveaways. Firstly, his eyebrows. The original position of the eyebrows of Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker were relatively low compared to, say, the average resting face of a human being. One could call the original position of his eyebrows a 'frown', and this suggests that he was experiencing feelings of perhaps anger, mistrust or anything from a wide range of mostly negative emotions. That was all in the past. The eyebrows, upon hearing the sound of the broom crashing to the floor, have raised a significant amount. They were once quite close to his eyes, and now they are quite far away from his eyes, now that he has heard the broom. That's the first giveaway we have. Another is that the eyes of Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker widen. Again, before the broom incident, Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker's eyes were fairly squinted. They were fairly squinted. This could mean that the eyes of Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker are not of the finest quality, and he may need glasses. This is a very real possibility of course, but given the context we can assume that Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker was actually squinting because of the feelings of anger that he was feeling - we can deduce this because when you take the eyebrows into account (and the fact that they used to be positioned in a frown, as mentioned earlier) it makes sense. I've forgotten what the purpose of this paragraph even was so it's time to move on.

Oh wait I remembered. The broom fell down and caused Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker to be surprised. This interrupts him from beginning his speech. It takes Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker quite some time to recover from this. I wouldn't personally say it takes him an amount of time that you could label as absurd, he takes just about the normal amount of time you would expect someone to take to get over unexpectedly hearing the sound of a broom crashing to the floor. All the usual thoughts buzz around the head of Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker when he hears this unexpected sound. "What was that?" "What could have caused that to happen?" "Am I currently in imminent danger?" "How best should I deal with the situation should I happen to currently be in danger?" Once Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker realises that there is no threat of danger, and the unexpected noise was in fact nothing more than a simple broom, he decides that it is time to move on from the event entirely, and go back to what he was doing before the sound happened. This was, as we know, speaking.

Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker opens his mouth. He is ready to say his piece. The fans in attendance watch on and wait to hear what Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker has to say. After all, this is a Pay-Per-View event. Everyone in attendance has obviously paid for their ticket to the show, unless there are some people in the crowd who have managed to sneak in somehow (very unlikely because the security is very good) or they stole a ticket (this is also unlikely because they check your ID as you walk in to the arena), so yes, everyone more than likely has paid for their ticket. This is not the thing that is out of the ordinary though. The thing that is out of the ordinary is that everyone watching around the home on their television sets have also paid to watch this show. That is except for those that choose to illegally watch a live stream of the show, they are the only ones who are watching this moment for free. Due to the fact that mostly everyone has paid to watch this, then, we can assume that there is a strong interest in the product. Why would you pay to watch something you have no interest in. Everyone is ready to hear what Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker has to say, and he's about to say it alright.

Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker tenses his lips which are now separated to allow for his words to come out. We can see the air necessary to produce words shooting up his throat.

Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker
I'm gonna beat the fuck out of the NWO to be honest.






The crowd boo, as with huge, cocky grins on their faces, Kevin Nash and Scott Hall strut out from behind the curtain. A tattered looking Justin Roberts slowly ambles out behind them, and the pair yell at him, before Nash shoves a microphone into his chest.

Justin Roberts: The following is a Tornado Tag Match! Coming in first, your winners, the NEW WORLD ORDER!

J.R.: I'm hoping to see these two get put in their place tonight!

Tazz: You should pay a bit more respect to these two veterans J.R.!

The pair laugh to themselves, as they move down the ramp, pettily knocking drinks out of fans hands, and trying to snatch their signs away from them that support any wrestlers that aren't them.



The crowd give a warm reaction, as Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker, looking both incredibly intense and nonchalant at the same time, steps out onto the stage. A microphone in hand. He puts it to his lips.

DANGERMAN TAEKWONDO SUPERKICKER
NWO! I have found my partner.

He whips his Nunchucks out of his trousers, and starts to flip them around his head with precise skill.

Tony Chimel: And their opponents, from The Dragon Temple, Corby, UK, the Martial Arts Master... DANGERMAN TAEKWONDO SUPERKICKER!... and his tag team partner... his Nunchucks?

J.R.: So his Nunchucks are his tag partner?

Tazz: I guess so. I mean, it's a Tornado Tag match so it works.

for well over a minute, before eventually slotting them back into his trousers. He starts to make his way down to the ring. Once there, he slides under the bottom rope, and immediately Nash and Hall both attack him, stomping on him straight away!

J.R.: Aww c'mon!

Dangerman fights through the stomps, before swishing his Nunchucks through the air, and catching Hall in the mouth! As Scott stumbles backwards, Nash is left on his own, as Dangerman clatters the Nunchucks across his ribs! Nash keels over, before rushing over to his friend's side, as Dangerman continues to twirl the Nunchucks around his head.

The bell rings.

Nash and Hall look hesitant to approach Dangerman, as he continues to flip his Nunchucks around his head. He beckons for the pair to approach him, and the two whisper to one another for a moment, before they both nod at one another, and then charge! They go for a double clothesline, but Superkicker ducks it, before twisting around, and unloading into them with his Nunchucks!

SLAM! Across Hall's chest! CRACK! Into Nash's nose! WHAM! Over Hall's knee! PLONK! On top of Nash's head! SPLAP! Into Hall's foot, tripping him to the floor! Nash tries to go for a right hook across Dangerman's face, but he ducks it, before delivering a massive roundhouse kick across his face, sending him falling back into the corner!

Tazz: Thanks to his Nunchucks, Dangerman seems to have the advantage here!

Hall tries to get to his feet, but Dangerman nails him across the cheek with a Spinning Backfist, sending him careening over his own feet, before he lands into the turnbuckle on the other side of the ring! Dangerman runs after him, before landing into him with a huge corner splash!

Nash starts to recuperate in his own corner, before Dangerman charges at him, and shuts him down with another corner splash! He runs at Hall again! A third Corner Splash! Then, he turns back towards Nash... he charges...

But a Big Boot puts him on the mat!

J.R.: And Nash brings things back into the nWo's favour!

Nash ambles out of the corner, watching as Hall starts to recuperate. He shouts over at his partner, before pointing down at Dangerman. He lifts the Martial Arts Master to his feet, before pinning his head between his legs, and setting up for a Jacknife...

But the Superkicker slips out of it! Nash tries to control the situation, but Dangerman flips the Nunchucks up, right into Nash's balls! Nash roars in pain, as he falls backwards into the ropes, clutching his crotch! In Hall's momentary distraction, Superkicker twists around, and hurtles his Nunchucks through the air, where they crash into Hall's face, causing him to plunge to the mat!

Dangerman charges at the disorienated Nash, before clotheslining him straight over the top rope and out of the ring! He then turns to his other opponent, Hall, who squirms around on the mat. He approaches him, but before he gets there, Hall picks up the Nunchucks from the mat, and starts swinging them violently at Dangerman, who dodges out of the way.

J.R.: He's not allowed to do that! They aren't his tag team partner!

Tazz: That sentence made me really wonder, what the shit are we watching?

The referee runs over, and starts yelling at Hall, telling him to drop the Nunchucks. Using the distraction to his advantage, Hall throws a kick up into Dangerman's gut! Throwing the Nunchucks to one side, Hall grabs Dangerman around the head, and plants him down harshly to the mat with a DDT! He then charges at the ropes, bounds back, and plants himself down on the Martial Arts Master with a BIG SPLASH!

He hooks his leg...

1...


2...



KICKOUT!

Hall becomes incredibly angry, as he wrenches Dangerman back up to his feet, and slams an elbow across his face, before keeling him over with a knee to the stomach! He puts Dangerman's head under his legs... and gets ready for the Razor's Edge...

J.R.: It could be over if he hits this!

BACK BODY DROP! Dangerman throws Hall over his head, where he lands back first to the mat! Dangerman moves over to the corner, where he gets ready for Hall to get back to his feet, so he can hit him with that dreaded Superkick of his...

But he's grabbed from behind on the apron! It's Nash! He wrestles with Dangerman, trying to grind his face on the top rope, but Dangerman starts to fight back! Hall is up now, and sees his opportunity to attack Dangerman! He charges...

But Dangerman moves! Hall crashes into Nash, knocking him off of the apron and back to the concrete below! Hall turns back around...

SUPERKICK!

J.R.: The Dangerman Taekwondo Superkick! It's gotta be over!

Hall crashes backwards to the mat, before Dangerman dives on top of him for the pin...

1...




2...





...3!

Dangerman Taekwondo Superkicker and his Nunchucks defeats the nWo in 8:15

Tony Chimel: And your winners... DANGERMAN TAEKWONDO SUPERKICKER... AND HIS NUNCHUCKS!

The crowd cheer as Dangerman slowly climbs to his feet, above the fallen Scott Hall. He moves over to his Nunchucks, picks them up, and then starts to flip them around his head once more, his face absolutley expressionless. Hall rolls out of the ring, joining his partner Nash, who both angrily watch as Dangerman continues to flip around his Nunchucks. It goes on so long, that the scene has to fade to black before he's even done.

May 21th, 2017
Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania


Said lettering shows on screen. Kurt Angle is sitting at a restaurant table, wearing a black suit with a white polo shirt. Eating some pot roast, he peers through his black sunglasses to the other end of the small squared table. The camera shows his lunch companion: the RPW Extreme Championship.

Kurt Angle
Me and you, buddy. We're going to achieve great things together.

He pauses to take a bite of his food, then resumes speaking to the title belt.

Kurt Angle
This past month or so has been one of the most successful of my recent career, as you know. Tonight in our home state, we'll be making our second successful defence of our status.

He wipes his mouth and notices people seem to be glaring at him from their tables.

Kurt Angle
What?

Everyone looks away.

Kurt Angle
What the heck are you all looking at? I'll freakin' put my title on the line against any of you, dammit!

Everyone tries their best to ignore the situation as Kurt stays in silence, staring at them. He then goes back to eating and talking to, virtually, himself.

Kurt Angle
You do know you're the reason I'm champion, right?

Angle smiles as he continues eating.

Kurt Angle
Of course. Of course you do.

Kurt laughs a little to himself.

Kurt Angle
Alright, talk soon, bye.

Angle disconnects his bluetooth headset, thus revealing he was actually on his phone the whole time. People seem surprised and, yet again, they stare at him. Angle seems mad.

Kurt Angle
What!? Did you idiots think I was freaking talking to myself or something?

Angle shakes his head and gets up. He throws some money on the table and grabs his title belt.

Kurt Angle
Freaks.

He stops before the door and looks at the belt.

Kurt Angle
Let's blow this joint, baby.

Angle walks out and paces away.

A few hours later...

Stevie Richards approaches Kurt Angle as he enters the arena, rolling his suitcase behind him.

Stevie Richards
Hi, Kurt.

Kurt stops and looks at Richards, wondering what he wants.

Stevie Richards
So I read in the news you were talking to yourself in public.

Kurt Angle
I got hacked.

Angle doesn't even pay any more thought to Stevie and just keeps blazing his trail down the corridor. Big Stevie Cool follows him, however, in one of his desperate attempts to make friends.

Stevie Richards
You feeling confident for tonight? You're gonna need that.

Kurt stops right in his tracks and glances at Richards.

Kurt Angle
What did you just say?

Angle whips out his sunglasses and cuts off Stevie before he even speaks.

Kurt Angle
I'm gonna need confidence?... Lemme just tell you a few things I actually need, boyo.

Kurt lets go of his suitcase and looks Stevie right in the eye, intensely, adjusting the title on his shoulder.

Kurt Angle
I need gold. This gold, to be precise. Mainly because this championship already is more prestigious than the so-called "main event level" RPW Championship. For one, because I was its first and only holder; and secondly because I leave my heart and soul in the ring every freakin' time I go out there, something wannabes like Dean Ambrose and Howell Saxon not only don't do, but also have no freakin' idea how to do. Truth.

Richards goes to apologize but the Olympic Gold Medallist cuts in again.

Kurt Angle
I need revenge. I'm not one to hold grudges much, as you know, and I am now and have always been in this sport because I'm a legitimate athlete and an actual real hard-working sportsman. Sure, we all know I'm light-humoured and I love enjoying myself and indulging myself as much as the next guy - unless the next guy is Chris Jericho. Seriously, he's a freakin' party animal. Tonight it's different, though. Not only has Dean Ambrose underhandedly assaulted me and used cheap tricks to tip the scale in his favour, but also he's gunning for my most prized possession. You can poke fun at me all you want and we'll settle our differences in a wrestling ring, but when you target things or people that I love and value, then it's personal. Dean Ambrose made this personal. When I go out there, now, I'm not just gonna beat him and defend MY Extreme Championship. As a not very wise man once completely refused to say when gay sexting, I'm gonna pound the shit out of him. Oh, it's true.

Some fans laugh in the background.

Kurt Angle
I need respect. Not just for myself but for this company, what this company represents in the business, and in turn what its title belts represent in itself. Dean Ambrose has none. He has no will to show any or actually any freaking ability to. Just as he has no freaking ability how to perform in a wrestling ring and give the fans what they pay for. He walks out and throws random punches and kicks like a little kid whose parents you just insulted for getting divorced and giving him to an aunt because they didn't like him as much as the dog. It's true.

Fans laugh in the background again.

Kurt Angle
I need wrestling, a lesson in which I'm gonna teach a certain spot monkey tonight. It's damn true.

Kurt gets really close to Richards now, and speaks more quietly than usual:

Kurt Angle
Most of all...I need some freakin' peace and quiet, especially from no-good lowlives like you. Now get out of my freakin' way before I snap both your ankles for sport. And you know I can.

Richards bolts out of there, and a confident grin appears in Angle's face. He taps his title belt's face, puts his sunglasses back on, and makes his way to his assigned locker room.






The crowd boo, as the arena lights flash black and white, almost like static, in anticipation for the Lunatic Fringe, Dean Ambrose. He bursts out from behind the curtain to a chorus of boos, but he seems not to care, a rather large and joyous grin on his face, as he holds a steel chair in his hands. He lifts the chair above his head, before smacking it down on the stage a few times, causing a loud din to ring through the air.

Tony Chimel: The following is an Extreme Rules match for the RPW Extreme Championship! Coming in first, from Cincinatti Ohio, the Lunatic Fringe, The Master of Weapons... DEAN AMBROSE!

J.R.: Ambrose tells Angle that he will force him to use a weapon tonight in this match! He seems more hell bent on getting that to happen, than actually winning!

Tazz: You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain...

J.R.: You're really stretching to try and make that work Tazz.

Ambrose laughs as he moves down the ramp, swinging the steel chair around like a windmill above his head. Once by ringside, he rolls into the ring, before moving to the closest turnbuckle, climbing it, and raising the chair once again. The audience boo once more, but Ambrose only laughs, before he climbs back down.

J.R.: And it was Ambrose who made this an Extreme Rules match too!

Tazz: That's right, he really swung things in his favour.

Ambrose unfolds the chair, places it down in his corner, and then sits on the chair. He faces the stage, and beckons for his next opponent to come forward.



The Pensylvania crowd explode into cheers for the man from their own state, Kurt Angle! Through the red, white, and blue lights, Kurt Angle hops onto the stage, bouncing up and down on the spot, RPW Extreme Championship wrapped around his waist. To the chorus of endearing 'YOU SUCK' chants, Angle hops into the middle of the stage, before lifting both of his arms in the air, as white pyro explodes into the sky from the stage.

Tony Chimel: And his opponent, from MT. LEBANON, PENNSYLVANIA! He is the RPW Extreme Champion... the Olympian, the Gold Medalist... KURT ANGLE!

J.R.: This event tonight is in his home state, and Angle is basking in that fact!

Angle makes his way down to the ring, a face of pure intensity, as he snarls at his opponent Dean Ambrose. He jogs up the steel steps, before quickly making his way into the ring. He glares at Ambrose for a moment, before turning to the crowd and raising his arms once more, before hopping in a circle on the spot, much to their delight.

Tazz: It'll surprise me to see Angle walking out of this arena tonight without than Extreme Championship belt around his waist J.R.

J.R.: You say that Tazz, but when you're up against a Lunatic like Ambrose, who knows what can happen!

Once he's done with showboating, Angle unfastens the championship belt from around his waist, and hands it to the referee. The referee raises it above his head, showing each side of the crowd, before handing it to the time keeper to place at ringside. Angle readies up in the corner, whilst Ambrose stays sat down on his steel chair, still grinning at his opponent.

The bell rings.

And Angle charges! Ambrose is to his feet immediately, clutching the chair leg, and swinging the whole thing, still unfolded, at Angle's head! But Angle ducks, and spears Ambrose right into the turnbuckle! Ambrose stumbles out from the turnbuckle, but Angle doesn't allow him to remain on his feet for long! He locks up Ambrose from behind, spins him around, and plants him down in the middle of the ring with a German Suplex!

Tazz: Bring on them suplexes baby!

Ambrose bounces right up onto his knees, where he comes face to face with Angle, who is on his own knees, glaring at him. Ambrose laughs right in his face, before lifting up a hook right across Angle's jaw! Angle returns one! Prompting Ambrose to deliver another! The pair exchange hooks back and forth, before Ambrose wills himself to his feet, and lands a dropkick into Angle's chest!

Angle rolls into the turnbuckle, whilst Ambrose moves over and picks up the steel chair! He charges at Angle and swings it at him, but the Olympian rolls out of the way, and the steel chair connects with the top turnbuckle instead! Angle comes up behind Ambrose, disarming him by getting him in a nasty arm lock, before rolling him over onto the mat, and turning it into an armbar!

Tazz: BRING ON THEM SUBMISSIONS BABY!

J.R.: Tazz will you calm down.

Ambrose grits his teeth through the pain, trying not to tap out to the move, until he sees next to him is the steel chair! He picks it up, and jams the end of it into Angle's nose, prompting him to let go! With Ambrose free, he gets to his feet, lifts the chair above his head, and slams it down hard on Angle's arm! Angle roars in pain, as Ambrose lifts the chair again, going for another strike, but Angle lifts up his foot to defend himself! The chair bounces nastily off of the sole of his foot, but Angle pushes through the pain to drop Ambrose to the mat with a drop toe hold!

J.R.: Angle only barely escaping the onslaught from that steel chair!

Angle tries to follow up on it, but thanks to the chair shots, moves much slower, allowing Ambrose to roll out of the way before Angle can capitalise. Angle tries to follow Ambrose, but before he can catch him, the younger man has made his way out of the ring. The Lunatic moves over to the apron, reaches under it, and slowly pulls out, much to the fans delight, a table!

J.R.: He's got wood!

Tazz: He's not the only one J.R.!

J.R.: Gotta say it Tazz, I really do hate working with you.

Angle watches as Ambrose gleefully sets up the table on the outside of the ring. Once it's set up, Ambrose turns around, to find that his opponent is still in the ring and still hasn't moved. Ambrose knows that Angle wants him in his own habitat, inside the ropes. Ambrose laughs, before reaching under the apron another time, and pulling out a garbage can, but one filled to the brim with weapons!

Ambrose gleefully pulls out a Singapore Cane from the can, before moving up the steel steps, and standing on the apron, holding it above his head as he looks at Angle. Ambrose starts to climb into the ring, and this is when Angle decides to strike! He charges at Ambrose, locking up his arm, and yanking him into the ring with an arm-lock! But Ambrose has the Singapore Cane in his other hand, and starts swinging it at the Olympian!

Angle grits his teeth through the pain of the Cane crashing against his side, putting more and more pressure on the arm-lock! Ambrose tries to think for an idea through the pain he's going through, and so lifts the end of the Singapore Cane to Angle's throat, before using it to jab at his adam's apple! Angle lets go, clutching his throat, until Ambrose smashes the Singapore Cane over his back!

J.R.: Oh GAWD! The sound of that!

Tazz: It's brutal! And this is what'll give Ambrose the edge in this match!

Angle drops to his knees, before Ambrose swings the Cane through the air, and clatters it over the side of Angle's head! Angle crashes to the mat, as Ambrose jumps on top of him for the pin...

J.R.: First pinfall of the match!

Tazz: That's because this has been more of a brawl J.R.!

1...

2..

KICKOUT!

Angrily, Ambrose gets to his feet, lifts up the Singapore Cane, and brings it down on Angle over and over! Angle roars in pain, as he tries fighting through the Cane hits, but they are too overwhelming, and he can do nothing as Ambrose brings the shots down on him over and over. Once done, Ambrose is breathing heavily, before a grin emerges on his face as he watches Angle still stir. He drops the Singapore Cane in front of his nose, right in Angle's reach.

Ambrose ushers for Angle to pick up the Cane, and to use it on him. Angle looks up from the Cane right in front of his face, and up at the smiling Ambrose, before he bats the Cane out of the ring! Ambrose becomes infuriated, hurtling a kick into the face of Angle, before climbing back out of the ring.

J.R.: What's he doing now?

Ambrose grabs the entire trash can, filled with the weapons, and re-enters the ring with it. He places it in one of the corners, before reaching into it again, and pulling out a light tube! Angle slowly pulls himself to his feet using the turnbuckle in the opposite corner, as Ambrose waits for him behind, light tube at the ready, preparing to swing it at his opponents face! Angle is up... he turns around... AMBROSE SWINGS THE LIGHT TUBE!

BUT ANGLE DUCKS! Ambrose turns around, and Angle throws a kick at his gut! But Ambrose catches that! Angle stands on one leg, his other foot in Ambrose's hand, as Ambrose holds the light tube above his head! He looks ready to crash it down on his opponent, before instead, he tosses it to Angle, who catches it. Still holding Angle's foot, Ambrose points at his own head, urging Angle to shatter the light tube over it...

J.R.: Will he do it?!

Tazz: No... Angle, come on man! Don't!

Angle looks at the light tube... then at Ambrose...




ENZIGUIRI! Ambrose collapses to the mat as Angle brings his other foot across his face, before Angle tosses the light tube outside of the ring, where it shatters across the concrete! Ambrose is back up, and runs at Angle, but the Olympian catches him, lifts him up, and slams him down across his knee with a TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER!

Ambrose crumples to the mat, as Angle moves over to the turnbuckle, and starts to climb! He turns around on the top rope, so he's facing the Lunatic, who begins to get to his feet... Angle leaps... MISSILE DROPKICK! Ambrose collides with the trash can he set up in the corner, causing it to spill over onto his head!

Tazz: Oof!

Angle moves straight over to him, before grabbing Ambrose by the ankle, and attempting to pull him into the middle of the ring for the Ankle Lock! But Ambrose grabs the first weapon he can get his hands on, a lead pipe, and starts swinging it at Angle, causing the Olympian to let go of the attempted submission!

Ambrose is to his feet, swinging the pipe at Angle, who is able to dodge every strike! After ducking an attempted shot at his head, Angle ducks down, clutches Ambrose around the stomach, and throws him clear over his head, over the top rope, and onto the apron! Ambrose hangs on to the top rope with his free hand, dangling precariously over the table he has set up on the outside!

J.R.: Ambrose nearly going through that table there!

Tazz: Almost!

Ambrose turns around, and sees Angle charging at him! SHOULDER BLOCK! NO! Ambrose lifts the lead pipe up, and Angle smashes into it face first! He stumbles backwards, before falling to the mat! Ambrose sees his opportunity, and dropping the lead pipe, runs at the turnbuckle, and starts to climb...

Ambrose readies himself on the top rope... but Angle's back to his feet! He charges at the turnbuckle, and starts to climb it too, throwing a headbutt into the Lunatic's stomach in order to wind him! Ambrose tries to fight back, but Angle locks his arms around Ambrose's stomach, and lifts him up... Angle turns the pair of them around though, so they're facing the outside...



BELLY TO BELLY SLAM! RIGHT TO THE OUTSIDE! RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! THROUGH THE TABLE! BOTH MEN THROUGH THE TABLE!

Tazz: HOLY SHIT!

Both men lay amidst the wooden debris, almost unconcious, as the crowd are beside themselves with excitement. The two men lay there, unable to move, for almost a minute, before Angle begins to stir. The Olympian slowly pulls himself to his feet using the apron, clearly barely able to stand, as he turns around to see his opponent continues to lay on the concrete. Angle grabs him by the head, and tosses him under the bottom rope, back into the ring.

J.R.: How can they even stand!?

With Ambrose still unable to stand in the ring, Angle uses the time to regain some of his senses, before slowly rolling under the bottom rope in order to continue the match. Ambrose however, has regained some of his movements, and slowly crawls over to the pile of weapons that lay next to the trash can. Angle spots this, and moves over as quickly as he can to halt the process, but it's too late! Angle grabs a baseball bat, the end wrapped in barbed wire, and jams the barbed wire wrapped end into the Olympian's stomach, keeling him over!

Ambrose clambers to his feet, as Angle holds his wounded stomach! The Lunatic grins, as he points the end of his barbed wire baseball bat at Angle's head, measuring exactly where he's going to hit him, before he lifts the bat above his head, ready to fire down with one final hit...

J.R.: This could be it... it could be all over if he hits this...






BUT ANGLE GRABS AMBROSE'S LEG! HE TAKES HIM DOWN TO THE MAT!

The barbed wire bat flies out of Ambrose's grasp, all way out of the ring! Ambrose tries grabbing another weapon, but Angle pulls him into the middle of the ring, where he can't reach for any of them! Angle moves his arms up, and locks them around Ambrose's ankle!

ANKLE LOCK! IT'S LOCKED IN! ANGLE HAS THE ANKLE LOCK LOCKED IN!

J.R.: Ankle Lock! He's got him locked in!

Ambrose roars in pain as he tries to reach for the weapons, but they're too far away now, Angle having brought him all the way over to the other side of the ring! Ambrose turns his head, and sees that right next to him, are the ropes! He grins with relief, before reaching out, and grabbing the bottom rope!


...


'NO ROPE BREAK YA' FRICKEN' IDIOT!' yells Angle at his opponent! And he's right! Ambrose realises all too late that in an Extreme Rules match... there's no disqualification! Ambrose lets out another roar in pain as he lets go of the bottom rope, before looking around the ring for anywhere else to go! There's nothing he can do! Angle applies more pressure to the Ankle Lock...








AND AMBROSE TAPS OUT!

Kurt Angle defeats Dean Amborse in 22:48

J.R.: And ANGLE'S DONE IT!

Tony Chimel: And your winner... and STILL RPW Extreme Champion... KURT ANGLE!

Angle lets go of the hold, and clutching his ankle, Ambrose rolls under the bottom rope and falls out of the ring, wailing in pain. The crowd are ecstatic for Angle winning, and give another cheer as the referee raises his hand, and passes to him the RPW Extreme Championship belt.

Angle raises it high above his head, before jumping onto the nearest turnbuckle, and doing the same again. Whilst on the turnbuckle, he places the belt back around his waist, fastening it, and then yelling 'It's staying right round this waist baby! It aint going anywhere!' causing the crowd to give more cheers and whoops. The scene fades out.


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Re: LOCKED & LOADED 2017

Post by Tony Atlas on Mon May 22, 2017 7:12 pm


The titantron lights up, revealing a room full of punching bags hanging from the ceiling. Standing tall in the middle of the room, back straight, arms folded and arrogant smirk on his face, is Howell Saxon. As the camera zooms in closer, we catch glimpses of the punching bags and see that Howell has stuck a printout of Kevin Owens’ face on every single one of them.

Finally, the camera reaches Howell, his head and shoulders filling the frame. He stares down the lens and his grin widens.

Howell Saxon
Owens, I cannot wait to put you in your place tonight.

Howell unfolds his arms and swaggers out of frame. The camera moves to catch up with him as he moves between the dangling punching bags, studying them like a tiger stalking its prey. He looks over his shoulder to address the camera again.

Howell Saxon
You know, I would’ve thought you’d get the message pretty quickly that I’m not to be messed with. Between winning the RPW World Champion title over Stevens, putting Sydal in his place and beating the shit out of you and Jericho during your highlight reel, I really thought you’d take the hint. But no. You keep antagonising me. Ganging up on me. Trying to humiliate me. Well, you know what, Owens?

Howell stops, and turns around to face the camera head on. It tracks out to show the four punching bags currently surrounding him – one to his left, one to his right, and two behind.

Howell Saxon
You can keep trying if you want, but it’s not going to work.

Howell turns fast to face the punching bag to his left. Directing his blows directly onto the printout of Owens’ face, he lands two powerful punches and the punching bag falls off its chain, tumbling to the floor. He turns to his right and does the same again. He leaps into the air and swings his leg round in a reverse turning kick, the momentum of the blow immediately taking out both bags behind him. Howell lands smoothly, straightens up and marches over to the camera, his face now intense.

Howell Saxon
You hear me? What you’re watching now is as gimmicky as I’ll ever get! Because, as I’ve made abundantly clear, I don’t care about theatrics. I don’t care about being liked! I don’t care about the behind the scenes drama, like your oh so precious friendship with little Jericho… all that matters to me is that the man with the most skill win the fight. And that’s going to be me.

Howell crouches, then leaps out of frame. The camera jerks to the side to follow him, just in time to catch him slam down on another punching bag, knocking it to the floor with a flying punch. He’s back on his feet quickly, and stares the camera down once more.

Howell Saxon
No games, Owens. No gimmicks. No clowns, no skits, none of your childish bullshit. Tonight, it comes down to pure talent and training. Two men in a battle for the RPW World Championship title. And believe me, I don’t plan to lose it anytime soon. For your sake, Owens, I hope they’ve got an ambulance or two parked outside.

With a final cocky grin, Howell marches out of frame, leaving the camera to scan over the fallen punching bags. The titantron fades to black.




The lights throughout the arena fade down until only the stage is illuminated by the light emanating off the static titantron above it. Before anyone knows it, the titantron fades into the image of a pig's head. No blood, just a pale decapitated pig's head. The image remains there for a moment before disappearing to black, leaving a confused silence from the crowd as they are plunged back into darkness. This lasts for a few seconds before a familiar voice fills the darkness.

Nero
Pennsylvania...The Mohegan Sun Arena....

A few quiet cheers are heard, only due to the venue having been named.

Nero
When we were young... We were told of a story... A story of three innocent piglets and one Big, Bad Wolf.

The spotlight shines down to reveal Nero sitting on the stage, microphone in hand.

Nero
This story has been subject to many changes, interpretations and moral understandings throughout its history...

Hardy steadily rises to his feet, still grasping his microphone tightly.

Nero
The piglets are replaced by lambs, the houses are made of a variety of materials, sometimes the piglets escape,
other times they are slaughtered.


He takes a few long, slow steps down the ramp, his white contacts hiding his subtle eye movements as he glances to the crowd.

Nero
The one constant, the one that is ever present, is that Big, Bad Wolf.

Nero nears the ring steps and glances around once more before stepping up towards the apron.

Nero
I am the constant. I am the Big Bad Wolf. I am Nero.

The man enters the ring through between the ropes and makes his way to the centre of the ring, which now has a small white sheet over the small area.

Nero
This time, the Big Bad Wolf is here...

Nero stares directly into the hard-cam before removing a small red capsule from his pants and placing it into his open mouth.

Nero
And Rump... This time, I'm here for blood.

Nero bites down on the capsule, causing a thick red liquid to pour from his lips, seemingly more than the capsule had held. He continues to stare into the hard-cam as the fake blood drips from his now-scarlet chest, onto the small white sheet. He smiles through his bright red teeth as the lights suddenly plunge the entire arena into darkness once more, before steadily returning to normal, with the sheet now removed and Nero standing in his corner.



The crowd give a warm response, as Captain Rump bounds out onto the now bright orange lit stage, shaking his booty, and slapping it a few times to the laughter of the crowd. A group of young fans in the front row cheer for him, all wearing Captain Rump masks, and he makes sure to high five them all as he passes by.

Tony Chimel: The following is a one on one match, entering first, from Cameron, North Carolina, the Anti-Christ... NERO! And his opponent, from Los Angeles, California, the World's Largest Luchador... CAPTAIN RUMP!

Rump climbs up onto the apron, smacking his ass a few more times, before making his way into the ring. He climbs the turnbuckle and raises his arms, some cheers thrown his way, before he climbs back down and moves over to Nero. He offers to shake his hand, but Nero only snarls at him, causing Rump to back away into his corner.

The bell rings.

Nero begins to quickly move around the ring, the slower Captain Rump trying to keep up from the center of the ring. As Rump gets close enough, he attempts to get a hold of Nero, but the attempt is ducked under. When Rump turns around, he’s met with a kick to gut. Nero takes to the ropes and on the comeback, Rump attempts for a clothesline, that is again, ducked under. Nero doesn’t wait for Rump to turn back around this time, and instead lays a dropkick to the middle of Rump’s back, sending him into the ropes.

Tazz: Another speed versus power match!

J.R.: A lot less respect this time round though!

Rump leans against the ropes and Nero charges in, attempting what looks like a body splash. It is telegraphed, however, when Rump is able to get his body under Nero’s, and push him up and over for a back body drop. Nero hangs onto the ropes, however, and pulls himself onto the apron. The moment Rump turns and realizes is a moment too late, as Nero lays a shoulder block into the solar plexus between the top and middle ropes. With Rump hunched over, he goes for a sunset flip. The man proves much too large for the eighteen-year veteran to pull down, and Nero soon instead finds himself at risk of a very large buttocks slamming down against his chest. As Captain Rump attempts this, however, Nero moves out of the way.

Rump rolls out of the ring following his failed maneuver, his hand cupping his own ass. Nero bounces off of the ropes and attempts a baseball slide, but the luchador has the wherewithal to side step out of the way. With Nero’s legs there, Rump thinks quickly and without remorse, uses his strength to pull Nero out of the ring and to land with an unforgiving thud against the thin outside padding. Nero’s body tenses in pain.

J.R.: Oh god, that's gotta hurt!

Tazz: It's not gonna tickle!

Rump steps back and then with a run, comes down on Jeff with a “jumping” elbow drop. It takes a bit for him to get back up after that. However, once he does, he pulls up Jeff and drags him toward the announce table. Once there, he holds Nero up above his head in a military press, and then drops him so that Nero lands unceremoniously face first onto the table. Rump pulls Nero up, and then Irish whips him into the barricade, the smaller man’s body curling up into a near lifeless pile afterwards.

The referee comes out of the ring to urge Rump to return the action to the ring before the count out. Rump complies and forces Nero’s spaghetti-like body into the ring. Rump rolls in, and with the referee still making his way back into the ring, Jeff picks his spot and low blows Rump. Nero stands, albeit groggily, and dropkicks Rump squarely in the jaw, sending him to the mat.

He covers him...

J.R.: He could have him here!

1...

2..

Kickout!

Nero waits as Rumps pull himself up, and then attempts a gut kick. It’s caught however, but Jeff acts quickly and hits one of his signature mule kicks. It sends Rump to the ropes. As he slowly rebounds off of them, Nero takes to the opposite set and charges. Rump thinks quickly and simply opens his large frame up and takes Nero down with his fatness. With his opponent in the center of the ring, Rump “runs” to the ropes and returns, with a huge BODY SPLASH!

He covers him...

Tazz: No way he's kicking out after all that weight is dropped on him!

1...


2...


Kickout!

J.R.: He does!

Rump wastes no time in getting Nero sat into the corner. He seems to want to end this, and steps back. He runs and turns his ass to Nero. However, Jeff is able to stop the signature with a double kick to Rump's backside. From there, Jeff runs, leaps into the air, and drives an elbow down into the side of Rump's head. Rump clutches where the elbow hit, but isn't prepared for a kick to the gut. Rump, holding his stomach, slowly moves into the middle of the ring. Nero follows, grabs his head... locks him up....

TWIST OF HATE!

J.R.: TWIST OF HATE!

Tazz: This could be it!

Rump flops onto his back, as Nero hooks his leg...

1...



2...




...3!

Nero defeats Captain Rump in 10:08

Tony Chimel: And your winner... NERO!

Nero raises himself to his feet, a scowl on his face, almost as though he hadn't just won the match. He looks down at Rump, who still lays on the mat, before grimacing. The referee attempts to raise Nero's arm, but he pulls away from the referee, before scowling at him, causing the referee to back away. Nero instead exits the ring, and starts walking back up the ramp, as the scene fades out.



J.R.: We have had an amazing show so far ladies and gentlemen, but it is now time for our main event. Kevin Owens challenges Howell Saxon for the RPW World Championship!

Tazz: Our cameras caught up with Kevin Owens earlier today!

The camera cuts to footage from earlier in the day.

Kevin is walking the arena, wearing a gray suit and wheeling a small suitcase behind him. A camera runs up to him and gets into his face.

Cameraman:
Kevin! Kevin! Do you have any to say regarding what happened on the highlight reel?


Kevin stops in tracks and looks into the camera. His face is covered in healing lacerations from being thrown into the Jeritron. He shakes his head and keeps walking.  The cameraman continues to follow him.

Cameraman:
Kevin, do you think the attack last week will affect your chances tonight?

Kevin starts walking faster to the arena. The camera is now trying to catch up with him.

Cameraman:
Kevin, reports came in that Chris Jericho is in the hospital in critical condition. Do you think this could be the end of his career?

Kevin does a sudden turn which makes the cameraman bump into him. The cameraman collects himself as a very angry Kevin Owens faces him.

Kevin Owens:
Have you ever had to see your best friend in critical condition? Have you ever have to hold his hand and assure him that everything will be ok when you damn well know it won’t be? Well I have and it puts a lot of things into perspective and really makes you think. When someone else is in this situation, they just have to keep their head held high and try not to worry. That’s not the situation I’m in though, I have an opportunity. I have the opportunity to face the man that did this to my best friend. That is power that not many people in my position have and I will take full advantage of that.

Kevin puts face closer to the camera.

Kevin Owens:
Chris Jericho was one of, if not the greatest that this sport has ever seen. He has done more in this industry than almost anyone else and you tried to take that away for no reason. You were that paranoid, that afraid of our friendship that you took out my best friend. If you thought the odds weren’t even when there was two of us, you’ll hate your chances now. What you did was given me reason to beat you. Before, Chris and I were just having fun. We were messing with you, having the time of our lives and it didn’t really matter what the outcome of the match was. Chris was having the time of his career and we were just along for the ride.

Kevin steps away from the camera and tries to compose himself.

Kevin Owens:
But now? Now I’m going to hurt you. I have never been in the business to hurt people. I’ve been here for the money and to provide for my family, but I am going to enjoy hurting you. I will enjoy every punch that will land on your face. I will enjoy every senton that I hurl at you. I will enjoy knocking the life out of you with power-bomb after power-bomb after power-bomb. I will fight the referee if they try to stop me from getting to you. A picture of you sitting in a pool of your own blood in the middle of the ring will be hanging on the wall in my house. I am making it my personal mission to destroy you and make sure that you never be the same again.

Kevin sits down on his suitcase and waves the cameraman to come over.

Kevin Owens:
You like to think yourself as the bad guy around here. The ultimate evil. You walk around and talk like you're this unbeatable sanctimonious villain champion, glorifying your dirty victories like they don't make you look like a little bitch. You like to revise history to make yourself seem like this dominating champion. All you’ve done is beat up some unsuspecting people who weren’t prepared to fight. You won’t have that luxury tonight. You have never had a one on one match with someone like me before. I’m not saying someone who has been wrestling as long or someone who has had as many championships as I’ve had. I’m talking about someone who wants to hurt you as bad as I do. Someone who will do anything to make sure you don’t exit the arena in anything less than a ambulance.

Kevin stands up again and grabs the camera. He puts it right up to his face.

Kevin Owens:
One thing is for sure, this isn’t about the title anymore. It’s about me returning the favor for what you did to Chris. Hell hath no fury like a best friend scorned.


We return to ringside, just in time for Kevin's theme to hit.



J.R.: And here we are Tazz, our main event!

Tazz: Oh boy... the tensions are high for this one!

A gigantic pop greets Kevin Owens, who blasts straight out from behind the curtain, looking absolutely furious, the colour of his face almost matching the bright red of his minitron. He roars from the top of the stage 'This is for you Chris!' before making his way down the ramp, and towards the ring.

Tony Chimel: The following is a one on one contest, and it is for the RPW World Championship! Coming in first, the challenger, from Marieville, Quebec, Canada, the Prizefighter... KO... KEVIN OWENS!

Tazz: Owens looks like he may murder anything that steps in his way!

J.R.: Well that 'thing' will be Howell Saxon Tazz, and I have no doubts Owens will rip him in half!

The crowd are heavily in support of Owens tonight, many of them wearing his or Jericho's shirts and merch, as well as holding up many signs that support him. Kevin looks not to even notice, so hell bent on getting revenge on his opponent tonight. He rolls straight into the ring, and doesn't even showboat, instead just turning to look straight back at the ramp. He starts muttering under his breath, stuff specifically about Howell Saxon, and how he plans on murdering him.



And the boos are monstrous. Boos the Mohegan Sun Arena has never before heard. The boos grow even larger, as Howell Saxon saunders out onto the stage, the RPW World Championship belt hung proudly over his shoulder. With a smirk, he lifts it high in the air, it's golden face gleeming in the light, before he slings it back over his shoulder, as he starts towards the ring.

Tony Chimel: And his opponent! From Manchester, England... he is the RPW World Champion! The Man of Pure Talent... the Man of Pure Training... the REAL HARDWORKING SPORTSMAN... HOWELL SAXON!!!

J.R.: Look at this cocky bastard!

Tazz: It's not cocky J.R.! It's confidence! It's why he's the RPW World Champion!

J.R.: Let's hope that changes tonight!

He slowly patters up the steel steps, before entering the ring, sending a big grin in the direction of Owens, before remarking 'Where's your friend?'. Kevin starts towards him, but the referee gets in between them, and tells Owens to get back into his corner, causing Saxon to chuckle to himself.

Saxon hands the title belt to the referee, who lifts it above his head, and shows it to everyone in the crowd, before handing it to the timekeeper. With the two men in their corners, the referee calls for the bell.

The bell rings.

And Owens charges. Bam! Elbow right into Howell's face, stunning him and knocking him back before he can even react. Owens rains elbow after elbow into the head of the Real Hardworking Sportsman, backing him up into the turnbuckle, before the elbows change to knee strikes into the mid-section! With all the wind knocked out of Howell, Owens grabs him by the head, and dazes him with one final elbow to the mouth, before running to the other side of the ring, and then charging back again with a massive corner splash! Owens moves back a second time, charges again... another Splash! He goes for a third...

But Saxon moves! Owens crashes face first into the turnbuckle, before stumbling around right into a giant hip toss from Saxon! Owens crashes to the mat, clutching his back, as a dizzy Saxon stumbles into the ropes before collapsing out of the ring to the outside. The audience boo him, but Saxon pays them no attention whatseoever, as he leans on the apron trying to clear his head.

J.R.: This match off to a fast paced start!

BASEBALL SLIDE! Owens crashes into Saxon, knocking the RPW World Champion flying backwards, where he collides back first into the barricade! Owens rolls out after him, and grabs Saxon, before whipping him into the steel steps... but Saxon turns it around! Owens is whipped himself, his legs bouncing off of the steps, and causing him to flip right over them, before he crashes back first to the concrete!

Howell is after him, and Owens' attempt to get to his feet is halted by a stomp to his chest. Owens is only to his feet when Saxon wants him to, as he lifts the Prizefighter, and throws him face first into apron, before pushing him into the ring. The Sportsman rolls in after him, landing kick after kick into the back of Owens leg, before eventually planting a knee into the side of his cheek. He fastens his arm tightly around the Prizefighters head, locking him in a headlock, and as a big grin emerges on his face, he slams elbow after elbow into the top of Owens head.

J.R.: Oh god, this is awful!

Tazz: Pain is the name of the game!

ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! They get faster and more brutal with each shot, Owens looking as though he's starting to fade already! But as Saxon laughs to himself, a fire is lit in Owens' angry eyes! He powers through the last elbow, grabs Saxon round the waist... and GERMAN SUPLEXES HIM! Howell lands nastily on his neck, causing him to sit up dizzily. Owens is back to his feet, charges at the ropes, and then bounds back with a CANNONBALL SENTON! Right in the middle of the ring! Howell's head bounces off the mat nastily!

Owens throws himself on top of the Sportsman...

1..

Kickout!

J.R.: He's not pinning him that easy! He's got a way to go yet!

Owens rolls off of Saxon, before forcing himself to his feet, and looking down at his opponent. He turns, runs at the ropes, and crashes down on his opponent with a Senton! He gets up again, runs at the ropes another time, and hits another SENTON to Saxon! Owens gets up once more, but instead of running at the ropes, moves over to the corner, where he starts to climb...

The fans cheer once Owens is on the top rope... but SAXON is up! Wheel Kick! Saxon drives his foot into Owens face, knocking him dizzy, before he starts to climb up after him! Owens tries to fight back, but a sharp, slicing elbow across his nose from Howell knocks him silent. JUDO THROW! From the top rope! Owens crashes onto his back, whilst Saxon remains perched on the turnbuckle! The crowd are in shock, having never seen Saxon go to the top rope before. He measures Owens, who squirms around on the mat, before he leaps...

KNEE DROP! Right onto the back of Owen's head! The force of Saxon's knees slamming down on the back of Owens' skull, all the way from the top rope, smashes Owens face first into the mat violently! Saxon rolls him over, before hooking his leg...

1...


2..

KICKOUT!

Saxon sits up angrily, but wastes no time before he's back to his feet, throwing kicks into the rib cage of Owens! He stabs his knee into Owens upper back, before locking his hands around Owens chin, and pulling his body into his knee! Owens roars with pain, stretching his hand, looking for a rope, but Saxon continues to apply the pressure!

Tazz: What a vicious submission!

Owens manages to muster up enough strength to start a slow crawl across the mat, is hand still outstretched as far as he can stretch it in order to reach the ropes! Howell applies as much pressure as he can... but it's no use! Owens reaches the ropes, and the referee forces Howell to let go!

Saxon yanks Owens to his feet, before throwing a spin-kick into his gut! Saxon charges at the ropes, bounds back, and tries for a JUMPING REVERSE TURNING KICK! Owens ducks though! Saxon turns around... SUPERKICK!

J.R.: Right into the jaw!

Saxon plummets to the mat, with Owens crashing on top of him for the pin...

1...


2...


Kickout!

Owens mounts Saxon, and drills him in the top of the head with punch after punch after punch, before getting to his feet, and preparing to land on him with a standing FROG SPLASH! NO! Saxon sticks his knees up, and Owens winds himself on them! Saxon rolls Owens off of him, before clutching him around the throat, lifting the Prizefighter to his feet, and crashing him down onto his back with a REVERSE DDT!

Saxon covers him...

1...


2...


Kickout!

Saxon lifts Owens up, before landing a nasty uppercut across his jaw, knocking Owens back into the ropes... he bounds back, but knocks Saxon dizzy with a reverse elbow! He charges at the ropes again, but Saxon catches him on the rebound! SIDEWALK BACKBREAKER! Owens clutches his back in agony, as Howell pins him...

Tazz: The pins are coming thick and fast now!

J.R.: Will this be the one that ends the match?

1...


2...


Kickout!

Saxon moves over to the turnbuckle, sizing up Owens who squirms around on the mat, trying to get to his feet. He gets in position, before he charges at the Prizefighter... SLIDING KNEE STRIKE! NO! Owens moves, before leaping through the air, and crashing down on Saxon with a standing FROG SPLASH!

But Owens isn't done with Saxon, lifting him to his feet, and with a grunt crashes an awful looking headbutt across his nose! Saxon's head snaps back, and he plummets backwards into the turnbuckle... Owens gets a running start... CANNONBALL SENTON! Into the turnbuckle! Howell's head is rocked, as he rolls in a crumpled mess into the center of the ring!

And with that, Owens starts to climb! The crowd cheer him on, as he moves slowly up the turnbuckle, Howell still unmoving on the mat... Owens is at the top rope... he leaps...

MOONSAULT! RIGHT ONTO SAXON!

He covers him...


1...




2...




KICKOUT!


The crowd are in shock as Saxon manages to get a hand up! Owens himself looks annoyed, but doesn't let it get to him, as he's ready to truly finish things off! He slowly lifts Saxon to his feet, before getting in his face and shouting 'SAY HELLO TO YOUR NEW CHAMP!' before throwing Howell against the ropes... he bounds back...

J.R.: He's gonna hit it...




POP-UP POWERBOMB!


NO!

Saxon slides right over Owens shoulders, and lands a massive Roundhouse Kick across the face of the Prizefighter as he turns around! With Owens dazed, Saxon puts his head underneath his opponents legs, and lifts him up onto his shoulders in an Electric Chair position...

Owens throws punches into Saxon's face, but it doesn't do anything to halt him! Saxon drops onto his back, slamming Owens down with an ELECTRIC CHAIR SLAM! Owens lays in an onconcious heap on the mat, allowing Saxon to climb onto him and hook his leg...

1...




2...



KICKOUT!

Saxon looks furiously at his opponent, and as Owens tries to wriggle himself up, Howell plants him back down with a Ridge Hand to the back of the neck! He follows it up by wrapping his arm tightly around the neck of Owen's behind... and locking him up in the DRAGON SLEEPER!

J.R.: OH NO! NOT THIS MOVE!

Tazz: Howell Saxon's Dragon Sleeper! We've seen him put men away with this before J.R.!

Owens roars in agony! His hand reaches out feebly, trying to clutch for a rope that isn't there! Howell grits his teeth, his eyes showing a fury that he's never before displayed, as he bends back Owens head as far as he can! The crowd are screaming for Owens to break out of it, but there's no where he can go!

Tazz: This is it! He's gonna tap!

He looks ready to tap...

Howell chuckles to himself, as he sees Owens hand bat on the mat once... but Owens won't give the man who hurt his best friend the satisfaction! He pins his feet into the ground, and pushes against them with all of his weight, lifting his body into a crab position, and giving himself some leeway! Before Saxon can re-apply the pressure, Owens slides into a better position, and brings a knee right up into Saxon's mouth, busting his lip!

SAXON LETS GO!

J.R.: HE'S OUT OF IT!

Tazz: WHAT!?!

The crowd cheer, as Owens rolls away from his opponent, who continues to tend to his lip! Saxon angrily jumps to his feet, looking over at a hurt Owens, resting against the corner, holding his neck! Saxon uses the opportunity to move over to the turnbuckle, before ripping away the top pad! The referee yells at him, before moving over, grabbing the turnbuckle padding, and attempting to re-apply it.

And Saxon uses this time to lift up that trouser leg, and strip away at that shin-guard padding!

J.R.: No... no...

The crowd hurtle boos his way, but by the time the referee turns around, the job's already been done! Saxon grins mightily as he urges Owens to get to his feet, a sadistic expression on his face as he waits to drill his opponent...


Owens is up...


He turns around...



SHIN KICK!


NO! Owens ducks it!


Howell turns around...






CODEBREAKER! OWENS HITS SAXON WITH THE FINISHER OF HIS BEST FRIEND!

J.R.: CODEBREAKER! BAH GAWD CODEBREAKER! THIS IS IT! WE'VE GOT A NEW CHAMPION!

Saxon sees stars, as he crashes onto his back on the mat! The crowd explode with cheers, as Owens crawls on top of his opponent, and hooks his leg...

J.R.: COME ON!


1...






2...













KICKOUT!

J.R.: WHAT! NO!

Tazz: That is called resilience J.R.!

NO! The crowd are in shock! As is Owens! He looks down, furious with Saxon having kicked out! Owens looks up from the mat, at the turnbuckle, and grits his teeth as he forces himself to his feet, and over to it. Once there, he begins to climb...

Once at the top, Owens turns around, glaring at his opponent who lays on the mat! He readies himself on the turnbuckle... before he leaps!

BULLFROG SPLASH!

IT MISSES! OWENS CRASHES DOWN ON THE MAT AS SAXON ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!

Owens clutches his stomach, in insurmountable pain, as he tries to get to his feet. He does so, and turns around...


SHIN KICK! IT CRASHES ACROSS OWENS TEMPLE! THE METAL LACING BUSTING HIM OPEN!

J.R.: NO! NO! NO!

Tazz: SHIN KICK! IT'S OVER! HOWELL RETAINS!


Owens collapses to the mat, blooding running fresh down the side of his head. The crowd are in shocked silence, as a smug, smiling Saxon covers him...


1...











2...



























ROPE BREAK!




Tazz: WHAT!?





IT'S CHRIS JERICHO! HE'S GRABBED OWENS' FOOT AND PUT IT ON THE ROPES!

J.R.: IT'S CHRIS JERICHO! YES! JERICHO!

Tazz: WHAT'S HE DOING HERE!?!


The crowd cheer, as Saxon sits up, beside himself with rage as he glares daggers through a bloody and beaten looking Jericho, covered in bandages and stitches!

Tazz: I thought he was in the hospital! In critical condition!

J.R.: Look at him Tazz! He is! But nothing stops Jericho from helping his best friend! Nothing!

Chris only smiles, before he stumbles backwards, clearly in pain from all of his wounds, only able to hold himself up via the barricade.

Tazz: He cost Howell the match!

A furious looking Howell Saxon rolls away from Owens, before climbing out of the ring to the face Jericho! Y2J only smiles Saxon's way, 'If you can cheat to win, then so can we!'. Saxon glares at him, and Jericho readies himself for a fight, before some quick words from Howell make him realise something. 'If you hurt me, your friend loses this match.'

Jericho stands there, and the knowledge comes to him, Howell's right. If he so much as touches Howell, then Owens will be DQ'd, and Saxon will win. And Jericho can't have that. Now knowing he can't fight Howell, and aware that he's in no position to run away, Jericho only smiles, before closing his eyes, and lifting up his arms to his sides, almost like Ben Kenobi in Star Wars.

Saxon laughs 'Theatrics.' before planting a SHIN KICK into Jericho's mouth!

J.R.: NO! OH GOD NO!

Tazz: That's what he deserves!

Blood spews everywhere as Y2J crashes to the concrete, where Howell proceeds to stomp on him over and over and over! Not done with Jericho, despite him being an unconcious, bleeding mess, Howell lifts him back up, before guiding him over to the announce table, and tossing him over it with all of his might into the two commentators.

J.R.: oooOOOAWRGH!

Tazz: What the hell man!

Pleased with his handy work, Saxon moves back over to the ring. At the referee's count of 8, Saxon climbs back into the ring, a smile on his face as he sees that Owens is only just awakening, and only just starting to get to his feet. Saxon grins as he moves over to him, before grabbing him nastily by the head...




But Owens pushes Saxon away! Howell stumbles back into the ropes... he bounds back...






POP-UP POWERBOMB!

IT HITS! SAXON IS PLANTED HARD DOWN ON THE MAT!

J.R.: POP-UP POWERBOMB! OUTTA NOWHERE!

Tazz: WHAT!? I MISSED IT!

Owens crashes on top of him for the pin!


1...










2...















...3!


Kevin Owens defeats Howell Saxon in 29:27

J.R.: OWENS WINS IT! HE'S OUR NEW RPW WORLD CHAMPION!

The crowd explode into tremendous cheers! Owens sits up, almost with disbelief, before quickly the realisation comes to him. He jumps to his feet, throwing his hands up high into the air, a sound of pure excitement escaping his mouth.

Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen... your WINNER, and NEW RPW WORLD CHAMPION... KEVIN OWENS!

The referee moves over to him, RPW World Championship belt in hand, before presenting it to him. Owens grabs the belt, almost beside himself with disbelief, before raising it high above his head, to the massive cheers of almost every fan in attendance. He looks slightly confused, before noticing his friend Jericho on the outside. He immediately drops the celebration, and runs to his friend's aid.

Kevin bends down and shakes his friend back into conciousness. Jericho is a bloody and beaten mess, who can't even bring himself to stand, but when he awakens and sees Kevin at his aid, with the RPW World Championship in hand, he smiles, before hugging his friend. Owens lifts Jericho up to his feet, and puts his arm over his shoulder, before carrying his friend around ringside, and back up the ramp, to insurmountable cheers.

Howell only just comes to his senses in the ring, before quickly sitting up and looking around himself. He turns around to see Owens and Jericho moving back up the ramp, before realising what has happened, and begins to smack the mat over and over, almost like a child throwing a tantrum.

Owens and Jericho reach the stage, before turning around to face back towards Howell again. Owens laughs, before raising the RPW World Championship belt above his head, again to the massive cheers from the crowd. Howell slumps onto his back, in disbelief that he is no longer champion. With one final shot of Owens celebrating on the ramp, with his beaten and battered friend slung over his shoulder, the show fades out.

END.
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