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Roleplaying Currently OPEN for: ACT OF DEFIANCE 2018
/ Rainbow in the Dark
« Last post by TagChampCruci on January 16, 2018, 09:02:56 PM »
Note: Thanks to Duane and Robert for letting me use their characters in this RP. I want this to be a good stopping point for me mentally, as I've already explained everything going on lately in my life, but hopefully things start to get better, and I'm so grateful for everyone's support and prayers while I've been going through this. You're all amazing people, and I'm glad to not only have you as fellow roster members,
 but to have you all as friends.

Bynum Run Park
Bel Air, Maryland
December 12, 2017, 10:24 am local time

“I don’t like this,” Amelia Hall muttered as she sat in the passenger seat, looking through the windshield at the figure standing on one of the wooden platforms on the left side of the small lake.

“Still time to go back, Ames. He hasn’t seen us yet.” The voice of Will Prydor, seemingly calm, hid the fact that he was scanning the area looking for threats. After some of the events in his life, it was hard to fault him for that.

“No...I said I’d meet the guy. Don’t want you thinking less of me for going back on my word.”

“Fair enough. Want me to come with?”

She paused, thinking. “I should keep this between he and I. But if this is a trap I won’t be able to get away.” She rattled the crutches that stood between her legs. “Probably be best if you did come along.”

“All right. Let’s get this done with then.” With a flick of his wrist, Will killed the engine of his car, the sound of vehicles driving behind him on state route 22 the primary source of noise in the area as he and Amelia exited the vehicle, Amelia decidedly slower. As she closed her door, the faint sound of a bell could be heard from the John Carroll School at the top of the adjoining hill, almost reminding the now-former wrestler of what had happened to her a few months ago as a bell signaled the life she’d known coming to a violent and painful end.

From his perch on the platform, Brian Crucifix turned his head, finally spotting the two, and Will forced a sigh from his lips. “Showtime.”

Amelia simply nodded as she moved towards the handicap access path, with Will staying a step or two behind her at all times. This was her show, after all, and he wasn’t about to steal her spotlight when this bit of closure was something she desperately needed.

He could hear the two shifting their way toward him. Crucifix waited for them to draw nearer, then turned his attention to Will and Amelia, noting the weariness of the two. He quickly turned his attention to the ground that served as his bed the night before, and then down at his clothes. For a homeless man, he cleaned up nicely.

The two made it not even five feet from him. He was sweating bullets. Crucifix could feel the pressure building inside of him - was he afraid? No, what he was in that moment was not afraid. Nervous, sure, but not afraid.

"Thanks for coming out here, Amelia. The lake seemed to be a nice place to just come and talk about things. It's so calm, you know?"

He let out a sigh, then smiled a little.

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not from these parts, remember.” The tone of her voice made it clear that she wasn’t here for pleasantries. Behind her, Will took in the form of Crucifix and held back a frown. Something was clearly wrong with Brian, like he had slept in the cold overnight. Between that and his recent request for advice on Twitter, Will put the two together and came up with the man in front of him, one of his opponents yet again just two weeks prior, was on the verge of a crisis.

But this wasn’t his time to make a point of it.

“You wanted me here to talk. So spill. It’s too damn cold to be out here fighting with these things.”

Crucifix continued to shiver in the piercing winter air, then nodded.

"Yeah, I shoulda guessed you wouldn't be happy with me at all. Fact is -"

A sniffle.

"- Fact is, I've been thinking it over a lot since WAR, and we did a terrible thing to you. Rob did a terrible thing to you."

He paused, taking time to collect his thoughts. Amelia, to her credit remained silent, continuing to state a hole through the forehead of Crucifix.

"And because of this terrible thing happening, I want to help correct it. Not on Rob's part, I don't think he's in a good place right now ... and I'm not really in much of a better one right now. I brought you out here not only to apologize to you, Amelia, because I don't think an apology covers all the pain we've caused you. I want to give you this ..."

Crucifix slid the yellow envelope out from his pocket, and motioned for Amelia to take it. She didn't move.

"... it's nothing much. Just some money Trent gave me when the OWF closed. I was gonna use it to buy some stuff for my kids, but it's quite obvious how that turned out. You need it more than I do right now."

Amelia slowly reached for the envelope, taking it from Crucifix with caution. Crucifix cracked a slight smile once again, still shivering as the wind slightly picked up. She peered inside the envelope, then back over to Crucifix, then to Will. Crucifix stood silent as Prydor and Amelia conversed in whispers.

“I can’t take this, Will. It feels too much like blood money to me!”

“Ames, look at him. Guy looks like he’s been sleeping outside this last week. I don’t claim to understand everything he’s going through but i can tell he’s near rock bottom in his life.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because nine years ago, that was me. Look at what I did to Trent at NLW Turbulence that year.”

Amelia fell silent, pondering this for a moment, and then turned back to Crucifix.  “What's your game? You brought the two of us out here just to pay us off?"

"Just trying to make up for something I did, is all. I figure the money could help pay some insurance bills or something for you while you're still recovering. Look, I really am sorry about what happened. It was immature, and I think Zodiac's currently dealing with the karma from attacking you the way he did. We both are. You don't have to take the apology, but please - take the money. It's done me too much harm this past year."

Crucifix began to walk off before freezing in his tracks. He shifted his gaze to Will Prydor, and nodded.

"I guess I better apologize to you as well, eh Will? I can't say that my actions weren't mine, they really were mine. I had every intention to do the things I did at that moment in time but when I could hear Amelia crying out in pain ... that's when I realized things in CON are fucked up. I'm trying to steer Zodiac away from doing anything like this again, but I don't know how long I can keep it up. The dude's a loose cannon, Will. I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee that he'll stay away from trying to hurt you to get your championship."

“He’s welcome to try.”

Crucifix, in only jeans and a T-shirt, couldn't take the cold anymore. He nodded and hurried away. There was something seriously wrong here, and it wasn't with Amelia and Will. It was with him.

Behind him, Will jerked his head back towards the car, gesturing for Amelia to follow. Nothing was said between the two until they had reached the relative warmth of Will’s Nissan, and the vehicle started to emit warm air through the vents.

“I know it’s not my business. But I’m worried, Amelia. It looks like he’s trying to turn over a new leaf, but I’m worried he’s going to lose what’s left of his sanity before he can.”

She stared out the windshield, where Crucifix’s figure slipped from sight in the small wooded area at the back end of the park. “Do you trust him, Will? After all, you’re the one who still has to deal with him and Zodiac.”

It took Prydor a few moments to respond. “I trust him about as much as I do most other people in this sport. That is to say, not at all. But I’m willing to give him he benefit of the doubt this one time.”

“Dare I ask why?”

“Look at him, Ames. He’s lost most everyone he cared for. He’s barely living his life as it is. Maybe this is his way of clawing back from the depths and to start living again.”

Nothing more was said as the big man shifted his vehicle into reverse to leave the park. Both occupants had plenty to mull over for the foreseeable future after what they had just witnessed.

Carnage Wrestling Arena
Baltimore, Maryland
January 8, 2018, 11:00 pm local time

After competing in a triple threat match with Trent Steel and Amber Ryan, Brian Crucifix was spent. He’d thrown everything at the two of them – well, everything in the reserves, at the least – and had taken the pin at the hands of Amber Ryan. He sat in the back of the arena, lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out what went wrong. Something inside of him just wasn’t there, and he wanted whatever it was back.

He’d seen far too many people fall from grace, and he wasn’t trying to be another name on that long list of men and women. He wasn’t another Melody Lennox, oh no. He was Brian Crucifix, then man that brutalized the tag team division and held their championships for ransom until someone had the balls to do something about it. Little did he know the people that would have those balls were the team he attempted to fuck over in the War Games match, and the “team” he stole the tag team championships from way back when.

Maybe that’s what was wrong with him. He feared losing to the people he had wronged for so long. He didn’t want to see Paragon or The Rogues step back into the forefront of the tag team division and take the things he and Zodiac had tried so hard to keep in their possession. They’d gone from being nothing in the OWF to being the Carnage Wrestling tag team champions, and The Rogues wanted to take that away from them!? Forget Paragon, The Rogues were the ones that helped CON on their worst days! The Rogues – no matter the combination and fake entities – were there when Crucifix needed their advice. They were there when the OWF closed, and Crucifix had to seek solace in the company of a mentor.

He just didn’t understand. If Trent Steel and JC knew what the championships meant to Zodiac and Crucifix, why would they try and rip them away? Jealousy, possibly. The way Crucifix (and anyone with half a brain) saw it, The Rogues were only brought together by a single goal: beat up everyone and win more gold, because gold equals money and money equals power. As we – one half of the Carnage Wrestling tag team champions, and the voice in his head (hello, by the way) – have discussed, Trent Steel isn’t one to look for power. JC, on the same hand, doesn’t either … so that suggestion is out the window.

But that still leaves the question on the table. Why would Trent and JC want to do such a thing? To teach the two of them a lesson. Yes, that’s the reason. Trent Steel wants Brian Crucifix to snap out of his little “phase” and become something “good”, but Crucifix thought otherwise. Trent Steel didn’t want Crucifix to be something Brian could admire when he hung up his boots. Trent Steel wanted Brian Crucifix to be something he could easily dispose of. 

Brian Crucifix wasn’t a wrestler’s wrestler, he wasn’t hardcore … he was delusional. Now, as his brain, I feel the need to point you (the listener) in the direction of the obvious. Crucifix wasn’t a threat to Trent Steel, or JC, and he knew it. And now with Paragon in the mix, Crucifix and Zodiac were surely laying their title reign to rest. And, while Crucifix knew this – somewhere in that corrupted mind of his – he knew that with all great gunfights, the hero doesn’t go down without taking a few goons down with him.

Former Dynamo Training Facility
January 12, 2018, 12:30 pm Maryland time

“Hey, you wanted to talk?”

Turning to face the familiar voice, Crucifix was almost startled to see Robert Zodiac, holding the Baltimore City Championship and his half of the tag team championships on each of his shoulders. Crucifix sighed, wiping his brow with a towel.

“Yeah, take a seat.”

Zodiac did as told, setting his championships on the ground beside him as he plopped into a chair. Crucifix took a moment to think of what to say, but nothing came to him … until he thought of a month prior, talking to Amelia in Bel Air. Zodiac let out a small cough, cutting the light back on in Crucifix’s head.

“You alright there, Brian?”

“You want me to be honest?”

“I’d hope you’d be honest with me, man. What’s got you down?”

Crucifix took a moment to think. The real question was: what’s not got him down. He shook his head, trying to throw some words together, but there was nothing he could say to Zodiac to convince him something was right in his life.

“You ever have to look in the eyes of someone you cared for while they suffered?”

“I think that’s what I’m doing right now.”

“Yeah, well you’d be right. 2017 was a terrible year for me personally, Rob. Yeah, we won the tag titles, we’ve held ‘em for a long ass time, longer than anyone else in the history of the company, if I’m correct. But there comes a time when all those good things start to reveal the bad things in someone’s life. We hurt someone, Rob.”

“We hurt a lot of people, Brian. It’s what we get paid to do.”

“Yeah, now that Bridges is in charge! I thought having him behind us was going to help us, Rob! It caused problems, problems that we can’t even fix because we’re too stupid to realize that we fucked up! Do you ever think of Amelia, Zodiac? Do you ever truly sit there and think ‘man, I feel terrible. I ended the career of a poor girl, and now she can’t support herself.”

“I d-“

“I’m not done! She has a kid. She may not see this kid, but they exist. You know where a good chunk of her wrestling money went to?”

There was a silence between the two. Crucifix sighed, staring down at Zodiac’s championships.

“I guess you’ve forgotten about being at the bottom, huh? Mr. Two Belts is too good to think about those less fortunate. Keep these …” Crucifix points to Zodiac’s championships, “… out of this.” He then points to Zodiac’s head.

“Once you do that, maybe people will stop treating us like dirt.”

Crucifix stood and proceeded to leave the training facility, leaving Zodiac alone behind him.


Men and women, fathers and mothers, lovers … they all deal with it. They wake in the morning and take another hit, check their phone, injure someone … whatever their brain tells them to do. They listen because they don’t know any better. They don’t! Everyone is addicted to something in some way … my addiction is professional wrestling.

When I was a child I dreamed of holding a championship high above my head. I was so obsessed with doing so that I didn’t notice the walls crashing down around me. I didn’t see my father abuse my mother. I didn’t see my brothers’ lives tick by as I was abandoned. Because of this dream of mine, I didn’t even notice my mom laying on the ground dead in front of me when I was seven years old. SEVEN YEARS OLD! No one should go through that, man!

I’m chilled just thinking about it today. I don’t want to think about it, but somehow my mind still wants me to replay that moment, as if to say “Don’t end up like her”, but I have. My mother was always in a bad place in life. She married a bad man, she had kids she didn’t even want … she had to scratch and claw her way to the top.

When someone must scratch and claw, they realize their addiction isn’t worth it. That leads to a chemical reaction where you lose all purpose in life, and you’re violently thrown into a depression. I’m in that spot right now. I wake up every morning and ask myself if someone would cry for me. I ask myself if anyone cares for me, and the answer is always no. The answer is always “You’re a terrible human being that fought for the wrong cause in life, there’s no way you can bring yourself to make it in this world.”

Whoever answered that question, was right. You see, I’m a like a rainbow in the dark. I’m the only person in a sea of mentally insane “professionals” that has this disease known as depression. I’m the only one that has to deal with wanting to end it all on a daily basis, and then my addiction will turn back to what it was before. Drugs, alcohol … those are my real friends.

Substances are the only ones that help me cope with living on the streets, not having money to buy a fucking Honey Bun from the gas station, the pain in my bones from matches with Trent Steel, JC, and all the others that I’ve stepped up to during my time here in Carnage Wrestling, but I don’t even feel the pain because this addiction has consumed me. This addiction has turned me into something I don’t want to be.

At Act of Defiance, there won’t be a Brian Crucifix. Sure, my body will be there, but certainly not my mind, so if you win, Paragon, Rogues, take it with a pinch of salt.

Streets of Baltimore
January 18, 2018
Baltimore, Maryland, 3:30 am local time

Crucifix laid alone on a random bench, a stack of newspapers serving as a pillow. He’d stolen a few coats from crew members back at the arena, so he wouldn’t freeze, but they weren’t doing too much to help combat the frigid temperature. He continued to lay on his wooden bed, chilled by the constant uproar of wind. He stood, looking out into the world around him. There were few people on the streets this morning, but there were plenty of cars.

Crucifix sighed, turning up the sidewalk that would eventually lead to the Carnage Wrestling arena.

“Be the first one there, and the last to leave,” the words of an atrocious mentor and a failure of a wrestler flickered in his mind. The truth was painfully obvious to Brian. There was nothing he could do to change his image. The Carnage Legion, the fellow wrestlers in the back … they all thought him the same as Redemption, a coward in a mask, but that wasn’t Brian Crucifix. Brian Crucifix – at least, in his mind – was a valiant champion that fought with everything he had to make sure no one stole the things that let him sleep at night. The Carnage Wrestling tag team championships meant everything to Brian Crucifix. They were his security when he didn’t think he had the guns to make it in the wrestling world.

When he went to FFW, or any other company, he was proud to be representing the promotion that made him something that wouldn’t be remembered as a loser. He was proud to say “I am one half of the Carnage Wrestling tag team champions,” but no one was proud to see CON with those belts. They wanted CON to die, and today would be that day.

He tightened his grip around the 24 – inch metal object. He was surprised that he had kept it after all these months, but somewhere in his mind, he knew this was the way he was going to go out. He’d fucked up – big time. He ruined the lives of not only Amelia, but both Harris brothers, TJ Adams, Aiden Blake, and the woman he used to love. He was a worthless, insignificant piece of shit … who’d miss him?

No one, that much was clear. How apt was it, that after all the months of chanting “no one could kill Brian Crucifix,” it would be he that did the job?

He sighed, pulled the object up, and squeezed the trigger.

“Don’t pull the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

/ Oyabun Gin
« Last post by Zaibutsu on January 15, 2018, 06:44:42 PM »
Out of Character

Your Name: Jade Bell
Your Age: 21

The best email address to reach you:
Would you be okay with CW Staff emailing you?: Yes
AIM, Messenger, Skype, Yahoo, Etc: None

How did you hear about Carnage Wrestling: Advertisement on a different forum.

By posting this application, I hereby agree to follow the rules of Carnage Wrestling and its Hosts.

I agree

New Wrestler Application

Wrestlers Name: Oyabun Gin
Nicknames/Aliases: The Oyabun, Kami, The Boss
Desired Picture Base: Minoru Suzuki

Age: 49
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 225 lbs
Hometown: Kabuchiko, Japan

Your Wrestlers Biography: The Oyabun, the Boss of the Gin Zaibatsu. A powerful and dangerous threat to many people in the wrestling circuit around the rising sun. He and his family have been a staple of the wrestling community there for years. But the Oyabun himself has seemed...not content. His entire demeanor seems off. He'd always wanted to be a leader, a ruler, but not over this small kingdom. Not over what this place represented. No, he and his family needed to test their worth. This was when the name of Carnage Wrestling stuck into his brain. And it wasn't long until he found himself yearning for that. Which is why he has found himself on a plane once again. To bring his own brand of destruction to this new land.

Desired Starting Alignment: Heel

Entrance Music: XTC by Psychic Lover
Entrance Description: As the music begins, the Oyabun calmly marches out, fronted by his twin children who in essence guide him to the ring. He outstretches his arms, letting the crowd sing the opening line of the chorus before stepping into the ring, looking forward.

Move Set: (Optional)

Signature Moves:
1. Fujiwara Armbar
2. Guillotine Choke
3. Gotch-Style Piledriver

1. Kami-Kusanagi - Open Handed palm to the skull

Advanced Match Writing Aides(Optional)

Create your Wrestler - Tell us about your characters strengths and weaknesses.  These points do not determine whether your character wins or loses, only your promos (RPs) can do that.  This is designed more to aide the match writers, but also totally optional. 

Each Category is 0-10 (0 being the least possible, and 10 being the most possible).  You have 35 Points to spread out between these 5 Categories.  Use them wisely.

Power (Slamming and Striking): 8

Toughness/Stamina: 7

Speed/Agility: 7

Charisma: 6

Wrestling Knowledge: 7
/ Sam Action
« Last post by Sam Action on January 14, 2018, 06:20:28 PM »
Out of Character

Your Name: Barbie
Your Age: 29

The best email address to reach you: I know I don’t need to answer this shit, but why not.
Would you be okay with CW Staff emailing you?: NO!
AIM, Messenger, Skype, Yahoo, Etc: I’m realizing that a lot of this shit isn’t even around anymore…. Maybe we need to fix some of these questions lol.

How did you hear about Carnage Wrestling? Co-Created Carnage Wrestling. 

By posting this application, I hereby agree to follow the rules of Carnage Wrestling and its Hosts.

New Wrestler Application

Wrestlers Name: Sam Action
Desired Picture Base: Anthony Mackie (As Falcon in The Avengers)

Age: Unknown
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 180lbs
Hometown: Earth !!!!!

Your Wrestlers Biography:
The only things that need to be known about Sam Action is that he's The Avengers tag team partner/Best Friend AND that HE DISPENSES JUSTICE WITH AN IRON FIST!!!  WATCH OUT CRIMINALS!

Desired Starting Alignment: Babyface

Entrance Music: The theme from Shaft (Except all occurances of the word shaft are replaced with ‘Sam Action’)

Entrance Description:

Will add this later

Move Set: (Optional)


Signature Moves:




Advanced Match Writing Aides(Optional)

Power (Slamming and Striking): 9

Toughness/Stamina: 9

Speed/Agility: 5

Charisma: 8

Wrestling Knowledge: 4
/ What Bridges doesn't know.... (Pt. 2)
« Last post by Barbie on January 14, 2018, 05:26:36 PM »

December 23rd 2017
Pensacola, Florida
The Mohr Residence


I keep shoving my things into my suitcase as he sits beside me on the bed, his arms crossed and a look on his face that says ‘someone shat in my cereal this morning.  I can’t really blame him for it though, I am packing to leave for Baltimore on the weekend of Christmas.  Travel is going to be an absolute nightmare, but one would think as a former wrestler himself, that he’d understand the fact that I’m required to be in Baltimore for Chaos on Monday, even IF it is on Christmas day. 

“You can keep saying my name all you want, it doesn’t change anything John.”

It really doesn’t.  Since Bridges brought me back and enforced my contract, I have no choice but to be at the Chaos’ that I’m booked on.  Of course, this one being the infamous ‘Terminal Snowball’ means that I have no idea what I’ll be doing.  Regardless, if my husband thinks that I’m happy about leaving my daughter and not being home for Christmas morning, then he’s dumber than I originally thought.

I finish stuffing the suitcase and zip it up, dragging it off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Just don’t go.”

“I can’t do that.  You know that.”

“Yeah, because you’re booked.   And probably because you’re going to be training that little punk, right?”

He waves his hand dismissively.   I try to grit my teeth, trying to be the understanding wife that gets why he’s so frustrated… But then again, I don’t.  We both have lived this life, and we both knew the consequences of said life when we signed up for it. 

“Don’t start this again, JD.”

I’m not in the mood for this.  He hasn’t liked the fact that I offered to help Lucas since I came home and told him what I was planning on doing, and that I was going to be spending more time in Baltimore to do so.  He thinks that ‘The Sandtown Kid’ is just a little prick that’s going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere and getting his ass out of the Carnage ring was probably the best thing to happen to him - give the fans a chance to forget his existence before they find out that he got murdered by a gang or something. 

Well, I see more in that little prick.  I’ll admit, when I was in charge of Carnage, I didn’t see anything but a scrappy little thing that could fill in in a match.  I didn’t see anything but what I wanted to see - that was until he made me see what he really had.  And that’s why I know that I need to help him, to train him. 

I can’t let that kind of talent and charisma go to waste.

“Don’t start what?”

I whip around and let the suitcase fall to the floor.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.  Don’t.

“You’re going to be gone for Christmas.”

I sigh.

“I know that, but I’ll be on the first flight home and we’ll celebrate--”


“What do you mean ‘no’?”

He rises to his feet and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m celebrating with my kids on Christmas day.  Whether you’re here or not.”

My cheeks are burning with anger as I glare up into his eyes.  The guy has some gigantic fucking balls to call those three kids ‘his’ when I’ve been there every God damned step of the way. 

“It’s good to know that you’re still every bit as selfish as everyone has always said you were.”

“Me?!  I’M the selfish one when YOU’RE the one running off to wrestle on Christmas when you should be home with your family?!”

I lean down and grab my suitcase from the floor, shaking my head.

“Yep.  I’m going out there just to wrestle.  Keep telling yourself that, JD.  Keep telling yourself that I’m somehow maliciously denying our kids their mom on christmas because I care more about wrestling than them.”

The sarcasm flies from my lips like venom as I move towards the doorway.  I should have known that JD Mohr of all people wouldn’t understand my want, or even my need to do something that doesn’t benefit myself.  He’s the most selfish, egotistical person I’ve ever met and everything he’s done to help ‘someone else’, he’s always gotten something out of it.  Giving me Carnage Wrestling?  Well, he got the profits from it - considering he’s my husband.  Bribing that referee to give Ana the title win over Jax… He got into her pants.   He’s never done anything without making damn sure that he was going to be well compensated for his efforts.

I used to be like that.  I used to like that about him.  Looking out for himself, for his family - but now I see what a load of shit that is.  I stop in the doorway and turn around. 

“Because I know why I’m going.  You do too, but you’re too damn wrapped up in yourself and your bullshit to see that I’m trying to do something beyond us… Something that will do more than propel us to whatever heights you think we should be at.  It’s not all about us, John.  This world doesn’t revolve around you, or me.. Or our family.  There’s a kid up there in Baltimore who lost something he loved because of me… and there’s an entire arena of people who are suffering because of MY bad decision and I want to fix it.  I want to do whatever I can to fix my fuck ups because that’s my home, John.  Baltimore is my home, and Carnage Wrestling is my home… It’s a damn shame you’ve gotta be like this because you once called it home too.”

December 25 2017
Baltimore, Maryland
The Carnage Arena

“I didn’t realize there was so much more to this then I already knew.”

I grin and nod my head, taking a sip of water as the two of us take a break; sitting in the middle of the ring - me with my legs extended out in front of me, and him laying back on the mat; his knees up in the air and his arms folded behind his head.  We’d just sparred for what must have been over an hour, me showing him the proper ways of doing certain moves, and letting him hit me with them over and over…

At first he wasn’t keen on the idea, considering I’m the one helping him but after a few times of telling him that he doesn’t need to worry about hurting me because well come on… It’s me we’re talking about here… he finally let go of that apprehension and gave me his all.  He needs work, but for a kid that’s not the brightest bulb in the shed, he’s a quick study. 

“Shit, what we’ve been doing today is just the tip of the iceberg.”


He doesn’t sound defeated as he says that though, I sense a determination in his voice.  I like that.  I like that he’s not put off by how much there is to learn.  I remember how impatient I was when I was learning, hell I’m still that way to this day.  It’s why I enjoy hardcore wrestling more than the technical stuff, it’s easier to hit someone with a steel chair then to worry about the form of performing a suplex or any other complicated maneuver you’d want to do do in a so-called ‘standard’ match.   

But... But the opportunity to impart some of my knowledge onto someone who I think will actually appreciate it, that makes me appreciate my own training that much more. 

“You’re doing great.”

“We’ve only been at it for like an hour.”

“No, you’ve been at it for two years now.”

I glance over at him and I see a faint smile on his lips.  I start to smile, pulling my knees up to my chest.  It’s hard to believe today is Christmas.  This has been the least ‘Christmas’-like Christmas I’ve had in the last few years.  Before I got with JD, this day was spent by myself, drinking or doing other reckless things.. And since him, it’s been an actual family holiday.

That is, until today.

I tried to call this morning, to at least talk to Adina and the boys - but JD didn’t answer his phone.  Tried five more times before throwing the phone down and going for a run… a long run. 

“You got any plans for today, Lucas?”

He looks up and over at me, grinning from ear to ear.

“Huge celebration.  I spend all year looking forward to tonight.  And this year, it's the best one ever."

For a kid with no family, no money, no home, it seems odd the amount of enthusiasm he feels about the holiday season.  In all likelihood, he had never known anything that other regular people would have considered a 'normal' Christmas.  He and I aren’t really that different after all. 

"I wouldn't have guessed you as much of Christmas person, Lucas.  So what do-"

"Wait a second.  Did you say it's Christmas?"

The kid looks legitimately surprised, as if it had somehow slipped his mind.

“Yeah.  It’s Christmas.  Why?  What were you talking about?”

Duh.  It's Terminal Snowball, the most special day of the year.  And this year's Terminal Snowball is going to be the best one ever.  After the show, me and Boy and Fence are all going to go out and celebrate them becoming tag champions.  I know this place out on Lafayette where they don't ID."

I chuckle softly and look down at my hands.  He doesn’t even realize it’s Christmas.  He’s more worried about today being Terminal Snowball.  It doesn’t surprise me.  This kid is loyal to a fault, especially to Boy.  Instead of bitching and complaining about his own ended wrestling career, he’s wanting to celebrate Boy’s big night.  Or what they hope will be Boy’s big night. 

Lucas, you can’t really think they’ve got a chance in hell of winning the tag titles.”

Silva smiles, this time wide enough that I can see both his missing teeth.  His eyes sparkle brightly, like someone who has just heard a very funny joke.

"Have you read the rules for Five Stages of Finland?"

I shake my head.  How hard could a match dreamed up by Boy actually be?

Lucas walks towards the corner of the ring and picks up a towel, using it to wipe off his face.  Sitting on the mat near the bottom turnbuckle is a doorstop of a book, like a god-damned dictionary, stamped Five Stages of Finland across the cover.  It's the first I've actually seen the rulebook and it takes me a moment to realize that my jaw is hanging open in shock, first that Boy wrote some massive instruction manual, and secondly that Lucas actually read it.  I was semi-confident the kid knew how to read, but he definitely never struck me as someone who would read for fun.

"You’ve got to be kidding… Those are the rules?"

"I think.  It's a little hard to understand."

Twelve thousand pages of Boy-speak.  CON doesn't know what they're in for.  Hell, nobody knows what they're in for.  Nobody except Boy, and maybe Lucas Silva. 

"How about you, Kyra?  Big plans for Christmas?"

I shrug my shoulders quietly and put my chin down on my arms.  It really is just another day.  An overrated, commercial, piece of shit holiday.  JD and I shopped our asses off just for those three kids to have the best day possible and I wasn’t even there to watch them open their gifts… But the gifts aren’t even supposed to be the reason for the holiday… It’s supposed to be about helping others and being with those that you care about. 

So I guess maybe I am doing this day, this holiday some justice this year.  No, not by being away from my family, but by helping Lucas and making it so he’s not spending this day by himself like I had assumed he would be. 

“What about your family?”

He asks, jolting me out of my thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah.. They’re back in Alabama.  I’m sure the kids had a great morning with their dad.”

“Didn’t you wanna be there too?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah, I mean… I hoped that JD would wait until tomorrow morning; so that I could actually be there.  I was gonna catch the first flight I could out of Baltimore, but...Well, he didn’t want to wait.”

Silence once again settles between us.  I don’t really know what to say.  I don’t want him to feel bad, I don’t want him to feel any guilt whatsoever over the fact that I’m here and he’s partially the reason why.  I don’t regret being here one bit.  What I regret is that the man I love doesn’t understand me at all, or what I’m trying to do.
“Ah, hell… Come on.  Let’s get on with it, Sandtown Kid.  We aren’t getting anything done by sitting on our asses.”

I jump back up to my feet, not willing to let this shit get to me like it did last time.  I’ve got to let John do his thing and he’s got to let me do mine.  If that ends up pulling us apart, then maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be.  I smile down at Lucas as he opens his eyes, and I extend my hand out to him.

“Let’s go.  This shit isn’t going to learn itself.” 

OOC: Thank You Caleb for letting me use STK again!
/ Jacob Cass
« Last post by JacobCass on January 11, 2018, 09:12:57 PM »
Out of Character

Your Name: K.O
Your Age: 23 Years Old

The best email address to reach you:
Would you be okay with CW Staff emailing you?: 
AIM, Messenger, Skype, Yahoo, Etc: Twitter, Skype

How did you hear about Carnage Wrestling?


By posting this application, I hereby agree to follow the rules of Carnage Wrestling and its Hosts.

New Wrestler Application

Wrestlers Name: Jacob Cass
Nicknames/Aliases: "Devil of Dark Arts, Human Nightmare"
Desired Picture Base: Kenny Omega (NJPW)

Height: 6'4
Weight: 240 Pounds
Hometown: Detroit, Michigan by way of Tokyo Japan

Your Wrestlers Biography: At the young age of 13 years old, Jacob Cass would both lose his mother and father to a tragic fire in their home of Detroit Michigan. With both of his parents being lost, his anger and rage would be adverted to martial arts and professional wrestling.

The young man would go on to having very little faith in such human nature as far as religion and activities that required friends. Was he a lone wolf? Nope. He was evolving into a growing boy that felt no need to worship a god. With this newfound life and a growing yet active imagination... an alternate universe and someone would soon appear. A mythical world known as Apocalypse and a being named Sebastian would appear in his thoughts, guiding his every move from that moment on.

Desired Starting Alignment: Heel (Crowd Boos)
All new wrestlers in CW start out Neutral.  Their actions, both in Promo and in segments/matches on the shows determine how the crowd reacts over time.

Entrance Music: CFO$ ft Tommy Vext - End of Days
Entrance Description: The opening rift of End of Days would blast throughout the PA System as a man in a black hoody would walk out onto the stage with a set of leather tights, kickpads and black boots would. walk down the ramp. Slowly yet methodically the crowd would boo him in unison as the announcer introduces him to the Carnage scene.

"Ladies and Gentlemen.. this next contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first from Detroit Michigan  standing at six feet four inches tall, weighing in at 240 pounds... This is the "Devil of Dark Arts" Jacob Cass!"

Cass would now reach the ropes and step through them with a cheeky smile of sadistic proportions. Pointing a gun to the camera with his fingers, and sitting in the corner moments later as he waited on his opponent.   

Move Set: (Optional)

1) Spinning Backhand
2) Spinning Backfist
3) Fujiwara Armbar
4) Roundhouse Kick
5) Superkick
6) Calf Crusher
7) Kotaro Krusher (Leapfrog into one handed bulldog)
8) Snap Dragon Suplex
9) Tope Con Hilo (With "Rise of the Terminator" Theatrics)
10) Reverse Frankensteiner
11) Spear from the corner (Edge version)
12) Sleeperhold
13) Death Valley Driver
14) 450 Splash
15) Standing shooting star press
16) Package Piledriver
17) Second Rope DDT
18) Underhook Piledriver
19) Blue Thunder Bomb
20) Headlock Driver

Signature Moves:

Apocalyptic Thunder (V-Trigger)

Fate of the Masses (Fireman's Carry Neck breaker)

Advanced Match Writing Aides(Optional)

Create your Wrestler - Tell us about your characters strengths and weaknesses.  These points do not determine whether your character wins or loses, only your promos (RPs) can do that.  This is designed more to aide the match writers, but also totally optional.  

Each Category is 0-10 (0 being the least possible, and 10 being the most possible).  You have 35 Points to spread out between these 5 Categories.  Use them wisely. 

Power (Slamming and Striking): 7

Toughness/Stamina: 8

Speed/Agility: 8

Charisma: 2

Wrestling Knowledge: 10
/ Time (Karma's Messenger)
« Last post by Anubis on January 11, 2018, 09:50:36 AM »

     The one great construct that was said to heal all wounds. The one messenger that waits for no man. Many try to tame it through the latest

detoxes and plastic surgery disasters – but ultimately – time comes for us all.
     Having received the Contract through one of his anonymous emails, the man had almost thought it had been a hoax. Tracking down the source

of the Contract had left him clueless – even the latest and greatest millennial hackers couldn’t figure out who had made the initial request.

     Ten million dollars was a hefty sum of money – even in the Assassination Game.

     Yet, it wasn’t the money that had caught the attention of Razgriz. No, it was the name on the Contract – the individual in question whose life

had been summed up into an insane amount of American Dollars.


     The man was a legend in their community – an Operator of the highest order – some would say one of the best for easily the last decade within

their Clandestine Business.

     And yet, the once formidable warrior had fallen off the face of the Earth. After a considerable campaign to free himself of the skeletons in his

closet, a single attempt upon his life during what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life had brought his entire world crashing down.

     Razgriz didn’t envy the man – the Assassin had learned long ago that people in their line of business simply couldn’t have a personal life. Loved

ones, children, and families – these were all ideals and things that could be exploited against them and could compromise everything one worked

for in this business.

     He didn’t accept the Contract formally; he merely sent a message back to the source explaining to them how dangerous and foolish an idea it

would be to try and kill the Operator known as Sokaris. After that, Razgriz had tapped into his considerable sources within the Intelligence

Community to find out where the man had disappeared to after the untimely death of countless friends, comrades, and his fiancée’ and unborn


     Tracing the Operator to the flatlands had been more surprising than difficult in its accomplishment. Sokaris had always been a man of the city

despite how easily he could slip in and out of the shadows.

      Razgriz never agreed with the man’s obsession with the sport of Professional Wrestling, either. Sure, Sokaris kept his identities completely

separate from one another with a skill that would have made most Schizophrenics blush. The few times the two men crossed paths in a business

that often blurred lines of loyalty and commitment he had told Sokaris that his childhood obsession was just one more weakness that would

ultimately compromise him.

     He almost felt bad now for see all of that unfold upon the honorable man.

     All sources pointed to Sokaris disappearing into the western regions of Montana into the mountains. The man had made his name in the

mountains and deserts of Afghanistan – Razgriz almost smiled at the faint memory.


     After traveling to the state under one of his false identities, Razgriz had taken the time to visit a local Bass Pro Shops. It was amazing what

products and technology could be purchased in such stores for the common citizen in this day and age. Cash was still king in this day and age – and

despite the look on the perplexed millennials face when Razgriz easily dropped several hundred dollars upon the countertop, no one really

questioned the business being brought to the establishment.

    Securing passage into the mountains themselves had been even easier. Numerous local companies rented out all sorts of all-terrain vehicles. The

man had found a Gator suitable for his needs – he had packed light for the journey, only bringing what he thought he would absolutely need while

planning for every contingency as well.

     Once the terrain became too rocky and hazardous for the vehicle, Razgriz began scaling the range by foot. The first several days had left him

with no clues and on his third night bunkered down on the side of the mountain he had begun to convince himself that all this was pointless and a

fruitless venture.

     Yet, there was a voice screaming deep down inside his head – a yearning that had drove him since the first time he had met Sokaris.

     On the fourth day he had begun to pack up his campsite when he had noticed a flash of light a mile up the mountain – the faintest hint and

flash of the rising sun off of a reflective surface.

     Only grabbing his backpack and his sidearm, Razgriz tore off in the direction of the light. Every muscle, bone and body part was aching after the

marathon days of scaling the mountains in search of Sokaris.

     Soaked in sweat and dirt, Razgriz closed a rocky path to find a campsite with fresh ashes from a fire near a precipitous edge of the mountain. It

was the click of a hammer falling into place that had caused his entire body to freeze.

     “Who sent you?” a gnarled, grisly voice from the past that caused every hair on his body to stand on edge.

    “Someone put ten million out for your head – I told them you were already dead” Razgriz replied with his hands up above

his shoulders at his sides, his dark hues glancing down to the holster that held his Glock 17.

     “Smart” the voice replied as the sound of tension leaving the hammer followed. Razgriz slowly turned as his attention fell

to the source of the sound.

     “Shit…” Razgriz swore faintly under his own breath. The once all-mighty Sokaris was now dressed in tattered rags, his

body covered head to toe in easily months’ worth of soot, dirt and God only knew what else. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight as well –

the once brick-shit-house of a soldier now looking like a weary skeleton at the end of his days.

     “What happened to you?” Razgriz asked, already knowing the answer but simply not able to help himself. Sokaris brought

his attention away from the rising sun back towards the young assassin. Sokaris had ten years on Razgriz but it looked more like thirty years at this


    “Kid….I was selfish….foolish….and a damned idiot. I thought I could have a legitimate life….friends, a wife…family…”

Sokaris replied as bloodshot blues fell back towards the rising sun, his right hand release the equally worn piece of forged steel onto the rocky path

they both stood upon. He would look back to Razgriz. “They took it all from me, Jason. They took it all. They had to remind me in the

harshest way the m most important lesson in our line of work…”

     “What lesson is that?” Razgriz asked as his posture relaxed now that Sokaris seemed to pose no threat, his spirit and

body broken from a life of endless killing and death.

     Sokaris smiled, looking back to the younger man.

    “That we are disposable” were the last words uttered as he took a step forward while turning to face Ragriz, his arms

outstretched as he plummeted from the side of the mountain.

     Razgriz could only watch in blank remorse as the legend known as Sokaris fell into oblivion, the rising sun blinding him to the hundreds of feet

below the edge of the mountainside.

     Later he found what had to be the man’s permanent home farther up the mountainside. A rudimentary hut constructed of mud and sticks, he

knew the former Operator had lived in worse…but also much better as well.

     A lone picture was found in the hut along with empty bottles of whiskey and skins from various animals hunted across the mountains. A worn

picture of a young beauty with raven hair, piercing hues and vibrant ink across her flesh – a link to the past and a reminder of everything the man

had lost.

     Ragriz gathered up the few items he found that belonged to Sokaris and brought them out from the hut to what had been a permanent fire pit

the Operator had dug down into the ground. Starting a fire, Razgriz let the items burn, only hoping that Sokaris had finally found some form of


     The trip home was quiet and solemn – the young Assassin reflected on everything he had known about Sokaris – the path he had walked – the l

life he had tried to live, and all the mistakes he had made along the way that brought him to this morning on the mountainside.

     Arriving home back in New York State, his quaint apartment in Manhattan had been tended to by a young Spanish maid that he paid

handsomely in both money and sex. She kept the place immaculate along with the Private Security Company he contracted out while he was away

on jobs.

     Exiting his shower, his feet welcomed the radiant heat pouring through the terrazzo floor as he wrapped a white towel around his waist. Padding

towards his office, Razgriz picked up a tablet resting upon his desk and opened one of his many anonymous email addresses.

    “Contract Fulfilled. I expect the rest of my money by day’s end” was the response to the unknown source.

     As Razgriz padded away from his desk towards his bedroom to prepare for Marlena’s arrival, the tablet sat upon the desk and timed out,

becoming dark once more as the scene faded into black.

Roleplaying Currently OPEN for: ACT OF DEFIANCE 2018
/ Re: Starmaker Ladder Match
« Last post by James Ceno on January 10, 2018, 10:43:00 PM »
A new opportunity, a new beginning, a new chance at greatness: this is what James Ceno recognized in reading through his contract for Carnage Wrestling. He just had to mail it in afterwards, after all the signatures are put down on the paper.

The contemplation started after finishing a training session at the Mean Machine School of Wrestling. Even after working up a sweat, even after dipping into the ice bath to shock the muscles into recovery, even after signing HSW autographs, it all felt so quiet. It wasn’t more obvious or apparent as he packed his gym bag with his dirty clothes for washing, as he looked at the North American Heavyweight title. It was a blank stare; nothing compared to what he felt when he first won it. After the Winter Survival PPV, things went dead: no card, no talking to anyone, no pay. He left the North American belt in his locker as he packed his things to head home, but it wasn’t the home that he made in Vegas to stay close to the school. In his apartment, he had bags packed to fly back to Hamilton, Ontario, to be at home and find some work to keep him occupied and paid. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him anywhere.

However, a cryptic text from Jack caught him off guard.

Jack Michaels, The Blast From the Past: he became Ceno’s mentor, although the age gap wasn’t huge; the man just had more credentials and better results. It honed Ceno’s ground work and striking, while strengthening his grappling and technical skills. It allowed James to give up on most of his flying through the air, especially since, at his age, the beating a body takes performing those manoeuvres was just not worth it anymore.

As for the text, Ceno couldn’t make heads or tails of it at first, but it included a phone number to a Human Resources team. He didn’t know who it was, until he called.

HR: Hello, Carnage Wrestling Human Resources.

It took James a second to process to whom he was talking, but the conversation went as it usually does for a wrestler looking for work. The questions were just as trivially boring as well: going through company history, achievements, draw rates, etc. But the questions weren’t as probing, as if there was already a reference in line. After giving his address to the HR person on the other line, the address where he lives in Ontario, they had a pleasant, short conversation and they ended the call.

JC: Jack, did you just get me another job?

James asked himself this question and shrugged, getting on his flight to Canada on time, no significant delays.

Back to where the scene was before: the contract in James Ceno’s hands, as he reads the fine print and sign off. He made sure to analyze every detail, as he has seen a few contracts pass through his hands enough to know. Then again, he had a lawyer acquaintance of his ready for speed dial if and where needed, highlighter next to him so he knew where to look.

There was an email sent to him by the Carnage administrative group, since he was a prospect still, regardless of his contract being signed. The next pay-per-view was coming up already: Act of Defiance. His name was already on the card of the Starmaker match, a ladder stipulation match that looked and sounded similar to Money in the Bank. The names were listed on the card sample as well, one of them being Eli Goode, another being Kelsi Parr but Eli’s name meant a little more to him. James smiled and he signed off on the last few lines of the contract after reading them over five minutes.

The email was encouraging, and, as he slipped the contract into the protective envelope provided by Carnage via FedEx, he knew he had to get into a ring and get himself back up to fighting form, and he knew just who to call. Best part of it, he could get a decent promo out of it as well.

However, from what he has seen from Amber, from Jack and from Leon, hell, even from Eli, he had to change his style, mix it up and bring it back in a new way, a fresher way, a way that strengthened his game enough to push himself to another level. That level may not guarantee championships, let alone promote himself enough for victories, but at least it will be enough of a change of pace to give him that early push.

He called FedEx for the pickup, and while he waited, he called the indie fed where he worked for a small amount of time before he joined HSW, asking them if they want to have him do a few guest spots. They were quick to say yes, since James was always a professional inside and out of the ring. James wrote down all the dates they were offering, and he mentioned that he could only be there when he can be available. After negotiating pay rate, which Ceno took at a flat rate based on appearance and draw rate, they agreed to James’ terms of appearing on what dates he could, unless Carnage called him up for a promo or an appearance, considering the pay-per-view was taking place in Baltimore.

Of course, the appearance of Ceno in the indie fed was going to be a surprise match for the championship in the territory, and the minute his music, “Hell” by Disturbed, played on the speakers, it took the duration of the song before the fans started to calm down, the champion in the ring, a new kid that won the title through the string of events that Ceno was absent for, starting to panic, as he was a heel champion and the fans’ reaction spoke of a superhero babyface. The music died down and the referee started to count, and then the music restarted and Ceno burst through the curtain, standing at the top of the stage. Of course, the heel started to freak out as the ref stopped his count; the heel urged the ref to start counting again as Ceno slowly walked, at a Deadman pace, looking into the ring and staring at the heel as he moved like a cornered prey animal. By the time Ceno got to the apron, he leaned against the ropes on the opposite side of the ring, ready to run away. The on-air commissioner (which was an angle they were using), a former wrestler of note in the area, stood up from the commentary table and confronted the heel, who was distracted enough for Ceno to enter the ring, much to the fans’ adoration, and the bell to ring. The heel, a good seller and actor according to everyone Ceno talked to, froze and turned slowly, as if it was the Undertaker himself in the ring across from him. Ceno just smiled and stood there, and that’s when the offence started.

It was a gruelling 60 minutes of catch as catch can wrestling, Ceno also keeping up with some of the heel’s acrobatics. The climax and finish came to Ceno hitting the Electric Fire, leaving the heel in a crumpled-up heap, prompting Ceno to just take a tired knee and fold him up. However, just as the two-count was seconds from a three, the bell rang. James got up and raised his arms, but he saw the ref shake his head, flooded over by the fans’ adoring cheers. Ceno lowered his arms once the ref told him what happened, which was discussed: the three-count fell after the 60-minute time limit, and the match ended in a draw. Ceno wasn’t pleased, but he took a deep breath and crossed his arms, the fans not knowing what was going on, until the ring announcer took over.

RA: Due to the 60 minutes elapsing before the pin fall could be counted, the match is a DRAW!

The fans were in uproar, booing as the ref was about to give the belt to a slowly rousing heel, but Ceno ripped the title away. The fans were booing, but, as the Firestorm pulled the heel onto his feet, he handed him the belt and let him run away, and the heel laughed at Ceno, as if he won the match. James was given a microphone, and the Firestorm lit it up.

JC: Now now, people, let the baby run away with his belt. He fought, and he got lucky that time was on his side. So I think a more appropriate chant is merited here. How do people actually feel about him?

The fans followed James’ coaxing, and the “asshole” chants, reminiscent of the Attitude Era, echoed through the small venue. He smiled as the heel scowled and ran into the back, behind the curtain. James has his own turn to laugh.

JC: There’s nothing like beating a dog into submission, but I was a second too late. Next time, and there will be a next time, I will make it so you’re not so lucky, kid! But I know what the rest of you people are thinking.

No longer facing the stage, he turns to look to the fans, facing them as much as he can without spinning around like an idiot. He wanted to make sure he had the eye contact of at least 75% of the people there, which was easy for a building capacity of just over 2000. While James did love the bigger crowds, the intimacy of the small crowds made for a more thrilling atmosphere, especially for testing new strategies or moves.

But he wasn’t in for practising anything new. He was here to hone, to perfect, to remember what it felt like to be the hero and the babyface after playing a heel in HSW. Sure, he was going in neutral into Act of Defiance and Carnage as a whole, but he needed to remember what it was to be a winner to the fans.

JC: Where is the North American Heavyweight Championship I won in HSW? Where did I leave that title? Quite frankly, I left it in Vegas, where it belongs, with HSW. Yes, I’m still HSW and active there, but until it wants to be active for me, I’m not only here, but I’m going to be wrestling in Carnage Wrestling!

Some of the fans cheered; they were definitely the smarks, but even they didn’t know that James literally signed his contract the day before.

JC: I hear a few smarks in the audience who watch Carnage Wrestling. Given its general size, I can assume that you watch it online. Personally, I wouldn’t know how to watch it, but soon, I’ll be watching matches from backstage, kicking my feet up until I need to do my pre-match warmups, and then I jump in the shower and get into my clothes before watching the rest of the show. That is, of course, unless I’ve earned my spot in the main event, which came quick in HSW. However, Carnage is brand new to me. HSW, I knew people there and they knew me, so they knew how to book me for maximum effect, and it worked, and I drew. But this is a new creature that I must learn, so I can ride it hard or get bucked off, and I expect to be bucked off a few times before I figure out how to stay on. That’s why my first match is going to be a critical showing.

The fans stay quiet, as Ceno takes a deep breath. It was still a lot for him to digest: already signing to a new contract within a group of mostly strangers, and he was in the match equivalent of their Money in the Bank, where he could take any opportunity for any title at any time. It was the big time.

JC: The Starmaker, Carnage’s equivalent match to the Money in the Bank, which every promotion seems to be incorporating, will have names like Eli Goode and Kelsi Parr in it, but no match and no card has the same drawing power or name recognition, especially after I make my presence known, as James Ceno, the Firestorm!

The fans start cheering, as they know exactly what he’s talking about after the reference to the Money in the Bank. He raises a fist and takes another deep breath.

It was almost overwhelming, because it had been a good long while since the fans actively cheered him on. He swallowed back the tears, but he also knew that he had to steel himself to the inevitable boos that would haunt him if he deposes the favourite babyface that will be in the match. But it was all a part of the game.

JC: This is where the real fun begins. This is where the Firestorm will pick up all that fuel and run amok across Carnage Wrestling, and I will truly show them what Carnage is! I will leave no one safe and nothingness in my wake, nothing but the victory I fight to achieve! You know me; they don’t. You know what I’m capable of; they don’t! You know how many people I’ve destroyed; they DON’T! Well...

James took a deep breath, slowly bringing his heart rate down and cooling himself off, as if a splash of cooled water was being thrown onto something or someone overheating. A fan in the audience could swear that all he or she saw was Ceno blowing off steam.

JC: The Firestorm found his way to a new home, and they will soon learn what I can do: burn everyone to the ground!

He threw the microphone aside and looks out to the fans. Well, it was more like looking past the fans. His music started to play as he exited the ring, head down in quiet contemplation as he slipped into the backstage area.

He woke from his reverie to the sound of applause from the other wrestlers. He smiled and waved to people, thanking them as he continued to the private locker room they gave him. The heel walked up to him and thanked him for the strong showing. James smiled and shook his hand.

JC: Just keep it up. The angle says you’re dropping the title; as I’m sure you know, but let it give you that push to shift or to get better as you are.

Ceno gave him a courtesy smile as he was thanked for the advice, slipping into the private locker room, quietly locking the door. He sat against the door and tried to slow his heart rate, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. It was an intense feeling: anxiety and excitement and panic all balled up and being forced down his throat...

He reached over to his bag and pulled out his phone, reading that his FedEx was received, only for the next email to be from Carnage administration again, welcoming him to the roster. It was official: James Ceno is now a member of the Carnage roster.

There was a postscript in the email, asking James for a video package and video interview talking about his career in the past and what got him to this point. That would be an activity for another day. He got his shower and dressed, heading home for a good but restless sleep.

The next morning, James gathered his ornamental titles, all of which were kept in the loft where he was currently residing; he had moved to it after some of the money was earned from his work in HSW. He set up a camera, showing his trophy cabinet, where he placed all the title belts. Getting into the shot, he had to take a deep breath to contain much of his giddy nervousness and overwhelming anxiety before hitting the record button on a remote connected to the camera; he waits for the red recording light to come to life.

JC: Welcome to Hamilton, Ontario. I am James Ceno, the newest member of the Carnage roster and, as you look at my little trophy case here, a future champion in the organization. My career has seen many ups and down, more downs than ups of course; you can’t win them all, but my record might as well be 0-0 now, because I’m new to Carnage, and I will be remiss if I start my record with a blemish, especially with my first match taking place live at Act of Defiance. Instead of starting me in what we on the inside call a dark match, I’m diving straight into it; I’m taking part in the Starmaker. For those of you new to Carnage Wrestling, the Starmaker is essentially the Money in the Bank: a ladder match where the winner gets a shot at any given champion at any given time for that champion’s title.

James also speaks with his hands, being part Italian; he couldn’t help it. He was trying to contain his emotions as best he could, given the circumstances.

JC: There are names I don’t recognize, so they’re not very committed to my memory. I’m sure, if and when given the chance, I will have some great matches with them, whether they are beloved superstars or hated villains. However, there are two names I do recognize: Kelsi Parr and, a favourite rival of mine, Eli Goode. Knowing they’re in this match, it excites me to be facing two people I have known since my time in EWE before it folded, which allows me to segue into my story.

Ceno takes a pause and a deep breath, looking still at the camera, before turning to each title.

JC: I started here, at Blood ‘N’ Guts Wrestling. This was my debut. This is where I first cut my teeth. Eventually, I made my way into a match against the champion and won this: the bNg Hell’s Championship. I also became the longest-running champion with this belt, one of my accolades being able to last in a 5-way match, essentially a championship scramble, retaining the belt with style.

I then moved on to the organization and family I knew for most of my career: EWE, Extreme Wrestling Entertainment. I got to be in some really high-profile matches to prove my mettle, and, while I was relegated to dominate the midcard, I faced the likes of Jeff Payne, Christy Clark-Chaos, Jack Michaels, CM Punk, Android 18, Kris Jaxson and Alessandro Quagliaterre. I was in main event matches and I held my own, earning the respect of my peers through my perseverance and professionalism, as well as earning the All-American and X-Division Championship titles.

And from the ashes of that organization came the one that many Carnage competitors might be familiar with, or at least aware of: High Stakes Wrestling. It encouraged wrestlers to come in and explore their best sides, coming from all over the world of wrestling, as well as sending its wrestlers as ambassadors for HSW and to improve the pedigree of said wrestlers to allow for more captivating and competitive angles and stories. It was here, in a competitive match with Eli Goode, I captured the North American Heavyweight Championship title. Sure, I used heel tactics, but that was my character at the time.

Ceno pauses for a moment, catching his breath and making sure he was talking clearly, by slowing his breathing.

JC: But this is where the new chapter starts, Carnage Wrestling and Carnage fans. The Firestorm has come into your midst, nothing more than a spark catching on some kindling. It’s a small thing at first, but the fire grows hot, burns hotter, and begins to swallow everything whole. It sucks in victims into fire tornadoes and spits out smouldering cinders. It surrounds you, it encapsulates all, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. The heat alone is enough to conjure its own lightning out of nowhere, shocking you before you have a chance to get away. The smoke chokes you, the wind dries your body because of the intense heat, and you will crumble into dust.

Ceno chuckles to himself.

JC: And that’s on a good day, but I’ve said enough. I’ll let my actions do the rest of the talking. Thank you for listening, Carnage. This is the Firestorm, James Ceno. I will see you all at Act of Defiance, on Sunday, January 21, live on pay-per-view.

Ceno presses the remote’s stop button, and the recording light shuts off. He takes a deep breath and sits down in a close-by chair. He leans back in his seat and thinks. Starmaker... facing Kelsi Parr and Eli Goode... new beginnings, new opportunities...

Everyone had better watch themselves, whether he exists to Paragon or not.
/ Re: Chaos 48 Live! Results
« Last post by Joe on January 10, 2018, 09:44:23 PM »
Great Again

Ray Payne: Mistah Angel is doins well doh. He'd probably gets a win soon.

Terra Skye: It's possible. He's improving every show.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah yeah, whatever. At least this is over and I can...

A huge, crackling static noise is heard through the arena, cutting Vegas off. The Carnage Legion buzzes in anticipation as it's a familiar situation. The lights in the arena come to an abrupt darkness. The raucous crowd has calmed to a faint murmur, feeling as if they've seen this before. The camera pans up to the entrance ramp where two spotlights have lit up and are directed towards the Carnage-tron, similar to last week. Words begin to show on the screen, accompanied by the narration from the familiar man with the gravely, deep voice.

Voice: Oh joyous the day will be when my words are nothing more than a faint memory of a wretched time gone by. When this company wasn't ruled by hostility, depravity, and egomania...

Various top stars of Carnage are featured on the screen ending with the face of Kyra Mohr.

Voice: ..broken down veterans clinging to the past..

Trent Steel and JC are pictured.

Voice: ..psychos and monsters..

Tweeder and Lord Raab are displayed.

Voice:..this once great sport has been tainted by the weak and feeble that claim to be true champions but know nothing of real competition.

Similar to last week the Carnage champions are displayed on the screen. The Tag Team Champions, CON, are the last to be displayed and a big red circle appears across their faces.

Voice: They hear my words and grasp at their meager trophies. They should appreciate the gift they have held for so long and heed my words that a true champion shall return to show them what it means to be a real winner.

The images on the screen cut to black.

Voice: I am just a simple man, you may believe what you will but my truths will come to pass. A true champion shall return to Carnage Wrestling. Greatness shall return to Carnage Wrestling.YOUR IDOL SHALL RETURN!

The screen turns a bright white and a date begins to flash forward as if burned into the screen. 01-21-18. Just like last week the date fades out and a spin on a familiar catch phrase, accompanied by the narrator, appears.

Voice: Let's make Carnage Wrestling great again!

The lights come back on, with the message over as quickly as it started.

Johnny Vegas: MOTHERFUCKER I'm tired of getting interrupted!

Terra Skye: I'd really like to know who the hell this is.

Ray Payne: He is trashin da whole rostah, yo.

Terra Skye: Yeah and, he's saying "return." Who do we know that even talks like that?

Johnny Vegas: Who has a problem with fucking everybody?

Terra Skye: Maybe Aries Reed finally worked out a contract.

Johnny Vegas: Or maybe it's Jackson. Remember that guy?

Ray Payne: Or mebbies Dr. Winn finally remembahed where da ball pit is.

Johnny Vegas: Oh god that would be such a let down. HORRIBLE SURPRISE.

Match Three: Harry Hampton vs. Lord Raab

Terra Skye: Well either way, apparently they'll be at Act of Defiance, although we don't know in what capacity yet.

Johnny Vegas: Well as long as he doesn't interrupt me anymore, we'll get along fine.

Ray Payne: Yu don get along with nobody, doh.

Johnny Vegas: I made a New Year's Resolution to be nicer.

Terra Skye: How's that working out for you so far?

Johnny Vegas: I haven't called you a bitch yet, have I?

The Carnagetron statics as the lights dim down, suddenly a countdown is shown on the tron.


Harry Hampton: Hae a guid day!

After Hampton's voice booms through the arena, The lights cut off as "Final Countdown" plays. A single spotlight hits the stage as Harry Hampton stands in it his back to the audience.

Harry Hampton

Kelly Carmichael: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring first...standing five foot eleven and weighing in at two hundred and two pounds...from Edinburgh, Scotland...”The Scottish Hotty” Harry Hampton!

Wearing a leather jacket with the name Hampton on the back, An image of a lock hanging from the 'O'. He turns around holding his arms wide with thumbs up then he turns them down as fireworks go off behind him. He makes his way down the ring high fiving fans taking off his shades and putting them on one of the fans. He slides under the ring getting on his knees and extends his arms again as fans throw mini Scottish Flags into the ring.
Terra Skye: And here comes Harry Hampton!

Ray Payne: Is you two official, yo?

Johnny Vegas: Yeah, you fuckin' that yet?

Terra Skye: Tactful as always. And it's really none of your fucking business, old man. I'm not here to fulfill you masturbation fantasies.

Johnny Vegas: Please, like I'd ever waste the lotion to jack it to you.


"Monster" by Skillet plays over the sound system as Lord Raab comes out through the curtain wearing his red and black wrestling trousers with his nickname The Masked German Monster on the front of them with Monster Energy logos on the side of his trousers with black gloves on both of his hands and wears a black and red stripy mask.

Lord Raab

Raab ignores the fans as he goes up the stairs before going in-between the ropes and crouches down in the corner moving backwards and forwards, rubbing his hands and moving his neck around while looking at his opponent with anger in his eyes while waiting for the match to start.

Kelly Carmichael: And his opponent...hailing from Cologne, Germany. He stands six foot four, weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds. He is “The Masked German Monster” Lord Raab!!

Johnny Vegas: And now here's the part where your boyfriend dies.

Terra Skye: I have no idea why Harry agreed to this match. I know he beat Avenger but..

Ray Payne: Mistah Robbie is a lot bigger dan Avengah, yo.

Johnny Vegas: And a lot more vicious.

Terra Skye: I just hope he knows what he's doing, because Raab has been angry ever since Tweeder lit him on fire.

Johnny Vegas: Maybe he'll kill him quickly.

The bell starts off with Raab making a lunge at Hampton who ducks the charge. Raab turns and Hampton stiff him with an uppercut. Hampton quickly runs to the ropes and bounces off. Raab shakes off the shot and goes for a clothesline as Hampton ricochets off of the ropes. Hampton ducks the clothesline by “The Masked German Monster”. On the rebound Hampton leaps up hitting a cross body on Raab. Cover, but Raab, using both of his arms, presses Hampton off of him with authority as Hampton rolls with it. Raab starts to get up and Hampton rushes to the ropes and catches Raab with a dropkick to the head as Raab is in a sitting up position to a massive pop from the fans who yell out “Ay!”.

Terra Skye: Hampton's doing the right thing here. He's gotta stick and move if he wants to beat Raab.

Johnny Vegas: "Beat" Raab? He's going to be lucky to survive Raab!

Terra Skye: Forgive me if I have a little more confidence in Harry than you do.

Ray Payne: I likes Mistah Harries but I dun no if he can do it, yo.


Hampton gets up and poses for a brief moment as he hits the ropes again. Raab slowly gets up and bides his time. Hampton bounces off the ropes and looks to go for another dropkick but Raab rolls out of the ring. Hampton switches direction and lines up with Raab. He leaps over the top rope and crashes down on Raab with a flying clothesline over the top rope. Hampton quickly gets back into the ring to a thunderous “Ay!” from the crowd. Raab gets up and slams his hands on the ring apron in frustration as he rolls into the ring. Hampton bounces off the ropes and ducks a shot from Raab. Hampton rebounds and Raab goes for a swing. Hampton ducks it and then spanks Raab on the arse...

Johnny Vegas: Oh my lord. The kid has a death wish.

Boy: The frosting falls onto the ceiling. It does not sit well with grandma!

Terra Skye: Harry, what the fuck did you just do?

Ray Payne: Dis is nots da time fa fun, yo.

Hampton chuckles as he got away with it only to get taken down by a short arm clothesline with authority from Lord Raab! Hampton flips before hitting the mat face first. Raab brings down a devastating elbow to the back of Hampton's neck. Raab gets up and, one handed, pulls up Hampton by the back of the neck and throws him into the corner. Raab runs up to hit Hampton with a big boot to the head, but Hampton ducks it. Hampton rolls onto the mat and then jumps up. He springboards off...into the waiting hands of Lord Raab. Raab holds up Hampton into a press slam position, doing a few presses, as he walks to the other end of the ring and chucks Hampton headfirst into the corner of the announce table!

Terra Skye: SHIT!!

Ray Payne: I herd his head clunks, yo.

Johnny Vegas: Raab is a vicious motherfucker. I fucking told you.

Terra Skye: We might have to get some damn paramedics out here. I think he's bleeding!

Hampton is down and not moving as Raab gets out of the ring and grabs Hampton. Hampton's face is finally seen. His forehead is busted open from hitting the corner of the announcer's table. Raab tosses Hampton over the top rope hitting back first on the mat. Raab gets into the ring and Hampton starts to crawl away. Raab runs up and kicks the shit out of Hampton's ribs sending Hampton rolling to the corner. Raab picks up Hampton and sets him up for a DDT! Raab gets up and does a throat cut motion. He waits for Hampton to get to the corner and pull himself up. Raab grabs Hampton by the throat and hoists him up. He turns and runs to the center of the ring hitting a massive chokeslam!

Terra Skye: Okay Raab. You hurt him enough. Just pin him.

Ray Payne: I don dink he wants ta do that, yo.

Johnny Vegas: I told you Terra. Harry's dead.

Terra Skye: Damn it! just...just shut up! Come on, Harry...

Raab gets up and then grabs Hampton. He tosses the bloodied Scotsman into the ropes and then clotheslines him! Raab grabs Hampton again and tosses him into the ropes. Big Boot to the head! A third time Raab picks up Hampton and tosses him into the ropes to pay him back for the speed offense earlier. Hampton hits the ropes but leaps onto them and springboards off hitting Raab with a Tornado DDT!

Terra Skye: YES! HOLY SHIT!

Ray Payne: Dat was a good move, yo!

Johnny Vegas: Well I'll be damned, he spiked him there!

Ray Payne: Now he need to follah up, yo.

Both men are down. Hampton tries to fire himself up and get to his feet as the crowd cheer him on. Raab sits up and grabs Hampton from behind with a Release German Suplex! Raab picks up Hampton and puts him into a Dragon Sleeper. Suddenly Raab whips around turning into a neckbreaker like move. He picks up Hampton to sit him up for a belly to belly suplex, but Hampton leaps up and headbutts Raab in the head! This semi-stuns Raab who backs up a bit. Harry scrambles and uses whatever strength he has left to hoist Raab onto the nearest turnbuckle. Raab fights off with a throat thrust, forcing Hampton down to the mat.

Terra Skye: I don't know what Harry was going for but Raab's not gonna let him do anything off the top.

Johnny Vegas: Raab's not letting him do much of anything, period.

Ray Payne: He needs ta get back up, yo.

Just as Ray says that on commentary, Harry gets a burst of energy and kips up to his feet, jumps up the ropes and connects with a huge knee to the face, stunning the giant man on top. Harry grabs the head and the arms and uses gravity to do the work, pulling Raab off the top with a HUGE SUPERPLEX!


Hampton and Raab are both down, and Hampton crawls onto a lateral press, with all of his weight across Raab's chest.




Terra Skye: How in the fuck did he do that? Harry had him dead to rights!

Johnny Vegas: NO ONE has Raab dead to rights, Terra. And that might have been Harry's last gasp.

Ray Payne: He shud do da boot to da face, yo. It might works.

Terra Skye: Or something. This is the first time he'd had Raab down for a two count.

Harry is bewildered that the huge superplex didn't get the job done, but he refuses to give up. He waits for Raab to pick himself up and then runs and springboards off the ropes, hitting him with a Harry Cutter! Raab doesn't go down! Hampton doesn't stop, and instead uses his core strength to lift Raab up just enough to hit an atomic drop, the set-up to his big boot. He bounces off the ropes and leaps in the air...BUT RAAB CATCHES HIS BOOT! Raab shoves Harry backward and he falls back into the turnbuckles with a thud. As he bounces off, Raab places a hand around his throat...ANOTHER CHOKESLAM!

Terra Skye: Well, Harry gave it a good run ,but I think it's over now.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah, he'll probably go for that Killerbuster of his and end it.

Ray Payne: Mistah Harries tried hard, Miss Terra.

Terra Skye: Yeah. At least he got to look good there.

But instead of going for his finish, Raab has another idea in mind. He rolls outside of the ring, lifting up the skirt on the apron and pulls out...a jug of gasoline.

Terra Skye: WHAT THE FUCK?

Johnny Vegas: Oh god. I don't think I'm ready to remember what burning flesh smells like.

Ray Payne: Somebodies gonna have to stop dis, yo.

Raab enters the ring where Hampton is now on his belly, crawling to the ropes to try to pull himself up. Raab removes the cap from the container and begins dumping foul-smelling gasoline all over Hampton. Members of the Carnage Legion begin to  gasp, and then cry out once Raab tosses down the container and pulls a lighter from his tights.

Terra Skye: Damn it! I'm going in there!

Johnny Vegas: What the fuck are you going to do, Terra?

Terra Skye: Probably get my ass beat, but I can't let Harry get burned! Just because Raab got burned once doesn't mean other people have to suffer!

Suddenly, the crowd roars as we see TWEEDER appear on the stage...AND HE HAS HIS WEED WHACKER!



Johnny Vegas: I never thought I'd be happy to see that fucker.

Ray Payne: Go get 'em, Mistah Tweed!

Raab's face is covered by the mask, but the camera manages to pick up the rage in one of his wide-eyes. He forgets what he's doing with Hampton and immediately leaves the ring, stalking up the ramp to attack Tweeder again. Tweeder actually tosses down the weed whacker and the brawl is on! The two begin to lay into each other with haymakers, and fight back through the curtain and out of sight. Meanwhile...referee Ed Hawkersby is in the ring and has begun to motion for the bell. He speaks to Kelly Carmichael, who makes an announcement.

Kelly Carmichael: Ladies and gentlemen, I've just been informed that as a result of a COUNTOUT...YOUR WINNER IS HARRY HAMPTON!!!!!

The Carnage Legion roars with approval, and Harry is up to his feet, overjoyed at his win.

Terra Skye: I didn't even hear Hawkersby counting!

Johnny Vegas: Did I hear that right? HARRY HAMPTON BEAT LORD RAAB?

Ray Payne: Well it was because Raab lefts, but..

Terra Skye: A win's a win, Ray! And considering we thought Harry was about to get burned alive, I think we'll all take it!

Johnny Vegas: Who knows where the fuck those two are fighting now? Hopefully they don't kill an innocent stagehand. Unless it's Silva.

Match Four: Amber Ryan vs. Brian Crucifix vs. Trent Steel

Johnny Vegas: It's nice you see things my way. And yet when I say that about CON wins you shit on me.

Terra Skye: There's a big difference between cheating and Harry surviving a murder attempt.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah if you're BIASED.

Ray Payne: Come on guyses, we wus just gettin along!

Johnny Vegas: Too late. I hate her again.


It’s the tinkling of the eerie music box that brings the lights down, the crowd murmuring with anticipation, as slowly and silently the big screens seems to crack one by one. Shadows lurk curiously, distorted by the cracks as an almost mechanical synth leads into the stutter of heavy guitar. Red lights pulse in time as the lights flicker erratically casting light and dark chaotically, the mechanical synth returns as a female silhouette materializes amid the pulsating red and dark to a mixed reaction. Most cheer in appreciation of the show that they’re about to witness but many jeer due to her previous affiliations and general devil-just-doesn't-give-a-fuck attitude.

Amber Ryan

Maria Brink’s almost taunting, sarcastic lyrics lead the ‘Distorted Angel’ down as fans look for acknowledgement, extending hands and waving signs but most recieve little more than a sharp nod or sly wink for their efforts. She circles the ring, messing with whichever ring crew and staff that happen to be within vicinity before methodically and deliberately sliding beneath the bottom rope and crossing to one of the far corners.

Baby go ahead
I'll be your hatred and your pain
This is killing us all
I don't care if I fall
We're the dying, we are the damned

Climbing the turnbuckle left handed, she watches out over the crowd to gauge the reaction, returning the mixed reaction with an acknowledging nod of her own before somewhat turning awkwardly on the spot and taking a seat upon the top turnbuckle.

I know I don't belong in this scene
Sex metal barbie, homicidal queen.

With hands clasped and elbows resting on her knees- that familiar Distorted Angel smirk ever present across her face as she waits for the fun to really begin.

Kelly Carmichael: Ladies and gentlemen, this is a triple threat, with the winner selecting the stipulation for the tag team title match at Act of Defiance! Introducing first, from Rockport, Texas, weighing in at 142 pounds, she is the DISTORTED ANGEL...AMBER RYAN!

Terra Skye: Okay, here's what I think. Paragon pretty much won War Games, and would have done so together if Crucifix hadn't interfered. So I think Amber Ryan's taking this and they got the tag match at AoD.

Johnny Vegas: Are you fucking kidding me? CON is way smarter than either of them and they won last week even with Boy's stupid rules.

Boy: Breathing works for the fishes! Fence stealing Fence and the Fat man!

Johnny Vegas: SEE?

Ray Payne: I likes da Rogues, yo. Mistah Steely beat both of CON by himself once.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah, after like a MOUNTAIN of inteference! What match were YOU watching?

Terra Skye: Either way, none of the partners are supposed to be out here, and Ryan has proven herself to be formidable here in Carnage.

"Bleed the Freak" by Alice in Chains starts to play as the lights flicker and go down. Out of the entranceway comes Trent Steel as smoke comes out of the entranceway.

Kelly Carmichael: Her opponents, first...from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, weighing in at an even two-hundred pounds...TRRRREEEEEEEEENNNNT SSSSTEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL!!!

Trent Steel

Trent runs down to the ring and slides in. He then removes his black oakleys with red lenses and his trench coat. He goes to one of the ring corners and does a quick "Hail Mary". He then turns out of the corner, waiting for the match to start.

Johnny Vegas: I mean seriously Ray, how can you root for a guy who only got a tag title shot because his partner decided he wanted one?

Ray Payne: He beat da champs, yo.

Terra Skye: A win's a win, Johnny. You said that.

Johnny Vegas: But not when it's against CON! CON is the best at everything!

Ray Payne: 'cept beatin Mistah Steely.

Terra Skye: At any rate, all three of these competitors were locked inside of War Games and especially on the part of Ryan and Crucifix, are likely ready to resume hostilities as soon as possible.

His music fades out and almost immediately the image of a blue mask appears on the tron as "Parade of The Dead" by Black Label Society begins to play over the sound system. A man in a hood walks out on the entrance ramp, looking down at the floor.

Brian Crucifix

He slowly raises his head to look to the ring before throwing back his hood to reveal a mask that resembles the one on screen. Crucifix throws the mask down on the ground before charging down to the ring. He slides inside the ring and glares at his opponents, holding his half of the CW Tag Team titles high in the air.

Kelly Carmichael: And their opponent, from Charlotte, North Carolina, he weighs in at 210 pounds and is one half of the CARNAGE WRESTLING TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS....BRIAN CRUCIFIX!

Johnny Vegas: WOO! CRUCI!

Terra Skye: You couldn't be more transparent if you were made of glass.

Johnny Vegas: At least I'm fucking honest. You want Paragon to win and you're hiding behind statistics.

Ray Payne: I just wants a good match, yo.

Terra Skye: I just want to earn a paycheck and go home. Sitting next to you fucks tires me out.

Boy: Oranges grace us with their presence!

Terra Skye: My point exactly.

Steel hangs back in one corner, watching over both competitors intently.  Crucifix tugs at the top rope in a display of strength.  Ryan strides confidently towards the center of the ring, approaching the referee, but just before Referee Hawkersby waves toward Boy to ring in the start of the match, Crucifix cold-cocks Ryan in the back of the head with a sneak attack.  Steel steps forward out of the corner, clapping slowly in encouragement, while Crucifix pulls Ryan up and into a rear chinlock, choking her and dragging her back towards the corner with the sounding of the bell.  Crucifix reaches the corner, pulling himself up until he's seated on the top turnbuckle, lifting Ryan until her feet are dangling above the canvas while Crucifix holds her in a hangman's choke.  Steel lowers himself into a three point stance, and then explodes at Ryan with a running shoulder block.  Ryan kicks up both feet at the last moment, greeting Steel with a pair of double boots to the face.  Then bracing both feet on the middle ropes, Ryan tucks herself forward, lifting Crucifix from the turnbuckle so he's riding on her back in a backpack sleeper, and then rolling forward from the turnbuckles with a somersault drop that causes Crucifix to flip through, striking the mat and landing with Ryan on top of him.

Terra Skye: I never thought I'd see Trent Steel and Brian Crucifix work together but there you go.

Johnny Vegas: Hey, we all do things we don't like.

Ray Payne: Mebbies dey dink she's da bigga threat.

Terra Skye: Or maybe they just want to eliminate her and fight among themselves. I don't know.

Johnny Vegas: Either way, it didn't work. For now. Cruci will get it done.

Ryan rolls back to her feet, ducking a clothesline attempt from Steel swinging through with a floatover ddt, driving Steel to the canvas.  Crucifix begins to stand, but Ryan drills him in the side of the head with a vicious knee, knocking him back to the mat before he can even fully reach his feet.  Ryan kneels beside Crucifix, placing one knee over the back of Crucifix's elbow, then taking hold of him by the wrist and wrenching his elbow in reverse.  Crucifix claps his hand over the bottom rope, and Referee Hawkersby admonishes Ryan to break the hold, but without the threat of disqualification, Ryan shows no interest in releasing Crucifix, instead jerking backwards on his arm regardless, seeking to inflict pain and injury moreso than chase a submission.  Crucifix screams in pain, trying to press himself up from the canvas enough that he could roll over and ease the pressure, but Ryan pauses for just long enough to spike an elbow down between Crucifix's shoulderblades and drive him back to the canvas before wrenching at his arm again.  For a moment, it appears there is no escape for Crucifix, until Steel rolls over the top of Ryan, catching her by the head as he somersaults through and bringing her face first to the canvas with a standing overcastle.

Terra Skye: Ryan just about had that one!

Johnny Vegas: Oh please. Crucifix could have taken a lot more pain than that.

Ray Payne: I dunno, Mistah Jonnies. He looked like he mit tap.

Johnny Vegas: Bullshit. Crucifix never gives up!

Terra Skye: Either way, Steel broke things up and the match continues. Try to keep things on track, guys.

Steel pulls Ryan up by the hair, swinging her around and sending her spilling through the ropes and to the floor.  Then launching himself over the top rope with a one-armed bound, Steel drops like a rock, crashing down over the top of Ryan with a falling elbow spike.  Steel pulls Ryan upright, swinging her around with an irish whip and slamming her into the guardrail.  Crucifix rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope to join them at ringside, and Steel begins barking orders, retrieving a pair of folding chairs from the front row of the crowd.  Steel hands off one of the chairs to Crucifix, getting into position for the two man chair sandwich on Ryan, but as Steel swings, cracking Ryan in the side of the head, Crucifix instead turns, slamming his own chair down over the top of Steel's skull.  Steel pauses, turning towards Crucifix and smiling.  Crucifix smashes Steel over the skull a second time, a blow which Steel doesn't even attempt to avoid, instead relishing in it, provoking Crucifix and daring him to do it again.  Crucifix raises the chair for a third time, but this time Steel doesn't simply stand and wait to be struck.  Instead, Steel springs forward, driving a hard knee into Crucifix's stomach to stun him, and then Steel slams his own face into Crucifix's chair with a headbutt the drives the chair backward out of Crucifix's hands and squarely into his jaw.  Scooping Crucifix into a double underhook, Steel hikes Crucifix up while the chair is fumbled between them, bringing Crucifix down with a brutal gutbuster while bracing the chair over his knee.

Johnny Vegas: Fuck me, Steel is crazier than I thought.

Terra Skye: Watch it, Vegas. He might beat your ass again.

Johnny Vegas: How do you think I know how crazy he is?

Ray Payne: He gon concuss hisself, yo!

Johnny Vegas: At this point he's probably had so many concussions he's immune.

Terra Skye: Or he's got so much brain damage he doesn't feel it.

Ryan takes hold of Steel by the back of the head, pulling him away from Crucifix and swinging him around, launching Steel into the turnbuckle post.  While Crucifix tries to stand, Ryan goes for another dismissive kick to his face, but this time Crucifix is ready, catching Ryan by the ankle and wrenching her over with a dragon screw.  Ryan is quick back to her feet, but this time Crucifix is waiting for her, and as she shoots in with big left hook, Crucifix sidesteps and then shoves her from behind, sending Ryan spilling forward so that she strikes Steel instead.  Steel retaliates, wrapping his arms around Ryan and hiking her up before slamming her to the cement floor with a powerful spinebuster.  Crucifix bounces on top of Ryan's chest with a double foot stomp before driving a stiff uppercut to Steel's stomach, doubling him over, and then twisting him to the floor with a swinging neckbreaker.  Crucifix snaps one of the folding chairs open, setting it up on the flood and then dragging Ryan upright, hooking her over the head into ddt position.  Crucifix hikes Ryan up with an implant ddt directed towards the seat of the opened chair, but Ryan kicks the chair backwards out of the way, rolling through as Crucifix bares her down.  Ryan lands upside-down, seated in the chair, her head snapping free from Crucifix's grip before impact.  Ryan rolls out of the chair, hoisting it up and then planting it firmly over top of Crucifix, using the chair to pin him to the floor.

Terra Skye: I don't know what Amber has in mind here, but it won't be good for the champion!

Johnny Vegas: Steel, where the fuck are you? Cruci's in trouble!

Ray Payne: Mistah Steely should just sit it out and let him get hurt, yo.

Johnny Vegas: The hell he should!

Terra Skye: It really would be smart strategy. It's what CON would do.

Johnny Vegas: Don't turn my own logic against me! I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT.

Ryan stands on top of the chair's seat, using her body weight to pin Crucifix to the ground.  Steel stalks wide around Ryan, circling to the commentary table where he lingers, eye to eye with Johnny Vegas.  With one finger, he pokes Johnny Vegas in the forehead, pushing him backward, away from the table, and then scoops up Vegas's microphone, holding it by the cord and beginning to slowly spin it in circles.

Johnny Vegas: Motherfucker! I thought we were cool now!

Terra Skye: That's probably why he only pushed you slightly.

Ray Payne: And he diden take ya belts, yo.

Steel lashes out with the microphone cord, swinging it at Ryan, and Ryan leaps into the air to hurdle over the swing.  Crucifix shoves the chair up to free himself, but Ryan lands squarely on the opened seat again, forcing it right back down over top of him.  Steel swings the microphone about again, and this time Ryan blocks it with her forearm, the cord wrapping around her wrist.  Then, with a forward yank, Ryan jerks Steel off balance and towards her, delivering a staggering knee to his face.  Steel crashes into Ryan, toppling her and the chair over, and Crucifix bursts back to his feet. Ryan stumbles, keeping her footing as she lands, only to be greeted by a forearm shot from Crucifix which sprawls her out over the commentary table.

Terra Skye: Look out!

Johnny Vegas: Normally I like a hot redhead in my lap but this is ridiculous!

Ray Payne: Don't let her hear you say dat, Mistah Jonnies.

Terra Skye: Yeah, you don't want two people pissed at you.

Johnny Vegas: I think she's got bigger concerns at the moment!

Crucifix takes Ryan by the hair, jerking her head up and then bouncing it stiffly against the table.  Then, with a saloon style drag, he slides her down the table and sends her crashing to the floor.  Placing a boot over Ryan's throat, Crucifix grinds his heel in, choking the life out of Ryan, while Steel climbs onto the apron, scrambling up the turnbuckle.  Steel launches himself through the air and comes crashing down on the outside with the Black Winged Angel, smashing into both Crucifix and Ryan at the same time and leaving all three of them tangled in a heap of bodies.


Terra Skye: Trent Steel risking life and limb to even the odds against his opponents!

Johnny Vegas: Fucker's crazy! How many times do I have to say it?

Ray Payne: He's also bein smarts, yo. He hurted dem both equals.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah, as well as his own damn self! Pay attention!

Slowly, Steel rises from the wreckage, pulling up Crucifix first propping him against the security railing.  Then Steel takes hold of Ryan, hiking her up and then gutwrenching her overhead in powerbomb position.  Steel holds her high for a moment, turning around so she is positioned over the metal ring steps, and then spikes her down hard, but Ryan scissors her legs around Steel's neck, swinging him through and sending him spilling to the floor with a huricarana.  Ryan crawls towards the ring apron and then rolls under the skirting, while Crucifix stumbles towards Steel, pulling him back up and into a side headlock, and then dragging him towards the ring.  Crucifix slings Steel up and into a fireman's carry, and then dumps him back into the ring with a gorilla press, but as Crucifix tries to follow his opponent into the ring, Ryan snakes a hand out from beneath the ring skirting, catching hold of Crucifix by the ankle and pulling him backwards, calling him to slip and spill back to the floor.  Ryan emerges from beneath the ring, dragging out a large cardboard box, and kicks Crucifix once while he's down before she flips open the cardboard box to reveal rows upon rows of halogen light bulbs used for the stage lighting.

Johnny Vegas: Well there goes our budget for the rest of the month.

Ray Payne: Now you cants drink, yo.

Johnny Vegas: Oh hell no. I need my supply of booze.

Terra Skye: Amber Ryan brought out some toys of her own, and Crucifix and Steel are gonna hate what she does with them!

Ryan draws a long, tube-style lightbulb from the box, gripping it at one end as though it were a baseball bat.  Then sliding under the bottom rope, she reenters the ring, taking a swing at Steel as he finally begins to rise, only for Steel to duck the swing and batter Ryan to the ribs with standing side kick.  Steel flips Ryan over with a tilt-a-whirl slam, planting her firmly on her back, and then makes the cover, but Crucifix grabs Steel by the ankle from ringside and pulls him off of Ryan before Referee Hawkersby can even make the one count.  Crucifix rolls himself into the ring, curb stomping the back of Ryan's head as she starts to rise, and then turning his attention to Steel, buffeting Steel with a series of body blows that force Steel back towards the corner.  Steel responds with a knife edge chop across the front of Crucifix's throat before swinging Crucifix around and slamming him into the corner.  Ryan raises, laying in wait, while Steel hammers away at Crucifix with a series of rights and lefts, then hooking Crucifix up for a ddt.  Crucifix hooks his arm over the top rope as Steel tries to spike him down, and Steel finds himself off-balance and unable to take down the tag team champion, only for Crucifix to then muscle Steel up and over his shoulders as a counter.  Crucifix hikes Steel up in death valley driver positioning and then spikes him into the turnbuckles with Steel's own Pittsburg Nightmare.  Steel smashes into the corner, fumbling down towards the canvas, and tangles his leg in the process, leaving him hanging upside-down in the tree of woe.  That is the moment when Ryan finally pounces, brandishing the tube lighting in both hands and smashing it across Crucifix's back, leaving the ring covered with shards of broken glass.

Terra Skye: SHIT! That light tube exploded on Crucifix's body!

Johnny Vegas: Steel was right there and helpless, why didn't she just use it on him?

Ray Payne: Mebbies because Cruci was dah bigga threats at da time, yo.

Johnny Vegas: He's the bigger threat at all times!

Terra Skye: Well there you go. You answered your own question.

Johnny Vegas: DAMN IT!

Ryan takes hold of Crucifix by both ankles, trying to turn him over and into a boston crab, facedown in the broken glass, but Crucifix kicks backward with both legs into Ryan's midsection, forcing her back while he scrambles to his feet.  Crucifix locks in with Ryan for a collar-arm tie-up, muscling her back towards the ropes.  Then pulling Ryan into a front facelock, Crucifix hikes Ryan upright into vertical suplex position before spiking her down hard with a brainbuster.  Crucifix covers Ryan, hooking a leg, but Steel finally frees himself from the tree of woe.



THR...NO! Steel dives in, slamming Crucifix over the back with a double axe-handle and breaking the pinfall.

Terra Skye: Steel barely got in there but he managed to break things up!

Johnny Vegas: They just don't make trees of woe like that used to.

Ray Payne: Da match continues! Come on, Mistah Steely!

Johnny Vegas: Cruci's gonna kick his ass and you know it.


Steel drags Crucifix up, swinging him around and then jerking him back in, drilling Crucifix with a short-arm clothesline.  Ryan struggles back to her feet, and Steel greets her with a heel kick to the side.  Ryan catches Steel by the ankle, trapping his leg for a dragon screw, but flips through instead, booting her to the side of the face with an inziguri.  Ryan falters to one knee, and Steel pulls her upright with a guillotine choke, only for Crucifix to spear into the side of both of them, taking down both Ryan and Steel.  Crucifix drags Ryan up, planting her hard to the canvas with the Black Heart Crisis.  Tying her into a small package, Crucifix makes the cover. 



THR--NO! Steel boots Crucifix in the back of the head, breaking the pinfall.

Terra Skye: And Trent Steel breaks up another pinfall!

Johnny Vegas: This thing is gonna go all night if they can't get him out of there.

Ray Payne: Dey is tirin out and Trent is gonna win. I knows it.

Terra Skye: You may be right, and who knows what stipulation Steel would have in mind.

Johnny Vegas: Probably Russian Roulette, knowing his nutso ass.

Steel takes hold of Crucifix by the wrist and ankle, and swings him around with a sideways airplane spin, releasing Crucifix and sending him tumbling through the field of broken glass.  Then Steel stalks across the ring, pausing only to curb stomp the back of Crucifix's head, leaving him still on the canvas while Steel ascends the turnbuckle. From out of the crowd, Robert Zodiac slips over the security railing, sneaking towards the ring while Steel climbs. 

Robert Zodiac


Terra Skye: He's not supposed to be! Tag partners were supposed to stay in the back!

Ray Payne: CON nevah listens to da rulsies, yo.

Then, pulling himself up and onto the apron, he gives Steel a shove off of the turnbuckle, sending Steel plummeting the fourteen foot drop to the outside, and crashing directly into the opened box of lightbulbs.  Blood pools on the floor around him, seeping out the bottom of the box, but Steel... laughs.  Trent Steel begins laughing, climbing up and out of the broken glass, while dripping blood from his shreaded clothes.  Then Steel pounces on Zodiac, the two exchanging fists at ringside.  Crucifix crawls towards Ryan, who is only now beginning to move following the package piledriver.  Pulling Ryan back to her feet, Crucifix swings her around with an irish whip towards the corner, setting Ryan up for the Crucifixion, but Ryan dos-e-dos the whip, spinning Crucifix around and bringing him backward into a stiff knee.  Crucifix doubles over and Ryan locks him in with a double underhook.  Original Sin!   Ryan drapes herself across Crucifix with a lateral press.




Kelly Carmichael: Here is your winner, AMBER RYAN! As a result, the match at Act of Defiance will be a LAS VEGAS STREET FIGHT!

Johnny Vegas: WOO! Vegas here I come!

Terra Skye: Wait, you're happy Crucifix lost?

Johnny Vegas: Fuck no, but at least I get a free trip out of it. They'll win at the PPV.

Ray Payne: Mistah Zody tried to helps his partnah and it backfiyahed, yo.

Johnny Vegas: It only backfired because Amber Ryan is too stupid to stay down.

Terra Skye: And yet she's the winner, so what does that say about your precious team?

Johnny Vegas: That we'll get 'em next time.

An Act of Defiance

The camera comes back from a momentary break to show that the ring has been set up for the signing of the main event contract for Act of Defiance. Already in the ring, with a thinly veiled smile on his face, is Jason Bridges, who seems to draw energy from the largely negative reaction from the Legion. He simply stands at one end of the table, facing the hard camera as he lets the fans voice their displeasure for a few moments longer.

Jason Bridges

Jason Bridges: Well, ladies and gentlemen… We all know what time it is. First of all, I have a little announcement to make. I've just come to an arrangement which sees the creation of the very first STARMAKER ladder match at Act of Defiance. Nine of our best and brightest, including one mystery opponent, will compete for a briefcase. In that briefcase, a title shot of their choosing at any time or any place. That means one of them could cash in on a champion as soon as the very next match, if they so desired.

The Legion actually cheers this announcement, even if it's coming from a man they hate.

Jason Bridges: Now, let’s not waste any time here. At this time, I’d like for the person defending his title in two weeks to come to the ring. Presenting, the reigning and defending Ultraviolent Champion…Will Prydor.

Bridges’ lack of enthusiasm is not reflected from the Legion as the one-time Baltimore native heads to the ring to the beat of Sixx:A.M.’s “Rise” and a rousing ovation. Walking with a purpose, his expression gives away nothing as he steps between the ropes and makes a beeline for the side of the table furthest from the entrance ramp. Placing his belt on the table, Prydor takes a step back, then rears back and raises his face to the heavens above as he, and a surprisingly large amount of the Legion, lets out his traditional war cry of “For the fallen.” Lowering his gaze, Prydor stares down the entrance ramp, basically ignoring the Network rep as he waits for his next challenger to arrive.

Will Prydor

Jason Bridges: And his opponent… The reigning Carnage Wrestling World Champion, whose title is not at stake in two weeks… The Good Doctor herself, Amy Jo Smyth!

“Shoot to Thrill” by Halestorm hits and only seconds later, Amy Jo Smyth saunters on out wearing jeans, her black ‘time's up’ t-shirt, a black knitted cap with the logo for the long defunct but not completely forgotten Baltimore Bandits hockey team, and famous oversized gold hoodie. But the most important and most noticeable thing is the Carnage Wrestling World Title around her waist. She walks slowly, listening to the cheers of the crowd, and looks between the crowd and the two men standing in the ring watching her every movement.

Amy Jo Smyth

As if just to be that much more annoying, she slows down and starts fist-bumping the fans who've had the luck of getting front row seats. When she reaches ringside, she throws her fist up to the delight of the crowd. After that, she climbs up the stairs, steps into the ring, and grins at the men, having proudly wasted so much of their time.

Jason Bridges: If you could both take a seat, we’ll get this formality done with.

Neither sit, just stare at the chairs, each other, and Mr. Bridges. Smyth grabs a chair, folds it back up, and literally takes it. Both men flinch and take a few steps back, ready to go on the defense. Somewhat over the crowd, caught by the hot mic, and the rest inferred by reading lips, Smyth tells the men that she “what? I took a seat” and shrugs. Prydor smiles and Smyth giggles. The crowd has a quick laugh, too. Bridges, unmoved, shakes his head and gets back to business.

Jason Bridges: In front of you is the contract that all parties agreed on for Act of Defiance. One-on-one, one fall to a finish for Prydor’s Ultraviolent Championship. Prydor, if you’d go ahead and sign the contract…

Bridges pushes the paper and pen closer in front of him.

Will Prydor: No, I’d like to defer to Dr. Smyth on this. Only polite for the lady to go first.

Bridges looks like he wants to say something, but manages to restrain himself as Smyth grabs the contract off the table. Smyth leans the folded chair up against the ropes with great care and warns them not to touch it. With a little flair, she removes a pair of wire framed eyeglasses from her hoodie pocket and places them on her face. She lifts the paper closer to her face, pulling it closer and then pushing it away, as if straining to read it. Bridges glares at her and the antics.

Smyth gets frustrated, tears the glasses off her face, examines them closely, and chucks them into the crowd. Once removed, she can finally see it and nods. She reads through the pages one by one, stopping to lick her finger each time. The seconds just tick away and the annoyance shows on Bridges’ face. She eyeballs the pen being held out by Bridges but completely ignores it and instead, pulls out her own and clicks it with intensity and dramatics. Leaning against the table but never sitting, she scribbles her name across the paper and presents it back to Bridges with a proud grin on her face.

Jason Bridges: The challenger has signed… Now all that’s left, Prydor, is for you to sign and we can make this official.

Will turns the contract towards him, also giving it a once-over. However, he’s barely gotten time to look at it before he’s interrupted.

Jason Bridges: Everything’s the same, Prydor. Just sign it!

Will Prydor: You gave Dr. Smyth plenty of time to review the contract, Bridges. Allow me the same courtesy.

Jason Bridges: I have a show to run, Prydor. Just sign the damn contract!

Will glares at the Network representative, but says nothing as he turns his attention back to the paper in front of him. As he flips to the second page, though, his train of thought is interrupted by glitter starting to appear on the paper. Raising his head, Prydor notices that Smyth has thrown a handful of glitter into the air over his head. What does not land on him, lands on the the contract. The Carnage World Champion has a bit of a cheeky grin on her face as moves toward Bridges. Bridges shakes his head and warns her against what she has on her mind. That doesn't stop her, though, and throws another fistful of pocket glitter into the air over the authorities head. Bridges is less than happy about it and quickly brushes it off of his suit. Smyth just laughs, steps away, and throws another random fistful of glitter into the air, one that hits nobody but sure looks pretty as it rains down to the mat.

Jason Bridges: Damn it, Prydor! Sign the damn contract before I make it worse on you!

This time, Will stares daggers at Bridges before pouring back over the contract. A moment later, he finally nods and puts pen to paper, signing the contract and making it official, slamming the pen down on the table immediately afterwards and staring a hole through the forehead of Jason Bridges for all of two seconds before casting his gaze back across the ring, fully expecting some sort of attack that seems to be a contractual mandate at in-ring contract signings. Smyth, though, has taken her chair, places it in the corner, and has laid herself across the ropes in the corner, reclining happily.

Jason Bridges: And there you have it! It’s now official, Amy Jo Smyth will face, and likely defeat, Will Prydor for the Ultraviolent Championship in two weeks at Act of Defiance!

Bridges makes his way out of the ring. Smyth waves at him from her comfortable position across the ropes. Before Bridges gets totally out of sight at the top of the ramp, though...

Will Prydor: Oh, Jason? You might not want to leave yet. See, there’s a reason I wanted to make sure you or your toadies hadn’t altered the contract. And I’d hate to have to track you down backstage to tell you that all the work your legal team put into this document has been a colossal waste of your time and money.

Bridges turns around at the top of the ramp, and astute lip readers can see him say “What the hell?”

Will Prydor: See, I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t try to fuck me over by leaving this match open to adding additional parties to it. I wouldn’t put it past you. But to my surprise, you actually held up your end of the deal, and went through with this match as a way to punish me. But remember what I said to you before. I want to earn my world title matches, not have them handed to me. It just so happens that I’ve spent an entire year earning that match.

A slightly panicked look crosses Bridges’ face, and he starts to hurry back to the ring. Smyth literally falls off the ropes and hits the mat with a thud, clearly so shocked by the admission she has fallen off balance. She sits up and looks at Prydor, who has grabbed his copy of the contract as he rises to his feet. With a single motion, the cameras can pick up the sound of paper being torn apart. Prydor repeats this time and time and time again, until the contract more closely resembles a tile puzzle than a legal document.

Johnny Vegas: What the fuck is that fat fuck doing?

Terra Skye: I think I have an idea...

With a flourish, Prydor sends the squares of paper into the air, where they flutter to the mat like confetti.

Will Prydor: So let me make this official, Jason Bridges. This match at Act of Defiance isn’t just for the Ultraviolent Championship any longer. I’m cashing in my six points and making this a title for title match!


Terra Skye: Well he just did!

Johnny Vegas: Oh no, we have rules preventing this sort of thing! Don't we?

Ray Payne: Mistah Will wants to be da top champs, yo!

Will Prydor: As for the stipulation… I like to think I’m a fair person. So, Dr. Smyth, how about you name the stipulation for this match instead of me?

Smyth climbs to her feet, never taking her eyes off Prydor. Cautiously but with a little smirk on her face, she steps over to him and takes the microphone from her now challenger.

Amy Jo Smyth: You are one clever son’a’bitch, ain't ya? Can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing, though.

Bridges is fuming nearby them, causing a fuss and screaming all kinds of things at the two. Smyth, completely done with him, turns to face Bridges.

Amy Jo Smyth: Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

She throws an entire handful of glitter directly into his face. Bridges falls back, holding his face.

Amy Jo Smyth: God, what a douche.

The crowd and Prydor laugh.

Amy Jo Smyth: Anyway…

Smyth turns back around.

Amy Jo Smyth: So, I've done my homework and I know what you do. Blaze of Glory, Eternal Requiem… Let's make this interesting. I wanna see how versed you really are in the submissions. Submissions match. No pinfalls. Tap out or choke outs only.

The Good Doctor hands the microphone back to Prydor who nods in agreement before putting the mic on the table. Prydor then picks up his title belt before leaving the ring on the back side, allowing Smyth to stand her ground in the ring amidst the tattered remains of the original contract and make sure her challenger doesn’t make any untoward advances. For his part, Prydor calmly walks past a still-fuming Bridges, heading up the ramp with a purpose.

Smyth grabs her contract, crumbles it up, and grabs Bridges by the shoulder. Before he can react, she's got him by the head and is shoving the paper into his mouth, using it as a gag.

Amy Jo Smyth: Fuck, you're annoying as shit.

She pushes him down to the mat flat onto his back. Without anything else, she slides out of the ring and heads up the ramp.

Terra Skye: At the last possible minute, Prydor vs. Smyth is now a DOUBLE TITLE MATCH! And submissions only!!

Johnny Vegas: Damn it! That fat fuck cannot ruin two divisions, he just can't!

Ray Payne: Dat is gon be a good match, Missus Ames knows lots of submissies too!

Terra Skye: And we'll find out in two weeks which one can make the other tap out! Someone is leaving Act of Defiance with TWO BELTS!

  • Opener - Joe
  • Eli Goode vs. Johnny Love - Raggy
  • Outfoxed - Dustin & Zodiac
  • Pearl Attlee vs. Matt Angel - Joe
  • Great Again - ??
  • Lord Raab vs. Harry Hampton - Jay & Joe
  • Amber Ryan vs. Trent Steel vs. Brian Crucifix - Caleb
  • An Act of Defiance - Duane & AJS
[li]Judge - Barbie[/li][/list]
/ Chaos 48 Live! Results
« Last post by Joe on January 10, 2018, 09:23:17 PM »

Exclusively on the
January 8, 2018
The Carnage Arena - Baltimore, Maryland



Terrra Skye, Johnny Vegas & Ray Payne

Time Keeper:


Ring Announcer:

Kelly Carmichael


White Rey, Ed Hawkersby, Ref Jeff & Silent Cal

"Uprising" by Muse welcomes fans to another edition of Chaos, the last one before Act of Defiance 2018. The usual cheers and C-Dub chants are heard, with our commentary team stationed at ringside. Johnny, without a trace of irony, is proudly wearing his Lillyass title.

Johnny Vegas: The CHAMP. IS. HERE!

Terra Skye: You've been saying that for two weeks now!

Johnny Vegas: Don't get mad at me because I won a belt and you had to call your AA sponsor.

Terra Skye: We really should never have another Five Stages of Finland.

Ray Payne: I didn't noes what was happenins, yo.

Johnny Vegas: No one did. That's the fuckin' point. Bad Boy. Bad bad Boy!

Boy: Fish rains! The Tweever was made for the dying! Creatures explode!

Terra Skye: Yeah I'm sure Tweeder hates you too.

Ray Payne: But at least dins is back to normals, yo.

Terra Skye: As normal as this place gets, anyway.

Johnny Vegas: Cheer up, buttercup! THE CHAMP! IS!

Terra Skye: If you finish that I'm going to kick your wrinkled ass and take that belt from you.

Johnny Vegas: Pfft, like you could.

Ray Payne: So tonites we got da triple threats, yo.

Terra Skye: Yes, three representatives from the tag title match are fighting for the right to name the stipulation. Plus Amy Jo Smyth and Will Prydor are here to sign the contract for their Ultraviolent title match.

Johnny Vegas: Fatty coulda had a world title shot and fatty blew it. It still cracks me up.

Boy: Regis Philbin!

Terra Skye: And on that note...we should probably get to our first match.

Match One: Eli Goode vs. Johnny Love

"Beer is Good" by Psychostick begins to play on the speakers, and out comes Johnny Love swinging his arms around playing air guitar.

Kelly Carmichael: This opening contest is set for one fall! Introducing first, representing the Masked Debaters, JOHNNY LOVE!

Johnny Love

Love throws the devil horns in the air and headbangs a little, slapping hands with anyone willing to as he comes down to the ring.

Terra Skye: Well, Johnny Love's hoping to get his...second win? When the hell did he get a first win?

Johnny Vegas: Are those numbers right?

Ray Payne: All da Debatahs have at lease one wins, yo.

Terra Skye: I must have blocked them from my memory.

Johnny Vegas: There's one I hold near and dear to my heart. GARBAGE FENCE BEAT TRENT STEEL!

Terra Skye: Well now you both have something in common. Besides the fact you're garbage.

The entire arena starts black. “Carry on Wayward Son” starts playing over the speakers. Once the opening vocals end, the lights shoot on as Eli Goode stands at the top of the ramp with his arms out in a T-pose.

Kelly Carmichael: And his opponent, from Memphis, Tennessee, weighing in at 160 pounds...ELI GOODE!

Eli Goode

Goode is wearing a leather jacket with this entrance. He lowers his arms looking at the crowd. He starts walking down the ramp as the guitar solo starts playing as he rolls his shoulders around. The vocals start again as he reaches the ring steps and walks up to the side of the ring. He walks over one of the corners and hops to the middle turnbuckle. He extends his arms out again looking at the crowd with a smile on his face. He hops back to the ring mat taking off his jacket. He tosses it over the top rope to the side of the ring ready to fight.

Terra Skye: Eli Goode is making his debut and from what I've heard, it was Jack Michaels that brought him here.

Johnny Vegas: Well let's hope Jack's got better taste than whoever the fuck let Trent Steel and The Avenger into this place.

Ray Payne: Dat was Missus Kyrah, yo.

Johnny Vegas: I rest my case.

Terra Skye: He's been seen as the underdog in other places but against Johnny Love he's probably going to have to try really hard to lose.

Boy: Snack cakes! The fumble is no good!

The bell rings and the two men begin to circle each other inside of the squared circle, Eli with a very confident smirk on his lips. The two begin with a standard Collar elbow tie up. Eli with ease spins around Love and gets him in a waist lock position then lifts him off the ground and slams him back down face first into the mat. Eli lets him go and dusts his hands off giving a shrug to the fans in attendance.

Terra Skye: Eli certainly seems full of himself. The Legion's not sure what to make of him yet.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah kid, it's not really a big deal to throw Johnny around. I could do it.

Ray Payne: Me toos, yo.


Terra Skye: Boy, you're a giant, you can lift anyone!

Boy: A giant...all the way to the bank!

Ray Payne: He says dank you, yo.

Johnny Love scurries back up to his feet dusting himself off as he motions for round two of chain wrestling. Eli looks at the Ref mouthing "Is he serious?" Before shrugging again engaging into the tie up once more. Eli again gets Love in the waist lock and proceeds to slam him down again onto the mat this time going with him. He spins his body around getting Love in a front guillotine choke hold. Johnny struggles underneath, fighting to get out of the hold when suddenly Eli lets him go and stands up chuckling a bit to himself as he walks over to the opposite side near a turnbuckle.

Terra Skye: I cannot believe Johnny is trying to chain wrestle. He should stick with...well I guess nothing he's done has been successful so far.

Ray Payne: He did gets one win, doh.

Johnny Vegas: Yes, we went over that. But if we can't remember it I doubt he does.

Terra Skye: I'm pretty sure that win was by forfeit, wasn't it?

Johnny Vegas: Who the fuck knows?

Johnny is back up on his feet rubbing his neck from being in the chokehold. Johnny once again motions for the chain, to which Eli shakes his head with a laugh. Eli makes his way over once more but is caught in the face with a Drop kick from Johnny Love. Eli hits the mat back first, and holds his mouth staring at Love with a look of shock and anger. The fans in attendance pop at the first show of offense from Love.

Terra Skye: Well look at that, he hits a move!

Johnny Vegas: Well he's gonna need more than a fuckin' dropkick.

Ray Payne: Mistah Ellie not happies, yo.

Terra Skye: Now we'll see what he's really made of.

Boy: Popsicle sticks.

Ray Payne: No dose are called bones, Mistah Boy.

Eli pops up and charges at Johnny who ducks a clothesline attempt. Eli rebounds off the ropes and is sent head over heels with a hip toss from Love, landing hard on his back. Love follows up with a pin attempt!


Eli kicks out immediately and rolls away holding his jaw as he leans against the bottom rope. Johnny Love begins to play air guitar hyping the fans up even more as Eli gets back on his feet now a bit angered that Johnny got the best of him not once but twice.

Terra Skye: Eli's letting his emotions get the better of him here, and even if it is just Johnny Love, he needs to stay focused.

Johnny Vegas: I'm pretty sure if he lost this match this would be his one and only appearance in CW.

Ray Payne: And mebbies rasslin, yo.

Terra Skye: Not to take anything away from him, he's good so far, but he can't let himself get frustrated.

The two meet in the middle as Eli wraps around Love again in waist lock position Eli waists no time before folding Johnny in half with a vicious release German suplex. Eli is on one knee admiring his work as he goes for a cover.



Thr- nooo!

Love managed to get a shoulder up much to the surprise of Eli, who wraps his arm around his neck locking him in a headlock. Eli begins applying pressure, requesting the Ref ask if Johnny wishes to submit to which Johnny yells out "No!"

Terra Skye: There we go. Just like that Goode is back on offense, as we expected.

Johnny Vegas: Well it's about time. Really just getting a one count on him should be embarrasing.

Ray Payne: But da fans likes him, yo.

Johnny Vegas: The fans also like Boy, so I don't put much stock into what they say.

Boy: Fat man grills the tombstone. Sides of celery for all!

Johnny Vegas: Yeah fuck you too.

Eli keeps the pressure locked and Johnny seems to be fading until he hears the sound of the fans clapping their hands, as if trying to rally Johnny back into the match. Johnny begins to fight back up to his feet grabbing onto the top of Eli's head, he then plops down onto the mat hitting Eli with a jawbreaker, releasing the headlock in the process. Eli holds his jaw turning away for a moment before spinning back around knocking Johnny flat on his back with a stiff discus forearm strike. The impact heard throughout the arena. Eli exits the ring and begins to climb up to the top turnbuckle. He looks around at the fans flexing a bit before jumping off executing a frog splash! But no! Johnny Love raises a boot that connects with Eli's jaw laying him out now dazed.

Terra Skye: Holy shit! Goode went for a frog splash but Love somehow had the presence of mind to get a boot up!

Johnny Vegas: What the fuck is going on?

Ray Payne: I dinks he coulds win, yo.

Terra Skye: Even if he gets up from the beating he took, what offense could he possibly use?

Johnny Vegas: Maybe he'll shock him into a heart attack.

Ray Payne: Or mebbies he can hits him with his guitar.


Ray Payne: ......yes.

Johnny Vegas: I...I have nothing to say.

Terra Skye: For once.

Johnny grabs the ropes using them to stand up. He looks at the downed Eli Goode, then at the fans who at this point are cheering their heads off for Love. He smiles and takes a run to the ropes jumping onto the second rope but stays there for a moment looking as if he's securing his footing. He then moonsaults off of the rope, but Goode rolls out of the way with ease! Eli is up at this point and charges Love throwing him down with a sling blade! Eli wastes no time, picking Johnny up to his feet by his hair. He hoists Love onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry position, Eli turns his body almost throwing Love off but hooks his head and comes down with him hitting a cutter! GOODE BYE! Eli goes for the pin!




Kelly Carmichael: Here is your winner...ELI GOODE!!!

Terra Skye: He got a little too cocky in the early going but Goode finished things out with a dominate performance.

Johnny Vegas: And now he's got his first win in Carnage. Good for him. Or I guess Goode.

Ray Payne: You jus sed 'good' twice, Mistah Jonnies.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah, but one of them had an E at the end.

Terra Skye: That would only work as a written pun, you jackass.


Eli holds his jaw as he raises his other arm up in victory before leaving the ring.


The scene opens up with a visually upset Robert Zodiac pounding his way down the backstage area of the Carnage Arena. He pushes by several employees until he gets to a door marked BRIDGES. He shoves the door open and points a finger at Jason who sits behind his desk with a stack of papers in front of him.

Robert Zodiac

Robert Zodiac:  Where in the hell were you when The Rouges decided they were gonna insert themselves?!  There's a way shit is done around here Jason, and THEY CAN'T DO THAT!

Jason Bridges:  Well, since Joe cashed in his points...He and Trent are officially in the match, along with you and PARAGON.

Robert Zodiac:  That's another thing...why in the HELL did you give PARAGON a #1 contenders match?!

Jason Bridges:  Because you and Brian decided to *ahem* 'deal' with Razors Edge, while The Matthew Boys had contract issues and had to leave.  We had to determine new contenders for the tag belts.  Would you rather not face anyone and receive no paycheck?

Zodiac growls and slams his hands down onto Bridges' desk, causing the stack of papers to collapse and Jason sighs as he picks them up, half listening to Zodiacs grievances.

Robert Zodiac: Amber god damn Ryan and Jack fucking Michaels have done NOTHING to earn a shot at OUR tag team belts!

Jason Bridges: Actually, they have.  You remember that number one contenders tag match, don't you?  Yeah, you do.  I can see it.

Robert Zodiac:  I couldn't give two FUCKS about what they THINK they've earned, the truth is until they beat us, they're nothing.

Bridges says nothing, but his gaze shifts from Zodiac to behind him as if someone or something is there making him nervous.

Robert Zodiac:  What now, cat got your tongue?  Where's that wit now?

Jason Bridges:  Jack's right behind you.

Robert Zodiac: Ha ha, nice try.  You must be as stupid as Jack is if you think I'm gonna fall for--

Jack audibly clears his throat as Zodiac spins around, almost insulted at the notion that Jack is interrupting him as Jack just stands there in vest and tie combo while sipping at a cup of coffee. Zodiac takes a step back as the physically imposing Jack doesn’t take his eyes off of the younger champion.

Jack Michaels

Jack Michaels: We are nothing? Haven’t done anything to earn a shot at your title belts? Huh... That’s cute Robert... Real cute.

We see Zodiac sizing up the larger Jack for a second as he forces some courage to his voice.

Robert Zodiac: Yeah, I stand by what I said.

Jack Michaels: I am sure you do. I don’t suppose Amber being a former World champion or me winning Wargames means anything either right? In fact, if it weren’t for me bucko, Kyra would have the reigns and you’d probably be pumping gas or headlining some Flock of Seagulls cover band.

Robert Zodiac: ...Who?

Jack sighs.

Jack Michaels: Never mind. As much as I would like to continue this wonderful banter involving your resemblance to an 80s New Wave band, I have business with Jason here. In fact, hold this.

Jack hands his cup of coffee to Zodiac and takes a seat across from Bridges who is just shaking his head. Zodiac stands there dumbstruck as Jack motions to the paperwork on the desk.

Jack Michaels: So did you have a chance to read over the proposal for Act of Defiance I sent you?

Jason nods.

Jason Bridges: Yes I did and I have to say it is a pretty interesting idea Jack. I mean normally, we wouldn’t have the money to do something like that but if you are willing to foot the bill for the set up...

Jack Michaels: ... in exchange for 50% of both the ticket revenue and TV rights of course.

Jason Bridges: Yes, of course. I think it would be a tremendous boost for Carnage for this to happen.

Zodiac looks back and forth, looking very confused.

Robert Zodiac: What the hell are you two talking about?

Jack Michaels: Disney on Ice... We are booking it here.

Robert Zodiac: The fuck?  If you bring that shit here--

Jack and Jason both look at Zodiac incredulously before Jason shakes it off and rubs the bridge of his nose.

Jason Bridges: No Robert, Jack sent over a proposal that if Amber wins the triple threat tonight then we are going to hold the match on the strip in Las Vegas. Jack has gotten approval from the Clark County Board of Directors to shut down a portion of the strip for an hour to hold this street fight somehow and we will do it as a remote for the Pay Per View. You will have to explain to me how you managed to convince them to do this Jack.

Jack turns back to Jason and flashes a big smile.

Jack Michaels: I am Las Vegas and Las Vegas is me, Jason. I have fought with pride with them behind me and honestly... They truly love a winner back home. I am proud to be their hero and Amber is a winner in their eyes too. What better way to show how strong Vegas is by telling the masses that we are not afraid to showcase our home team on the biggest stage in the world?  Plus... Do you realize how much revenue the city can bring in by selling concessions and essentially every hotel window along Las Vegas Boulevard becoming a front row seat? Hell, they were almost drooling when I brought this up to them.

Jason and Jack share a laugh as Jack reaches back to the frozen Zodiac and takes the coffee from his hand. He takes another sip of it and grimaces a bit.

Jack Michaels: Ugh. It’s gotten cold. Could you go warm this up for me kid?

Robert Zodiac: Fine.

Robert snatches the coffee back from Jack and takes one step out of the office before freezing in his tracks and wheeling back around.

Robert Zodiac: HEY!

Robert throws the coffee cup out into the hall and douses Silent Cal with liquid. Cal gives him a death stare as Robert points at Jack.

Robert Zodiac: I am not your fucking waiter man. Fuck you and fuck your idea about fighting in Vegas. You can’t honestly be thinking about doing this Jason.

Bridges shrugs his shoulders and looks back over the paperwork in front of him.

Jason Bridges: It is a good PR move for us... I don’t see any reason why not.

Zodiac stamps his foot down and throws up his hands.

Robert Zodiac: ARE YOU STUPID? First we have to defend our belts against two lousy teams and now you are saying that you want us to go back to Jack’s god damn hometown to do it? I thought we were your guys, Jason. Why don’t you just kick us in the nuts while you are at it too?

Jack Michaels: I could arrange that.

Robert Zodiac: SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Jack chuckles a bit as Zodiac seethes aloud. Jason stands up and holds out his hands to try and calm down Zodiac.

Jason Bridges: Just settle down Robert okay? This is simply busi...

Jack Michaels: I can’t believe you are scared of it.

Jason sits back down as Zodiac glares at the sitting Jack.

Robert Zodiac: What did you just fucking say?

It’s now Jack’s turn to stand up as he stands over the smaller Zodiac.

Jack Michaels: I said I can’t believe you are scared of it boy. For a fighting champion who seems to think his team is the best damn thing since sliced bread... You sure are acting like a bit of a pussy.

Zodiac’s eyes go wide as Jack leans in close.

Jack Michaels: Just saying.

Zodiac seems absolutely flustered as Jack turns back to Jason.

Jack Michaels: If you have any other questions, give me a call.

Jack shoulders by Zodiac and takes a step into the hall before the younger champion pipes up.

Robert Zodiac: Really? You think I'm a pussy?! You just run the fuck back to Vegas because I don’t give a shit if it’s here, or there or god damn anywhere. CON will DESTROY you. We will fucking murder you. We will beat your old ass so bad that you can let your hometown drag you back to a retirement home.

Jack stops and turns back around with his eyebrow raised.

Jack Michaels: So you saying that you can beat us in my hometown?

Robert Zodiac: You are god damn right I am.

Jack Michaels: So what then... If Bryan wins then you want to street fight us in Vegas?

Robert Zodiac: ARE YOU DEAF? I said we would fight you anywhere. You are fucking right we will face you in Vegas if Crucifix wins.

Jack looks past Zodiac and at Jason who is staring blankly at his champion.

Jack Michaels: You heard him.

Jack starts to whistle and walks off as Zodiac smiles to himself.

Robert Zodiac: Guess I showed him...wait a minu--GOD DAMN IT!!

Zodiac stands there infuriated, almost pulling his hair out as Jason buries his face in his hands before we head back to the ring.

Match Two: Pearl Attlee vs. Matt Angel

Terra Skye: So I guess one of our matches will be in Las Vegas? Assuming Trent doesn't win.

Johnny Vegas: If it is, I'm going there to call it. No fucking way am I missing a chance to go to my namesake.

Ray Payne: Yo, I mights goes too, yo.

Johnny Vegas: Fuck that! I'd rather take Boy.

Boy: SPROCKETS! Bouncing in the garden is a grapefruit with a blanket!

Johnny Vegas: Or maybe not. Maybe Greg Ace is available.

"My Medicine" by The Pretty Reckless hits over the PA system. The peppy blonde from Austin steps out onto the stage with a smile, a cowboy hat perched upon her head and a denim vest on over a plain singlet. Turning her back to the crowd on the stage, Pearl gives her vest a little pop with a smile perched on her face. Tipping her hat just a bit while it was perched on the crown of her head, before turning to face the ring and making her way down the ramp with a hand extended to the crowd at either side. As a camera zoomed in, she opened her vest to reveal the "Sugar and Vice" logo on the tee that was worn over her singlet.

Pearl Attlee

Kelly Carmichael: This match is set for one fall! Introducing first, from Austin, Texas, weighing in at 130 pounds...PEARL ATTLEE!

Climbing the steel stairs that led to the ring, she threw a single finger into the air to pose on the outside of the ring, poised against the ropes. Bending into the ring, she kept hold of her hat, before handing it to a stagehand with a smile. The Belle of the Borderland climbed the nearest turnbuckle, posing and pointing to the crowd, giving a sweet wave before jumping off of the middle rope and turning in the air, all energy and all smiles as "My Medicine" begins to fade off.

Terra Skye: Pearl Attlee has been flying under the radar here in Carnage Wrestling but is still undefeated.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah and she's yet to do anything to interest me.

Terra Skye: I really don't want to know what that would be.

Ray Payne: Mebbies it is a sexis thing, yo.

Johnny Vegas: Or she could hit someone with a weapon. Since this is a wrestling show and all.

Terra Skye: Well that's better than what Ray was thinking.

Johnny Vegas: I wouldn't be opposed to some skin, too.

Terra Skye: And there it is.

"I Will Show You" By From Ashes To New blasts from the PA system, Matt Angel walks out and with his arms raised he walks down the ramp way high-fiving the fans.

Matt Angel

He jumps onto the apron and climbs the turnbuckle and also celebrates cheering to the fans.

Kelly Carmichael: Her opponent, from Venice Beach, California, weighing in at 180 pounds...MATT ANGEL!

Terra Skye: Matt Angel made his debut last show, in a close loss to Mai Goto.

Johnny Vegas: A loss is still a loss, and he got his head kicked in. Fucker lost by KO!

Ray Payne: You wud too, Mistah Jonnies, with a shots like dat.

Johnny Vegas: Bullshit, I'm a champion! THE BEST CHAMPION EVER!

Terra Skye: I was hoping your senile mind would forget that.

Johnny Vegas: NOPE!

Boy: Misspellings in the desert bring tidings of tacos!

The bell rings and both Pearl and Angel square off. Matt Angel decides to get things started by surprising Pearl with a double-leg takedown, hitting her with punches that show a sense of urgency.  He starts with blows to the face but when Pearl covers up, he smartly delivers punches to the midsection. He gets up momentarily and waits for her to stand, then delivers a sharp clubbing blow to the spine.

Terra Skye: You can tell that Angel's loss last show didn't sit well with him, because he's taking it out on Pearl.

Johnny Vegas: Why the fuck would it? No one likes to lose.

Ray Payne: But you gots a title belt when you losted.

Johnny Vegas: Because I'm the king!

Terra Skye: Yes, the king of losers.

Johnny Vegas: But still king!

Pearl Attlee stands up straight and stumbles into the corner, where Matt quickly runs in to keep the pace up to his liking. Angel uses his weight advantage to grab her out and throw her behind him with an exploder suplex. She lands halfway across the ring and knowing she's in trouble early, rolls outside of the ring to try to stop Angel's momentum, holding her back as she does so.

Ray Payne: Dat was smart from Miss Pearlies, yo. Cants get pinned if yous is outside.

Johnny Vegas: She can still get counted out, idiot.

Terra Skye: Yeah but it gives her a chance to breathe. Angel's really focused tonight.

Ray Payne: Mebbies he was embare assed by losin' yo.

Johnny Vegas: I would be. He got knocked the fuck out!

Referee Silent Cal begins his count as Angel quickly follows and rolls out of the ring, not wanting the pace to slow.



Pearl is resting on the ring pole and Angel charges in with a forearm, but she moves! Angel clubs the ring post and immediately backs off, holding his arm in pain.



Pearl takes advantage of this and hits a low dropkick to his knee, forcing him to fall face first and smack the ring apron. She then grabs the back of his head and flings him backwards into the steel barricade! She slides into the ring for a breather while Angel slumps against the guardrail.



Angel has started to push himself up, but suddenly is surprised by a suicide dive from Pearl Attlee! He's sent crashing back into the rail as Pearl thuds to the mat, restarting the referee's count.



Pearl is up first, grabbing Angel by the back of the head before tossing him back inside the ring. She shouts at the Carnage Legion around her, who applaud the quick succession of offense they just witnessed.

Terra Skye: What a sequence! Pearl has her second wind here!

Johnny Vegas: I guess she knew what she was doing after all.

Boy: Trousers. The salmon swims upstream.

Ray Payne: I don't think that's true, Mistah Boy.

Johnny Vegas: What's he saying now?

Ray Payne: He dinks dat Mistah Matt mades a mistakes by going out dere, yo.


Terra Skye: Maybe you could teach him proper English, Johnny.

Johnny Vegas: Yeah right, I've got way more important things to do.

Pearl slides into the ring and grabs Angel, twisting his neck before dropping down with a neckbreaker. She attempts the quick cover.



No, Angel kicks out with authority, but when he does, she holds onto his leg and gets up, twisting him into a half-crab! Angel seems surprised by the hold more than anything, but the pressure on his back isn't doing him any favors. He begins to scratch and crawl to try to get to the ropes, with Silent Cal right there, silently asking him if he gives up.

Terra Skye: Pearl's trying to end this early, after experiencing the threat of Matt Angel first-hand.

Johnny Vegas: If I got my ass kicked that badly, I'd just give up.

Terra Skye: Well she's a better person than you are.

Ray Payne: Dat's right, yo.

Johnny Vegas: At least I have a damn title belt. What does she have?

Terra Skye: Dignity? Good looks? Skills?

Ray Payne: Sobriety, yo?

Johnny Vegas: FUCK YOU.

Angel begins to gradually crawl to the ropes, as Pearl doesn't have enough weight to prevent him from moving. Instead she begins to twist at the knee to force a tap out. It doesn't work, as Angel makes the ropes and she's forced to break the hold. Angel grabs the ropes to pull himself up, showing a slight limp and holding his back due to the repeated blows. Pearl grabs him and drags up closer to the ring as best she can, working him down into a headlock before diving forward with a bulldog!

Terra Skye: Pearl is absolutely relentless right now!

Johnny Vegas: That Angel kid showed fire at the start but he's getting his ass handed to him now.

Ray Payne: But he's cud makes da comeback yo. Dis is earlies.

Terra Skye: That's right, Ray. Matt Angel has the skills, he just needs to focus them on putting together a string of offense.


She climbs up to the middle rope, perhaps hoping to score a crossbody, but Angel rolls forward, leaps up and catches her around the neck with his legs, forcing her back down with a second-rope hurricanrana! He holds his back from the torque of the hold, but crawls onto Pearl with the cover!



NO! She throws her shoulder up and avoids the loss.

Terra Skye: Wow! That's what I was talking about! Angel used his athletic ability and nearly scored the win.

Ray Payne: Dat was a pretty moves yo.

Johnny Vegas: Pretty or not, he's gonna need more than that to win.

Terra Skye: And Pearl's going to need to scramble if she doesn't want to lose. It's suddenly anyone's game.

Johnny Vegas: Still boring as fuck though. Where's the blood?

Matt Angel gets in the corner and signals for something, eventually charging into nail a sick kick, but Pearl moves! Angel staggers and Pearl scrambles to her feet, leaping forward for a clothesline but Angel ducks, bounces off the ropes, single-leg dropkick! Pearl staggers around and Angel hits a spinning back kick to the abdomen, before grabbing her head and flinging her at the mat. He looks up at the turnbuckle, realizing the position she's in.

Terra Skye: Oh shit, Matt Angel has a chance to finish this!

Ray Payne: He cud hit somedin from da top and it woulds be ovah.

Johnny Vegas: Well he'd better hit it now because Pearl's not going to give him a second chance.

Terra Skye: Yeah if she gets an opening she'll take it.

Matt Angel scales up to the top turnbuckle, and seeing Attlee in a prone position, he dives off for the corkscrew senton bomb he calls the Heaven Sent...BUT PEARL ATTLEE GETS THE KNEES UP! Angel's spine falls right into Pearl's kneecaps! He cries out in pain, holding his lower back, and Pearl reaches up and pulls him over in a crucifix pin!




Kelly Carmichael: Here is your winner...PEARL ATTLEE!!!

Terra Skye: Wow! Just like that, Pearl Attlee surprised him!

Ray Payne: Plus she used da back injury agains' him, yo.

Johnny Vegas: Fuck that looked painful. A knee to the back from that high up.

Terra Skye: And it was just enough to stun him for three seconds, which is all Pearl needed.

Pearl Attlee exits the ring to celebrate her win, while Angel sits up in the ring. He holds his back and has an irritated look on his face, upset that he couldn't finish the job again.

New Member Introductions / Re: Hi kids
« Last post by TagChampCruci on January 09, 2018, 10:37:03 PM »
Hey James!
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