ALL OUT BRAWL 2017

A much larger arena hosts this event than the usual Showtime shows, with fans of RPW stretching far and wide across the stands of the Webster Bank Arena. Yellow fireworks blast from the stage, all way down the ramp, and finally end as all four corners of the ring shoot bright yellow pyro into the air! The crowd boom with applause! They're ready... for All Out Brawl!

The cameras sweep over the ecstatic audience, holding signs high above their heads reading various things such as; 'STEVENS FOR CHAMP!', 'RPW IS JERICHO!', 'THE LUNATIC FRINGE!', and one particularly proud fan holds up a sign saying 'SHUT THE FUCK UP SAXON!'. We sweep from this crowd, over to the commentary table, where Jim Ross and Tazz await.

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

Tazz: And I'm Tazz!

J.R.: And tonight we are at the Webster Bank Arena, in Bridgeport Connecticut, and we are readying ourselves for what should be a slobber knocker of a pay-per-view... ALL OUT BRAWL!

Tazz: J.R.! This is gonna be one hell of a show! Not one but TWO champions will be crowned tonight, as well as a number one contender for the RPW World Championship!

J.R.: That's right, kicking things off for us we're going to see Kevin Owens, with his so called 'best friend' Chris Jericho in his corner, go up against the so far undefeated Quincy Reagan! And the winner of that match becomes our new number one contender! So whoever wins our main event better watch their back!

Tazz: They better! I wouldn't want either Kevin Owens or Quincy Reagan after me... sheesh!

The camera pans from the commentators over to the titantron, where a video starts to play.

The hustle and bustle of a large crowd can be heard from somewhere out of sight. All of a sudden the biggest and liveliest amusement park you've seen comes into view. As it pans over the park the giant markee sign reads "Six and a Half Flags". The people are screaming and the bratty kids are crying because their parents won't let them ride the rollercoaster even though it's not the parent's fault that the kid doesn't meet the height requirement and no matter how hard they try the little shits can't seem to understand the idea of park policy.

All of a sudden our two heroes come into view. Chris Jericho is wearing his amusement park visiting scarf while Kevin Owens is eating cotton candy and carrying a giant stuffed panda bear on his back. Kevin has an annoyed look on his face.

Chris Jericho
What's the matter Kev? You've seemed annoyed since before we got here. Do you want to ride the Ferris Wheel And A Half again?

Kevin Owens
No I don't want to ride the God damned Ferris Wheel And A Half, again! How did those two clowns get a world title match while I'm relegated to a number one contenders match?

Two clowns walk past the best friends.

Bimbo The Clown
World title match?

The clown replies, in a typical Hollywood-like raspy alcoholic clown voice. The other one replies to him in broken English with a thick Colombian accent.

Lopez The Clown
What this?

Bimbo The Clown
I'm sorry fellas, but there's no World title match on the agenda for tonight.

Chris Jericho
Not you two clowns, other two different clowns.

Bimbo and Lopez seem thoroughly confused.

Bimbo The Clown
I'm pretty sure we're the only clowns on duty today.

Chris Jericho
Just leave us alone.

Bimbo The Clown
No, sir! If you've been misinformed we're gonna help you get to the bottom of this.

An angry Kevin Owens gets right in Bimbo's face.

Kevin Owens
You are not the clowns that I was referring to, however, I will still drop you where you stand if you don't get the fuck out of my face!

Chris Jericho
Yeah!

Bimbo goes to turn around and then tries to take a swing at Kevin, who just ducks the punch and begins the assault on Bimbo. Lopez pulls out a knife in an effort to help his buddy, but Chris takes the panda off of Kevin's back in an amazingly action movie-like teamwork move and begins to beat Lopez into a bloody pulp. Kevin picks up the battered Bimbo and throws him into the knock the bottles game, knocking over all the bottles. The nervous game attendantt hands Kevin another oversized stuffed panda and he walks away seeming content.

Chris Jericho
Is that better?

Kevin Owens
Yeah, let's just take a walk.

Each of them carry a different panda as they walk down the amusement park.

Chris Jericho
You've got a shot at that title. Or at least, you will soon. We've got nothing to worry about. Plus, you're up against that Quinton Rodriguez fellow, you'll definitely steal the show.

Kevin Owens
Yeah, good man, Quinton. Always liked him. Is it Quinton or Quentin actually?

Chris Jericho
It's a sin what his ex-wife's done to him. I've gone through a divorce. I'll tell you, I'd rather face Brock Lesnar in a Hardcore match than go through that again.

Kevin Owens
Is that why you never got married again?

Jericho breathes in deep as he closes his eyes, then calmly breathes out.

Chris Jericho
I am married. Married to my work.

Kevin chuckles.

Kevin Owens
What buzzfeed article did you pull that from?

Chris Jericho
'10 Things To Say When Someone's Asking Ass Questions.'

Kevin Owens
I did not ask you an ass question...

Chris & Kevin
Yet.

They snigger to themselves. All of a sudden, a couple of kids run right in front of them, playing tag, apparently, in the middle of an overcrowded amusement park, as their parents chase them around.

Chris Jericho
Whoa! What's this!?

Jericho sees this and just stops one of the dads.

Chris Jericho
Tell me, sir. Do you think you're a responsible father?

Kevin Owens
YOU'RE SHIT!

The guy seems confused.

Chris Jericho
Letting your kids run around like this. You know there's clowns in this park? CLOWNS!?

Kevin Owens
With knives.

Chris Jericho
WITH KNIVES!

Guy
Hey, buddy, how about you mind your own business.

Kevin Owens
WATCH IT!

Guy
Watch what?

















...














...














Chris Jericho
Your kids are being kidnapped.

The guy looks over past them and sees some dirty looking sleazebag grabbing both of his kids.

Guy
NO! SPUD! BOBBY!

He bolts off running away, and Jericho trips him, making him fall flat on his face.

Chris Jericho
WE'RE NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU.

Kevin Owens
Just let him go.

The guy stands up and runs after his kids.

Guy
SPUUUUUUUUUUD!

Owens and Jericho scornfully scowl at the man as he rushes away.

Kevin Owens
Hopeless bastard.

Chris Jericho
That's the kind of parent to raise kids who become doctors, but when they have to preform life saving surgery on the president, they freeze up because they remember some shitty memory of their dad and the president dies.

Kevin Owens
Hopeless sturgeons.

Chris Jericho
No, surgeons, not sturgeons.

Kevin Owens
Hopeless surgeons.

The two continue to walk through the amusement park, constantly scoffing at the children running about with little supervision. They pass all of the weird fried food booths and crappy merchandise stands. As the round the corner near the merry-go-round. Kevin gets a puzzled look on his face.

Kevin Owens
Hey Chris, does one of those kids look like Quinton Rodriguez to you?

Chris squints his eyes to get a better look and concentrates.

Chris Jericho
Yeah they do! Even have the same hairline.

Kevin Owens
Poor girl.

Chris Jericho
You don't think that can be his kids and his ex-wife could you?

Kevin Owens
I mean I heard something backstage that she was gonna let them see him wrestle on Sunday, so that may explain why they're here. But there's only one way to find out.

Chris & Kevin
We stalk them!

Chris and Kevin run to the nearest gift shop and steal some binoculars and hats to conceal their identities. The shopkeeper almost says something but then he realizes how pissed off Jericho and Owens look, so he just lets it go. Then the stalking begins. When they leave the gift shop, they notice that the kids are still in line for the merry-go-round they jump into a nearby bush and start to watch.

Chris Jericho
Did you see that? The little one picked his nose! They have to be his kids!

Kevin Owens
How does a child picking his nose constitute a paternity test?

Chris Jericho
Everyone knows that Quinton Rodriguez is a nose-picker, and look at that technique, the kid has to be his!

Kevin Owens
I wonder if the gift shop sells paternity tests...

Chris hits Kevin on the shoulder.

Chris Jericho
They're moving! We have to follow!

Chris and Kevin sneak out from inside the bush and begin to hide behind multiple objects as they follow the family. They hide behind lamp poles, garbage cans and even use children as camoflague. A faint cry of "Spuuuuuuuuud!!" can be heard in the background. Jericho then notices something one of the kids does that alarms him.

Chris Jericho
DID YOU SEE THAT!?

Kevin Owens
See what?

Chris Jericho
The male one just kicked a can on the floor in the most "I'm bitter because my wife left me and doesn't let me see my kids" way I've ever seen!

A smile emerges on Owens' face.

Kevin Owens
Your deduction techniques never cease to amaze me. Let's give her a piece of our minds.

Chris and Owens walk at a fast pace in direction of the woman and her kids.

Chris Jericho
Hey!

She turns around.

Kevin Owens
Hey you!

She seems confused, and tries to rush away with a kids.

Kevin Owens
Don't walk away!

The two tyrannical tyrants run in front of her, blocking her path.

Chris Jericho
How could you do something like that to Quinton?!

Kevin Owens
Yeah! Quinton is a good man!

Chris Jericho
A good man!

Sheila
Who on Earth is Quinton? Who the Hell are you!?

Chris Jericho
THE FATHER OF THESE CHILDREN!

Sheila
You mean Quincy?

Kevin Owens
QUINTON! QUINTON IS A GOOD MAN!

She turns around and tries to rush away as her frightened kids lead the way.

Kevin Owens
DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM US, WOMAN!

Chris Jericho
YEAH!

Kevin Owens
QUINTON IS OUR FRIEND! HE'S NOT THE BEST FRIEND OF EITHER OF US BECAUSE WE'RE OBVIOUSLY EACH OTHER'S BEST FRIEND AND WE LOVE EACH OTHER A LOT BUT QUINTON IS A GOOD MAN!

Chris Jericho
YEAH! HE'S A GOOD MAN! HOW DARE YOU?!

Kevin Owens
YOU HEARTLESS WENCH!

Chris Jericho
YOU SHAMEFUL JEZEBEL!

Jericho and Owens follow behind, shouting at her as she walks away at a brisk pace with the kids. She picks up the little girl in order to pick up the pace.

Kevin Owens
GET BACK HERE YOU... YOU LOATHSOME STRUMPET!

They follow, shouting abuse all the way through the parking lot.

Chris Jericho
YOU EXECRABLE HUSSY!

Kevin Owens
YOU UNGODLY SHREW!

Owens grabs a bit of plastic wrap from the floor, curls it into a ball and lobs it at her. It flies an incredible length of about 3 feet. She gets in her car and speeds away.

Chris Jericho
TRAMP!

Kevin Owens
Incredible. It baffles me how self-absorbed some people are.

Jericho and Owens shake their heads, disgruntled.

Chris Jericho
Rollercoaster and a half?

Owens nods, they turn and walk back into Six and a Half Flags as the scene fades out.

Kelly Kelly stands backstage at a food trolly, minding her own business as she pours herself juice from a jug. Down the hall, a door creaks open, and Thorn's head slowly peers out, eyeing an unaware Kelly Kelly.

Thorn
Psst!

Kelly looks around startled, before noticing Thorn stood by the door, an intense smile on his face. He nods his head in the direction of the room, gesturing that she should follow him, as an incredibly reluctant Kelly Kelly starts to peer around, hoping that someone nearby can help give her an excuse not to.

Thorn
I've got something to show you...

Kelly realises there's no saving her, and not wanting to be rude, gulps as she moves towards Thorn. He grins excitedly as he opens the door further to let her in.

Thorn
Look... look...

Kelly moves inside the room, and raises an eyebrow at what she sees. A series of cardboard cutouts, all of various celebrities and famous figures, except with the faces of Thorn's All Out Brawl opponents printed out and stuck over their heads. Kelly looks confused as she turns to Thorn, who only nods proudly at her.

Thorn
Impressive huh?

Kelly Kelly
What is it?

Thorn
It's my training area! For the Battle Royal! These are my opponents, look!

Thorn walks over to a cutout, clearly originally of Hilary Duff, except now with Brodus Clay's face over it. He grabs it's arm, and bites it off, before spitting it out in the direction of Kelly. She looks at Thorn speechlessly, clearly desiring to be elsewhere.

Kelly Kelly
I don't think you can bite people's arms off in the battle royal...

Thorn
Well it's not disqualification so who can say?

Kelly Kelly
Well, I think the law is still in effect...

Thorn
Silly trivial things like the law will not stop me from becoming RPW's first ever RPW Extreme Champion! And neither will my opponents! I will dispose of them as easily as I dispose of these cardboard men!

He twists around and punches a Marilyn Munroe Dean Ambrose through the head, knocking it flying off, before turning around for a spin kick. He trips over his own foot, sending him stumbling over, head first into a Barack Obama Jamie Noble, before he plummets with it on to the floor. Kelly looks away awkwardly, acting like she didn't notice, as Thorn quickly scurries to his feet.

Thorn
That was on purpose, it was a spear...

Kelly Kelly
Yep... Can I go now?

Thorn goes red in the face as he watches her try and avoid eye contact, knowing he has failed to impress her. He sighs inwardly.

Thorn
You may.

Kelly forces a smile onto her face before quickly moving out of the room. Thorn stands ashamed as he hears Kelly's footsteps patter hectically into the distance. He then starts to speak to himself.

Thorn
You may find yourself unimpressed now Kelly Kelly, but just you wait. Once I win the RPW Extreme Championship, then the impression will begin to be... it will start...-then you'll...you will be the impressed...-the impressiveness-you'll-impressed-...FUCK!

Thorn twists around violently and aggressively punches a Whoopi Goldberg Goldust across the room, before going on a rampage, tearing the cutouts limb from cardboard limb. The scene fades out.





A loud pop sounds, as Reagan jogs out onto the stage, looking in prime form for the match. He stands on the stage, taking in the cheers from the crowd with a smile, before he raises both of his arms in the air to larger cheers.

Tony Chimel: The following is a RPW World Championship Number One Contenders contest! Introducing first, from the South side of Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 225 lbs... QUINCY REAGAN!

Tazz: Quincy Reagan! I love this guy J.R.!

J.R.: As do the crowd in attendance today Tazz, and I don't blame 'em!

Reagan starts to move down the ramp, high fiving the fans leaning over the barrier on either side as he moves down to the ring, and specifically fist bumping one child who looks particularly excited about seeing him. Reagan then rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring.

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



Cheers are heard again, but due to the quietness of the start of the song, they lower quite quickly in order to listen. The stage fills with smoke, but Kevin Owens and Chris Jericho themselves are nowhere to be seen...

Exactly 43 seconds after the song starts playing, upon the song kicking in, Kevin Owens zooms out of the curtain driving a Golf Cart, with two Carnival Giant Panda Bears in the passenger seats, the audience exploding with cheers and laughter at the sight. They cheer even more, as stood on the back of the Golf Cart, performing his signature Y2J pose, is Chris Jericho.

Tony Chimel: And their opponent, from Marieville, Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 266 lbs, with his best friend Chris Jericho, the Prize Fighter... KEVIN OWENS!

Jericho spins around on the Golf Cart dramatically, as pyro shoots out of the titantron behind him. Owens speeds down the ramp, beeping the horn repeatedly all the way down, until he gets to the bottom, where he starts to slowly circle the ring, with fans next to them trying to reach over the barrier to grab the Golf Cart. Owens yells at them 'Get your greasy sweaty hands off my cart!', which prompts Jericho to laugh.

Tazz: Aww you gotta love it!

J.R.: You don't got to Tazz, and I certainly don't!

Tazz: Owen's is a changed man J.R.!

The pair finally come to a stop once they've circled back around towards the ramp, both with overly serious expressions expressions as they climb into the ring, as though they didn't just enter in a Golf Cart. Jericho stands on the apron as Owens climbs into the ring, and moves over to Quincy. He stares at Reagan for a moment, with the crowd looking confused, before he finally stretches out his hand for a handshake. Reagan looks at his hand for a moment, as though expecting Owens to pull it away, but is surprised when the handshake goes through, and Owens gives him a respectful nod before heading back to his corner.

Tazz: See! I told you!

J.R.: Yeah well I'm not convinced, we'll see what happens when the match goes on!

The referee rings the bell!

Owens and Reagan approach one another, and lock up in a test of strength, one which sees Reagan the quick victor, being able to lock Owens in a headlock. The Prizefighter pushes himself out of it by shoving Reagan away from him, who bounds into the ropes, and bounces back... Owens leapfrogs him! Reagan not ready to turn around into any offense from Owens, springboards off the ropes, going for a clothesline... but Owens ducks it. Reagan doesn't know where his opponent is, allowing Owens to plant him down with a Russian Leg Sweep!

Quick pin...

1...

Kickout!

J.R.: A kick out at 1, Reagan's not going out like that!

Acting quickly, Owens wraps an arm around Quincy's chin and locks him up in a headlock of his own on the mat. But Reagan's too fresh and too strong this early, forcing himself and Owens to his feet, he reverses the headlock into a big back suplex! Owens lifts himself to his feet, but he's knocked back down with a clothesline, and upon getting back up, eats yet another clothesline. He uses the ropes to get to his feet for a third time, but Reagan is on him, pushing him into the ropes and irish whipping him. Owens rebounds, and Quincy lifts him and drops him with a huge free fall drop!

Tazz: Holy shit!

J.R.: The strength on that man!

Cover from Quincy...

1...

Kickout!

Lifting Owens up, Reagan snapmares him and attempts to lock him up in a chin-lock, but Owens refuses to let him lock it in, rolling away from the attempt. Reagan tries to follow up on it, but a reverse elbow across the face sends him backwards, as Owens follows up with a Hangman's Neckbreaker! Deciding this time not to cover him, he instead lifts Reagan back up and locks him in a Sleeper Hold!

Whilst weaker this time, Owens feels Reagan starting to power his way out of the move again, so thinks quickly. With all the strength he can muster, he lifts Reagan, and slams him down with an Overhead Sleeper Suplex! Again not covering him, Owens charges at the ropes, bounds back, and drops on Reagan with a Senton! Reagan clutches his stomach, winded, as Owens covers him...

1...

2..

Kickout!

Tazz: And a nearfall!

Owens looks quite angrily at the referee, but knowing it wasn't a 3 count, continues the match. He mounts Reagan and looks to throw a punch into his face, before changing his mind and instead dragging him over to the turnbuckle, where he places him in a sitting position. Owens moves all the way back over the other side of the ring, before charging...

CANNONBALL SENTON!

J.R.: That might be it! He might have him!

Owens plummets into Reagan, sending him dizzy, and rolling him out into the middle of the mat, before he gets out onto the apron and starts to climb to the top rope. The crowd sit on the edges of their seats excitedly, as Quincy jumps to his feet, and lands a fist into Owens face, before climbing up onto the turnbuckle with him.

J.R.: And Reagan stops that attempt!

Tazz: It's precarious on that top rope J.R.!

Quincy locks Owens up in a suplex position, getting ready to lift him, but Owens wraps his feet around the top turnbuckle, refusing to budge. Quincy tries and tries, but the Prizefighter starts to land punches into Reagan's rib in order to have him let go. Reagan's hold on Owens slips, and Owens follows up with punch after punch to his opponent... finally Reagan falls, crashing to the mat...

Owens measures him...

J.R.: What's he going for here!?

BULLFROG SPLASH! It hits!

Owens scrambles on top of Reagan for the cover, as Jericho watches with baited breath...

1...

2...

Kickout!

Tazz: Oh! So close! Owens could almost smell the victory!

Owens sits up, red faced and irritated with the constant kickouts from his opponent. He shares a look with Jericho who seems to feel the same way. "Stay down Quinton!" Jericho yells, "We want to like you! Stay down!", but Reagan already starts to clamber to his feet. Owens grabs him around the head, getting ready to plant him down with a DDT... but Reagan reverses it! SPINEBUSTER!

Reagan circles around the ring, some momentum back in his corner, before moving back over to Owens and dragging him to his feet. He locks Owens up for a suplex, lifting him vertically above his head, and in an incredibly impressive display of power, holds him there! The crowd pop the incredibly strength, as Reagan goes red in the face, clearly struggling, before dropping Owens down in front of him for a SUPLEX SITOUT FACEBUSTER!

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

Reagan covers him...

1...

2...

...Kickout!

J.R.: NO! Owens kicks out!

Jericho gives a giant sigh of relief, as Reagan tries not to spend too much time disapointed. He quickly goes back on the offense, and upon lifting Owens up, throws him into the ropes... Owens bounds back...

MICHINOKU DRIVER!

NO! Owens slips over his shoulder and pushes Reagan away from him! Reagan turns around... SUPERKICK!

Reagan hits the mat, and Owens follows it up! He charges at the turnbuckle... SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT! IT HITS! Reagan rolls around clutching his stomach as Owens starts to pull himself to his feet. He approaches the dazed Quincy and drags him into an upright position, before throwing him into the ropes, Reagan bounds back...

POP-UP POWERBOMB! He plants him!

J.R.: HE HITS IT! POP-UP POWERBOMB!

Tazz: That's gotta be it!

Owens lands on top of him, and hooking his leg...

1...




2...





...3!

Kevin Owens defeats Quincy Reagan in 18:22



The crowd cheer Owens as the referee moves over to him and raises his hand as victor, with Jericho immediately jumping into the ring and hugging his best friend! Jericho is overly giddy, and Owens is clearly too tired out from the tough match to celebrate as gleefully with him. Instead, Jericho grabs Owens' other hand and raises it for him.

Tony Chimel: And your winner, and new number one contender for the RPW World Championship... KEVIN OWENS!

Reagan gets to his feet and moves over to Owens, patting him on the back in congratulations, and offering a handshake again. Owens accepts the handshake with a respectful smile, before he grabs Reagan's hand and raises it himself. The crowd cheer even louder, with all three men, Chris Jericho, Kevin Owens, and Quincy Reagan, with their hands raised in the center of the ring.

With the men continuing to stand there, the loud cheers still washing over them, the scene fades out.

The camera fades to Kelly Kelly standing backstage with a microphone.

Kelly Kelly
Please welcome my guest at this time, Dean Ambrose!

Camera pans to the right reveling Dean Ambrose standing with his fist tightly gripped in his hand.

Kelly Kelly
Dean, You are competing tonight in possibly one of the most important matches of your career tonight, where you will be in a battle royal fighting for the RPW Extreme Championsh.......

Dean Ambrose
Let me just stop you right there Kel. I already know where this is gonna go, so I am just gonna save time. Tonight, I am competing for the RPW Extreme Championship, and over the past couple of weeks; I don't know if you've noticed, but somebody is trying to mess with me. Last week during my match with Quincy Reagan, somebody started fucking with the lights, distracting me, which ultimately cost me the match last week. And the week before that, the same thing happened. I don't know who, or what, or why this person is doing what they are doing. But they are trying to pick a fight with me, which is a big, big fucking mistake on their part. And when whoever is messing with me finally reveals themselves, i'll be ready to tear their face off. But what's important tonight is that I walk home with the Title tonight. And if this person is going to try and cost me the match tonight; well.... I'll be ready. It's not going to affect me one bit. So they can bring on whatever they want to me tonight! it doesn't matter!! I am going to use everything in my power to win tonight! and make history!  I will fight to my last breath to take what is mine. Everyone else in the match tonight are gonna feel the wrath of Ambrose, and they are all going to regret getting in the way of me getting what I want. I am sending fair warning to the guy or gal who's been messing with me these past few weeks.

Ambrose looks directly at the camera intensely.

Dean Ambrose
If you do somehow cost me my title tonight. I'm coming.....For you!

Ambrose walks off camera and it fades to black.

We come back to ringside and some guy wearing an eye-patch is standing in the ring with some other, slightly taller guy. RPW fans, of course, have no idea who they are.

Tony Chimel: The following is a Tag Team match! Introducing first, in the ring, at a combined weight of 425 pounds! The team of Archer Ryland, and Angelus!

The crowd give no response whatsoever.



The crowd don't know whether to cheer or boo, but they're definitely taken aback. Scott Hall and Kevin Nash swagger out from behind the curtain like it's 1996, and Justin Roberts follows behind.

Tazz: What? Is it 1996?!

It's not 1996, if you're wondering. Nash gets to the ring pretty swiftly while Hall trails behind because he's fat as fuck. Big Daddy Cool enters the squared circle and instantly is towering over his opponents.

Tony Chimel: And their opponents, at--

Justin Roberts rips the microphone from Chimel's hands and pushes him out of the ring. Chimel doesn't fight it, but while he's leaving the ring, Roberts pushes him again, and he collapses onto the ringside floor.

Justin Roberts: AT A COMBINED WEIGHT OF 600 POUNDS TO THE DECIMALS! SCOTT HALL! KEVIN NASH! THE NEW! WORLD! ORDER!

J.R.: What on Earth is goin' on!?

The ref looks confused but signals for the bell nonetheless. Angelus quickly tries to take advantage of the fanfare, using it as a distraction to start throwing lefts and rights into the back of Nash, but Nash promptly levels the Martial Artist Pirate with a clothesline. Nash runs across the ring and boots Ryland off the apron, then leaves the ring.

Tazz: Is this for real?

As Ryland tumbles to the outside, Hall finally reaches ringside and starts putting the boots to him. Meanwhile, Nash scoops up Angelus and drops him back down again with a vicious sidewalk slam.

J.R.: I don't know about whether or not it's for real, but Nash is dominating this match!

On the outside, Hall (who is fucking out of breath), is slamming Ryland's head against the ringpost repeatedly. Nash motions to Hall to get into the ring, so The Bad Guy rolls Ryland under the bottom rope and joins his partner inside the squared circle.

J.R.: I'm not sure the fans know what's going on!

Tazz: Well they ain't no not alone, J.R.!

The NWO look down at their fallen opponents and too sweet each other before hoisting both Ryland and Angelus to their feet, tucking them under their legs in powerbomb positions. Nash lifts up Archelus while Hall brings Ryland up for The Razor's Edge.

J.R.: GOOD GAWD ALMIGHTY THEY HAVE FAMILIES!

Nash slams Angelus down with a Jacknife Powerbomb and Hall drops Ryland right on the back of his neck witn The Razor's Edge, laying both men out with authority. Both Nash and Hall drop down and cover both men, because why the fuck not. The ref isn't gonna do shit anyway.

1...

2...

...3!

The New World Order defeat Archer Ryland & Angelus in 2:10

Justin Roberts enters the ring once again with his microphone in hand.

Justin Roberts: YOUR WINNERS... SCOTT HALL! KEVIN NASH! THE NEW! WORLD! ORDER!

Their theme song stops playing as soon as Justin Roberts hands his microphone to Scott Hall.

Scott Hall
Hello, chicos... Guess who's back?

Hall produces a toothpick from inside his trunks. He struggles to do this considering they're way too tight for his waist. He then puts it in his mouth to the disgust of some fans.

Scott Hall
That's right, it's your boys, the New World Order. And we're were to...

Hall pretends to have forgotten his line.

Scott Hall
What are we here for?... I seem to have forgotten. Teach these young brash punks a lesson in wrestling?

The crowd give something that may or may not be interpreted as a "reaction".

Scott Hall
Nah, that ain't it. Win some Championships?... Maybe. That's not it, though.

Nash and Hall look at each other with sloppy juicy steamy shit eating grins.

Scott Hall
Oh, that's right.

Nash raises his fist in the air as Hall leans frontward against the upper rope, staring at the camera. Maybe to look cool, maybe because he can't stand up for a lot longer.

Scott Hall
We're taking over.

Hall passes Nash the microphone, and the latter proceeds to speak in his usual tone: so slow that you need to watch it in double speed to actually make out what he's saying.

Kevin Nash
Y'know, Scott, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Nash chuckles like a goofy mongoloid.

Kevin Nash
In fact, I'm pretty happy about this whole situation... With a few little exceptions. For starters, let me just make it clear that the NWO is here in RPW!

The crowd cheers, probably for nostalgia's sake or something.

Kevin Nash
The NWO is here in RPW, and that makes us the premier talent in this company. I don't care how many young guys you've got who you think have what it takes. I don't care who you think can lead the new generation. It's not about them anymore. It's about us.

The RPW fans don't take too kindly to that. Nash hands off the mic to Hall.

Scott Hall
Oh, you don't like that? We are the future, boys and girls. We're gonna be here 'til we drop dead in this very ring, and there ain't a God damn thing you can do about it. And no, it ain't gonna be as easy as it looks.

Hall passes the mic back to Nash and the big man continues his monotonous promo.

Kevin Nash
That's right. We're gonna be around for a long time, kids. And y'know, Scott, based on this?

Nash motions to the dead carcasses of Angelus and Ryland in the ring.

Kevin Nash
It's gonna be a piece of cake. I'm actually feeling pretty disrespected that our opponents are a couple of, for lack of a better term, vanilla midgets. This is the problem with the business these days. Because this small minority of 'smart' fans won't shut their mouths, you're seeing a bunch of talentless little jumping beans cropping up in every promotion on the face of the earth.

Big Sexy shakes his head. Hall grabs the mic in Nash's hand and pulls it to himself, without removing it from the hold.

Scott Hall
Yeah, if you like Daniel Bryan so much WHY DON'T YOU MARRY HIM HUH?

Hall backs off, laughing to himself, and taunting the crowd.

Kevin Nash
Good one, Scott. Anyway, It's a disgrace. These guys look like Walmart employees, they don't know how to work and they don't know how to draw.

Nash chuckles to himself.

Kevin Nash
Take a look at the two of us. Two guys in peak physical condition. Do you honestly think that guys who look like that...

Big Daddy Cool points to Archelus, then back to himself.

Kevin Nash
... Can beat guys like us? So I'll tell you what. You wanna be smart fans? You wanna use insider terms and act like you know this business? Fine. I've got an insider term for you all.

Nash smirks.

Kevin Nash
You're a bunch of shoot retards.

Hall and Nash look at each other and laugh like scumbags, then Nash drops the mic. The NWO theme starts playing again as the two leave the ring with Justin Roberts, who still gave no explanation as to why he was there in the first place. The scene fades out.

Howell Saxon appears on the titantron. His signature smirk is spread across his face, but there’s something else there this time. Grim determination, maybe, with a hint of apprehension. Not letting any kind of weakness show, however, he lets his smile widen as he raises the mic to his mouth.

Howell Saxon
Stevens! Round two.

The crowd belt out a fresh stream of boos. Howell, able to hear them from backstage, rolls his eyes.

Howell Saxon
Oh, that’s right, you bunch of wusses. Keep booing, keep whinging, keep crying ‘cause you know your precious Stevens is going to have his face in a bloody canvas by the end of the night. I needn’t remind you I kicked this man’s arse once before, and I have no doubt I can do it again, and come out on top.

Howell’s expression is steely, self-assured, and doesn’t falter as the crowd continue to shout their protests at him. He ignores them and addresses his opponent directly.

Howell Saxon
I hope you’re listening, Stevens. You hear this voice? This confident, tough, educated voice? That’s the voice of the man who’s going to strip you of the bravado these idiots love you for so much.

The crowd erupt into thunderous boos. Howell smirks, then grins, feeding off the audience’s hate.

Howell Saxon
Hear that? They love you and they hate me. This whole federation’s got it in for me. That’s why that tag team fiasco didn’t go great for me – you all wanted me out! But guess what? I didn’t stay down for long. I never stay down. Remember what I did? I beat the piss out of Noble and showed you all I can end a match in seconds. I hope you can give me a good fight, Stevens, but frankly I doubt it. So I guess I’ll have to settle for knocking you out in seconds too.

Disgusted, the crowd yell louder than ever. We see a number of angry faces and shaking heads. But Howell’s not letting it bring him down. If anything, it’s fuelling his confidence, although his irritation is obvious.

Howell Saxon
Oh, shut up, you lot. You know, I know… and you definitely know, Stevens – that I’m the most talented man here. I’ve said it before, and Tazz has reinstated it… I’m a real hardworking sportsman! I’m more than just a flashy, goody-two-shoes showman, alright? I’ve come from years and years of training, and I’m not about to let down any of my instructors, friends, teachers… but least of all myself. So brace yourself, because I’ve got real skill. And I can’t wait to show everyone the extent of it. Stevens, come and get your arse kicked, you pansy.

The crowd’s boos and yells are deafening, intense, but undeniably excited as Howell tosses the mic to the floor, his expression indistinguishable between a scowl and a smirk, and swaggers arrogantly away from the camera.

The scene crossfades into a backstage shot of wrestling legend, "The Road Dogg" Jesse James. A nearly unprecedented roar of cheers erupt, quite easily trumping over the backstage audio briefly. His whole body is in clear view at the start, where we can see The Real Double J in his classic Attitude Era attire: this time his black sleeveless T-shirt sports his name in D-X neon green, tucked in as usual to his black wrestling sweatpants of which sport the same neon green on their outside sides, one half of his nickname overlaying on either side. Those sweatpants, too, are tucked in but into his boots that mimic the pants’ design on the front of them.

He’s pacing back and forth, mouthing something. Every now and again, a very slightly audible ’Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of ages…’ or ’... that D-O-double G’ can be heard. Soon enough, the small verbal recital is joined by him practicing those classic jabs. It’s as though he hasn’t lost a step, almost as if one already could hear Jim Ross saying ’that Southpaw, Road Dogg with the left hands’. The crowd, as it turns out, is treated to an early look at the classic Shake, Rattle, and Roll as he practices the vintage little juke and jive between jabs and a practice punch.

The camera begins to move in a little closer, and from behind Road Dogg, Tony Atlas can be seen walking down the corridor. His signature laugh echoes throughout the backstage area as he sees Road Dogg, drawing the Roadie’s attention. They dap each other up and pull into a hug, exchanging heartfelt pleasantries.

Road Dogg
Well if it ain’t the B-O-double crooked letter. What’s going on, man?

Tony Atlas
I'm good my man! Good luck in your match!

Atlas walks away, leaving a pat on James' back and a microphone in his hand. The camera focuses on solely Road Dogg again, this time the closest its been yet, with the view allowing a view from the top of his head half way down his chest. He looks at the camera with a smirk on his face and raises the microphone to his lips.

Road Dogg
Oh, you didn't know?

He smiles at the camera and walks past it. The camera stays where it is, but we're allowed a view of Jesse James walking through the curtain just a few feet away as he chants the second part of his legendary chorus.



The cameras fade back to the ring. Tony Chimel stands proud in the center of the ring, having dusted off his suit from the small scuffle with Justin Roberts. Next to him, stands backstage manager and trusted and respected RPW staff member, Scott Green. Between them, stands a podium, and on the podium is something covered in a cloth. It is however, curiously championship belt shaped.

Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen, myself and my friend Scott Green have been handed the honour of unveiling to you, the RPW Extreme Championship!

Green rips away the cloth, and reveals the belt, to a positive fan response. A black leather strap, which sits plates of bright shining silver. On the main plate, in big golden letters, is the word 'EXTREME'. Chimel and Green both smile at being given the honour to have unveiled it, and after letting the crowd observe it for a few moments longer, Green and a couple of ringside hands take the Championship Belt and the podium out of the ring.



'Oh, you didn't know?

..

'Yo' ass better call somebodaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.....!'

The crowd pops and begins almost immediately to chant along with the familiar line. Out of the curtain comes "The Road Dogg" Jesse James, a microphone in his right hand as he continues to drag out the last syllable of "somebody". In the left is a bottle of water, as per his usual custom. He moves to the left side of the stage until he's finally done, immediately putting up an 'X' towards that side of the arena. He begins a walk to the other side and once there, the 'X' is flashed for that side. He begins to make his way to the center of the stage.

Road Dogg
Bridgeport, Connecticut, you know how it be.

He begins to walk down the ramp.

Road Dogg
Y'see, it's me, it's me, it's that D-OOOOOOOOOOO-double G! Back once again in that sports E-N-T!

As he finishes, he stops about three-quarters way down the ramp. He takes a deep swig of his water bottle and begins a crotch chop with his microphone hand. With every chop, he spits out a quick fountain of the water. Once he's done, he jerks the bottle in such a way to force out a large spill before tossing the bottle into the crowd and quickly rolling into the ring. He takes the full spotlight in the center of the ring, his knees slightly and his eyes locked onto the hard camera.

Road Dogg
Cut my music!

The classic theme begins to subside and he finally takes his eyes off of the hard camera and begins to address the live crowd once again.

Road Dogg
Welcome... to the Dogg House! Where you know we like to kick this shiznet DOG! GIE! STYLE!

The crowd chants along with "doggie style".

Road Dogg
Now I know y'all ain't forgot it... Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages... Ruthless Pro Wrestling proudly brings to you, that T to the R to the U to the E to that D-O-double G: "The Road Dogg": JESSE! JAMES!

The crowd chants along like the days of old. He throws the microphone out of the ring, before stepping in the middle, and beckoning on the next entrant...



The cheers for James are replaced by boos for The Cannibal, as he bursts out of the curtain onto the stage, gritting his teeth nastily as he stares at The Road Dogg with crazy eyes. He roars as he starts to stomp down to the ring, doing his signature huffs and puffs that he does.

Tony Chimel: And coming in next, from Memphis, Tennessee, weighing in at 270 lbs, The Cannibal... THORN!

Thorn aggressively grabs at the ring ropes, before using them to pull himself up onto the apron. He quickly climbs through the middle rope into the ring, and moves all way over to Jesse James, getting right in his face and baring his teeth, before imitating biting at him a few times. James only smiles in retaliation, causing Thorn to turn away from him and start pacing in the center of the ring.



The cheers return, as Matt Sydal bounds out from behind the curtain, throwing a peace sign up into the air much to the joy of the crowd. A big smile on his face, he giddily hops down the ramp to the ring, before leaping up onto the apron, and then up onto the turnbuckle with ease, before throwing up another peace sign.

Tony Chimel: From Saint Louis, Missouri... MATT SYDAL!

Tazz: If you remember Sydal got a place in this battle royal after losing his No. 1 Contenders Qualifier last week!

J.R.: And so he should Tazz, it was an unfair loss!

Once in the ring, Sydal nods politely at his two opponents, he gets a slow and somewhat sarcastic nod back from James, but only recieves a scowl in return from Thorn.



Boos again, as Brodus Clay tosses the curtain to one side, a miserable bulldog like expression on his face, as he walks straight through the stage and to the ring, not even bothering to show boat or even acknowledge the fans.

Tony Chimel: Weighing in at... a lot! The Giant Orange... BRODUS CLAY!

He slowly makes his way up the steps and into the ring, where he makes sure to stride over to each of his opponents to display his clear size advantage over them. He smirks nastily, before making his way over to one of the back turnbuckles where he leans, waiting for the next entrant.



Platinum wig on head, and long, flowing golden gown wrapped around him, the magnificent Goldust steps out onto the stage. He smiles and does his signature inhale before moving down the ramp, each step more graceful than the last.

Tony Chimel: From Austin, Texas, the Bizarre One... GOLDUST!

Once in the ring, Goldust lifts himself up onto the turnbuckle, yet again doing his inhale, before he removes his wig, and flicks it into the crowd to some cheers. He smiles, before jumping off the turnbuckle, and joining the others in the ring as they await the next entrant.

The lights turn a bright yellow, leaving the arena in a state of yellow. It feels like everybody in the building has been transported to a yellow purgatory in unison, the only difference being that purgatory would more than likely not be as yellow as this.

Tazz: It's yellow in here, J.R.!

Jim Ross: It sure is, Tazz, that is certainly correct.



Flames rise from the stage, causing the fans to say 'wow'. The heat from the fire heats up the entire arena to an almost unbearable temperature, but then suddenly they are extinguished by a mini tsunami that comes down from the ceiling and washes down the ramp. Midgets rush out from behind the curtain, riding down the wave like they're at a water park. 'Weeeeeeee!' they yell. The midgets get up and arrange themselves in a single file line. In a choreographed manner, they all simulataneously strip off their shirts and pants (and shoes and socks) and then conga around the ring.

Jim Ross: What the hell is this, Tazz? WHAT THE HELL IS IT?

One of the midgets' little feet slips on the now very damp ringside area. He slides towards the commentators table and hits his face on it. Blood is everywhere. The midget slumps down and is immediately carried away by men in black suits. The rest of the midgets continue to dance as if nothing had happened, and no attention is drawn to what just happened by the commentators of the camera team. After the dancing reaches its natural end, the midgets leave. The music stops.

Tazz: I wonder what's gonna happen next.

Jim Ross: I'll be honest with you, Tazz, I have absolutely no idea. I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA, TAZZ



A team of women walk out onto stage wearing the skimpiest outfits allowed to be broadcast on television. They crouch down and then each take it in turns to do a star jump. More bimbo whore sluts appear from behind, but these bimbo whore sluts are carrying a throne. Upon the throne is a man.


The mans' name is Bint Smith.

Tazz: Who in the Hell is that?

Jim Ross: That's Bint Smith. Bah Gawd, it's Bint Smith here in RPW!

Tazz: Bint Smith? What's Bint Smith doing in the RPW zone?

Bint is dressed in a fully white suit, with white tinted shades. He is also wearing a white top hat. He is also carrying a white cane. He is also wearing a white watch. He also has a white belt on with a white buckle on it. His shoes, however, are black. The girls carry him down the ramp, and he blows kisses at the fans who do not know whether to boo or cheer. The girls set down the throne and aid Bint in getting to his feet, they then all form an orderly queue behind him. The music continues to play as this is all happening, I just thought it would be necessary to make that known - so just in case you were wondering, while this is all happening the music is, indeed, still playing, so I hope that clears it up for you. The music is still playing. The girls form a queue in front of Bint, he beckons for the first one to come towards him. The girl in question obediently makes her way towards Bint, gets down on her hands and knees and seductively licks his boot. After doing this for about ten seconds, the girl crawls back up the ramp and to the back.

Jim Ross: What the hell am I watching right now?

Tazz: I don't know, JR, but I can tell you one thing - I'm gonna have to SUPLEX my cock after this show is done.

Jim Ross does not reply to this, as you can probably understand. After every girl has completed the licking boot ceremony. Bint removes his glasses and puls a microphone from his underwear. He taps it a few times and then speaks to the RPW galaxy for the very first time to be honest.

Bint Smith
Hello there.

The way Bint Smith says this is comparable to the way that Obi-Wan Kenobi™ says it after dropping down to surprise General Grievous™ during Star Wars™ Episode III™ Revenge of the Sith™ (2005)

Bint Smith
For those of you who don't know me, my name is Bint Smith. Bint is my name and you'd better believe that Bint is my game. I am the bint of bints. It's bintamania, bintby.

Tazz: Man, this guy sure seems to say the word 'Bint' a lot doesn't he, JR?

Jim Ross: Yes.

Bint Smith circles the ring.

Bint Smith
Why am I here you may ask? The answer to that is simple. I am here to Bint shit up.

Bint directs his attention to a fat, greasy mongoloid man on the front row.

Bint Smith
Do you like wrestling?

The man pauses, his tiny autistic brain desperately scraping for a response to this question. Eventually, he decides on what to say.

Fat Greasy Mongoloid Man
Yes.

Bint Smith
Then why are you not cheering the Bint's name?

Again, Bint waits for a reply. Again, it takes a while.

Fat Greasy Mongoloid Man
I don't know.

Bint Smith
Do it now.

Bint shoves the microphone into the man's pus-filled face. The man begins to cry tears of solemn horror while whimpering "Bint Smith Bint Smith Bint Smith"

Bint Smith
Good job. Now you're coming with me

Bint grabs the man by the collar and forcefully drags him over the barricade. None of the other fans in attendance offer any kind of help in this abduction situation as, you see, none of them care or like him.

Jim Ross: Oh this sick son of a BITCH

The fat man ragdolls onto the ringside area and Bint continues to grab at him. With a mighty tear, Bint rips off the man's shirt and trousers. The man pathetically crawls across the floor in just his y-fronts, but Bint is not done there. Bint grabs the man's underwear and rips them off too. The man curls up into the fetal position, naked.

Tazz: In all my years in this business, I've never seen something like this happen.

The man cries as Bint laughs while kicking him in the ass repeatedly. None of the fans are really making any noise at this point, because it's just getting a bit too weird. This has just gone way too far but Bint doesn't seem to notice, or rather, he doesn't give one single solitary shit. Bint grabs a steel chair from under the ring and rains down constant shots to the back of the naked, sweaty greasy man.

Jim Ross: Someone stop this madness now!

Security rush to the backstage area and push Bint away. They drag the man to the backstage area.



Tony Chimel: And introducing next, JAMIE NOBLE!

Tazz: It's Jamie Noble!

It is actually Jamie Noble. Jamie Noble comes out. It's Jamie Noble.

Bint Smith
This has gotta be some kind of joke. Are you guys binting me here? Jamie Noble? What a bint load of bint.

Jamie Noble maintains eye contact with Bint as he comes down to the ring.

Bint Smith
I'm going to bint you so hard you're gonna wish you'd never been born, kiddo. You understand me? This is my ring now, this is my company. I am God. I am the lord Jesus himself. You are slime, and you would be of much more use to the world if you were skinned alive and fashioned into a pretty medallion, Jamie. You would be better as a fucking medallion. I'm going to BINT you into a MEDALLION.

The crowd begin to chant at Jamie

MEDALLION, MEDALLION, MEDALLION, MEDALLION

Bint Smith
That's right. You get into this ring right now and I promise you, you will not forget the name... Bint... Smith.

A tear falling down his cheek, Jamie Noble slides himself into the ring. Bint readies himself to lay into whoever's coming out next.



The crowd pop as Ambrose's music interupts Bint, taking him off guard. Dean steps out of the curtain, steel chair in hand, lifting it up into the air for even more applause. Bint attempts to continue talking, but realises his mic is cut off, causing Ambrose to grin at him all the way from the stage.

Tony Chimel: From Cincinnati Ohio, weighing in at 225 lbs, the Lunatic Fringe... DEAN AMBROSE!

Ambrose slaps the ground with the chair before he makes his way down to the ring, with that cocky stride that he's known for. Once at the end of the ramp, he places the chair by ringside, before rolling into the ring and walking straight over to Smith. He grabs his microphone from out of his hand, and tosses it out of the ring.

J.R.: And we may just be seeing the winner of this match here with this man, Dean Ambrose!

The crowd continue to cheer The Lunatic as he moves up onto the turnbuckle and further beckons them... until the lights in the arena go out. Ambrose's eyes immediately dart to the stage, as the titantron changes, this time to bright cyan!

Ambrose furiously watches the stage, awaiting who this mystery person could be...
















The crowd go insane! You can barely hear the theme song behind the roaring noise of the fans.

Tazz: WHAT?!

J.R.: IT'S ANGLE! MY GOD IT'S ANGLE!

Tazz: KURT ANGLE HAS COME TO RPW!

Angle makes his way down the ramp as the crowd relentlessly shower him with the most loveable chant of all:

"YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!"

J.R.: This man was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame only days ago and now, HE'S HERE! IN RPW!

Angle walks up the steel steps and enters the ring, where he walks around as intensely as only he can, basking in the warm reception from the crowd. His theme song dies down and the lights change for the next entrant, but Kurt Angle interrupts this.

Kurt Angle
WHOA WHOA WHOA! Hang on one freakin' second!

The crowd cheer and the lights go back to normal.

Kurt Angle
Did you really expect Kurt Angle, the best wrestler in the world, to not address his fans upon his glorious return to televised wrestling?

The crowd cheer, once again.

Kurt Angle
I know what you're thinking. "I thought he was signed to the WWE, now?", "Didn't he just get inducted into the Hall of Fame?", "I thought he was retired!". Well, I've said it once and I'll say it again: I won an Olympic gold medal with a broken freakin' neck, and I'll be God damned if I'm gonna let anybody tell me when to retire, or when not to retire! I'm still the best in the world, and I've still got some long years of breaking ankles and pounding ass ahead of me!

The fans laugh at what Angle just said, even though he probably isn't aware of how it sounded.

Kurt Angle
I went. Yeah, out of respect. Had my little Hall of Fame induction, but it doesn't mean squat. You wanna know what means something?

Angle grabs the gold medal hanging from his neck and flashes it to the camera.

Kurt Angle
Gold means something. Heck, in this business? Gold means everything. And when I heard about a little promotion on the rise called RPW, I thought to myself: "Hey Kurt, why sit here and waste away your last good years when you can go there and be the best of the best 'til you can no longer go, and go out like a real American man?".

The crowd pop at the cheap patriotic remark.

Kurt Angle
And the little Kurt Angle inside my head was absolutely right. The little Kurt Angle inside my head that told me to get on a plane after the ceremony and fly to Connecticut was spot on. The little Kurt Angle inside my head who told me to give ol' Tony Atlas a call and get myself into this freakin' title match was right on the mark.

Angle points at the other contestants.

Kurt Angle
And if you bozos think you've got anything on me because I'm older than you, because I'm more "fragile", well I'll tell you this: You underestimate me tonight, and you're not only gonna walk out of here with nothing around your waists, you're not gonna walk out of here at all. I will personally wheel you out on chairs after we're done.

J.R.: I think the little Kurt Angle inside his head might be broken, Tazz.

Tazz: Shut it, J.R., Kurt Angle can take on any one of these BOZOS whenever he likes!

J.R.: Are you gonna start saying 'bozos' now just because he does?

Angle overhears the commentators talking and aggressively points at them, as his face goes red.

Kurt Angle
HEY SHUT UP, I'M NOT DONE HERE!

Angle turns back to the other contestants.

Kurt Angle
I'm gonna teach you all a little something about experience, tonight. And that's not because it's the only advantage I have on you. I can outskill any of you, I can outwrestle any of you, and you're damn right I can probably freakin' outrun any of you! You're gonna learn why they call me the Trump Card Of The Wrestling Playing Cards Deck!

The crowd seem both confused and driven to hilarity at the term Kurt Angle just made up for himself.

Kurt Angle
Oh, it's true. IT'S DAMN, FREAKIN', TRUE.

Angle drops the mic and puts himself in position, but is quite taken aback as Dean Ambrose steps forward and walks over to him, squaring up to the Gold Medalist. Ambrose looks ready to take a shot at him right there and then, with Angle looking all too ready to take a shot right back. The crowd are going berserk!

J.R.: The crowd wanna see these two men go at it!

Tazz: But wait! Isn't there one more guy?






J.R.: Aww no...

Tazz: JG! It's JG! He's returned to RPW!

The crowd begin to laugh, as the Justin Gabriel mega-fan, and RPW original, JG, jumps out of the curtain to his favourite Nickelback track!

Tazz: Ladies and gents, if you don't know who this man is, let's just say he made a big impression on the old days of RPW!

J.R.: I wouldn't say big impression Tazz, I'm not sure this man ever won a match.

Tazz: Well he may do tonight J.R.!

J.R.: April Fools was yesterday Tazz...

JG excitedly bounds around the stage, the crowd cheering him on, as he pulls a microphone out of his jacket. His eyes are wide and filled with childish glee, as he puts the mic to his lips and points to the ring. The crowd are ready...

Tazz: He's gonna say it J.R.! He's gonna say it!

With the chorus of the whole crowd behind him, JG utters the famous three words...

JG
I'll beat you!

And with an eruption of laughter, JG bolts down the ramp at full speed, like a much less athletically gifted Usain Bolt. He starts running laps around the ring, as his opponents inside the ring all begin to look relatively confused, before he finally climbs up onto the apron. Instead of climbing into the ring, he instead lifts himself up onto the apron, and from there, throws himself head first into the ring, where he splats onto the mat. The crowd look momentarily worried as he lays there, before he leaps to his feet and lets out a giant autistic screech.

Tazz: And that's everyone J.R.! 10 Men!

With everyone in the ring, the bell chimes.

The men inside continue to watch JG, quite perturbed by his weird behaviour. Even Angle and Ambrose have become quite distracted by him. JG makes his way over to the pair, who still stand facing each other, before screeching 'I'll beat you!' at them, to fan approval. Ambrose and Angle both laugh to themselves, before they each grab a handful of JG's hair, and toss him sailing over the top rope, where he plummets into the concrete below.

JG ELIMINATED

Tazz: Aww! That was fast!

J.R.: Thank God.

An audible 'aww' comes from the crowd, but it's quickly forgotten as Ambrose and Angle turn back to look at one another once again. Once Ambrose throws a hook across Angle's jaw, JG has been all but forgotten, and the crowd are once again thrown into a frenzy. The pair trade blows back and forth, slugging each other as hard as they can.

Tazz: Ambrose did say he'd go right after the man who cost him last week!

The rest of the ring are then thrown into action. Bint cracks an elbow into Noble's jaw, sending him down to the mat. Road Dogg and Thorn lock up, pushing themselves up into the corner. Brodus Clay flattens Goldust with a clothesline, before Sydal plants an enziguiri into the side of the big man's face. Meanwhile, Angle and Ambrose continue to go at it.

Angle gets the upperhand, managing to outlast Ambrose in the series of punches, and gets more and more in on the Lunatic's face. He finishes off the exchange with an uppercut, sending Ambrose back into the ropes... but he pretends to fall through them and hangs on, pulling himself back in for a lariat! Angle ducks it! German Suplex! Ambrose's head ricochets off the floor as he's planted down, before he rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope.

Tazz: Knew it wouldn't be long before we saw those suplexes with Angle!

Thorn ambushes Angle from behind, clubbing him in the back of the head with an axe handle. He starts to lift Angle back to his feet, but the Olympian is quicker, he moves around Thorn's back... ANGLE SLAM! The crowd cheer as Thorn rolls away, dazed. Goldust now runs at him, attempting a clothesline, but Angle ducks that too... another ANGLE SLAM!

By the turnbuckle, Smith lands punch after punch into the head of Sydal, knocking the smaller man dizzy. He backs up and takes a run up, going for a splash, but Sydal moves out of the way, causing Smith to crash stomach first. He turns around, and he's hit by a head scissor from the smaller man! Bint slowly starts to get to his feet, as Sydal bounds off the ropes ready to hit him with another move whilst he's down... BIG BOOT from JESSE JAMES! Sydal flops to the mat as Road Dogg stands over him.

Bint's up to his feet and spins James around, but is greeted by a swift left jab to the face. The crowd start to cheer as James follows up with another one, and then a third, signifying it's Shake, Rattle, and Roll time as he starts to dance around. Bint remains dazed, as James lands on final left hook into his face, sending him down to the mat. He picks Bint up, and tosses him in the direction of the ropes, but Smith is able to hold onto the ropes and stop himself from being eliminated.

J.R.: Bint clutching on! Cat-like agility there!

Brodus Clay holds Noble over his shoulder, lifting him like he's nothing, before scoop slamming him nastily to the floor. He turns around, and comes face to face with Angle, who bares his gum shield at the Giant Orange before planting a hook across his jaw, sending spit flying out of his mouth. Angle follows up with punch after punch, before Clay snarls and retaliates with a headbutt, knocking the Olympian backwards to the mat.

Clay moves over to him and lifts him up and onto his shoulder, similarly to Noble, and starts towards the ropes, preparing to dump him over. But last minute, Angle slips off, sending Clay into the ropes instead. Clay clutches the top rope to stop himself going over, but Angle grabs Clay by the legs... Angle lifts Clay up by the legs! And demonstrating huge strength, he dumps him over the top rope!

BRODUS CLAY ELIMINATED

J.R.: The strength from Angle! Clay's eliminated!

Angle roars as the crowd cheer him, before turning around to find his next target... BOOM! Chairshot to the head! Angle hits the mat as Ambrose stands over him, steel chair back in hand! Ambrose feels a hand on his shoulder, but quickly turns around and slams the chair into the head of whoever it could be. It's James, and he crashes to the mat just as quickly as Angle.

Ambrose spots Noble on the other side of the ring, using the ropes to help himself get to his feet. He readies the chair, and waits for Noble to stand up... the little man does, and Ambrose charges at him... SMASH! Ambrose cracks the chair over Noble's skull, the impact knocking him right over the top rope and to the concrete floor.

JAMIE NOBLE ELIMINATED

Tazz: Bye bye Medallion!

The crowd cheer the elimination, as Ambrose raises the chair again. He turns around and moves over to a still recuperating Angle, and bats him over the back with the chair again, before throwing it down next to him. He lifts Angle to his feet, and hooks both his arms behind his back, looking ready to plant him down with a Dirty Deeds right onto the steel chair...

Angle slips out of it! ANGLE SLAM! RIGHT ONTO THE CHAIR! Ambrose grits his teeth in pain as he clutches his back, before rolling into the corner.

Tazz: That's gotta hurt!

Angle's flipped around... SAMOAN DROP by Bint Smith! The crowd boo as Smith starts to taunt, until he yells in pain as Sydal starts to land kicks into his leg. Smith attempts to stop Sydal with a punch, but he ducks under it, and plants a backflip kick across Smith's head. As Bint hits the ropes and bounds back, Sydal waits for him, ready to hit him on the rebound... but Thorn locks him up from behind... FULL NELSON SLAM on SYDAL!

Thorn starts to aggressively stomp on Sydal on the floor, with Smith patting Thorn on the back in a friendly manner before he too joins in on the stomping. Upon the pat, Thorn looks up at Smith, a smile emerging on his face, before he pats Bint back on the shoulder, as he continues to stomp Sydal.

Thorn and Bint are turned around... Jesse James and Goldust unload into them with punches, James on Thorn, Goldust on Bint. In sync with one another, they irish whip Thorn and Smith into the ropes, and on the rebound, hit a Big Boot and a Clothesline respectively. Thorn rolls into the corner, as James follows him, continuing to punch him, whilst Goldust lifts Smith to his feet. He locks him up for a suplex, and the crowd start to cheer...

FINAL CUT! He plants Bint down with that vertical spinning suplex to an applause from the crowd! Goldust inhales again, in the direction of Bint to mock him, until something by ringside catches his eye. The crowd start to boo, as Howell Saxon leaps over the barrier and heads towards the ring.

J.R.: No! What's he doing here!?

Goldust charges at Howell, swiping at him and knocking him away before he can even climb up onto the apron. Goldust leans over the rope and starts yelling at Saxon, who yells right back at him.

Thorn sneaks up behind Goldust! He pushes him over the top rope, and Goldust tumbles to the floor!

J.R.: NO!

GOLDUST ELIMINATED

The crowd boo as Goldust falls at Saxon's feet. Howell takes a couple of steps back, before lifting up his trouser leg, and exposing the metal lacing in his shin pad...

J.R.: No! Get outta here! This isn't even your match!

Goldust starts to get to his feet...

SHIN KICK TO THE FACE!

Goldust collapses to the floor as Saxon laughs, the crowd hissing venomously at Saxon. Jeremy Stevens bolts down the ramp from backstage, charging straight for Saxon with a look of pure anger on his face, and Saxon leaps back over the barricade and starts running through the crowd, back up the steps.

J.R.: That coward!

Tazz: He's sending a message J.R.! He's sending a message to Stevens.

Stevens starts to follow him, but aware that Saxon has a head start, gives up quickly. Stevens glares up at Saxon, who has made it to one of the fire exits, smiling at Jeremy mockingly. Howell salutes him, and shouts 'See you in the main event!' before he exits through the door. Stevens, red faced and furious, turns to his friend who lays limp on the concrete. Officials surround Goldust, and with the help of them and his friend, they carry him backstage.

In the ring, The Road Dogg and The Cannibal are exchanging punches, the crowd cheering James, and booing Thorn, even angrier at him now for his cheap elimination of fan favourite Goldust. Thorn squawks, as he grabs James by the head, before attempting to sink his teeth into his forehead, but James pushes him away, before landing a dropkick into his face. James lifts Thorn, and gets him into position for a Piledriver...

But Smith cracks him in the head from behind with a forearm! James tries to recuperate, but Bint keels him over with a gutkick, before lifting him up, and planting him down with a BINT-BOMB! He and Thorn look at one another, and give a smile to one another, as they turn around and see that Angle is starting to get to his feet. The two charge the Olympian and start stomping on him, knocking him back down to the mat.

J.R.: We're seeing a weird alliance here with these two...

Tazz: But a successful one!

THWACK! SYDAL WITH A SPRINGBOARD HEEL KICK to the side of Bint's Head! Bint goes tumbling to the mat as Sydal turns on a startled Thorn, TORNADO KICK! Thorn's head snaps backwards as Sydal tries to capitalise! He locks Thorn up in a reverse DDT position, and lifts up his leg over Thorn's neck! SPLIT LEG DROP DDT!

With Thorn down in perfect position, Sydal moves over to the turnbuckle, climbing it quickly...

Tazz: That's not where you wanna go in a match like this!

Sydal gets in position and throws up a peace sign, the crowd are ecstatic...

BUT BINT CHARGES HIM! He crashes an elbow in Sydal's face, knocking him backwards off of the turnbuckle, and all the way to the concrete outside!


MATT SYDAL ELIMINATED

Tazz: Told ya!

Thorn shakes his head, trying to get rid of his dazedness, as Smith helps him to his feet. The two start to converse with one another, pointing at their three remaining opponents, and deciding which one to target next. The two come to a mutual decision to go for James.

The crowd boo loudly as the pair approach The Road Dogg, lifting him to his feet... but JAMES FIGHTS BACK! Left jab to Thorn! Left jab to Bint! A double jab to both of them! And another! The crowd go wild as James starts to do his dance again, before planting a huge left into the face of Thorn, knocking him to the mat! He sizes up Bint, and crashes him down with a left too!

J.R.: A double Shake, Rattle, and Roll!

Thorn and Smith slowly start to make their way to their feet, and James is waiting for them. He grabs them both by the head, and locks them both up in a DDT position...


NO! Bint and Thorn reverse it! Together, they lift James up onto their shoulders and charge at the ropes! James can't fight back! The two dump him straight over the top rope and to the concrete below!



JESSE JAMES ELIMINATED

J.R.: Aww no!

Tazz: And the crowd are not pleased about that one!

J.R.: Neither am I!

Boos fill the air now for Smith and Thorn, as they stand tall above their other two opponents. The pair notice Angle starting to get to his feet, and Thorn looks worried. Bint points at Angle and gives some orders to Thorn, who nods his head as he moves over to the Olympian, traps both of his arms behind his back, and lifts him to his feet. Bint meanwhile, grabs the steel chair...

Thorn holds Angle in place, as Bint raises the chair above his head, and charges at Angle! SLAM! He crashes the chair straight down onto Angle's head, and Thorn lets him go, watching him crash to the mat limply.

Tazz: Wow... that actually worked...

The Cannibal laughs, and points over Bint's shoulder at Ambrose, who also looks to be getting to his feet. Bint tells Thorn to repeat the same process. Thorn moves over and grabs Ambrose, who starts to land punches into Thorn's rib... but Thorn knocks him down with a double axe handle into his back! He grabs both of Ambrose's arms and holds them behind his back, before lifting him up in front of him for Smith.

Smith lifts the chair again, and after another run up, swings the chair... CRACK! Straight into the skull of Ambrose!

Tazz: And again! We seem to have found a surprisingly good team here with these two.

As Ambrose slumps to the mat, Thorn roars with laughter. There's a huge, genuine, happy smile on his face that's never before been seen on the man, looking like a small child on Christmas. He looks up at Bint, and actually raises his hand for a high five. Bint smiles right back at him, and crashes the chair over Thorn's head.

Tazz: Knew it wasn't long before we were seeing that!

J.R.: You can't trust a man like Bint Smith.

Thorn drops to the mat, as Bint tosses the chair to the floor next to him. He lifts the unconcious Cannibal up, and throws him into the ropes. Thorn crashes into the top rope, before flopping over onto the apron, and thudding onto the concrete.



THORN ELIMINATED

Bint turns back around into the ring, where his two opponents lay on the mat, causing him to grin. He slowly makes his way over to the steel chair and picks it back up, before he moves over to Angle, and rains down on him with chair shots. Angle writhes around in pain on the mat once Smith is done, who then turns his attention instead to the Lunatic. He moves over to Ambrose, and repeats the same to him, chair shot after chair shot into his back as he lays on the mat.

Angle starts to get to his feet, and the crowd cheer his resilience. Bint starts charging back towards him angrily, ready to bring down more chair shots...

But Angle swiftly gets behind him! GERMAN SUPLEX!

The chair flies out of Bint's hands as he lands neck first into the mat. Smith almost bounces back to his feet as he clutches his neck in pain, falling back into the ropes. Before he can shake away his dizzyness, Angle charges at him... CLOTHESLINE! Bint goes sailing over the top rope and out of the ring! The crowd explode into cheers!



BINT SMITH ELIMINATED

Tazz: And it's down to two!

J.R.: Two men! Kurt Angle! Dean Ambrose! Only one of these men can become the first ever RPW Extreme Champion!

Angle falls backwards into the turnbuckle, where he rests. Across the ring from him, against the other turnbuckle, is Dean Ambrose, still glaring that same hole through him with those fiery eyes that he did at the start of the match! The crowd excitement is renewed!

The pair charge each other! Ambrose goes for a lariat, but Kurt ducks, the momentum driving the pair into the apposing turnbuckles. Ambrose puts his foot up on the middle turnbuckle, and uses it to push right back at the Olympian... Running Cross Body! This time it connects and Angle crashes to the mat with the Lunatic on top of him!

Ambrose lifts Angle to his feet and hooks both his arms behind his back... he's going for it... DIRTY DEEDS!

NO! Angle back body drops Ambrose over his head! Ambrose scurries to his feet... ANGLE SLAM! No! An elbow to the head stops it! Angle's dazed, and Ambrose bounds off the ropes... SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE! Angle goes down to the mat! With Angle down, Ambrose measures him... STANDING ELBOW DROP!

NO! Angle moves out of the way and Ambrose crashes to the mat! Angle moves around to Ambrose's legs... ANKLE LOCK! HE LOCKS IT IN!

J.R.: Ankle Lock! He has him in the Ankle Lock!

Tazz: But you can't tap out in a match like this J.R.!

Ambrose roars in pain as Angle applies more and more pressure to his ankle, with Ambrose slowly and painstakingly making his way over to the ropes. He crawls slowly, before reaching out and grabbing the bottom rope, but thanks to the match being a battle royal, Angle has no need to let go. He continues to keep the hold locked in, as Ambrose lifts himself up with the ropes, clutching onto the top rope...

Ambrose throws himself over the top rope, bringing Angle who still has a hold of his ankle with him! The pair of them tumble over the top rope, but both land successfully on the apron, able to hold onto the ropes and keep themselves in the match. The crowd are on the edge of their seats, as on the apron, Angle and Ambrose trade blows, both of them teetering, but neither falling.

Angle knocks Ambrose back with an uppercut, but the Lunatic replies with a gut kick, and then lands a nasty elbow into the jaw of Angle. ANGLE FALLS BACK! But he holds onto the second rope, and keeps himself in...

Ambrose uses the opportunity to climb back into the ring. He moves over to the steel chair that lays in the middle, picking it up, a wild contorted expression on his face as he turns back towards the Olympian.

Angle meanwhile uses the second rope to pull himself back onto the apron. He lifts himself up, and turns around...

AMBROSE RUNS AT HIM WITH THE CHAIR! HE SWINGS IT AT ANGLE'S HEAD!

BUT ANGLE DODGES! The chair goes flying out of Ambrose's grasp, as Angle locks both of his arms around Ambrose...

OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY! Ambrose soars right over Kurt's head to the outside!






DEAN AMBROSE ELIMINATED

The bell rings!

Kurt Angle defeats 9 Others in 21:02



J.R.: ANGLE'S DONE IT! BY GOD HE'S DONE IT!

Tazz: KURT ANGLE'S OUR FIRST EVER RPW EXTREME CHAMPION!

The crowd go nuts! Angle falls back through the middle rope into the ring, where he clambers back to his feet via the ropes, and raises his hand in victory. It's clear the brutal match took a lot out of him, and it took a lot for him to win, and the noise from the crowd shows just how much they appreciate it.

Tony Chimel: The winner of the match, and first ever RPW Extreme Champion... KURT ANGLE!

The referee moves over to Angle with the prestigious RPW Extreme Championship belt in hand, before handing it to him. Angle roars, gum shield on show, as he lifts the Championship high above his head in victor! The crowd are beside themselves, as Angle gets down to his knees, looking the belt in the face, letting it wash over him that he has become the first ever RPW Extreme Champion! It is on this day, that Angle has made RPW History!

Ambrose shakes his head angrily as he moves up the ramp to the back, not even bothering to acknowledge his opponents victory. Angle meanwhile continues to look at the belt, before getting back to his feet, moving over to the turnbuckle, and lifting the Championship high above his head again. It's with this image that we stay, before the cameras fade out.

As the cheers from the crowd start to die down, the Titantron goes black for a moment, before turning into a video of the RPW World Championship. It is sitting on a black pedestal, with a singular light shining down on it. Then, a voice is heard over the speakers.

Jeremy Stevens
Bance.

A small video of Bance holding up the title is shown.

Jeremy Stevens
Christian.

Again, a video of Christian is shown.

Jeremy Stevens
Matt Hardy, Big Daddy V.

After each name is said, similar videos are shown.

Jeremy Stevens
All of these great Champions, who have all in turn tried to change RPW in one way or another, and have all held this prestigious title with great honour and respect, And next in line to do so will be...

A video of Jeremy Stevens is shown, doing a Phoenix Splash.

Jeremy Stevens
Jeremy. Stevens.

The crowd cheers, hoping this will be true by the end of the night. More videos and short clips of Jeremy Stevens keep playing.

Jeremy Stevens
I have come here to RPW for many reasons, one of these reasons is to create history, start my legacy in this business, and what would be a better way to do exactly that, than to be the first World Champion of the new and revised RPW World Champion. But, before I can do any of this, I have to go through one man. Howell. Saxon.

The Video changes to show some of the nastier things he has done over the past few weeks, including kicking Stevens on the face.

Jeremy Stevens
Howell, I'd like to consider my self a nice guy, and I done hate many people in this world if any, but by god, I can't stand you, and I hate you more than any other person I have met in my whole life. I cant stand the mere look on that smug face of yours when you seem to be getting the upper hand or the fact that you couldn't care less how badly your hurt and injure others or the way you disrespect the authorities here or the look in your eyes when you see a target that you think will be easy pickings or the fact that you don't care about the fans or the thought that you seem to think that the easiest way to the top is to bully and degrade everybody that you come across and that pisses me off! But the worst part is the fact..

Stevens voice gets angrier and angrier as he lists more of his reasons, but he stops to calm himself down, and starts talking in a very calm voice.

Jeremy Stevens
Is the fact that because of these reasons, you have a chance to start the new lineage of the RPW World Championship.

The video changes to show a man sitting on a stool, wearing a sweater with the hood covering his face. Then he pulls the hood down to reveal it's Jeremy Stevens. The camera zooms in on his face a little bit.

Jeremy Stevens
This pisses me off because you don't want to do this for the company. You don't give a damn how well this company does in the long run. All you care about is how you end up looking when the dust settles, and the blood is cleared. And all this will lead to your down fall Saxon, because since you don't care, and you are so selfish, that pisses me off and angers me so much that I feel like I have to win for the betterment of the fans and this company because I know that you don't care about anything besides how the title will make you look.

Jeremy takes a deep breath.

Jeremy Stevens
Howell Saxon. Only one man can leave here tonight as the new RPW World Champion, and I'm going to do everything in my control to make sure that man is not you, and I will make sure that this Championship ends up in its rightful place. Saxon, we will both leave that ring as changed men, but only one can leave Champion, and I can say, with the utmost certainty. That man will not be you.

The camera fades to black as Jeremy Stevens stands up and walks out of the frame.



Tony Atlas walks out through the curtain onto the stage, a big smile on his face as he's given a warm welcome by the crowd. He laughs to himself, letting them get it out of their system, before he finally puts the microphone to his lips, and starts to speak.

Tony Atlas
Well you are excited tonight aren't ye! HE HE HE HA HE HO HE!

The crowd laugh along with Atlas.

Tony Atlas
Well I'm excited too! You know why? Because we're about to see the first RPW World Champion crowned in 4 years!

The crowd cheer.

Tony Atlas
In fact, it'll be the first time the belt will have changed hands in almost 5! My friend Nelson held that championship for almost a year back in 2013! And y'know, he never lost it neither! Now, you RPW vets may know who I'm talking about, none other than the man himself, Big Daddy V!

A warm response to Big Daddy V's name fills the crowd. Atlas looks quite overcome by the lovely reaction for his late friend.

Tony Atlas
That's right, there's some damn big boots to fill when you become RPW World Champion! So to whoever wins the belt tonight, and I know this may only need saying to one of the competitors, but you better respect it! This isn't just some good luck, thanks for trying medal at the end of a fun run! It is a prestigious honour to hold a belt like this! People have fought and nail to hold this belt! People have died for it! So if at the end of the night, you end up with it around your waist, you better understand how big of a deal that is!

The crowd applaud the passionate speech from Atlas.

Tony Atlas
So, without further ado, I present to you... the RPW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!

Out of the curtain, Scott Green wheels the RPW World Championship belt out on a podium of it's own. The crowd pop, especially the old school RPW fans, seeing that it's the same classic belt as always. The black strap, the golden face, the giant RPW letters stretching across it.

Atlas gives one last smile, before moving back through the curtain to backstage, as Scott Green wheels the RPW World Championship to ringside. With the stage empty, the crowd wait in anticipation for the next person to enter.



Monstrous boos fill the arena in anticipation for the man about to step out of the curtain, Howell Saxon. The 'Real Hardworking Sportsman' steps out in his usual Judo ring-wear, and that usual nasty cocksure smile on his face, pleased with himself seemingly after what he did earlier to Goldust.

Tazz: This could be our RPW World Champion by the end of the night J.R.!

J.R.: I hope to God not Tazz.

Saxon snarls at the fans on either side of him, as he slowly makes his way down the ramp, purposely taking longer than he needs so that he can spend more time looking down his nose at those in the front row. Once by ringside, instead of climbing right into the ring, he instead moves all the way around to where the RPW World Championship Belt is being kept, and smirks as he points to it, before gesturing around his waist.

Howell rolls under the bottom rope into the ring, getting into the ring and circling around the mat, beckoning on the boos with a smile. He closes his eyes and pretends as though the boos are soothing him, causing the rather idiotic crowd to play into his hand and boo even louder. Howell chuckles to himself, before shaking his head, and resting against the ring ropes.



The boos turn to massive cheers, as Stevens slowly walks out of the curtain onto the stage, an angry expression on his face as he shoots daggers through Saxon. In time with the music kicking in, he slaps the stage floor, windmills his arm, and upon doing the fist bump, fireworks blast out of the stage around him!

J.R.: This is more like it! This kid's passionate about the company! He loves and respects the crowd!

Tazz: But he's already lost to Saxon once, we might see a repeat of that again tonight!

J.R.: Yeah well it's No Disqualification tonight too, so all of those nasty and cheap tactics Saxon's used to win over the last few weeks, Stevens can throw right back at him.

Stevens moves down the ramp with speed, ensuring to high five as many fans as he can. Once down to ringside, he continues to circle the ring, high fiving all of the fans in the front row, but stopping when he reaches the RPW World Championship. He looks at it in all of it's glory, before pointing at it, and then at himself, causing the crowd to cheer. Stevens gives a big smile, happy to have such large crowd support, before jumping up into the ring.

Once in the ring, Stevens climbs up onto the turnbuckle, and yet again does his windmill fist bump taunt. But Saxon attacks him from behind, clubbing him in the back with a fist! Stevens falls forward onto the turnbuckle, as Saxon drags him off of it, and throws him to the mat.

J.R.: Oh no! Already!

Tazz: It's no DQ J.R.! You said it yourself!

The bell rings!

Stevens struggles to try and get back to his feet, as Saxon throws elbow after elbow into his back. Stevens kicks at Saxon, trying to push him away, but Howell grabs one of Stevens legs, and drops a knee on it! Stevens grits his teeth in pain, as Saxon continues to hold the leg, dropping an elbow on it, before locking Stevens up in a leg lock!

Stevens kicks at Saxon, but he only lets go of the leg lock when he wants to. With Stevens wriggling about on the mat in pain, Saxon climbs out of the ring, and lifts up the apron cover to look for a weapon. With a smile on his face, Saxon pulls out a Kendo Stick!

Tazz: Bringing out the weapons early!

Howell rolls back into the ring, and points the Kendo Stick at Stevens leg, before taking aim, and slamming it down! But it misses! Stevens moves his leg, and when the stick hits the mat, he kicks it out of Howell's hands. Saxon looks angry, but Stevens rolls to his feet, and plants a spinning wheel kick across the mouth of Saxon, sending him to the mat. Stevens moves over and picks up the Kendo Stick himself, a big smile on his face as he takes aim at Saxon, the crowd loud with anticipation...

Saxon turns around...

And Stevens cracks the Kendo Stick into his stomach! Saxon gags as he keels over, before Stevens brings it down over his back, sending him face first to the mat. Saxon rolls over onto his back, and with the Kendo Stick in hand, Stevens performs a standing moonsault, landing onto Saxon with the Kendo Stick! Both men are clearly in pain following the move, but it's Stevens who came off the best, as he hooks Saxon's leg...

1...

Kickout!

Stevens lifts Saxon to his feet, and irish whips him against the ropes, Saxon bounds back, and Stevens hits the mat, causing Saxon to jump over him and hit the ropes again! When Saxon bounds back for a second time, Stevens waits for him with a big hurricanrana! But Howell catches his legs! He lifts Stevens up into a powerbomb position, before falling backwards, and sending Stevens face first to the floor with an Inverted Electric Chair Facebuster!

Tazz: Saxon bringing some new moves into his arsenal!

J.R.: That did not look pretty for Stevens!

Saxon picks up the Kendo Stick, and waits for Stevens to get to his feet... Stevens does so... and Saxon drills the Kendo Stick over his head! Stevens rolls around on the mat, groggily, but is picked up into a headlock position by Saxon, who gets ready to land his usual elbows into Stevens head, but instead smiles as he raises the Kendo Stick, and instead opts for slamming the end of the Kendo Stick into Stevens head over and over. Eventually, he lets Stevens out of the headlock, causing him to flop to the mat, where Howell covers him...

1...

2..

Kickout!

J.R.: Phew!

Howell furiously bats the mat with his hands, before rolling Stevens onto his front, and driving multiple elbows into his back, before locking him up in a Camel Clutch! Stevens grunts in pain as he reaches towards the ropes to try and break it, before realising the match is a No DQ, and quickly deciding against the idea. Instead, he pushes up against the mat with his feet, knocking Saxon off balance, before rolling through and pushing Saxon away from him.

Saxon turns around angrily, as Stevens props himself up against the ropes. Howell charges at him, flying through the air with a Jumping Reverse Turning Kick! But Stevens ducks, and Saxon collides with the top rope, crashing over it, smacking his back onto the apron, and thudding to the concrete outside!

Howell uses the barricade to pull himself to his feet, coming face to face with a child fan, in a Jeremy Stevens shirt, and defiantly holding up a sign that says 'Go Stevens!' as he stares bravely at Saxon. Howell chuckles, before ripping the homemade sign out of the child's hands, and tearing it in half in front of him. The kid looks overcome with emotion, almost in tears, as Saxon continues to laugh, before turning around...

STEVENS SOARS OVER THE TOP ROPE! FLIPPING RIGHT ONTO SAXON! The pair smash to the concrete floor, Stevens landing right on top of the head of Saxon! The crowd explode with cheers, as Jeremy gets to his feet and turns to the upset child fan, before pulling off one of his wrist bands, and placing it in the child's hand. The kid looks beside himself with excitement, as Jeremy pats him on the head before turning to attend to the groggy Saxon.

J.R.: There's two kinds of people...

He grabs Saxon and lifts him to his feet, before irish whipping him into the steel steps, causing Saxon's shoulder to bounce off of them nastily. Howell remains in a sitting position against the steps, as Stevens charges towards him, and dropkicks Saxons head straight into steel! Howell goes crosseyed, stars spinning around his noggin, before collapses to the concrete.

Stevens roots around under the ring apron, and gives a big smile, before he pulls out... a table! The crowd pop, as Stevens props up the table against the barricade, before he moves over to Saxon and lifts him to his feet. Stevens wraps his arms around Saxon's waist, and measures him against the table, getting ready to plant him through it with a German Suplex...

But Saxon throws a headbutt back into Stevens face, causing him to let go of the hold, before he follows up with a Ridge Hand! Stevens collapses to the concrete, as Howell stumbles backwards into the ring post, gaining his bearings. Stevens slowly gets to his feet, until a vicious Roundhouse Kick sends him back down! Saxon moves over to the ring apron and starts searching under it, and to a chorus of boos, pulls out a steel chair.

J.R.: Aww no!

He measures it against Stevens head, and goes to strike... but Stevens hits a dropkick! The chair smashes up into Saxon's face, knocking him stumbling backwards, the chair slipping out of his grip. He holds his lip, before looking up to see Stevens now holds the chair, and before Howell can even do anything, Stevens smashes it over his head. Saxon lays dazed on the concrete, as Jeremy climbs up onto the apron...

SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT!

It misses! Saxon dodges last second and Jeremy crashes into the barricade!

Tazz: That's gotta hurt!

Jeremy lays holding his stomach on the floor, as Saxon looks from Stevens, to the propped up table next to him, and grins as he starts to back up. With some distance between himself and Stevens, he measures the High Flyer, as he waits for him to get to his feet and stand perfectly in front of the propped up table...

Stevens slowly gets to his feet, Howell charges... Stevens turns around...

JUMPING WHEEL KICK! SAXON AND STEVENS BOTH CRASH THROUGH THE TABLE!

Tazz: HOLY SHIT!

J.R.: BOTH MEN CRASH THROUGH THE TABLE!

The pair lay in a heap on the floor, surrounded by shattered bits of table, both looking equally out of it. The crowd are excited at the amazing act, but also rain down boos on Saxon for the fact that it was him who performed it. And it's Howell who's first to his feet. He lifts a limp Stevens to his feet, and rolls him into the ring, before following him inside. Saxon smiles as he crawls over to an unconcious Stevens, and hooks his leg...

Tazz: This could be it...

J.R.: No! No!


1...



2...





...KICKOUT!

J.R.: YES! YES!

The crowd roar with cheers as Stevens gets his arm up just in time! Saxon stomps around the ring furious, before throwing stomp after stomp into Jeremy's mid-section, and then a series of elbows to his face. He goes for another cover...

1...


2...


...Kickout again!

Saxon is furious, and so backs up into a corner, before bending down, and with a giant grin on his face, lifts up his trouser leg. He has on a different shin pad from the one he stripped to deliver the kick to Goldust earlier, but nonetheless, rips off the protection, and bears the metal lacing. The crowd are harsh with boos, as Saxon beckons Stevens to get to his feet...

Stevens does...


SHIN KICK TO THE FACE!

NO! Stevens ducks it!

Saxon turns around! Stevens bounds off the ropes!

RUNNING KNEE STRIKE!

J.R.: RUNNING KNEE! IT'S OVER!

It hits! He smashes his knee straight into Saxon's head! Howell crashes to the mat!

Stevens goes to cover him, but Saxon rolls himself out of the ring yet again, not allowing Jeremy to do so. But Stevens doesn't let Saxon catch his breath, and hurtles himself over the top rope, crashing down on Saxon with a Cross Body! With Howell down on the mat, Stevens reaches under the ring apron yet again, and again to cheers, pulls out another table!

Saxon slowly gets to his feet, but Stevens smacks the end of the table into his face, before sliding it into the ring, and throwing Saxon in after it. Stevens climbs in after them, and starts throwing kicks to Saxon as he tries to pull himself to his feet, knocking him back to the mat. Stevens moves over to the table, and starts to set it up in the middle of the ring.

With the table set up, Stevens smile as he turns around to find Saxon, but he's already on him! Saxon grabs Stevens by the head, and slams it into the edge of the table, causing it to bounce off brutally! Saxon then lifts Stevens up on his shoulders in an Oklahoma position! He points at the table, as the crowd roar with disaproval...

Saxon charges at the table...



BUT STEVENS SLIPS OFF HIS SHOULDERS!

He pushes Saxon stomach first into the side of the table, keeling over the Sportsman, before he turns around into an Enziguiri! A dazed Saxon flops backwards onto the table, where he positions on it's surface quite nicely. Stevens moves over, and lifts him up so he lays perfectly across the table, before he quickly heads for the turnbuckle!

The crowd are beside themselves yet again, as Stevens starts to climb to the top rope! He measures Saxon on the table, before standing up right on the top turnbuckle! He performs his signature windmill taunt, before turning around...



PHOENIX SPLASH!



SAXON MOVES!


STEVENS CRASHES THROUGH THE TABLE!

Tazz: STEVENS CRASHES THROUGH THE TABLE!

J.R.: NO! OH GOD THE HUMANITY!

Stevens lays in a mess amidst the wooden shrapnel that was once the table, with Saxon looking equally out of it on the other side of the ring, only just able to force a smile onto his face.

With the aid of the turnbuckle, Saxon pulls himself to his feet, before beckoning for Stevens to get up. He pulls up his trouser leg yet again, and stuffs it behind his shin pad, getting ready for that nasty shin kick...

The fans yell and scream for Stevens to watch out as he slowly picks himself to his feet, not aware of what awaits behind him...

Tazz: It's coming J.R.!

J.R.: STEVENS LOOK OUT!

He turns...



SHIN KICK TO THE FACE!

J.R.: NO!

Stevens crumples to the mat underneath Saxon, who collapses down on top of him! Saxon hooks Stevens leg for the pin...

1...




2...




...3!

Howell Saxon defeats Jeremy Stevens in 27:54

Tazz: Saxon did it! He's our champ!

J.R.: NO! God dammit!

The crowd are heartbroken as they watch Saxon raise himself above Stevens, victorious in the contest. Saxon chuckles to himself, as the referee moves over to him, and hands him the RPW World Championship! Saxon snatches it out of the referees hand, and holds it high above his head.

The crowd are up on their feet, faces scrunched up in anger, booing Saxon as loudly as they can from the bottom of their lungs. It's by far the loudest set of boos that Saxon has heard so far, and perhaps indeed that RPW has ever heard as well. It seems to only fuel Saxon though, as his smile grows bigger and bigger the more they grow.

Tazz: The first man to be crowned with the belt in 4 years!

J.R.: And he couldn't be less deserving...

Saxon grabs the referee who looks ready to exit the ring, and yells orders at him. The referee looks confused, until Saxons stuffs the RPW Championship Belt into his hands, lifts up his arms, and demands that the referee fasten it around his waist. The referee hesitantly does as he's told, tightening the belt around Saxon's waist.

Howell looks down at it with a gleeful smile, patting the belt with both hands, and raising his arms to more fan disaproval. Finally, Saxon moves out of the ring, and starts to walk back up the ramp, his eyes glued to the belt around his waist, awestruck by it. Once at the stage, he turns around again, and raises his hands once more, yelling 'I told you so! I told you!'.

In the ring, Stevens starts to come to his senses, a large red mark on his face where Saxon landed the shin kick. He looks overcome with disapointment as he looks up at Saxon on the stage, before he rests back down on the mat, head in hands.

We get one last shot of Saxon on the stage, a closeup of his grinning mush, as he speaks directly to the camera. "Like it or not, I am your RPW World Champion." he says, before the show fades out.

END