Monday Night Warfare 27th July 2009

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Monday Night Warfare 27th July 2009

Schedule of Matches:
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Nymira D'Aubergine vs. Pablo Lopez

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Shane Anzalone vs. Keith Ian Andrews

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Danny Caballero & Matt Ford vs. Andres Teherov & Kaoru Hanayama

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BJ Jefferson vs. Mr. Red

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Andrew Black vs. VorteX

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Michael Smart & Mark Snider vs Baron Trotter & JJB

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ACW International Championship No.1 Contender Match
Chris Phenomenal vs. Jack Jefferson vs. Rattlesnake

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The Senator and Jason Freeman vs. Dan White and Jake Steele

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

After the glitz and glamour of Omega Effect, Seven Deadly Sins is traditionally a time for the ACW roster to come back to earth. To take stock, and begin anew their bulding toward their many dreams, and ambitions.

But the sins of the past and present have wrecked more dreams than most people will ever know...

The show commences... what secrets will be revealed? The alphatron lights up, and the first filmed segment begins.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Acrophobia: by KIA

*We open the scene as KIA is standing outside. Where his exact location is, is unknown, but he is outside. He is wearing his black suit with the red tie.*

[/color]

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Shane Anzalone, why, there are plenty of jokes that can come from that name, but none bigger that the joke of a wrestler that he is. Look at his accomplishments in ACW. He has none beside beat two no name jobbers. What have I done? I’ve destroyed 3 no name jobbers, two of them last week with Panther. And what is so special about this Shane Anzalone? He reminds me of a less drugged-out Jeff Hardy. I mean, I watch his matches and he does nothing that stands out. You watch my matches, one thing stands out, the way I beat my opponent until I see fit to end the match. We’ll start with my debut on Warfare last week against Trixer. You see I busted open Mr. Trixer, I had humiliated Mr. Trixer and then, after I hit The Terrordome on him, I didn’t end it. I could have, but no, I made sure that people would remember my name, remember my debut, and know who the fuck would be the future of ACW, so I hit him with a KIA.

*Keith turns around and looks out into the horizon.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews And this past Thursday, me and Panther defeated a team that has been teaming for their entire careers where as me and Panther were teaming together for the first time. And Shane, what have you done? You struggled to get offense against Markus Rogers and you struggled to get offense against ACW’s resident jobber, Gary. Go ahead, make an excuse Shane, make the excuse that your only 140 pounds soaking wet, but I won’t hear of it. You see, Shane, for the first time in my career I go into a match the bigger man, and I’m going to cherish it. Do you wanna know why Shane, it’s because after I physically and mentally dissect you, I’ll be the smallest man in ACW.

Shane, let me run down how I’m going to beat you this week. You see, you’re going to run around me, try to get me off guard, but it won’t work. Then after you take a risk that is more than the reward and fail, I’ll capitalize on that and pound your face into the mat. After I’m get bored of that, I’ll break your arm in several places. Then, just to show off my ability as a wrestler, I’m going to drag your carcass over to the corner and hit the Beyond the Terrordome and pin you.

*KIA then turns to the camera and grabs it and brings it close to him. The camera begins to shake a little bit as he talks sternly.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews But this is the part of wrestling that I enjoy. You see, not only am I going to physically beat you. No, I’m going to play with your mind. Entice your fears to think for you. After I get through playing mindgames with you, the only option is sending you to an asylum. *KIA cackles then smirks* Because, I’ve been told that you fear two things, heights, and snakes. Well Shane, say hello to your first taste of Acrophobia, KIA style.

*KIA thrust the camera downward and we see a good thousands feet nothing between KIA and the ground. KIA cackles as he brings throws the camera back to where it was to begin with.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Now you see people aren’t afraid of heights unless they are about to fall. It’s sorta like one’s success, you aren’t afraid of it until you know you can succeed no more, or in your case Shane, you’re afraid of success because you know that once you get it, you will crumble under the pressure and you will fail. But when you don’t know if you will fall or fail, you do not fear it. Well, Shane, what happens when your thoughts give you false hope?

*KIA begins to fall with the camera. He cackles as the fall begins.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Listen to me Shane, you may think you belong in the ring with picking up two wins, but until you do something to prove that you belong with the likes of Keith Ian Andrews or The Red Panther, you have not proven anything to anyone.

*We see the ground come closer and closer until KIA is 10 feet away from his death. Then a flash as KIA disappears we hear his cackle coming from somewhere. Then another flash and he appears on the ground perfectly fine.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews So, Shane do all the flips, springboards, and sentons you want, because you’re going to fuck up. You’re going to make a mistake and when you do, I will make you pay for it, and pay dearly for it you will.

*A flash and Keith is gone. A cackle is heard and another flash and we see KIA’s body on the ground. His body is motionless as blood is seeping out of the back of his head as if he just fell from a very large height. But we just say his standing, how is this possible?*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Don’t let your thoughts give you false hope.

*His body was motionless but not his mouth as he just spoke. Another flash and the blood is in the shape of KIA’s motionless body as we hear another cackle. Another flash and the blood is now writing that forms “Shane Anzalone: KIA”. We hear another loud, long cackle as the scene fades to black.* [/size][/center]

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: After the beatdown (Credit: Freeman)

After the events of Meltdown...

Jason Freeman lies on the ground, his consciousness fading in and out. His world is dark, and though he tries to move, he is unable. His head pounds, his foot throbs, and his body burns. He once more struggles to even roll over, but he ends up having to stop and lay back down on the ground. Nothing but silence. Nobody is there. He is alone on the ground.

They jumped him. He never even saw it coming. One minute he’s training, the next minute three men are on him. He couldn’t even fight back. Phillips had waited until he was incapacitated before he even struck. He had made sure that Freeman could not fight back, and the plan succeeded. From the aches and pains going through his body Freeman KNEW that their plan had succeeded. Was Phillips trying to weaken him before the PPV? Was he trying to just further get in his head? Freeman didn’t know, but---

He almost falls out of consciousness again, disrupting his train of thought, and just as it seems the world is fading, it comes back. He lies on the ground, breathing heavily for a second, until his head clears. Then the situation fully hits him and he lets out a vicious scream of rage.

Just who does the old man think he is? Freeman had made it very clear that he did not want this situation pushed over the edge, and though he had snapped on Monday, he had managed to calm himself down. He had managed to push things aside. He thought revenge wasn’t important, because the PPV match was all that mattered. He had to concentrate on winning. He was a new man who wouldn’t let rage control him. Well, now Phillips thinks he can just come on him and assault him? Attack him only after he was beaten down already no less.

Screw patience, screw putting down anger. If Phillips wants to take things this way, then Freeman will take it back to him.

Phillips has forgotten who Freeman is. He has forgotten what he is capable of. He thinks that because these fans chose to show respect and cheer Freeman, that he’s a different man. Well, Freeman is NOT going to be looked at like this again! He will not have ANYBODY forget who he is. If Phillips wants to play, it’s time to PLAY!

And Freeman, throughout his pain, manages to give a slight smirk to himself. Phillips didn’t even know what was coming to him.

As the door opens and the medics finally burst into the room to help, Freeman lies on the ground, already plotting his move.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 1: Nymira D'Aubergine vs. Pablo Lopez (Credit: Red Panther)

"Free for all" plays as Pablo Lopez makes his way out, wearing his sombrero and poncho. He slides in and takes off his sombrero and poncho, putting them in the corner.

'Crazy Bitch' hits the speakers and the fans all hit their feet, cheering for the blond that comes bouncing out from behind the curtain amidst orange and yellow flashing lights. Arms raised high above her head, Nymira jumps up and down as she waves energetically at the crowd before heading down the rampway, eagerly slapping any hands that are reached out to her. Only making her way to the ring after a production assistant gently guides her to the squared circle, she ascends the steps and gets into the ring in relatively short order, doing all sorts of either provocative or just plain silly-looking stretches as she readies herself for her match.

The two square up, Nymira has a good two inches on Lopez, but is 13 pounds lighter. Lopez smiles at the sexy and barely clothed Flare.

Nymira: Hmmm, not the first time I have seen facial hair like that on camera, although this time I have more clothes.

Nymira smiles at Lopez, who seems taken aback by the complement of sorts. The bell rings and the two lock up, with Mymira easily overpowering Lopez. Lopez falls on his back, allowing Nymira to punt Lopez in the gut and stomp his head. Nymira lifts up Lopez, drags him away from the ropes and plants him out with the Pussy Buster, sending Lopez into the corner. Nymira dives on Lopez with the Hard Ride, although Lopez doesn't seem too find it too distressing.

Maxwell: Lucky Lopez!

Nymira jumps to the top rope and comes off with a moonsault. Nymira lifts up Lopez's head and knees him straight in the nose ad then covers him, only getting a two! Nymira starts slamming elbows into the defenseless Lopez from the top before locking in a sleeper. Lopez is stuck, he can't roll out because Nymira is too strong, and he cant stand because he is dizzy. Lopez takes the high road, poking Nymira in the eye. Lopez then attempts a pele kick, landing on his back and missing Nymira. Nymira crouches down next to Lopez and cocks her head looking at the injured Mexican. She smiles and then lifts up Lopez by his hair before planting him with the Lucky Bitch and covering him for the win!

Edison: Very quick win by Flare

Winner: Nymira!

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Dirty money (Credit: Michael Smart)

The scene opens up in the passengers seats of a limousine. There are two passengers: one is Daniel Smart, wearing dark sunglasses, a dark grey suit and a yellow tie. The other is Michael Smart, wearing his street clothes, that is a black t-shirt and blue jeans. Michael has a bag that has his ring attire in it. Michael's looking down at the floor.

Daniel Smart: So, you'll have a match tonight. Excited?

Michael Smart: I haven't had a match in a while, but tonight's nothing special.

Daniel Smart: What do you mean?

Michael Smart: Well, I'm not really a tag team wrestler. I also don't know my partner all that well. My opponents, though... they're no pushovers.

Daniel Smart: I'm sure you'll do your best.

Michael Smart: Yeah...

Michael continues staring at the floor.

Daniel Smart: Then what's the problem?

Michael Smart: Problem? It's... I just feel like I'm going through the motions, you know?

Daniel Smart: Not really.

Michael Smart: I just don't feel like I've done anything meaningful while in ACW.

Daniel Smart: You're undefeated in ACW.

Michael Smart: Anyone can win a few matches in a row, I've only been here two months.

Daniel Smart: You joined the Untouchables.

Michael Smart: That's a way to achieve something, not an achievement itself.

Daniel Smart: That's not a nice thing to say about a stable you're in.

Michael Smart: All I'm saying is that I'd like to get things done in the ring, not just out of it. A classic five star match, a heated rivalry everyone will remember...

Daniel Smart: A flashy entrance with a cool outfit and tons of entourage and confetti?

Michael Smart: Huh? No, that would blow off too much of my salary.

Daniel Smart: Dude, we're rich! We can afford anything!

Michael Smart: No, you are rich. I don't want anything to do with the money you supposedly won from slots.

Daniel Smart: Supposedly? I thought we had this conversation already! I won my money legitimately!

Michael Smart: I don't want to know where you got it from, I just don't want anything to do with it.

Daniel Smart: Well, I'll give it to you anyway!

Michael Smart: You can't do that!

Daniel Smart: Yes I can, I'll just transfer a few grands to your bank account.

Michael Smart: I'll just send them back to you.

Daniel Smart: It'd be too late, your money would already be tainted.

Michael Smart: Huh?

Daniel Smart: My money would've touched your money so they would have money-cooties from each other.

Michael Smart: It doesn't work that way!

The limousine stops, having reached its destination. Michael opens the door to step outside.

Daniel Smart: Good luck with your match, I have an arrangement to take care of.

Michael Smart: Like always.

Michael steps out of the limousine and closes the door as the scene fades.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Lonesome, Crowded West
Crowne Plaza Hotel
An ACW-booked room.
July 25th 2009

The West.

It was where everyone planned to go someday. It is where you go when the land gives out and the old field pines encroach. It is where you go when you get the letter saying: “Flee, all else is discovered.” It is where you go when you look down at the blade in your hand and see the blood on it. It is where you go when you are told that you are a bubble on the tide of empire. It is where you go when you hear that there’s gold in them there hills. It is where you go to spend your old age.

It is where you go, to escape Japan, where the sun rose on a potential murder sentence.

Or…it is where you just go.

“ACW staff…open the door.”

The sentence was accompanied by a concerned little rapping on the hotel room door, which was crème colored. In fact every object in the room was some shade of caramel or butterscotch, to evoke a homey kind of atmosphere. The floor was the darkest shade of brown, followed by the chairs, followed by the walls, followed by the ceiling, so that the entire room appeared to be an appendage growing from the sugary muck that was the ground.

It was like candy. Beige candy, and beige quicksand, and death from a thousand little brown bites of cholesterol, and a thousand little sips of dark brown beer. A bear trap, stitched together from several shades of log cabin. One of the other wrestlers on the tour had said the hotel room was a prison. That you had to go out at night, or risk melting into the beige. He was right.

“Excuse me…ACW Staff. Is anyone in there”

“Yeah. The door is open.”

The young roadie stepped into the beige interior, a man of average height with a dirty blonde moustache and a closely cropped haircut that appeared square because of the shape of his head. He had on a rusty brown polo shirt with a name patch sewn just above the left pectoral. An average man for an average place, with the honesty of a Labrador retriever.

“This is room 544, right? Kaoru Hanayama? They have your first booking. You’re in a tag team match with Andres Terehov against Matt Ford and Danny Caballe--”

The eager, uneven pace of word was suddenly stemmed, as though someone had shut a door and muffled the sound all at once.

“Yeah, I know.”

He looked somewhat hurt at not being able to finish his rehearsed speech. The Labrador eyes gave it away, skulking gently like a dog denied his favorite couch…almost childlike disappointment. If he had a tail just then, it would have been between his legs.

“Hey…do you know any bars around here?

“Huh? Oh…erm…well…yeah sure. I think a couple of the guys on the roster went down to Tchotchkie’s. It’s about three blocks over o—“

“Forget it. I’ll find one on my own.”

Brushing past the man’s rough, cheaply stitched polo shirt. Past the hallway. Past the elevator. Past the gilded lobby where busboys and secretaries stood like old friends ready to take you upstairs and have a chat.

And out onto the street. The street where things were familiar and concrete. Expensive hotels felt too much like plush office buildings, where one had to be polite to every co-worker, and tolerate their stories about golf and vacations. A porcelain doll put on the counter just to smile and wave at the passer-byes.
In the street, no one had to tolerate anything provided if they had enough force.

It took a few blocks before things became familiar. Without directions or friends, you still knew. Eventually, the smell of wet concrete and stagnant sewage water gave way to frying rice, The honking of automobiles, like hostile geese migrating in an automated frenzy, bowed out to street vendors shouting in accented English.

Some blocks were dominated by cheesy little ethnic restaurants that boasted ethnic Japanese cuisine, and may or may not have actually had it. Others boasted various trinket shops that sold good luck charms, Buddha statues, incense sticks, and anything else that would have been found a novelty by someone out of town or out of touch. Seeing your culture reduced to street corner shops is always somewhat insulting. Some would look at it and declare the triumph of a hard working and industrious people in a foreign land. Those who knew better would call it mockery.

It was angering in a way. To be from a foreign land, and have to suckle on the tits of migrants who were clearly outsiders themselves. To arrive, and to not be immediately accepted into the mainstream culture. Little Tokyo was a gimmick, a survival technique for those who could not otherwise survive. Any Japanese native bore a special, quiet enmity for “Gaijin” or immigrants, in their home country. To arrive somewhere else and therefore become a gaijin yourself…to be forced to huddle with the same kind of half breeds you had professed hatred for only a short time ago…

“Home, sweet home.”

But this was only a kabuki mask, grinning silently and dancing for the tourists. Two more blocks and the souvenir shops gave way to a dingy side door with fizzling neon and some Japanese characters over it. The door swung open with a strong creek, as daylight flooded into the purposely dimmed enclosure.

Inside was the familiar spell of smoke and sweat that usually accompanied a gambling den. Even in the poor light, you could see men hunched intently over tables, focused on various games of Shogi and dominoes. Somewhere in the far corner, a man let out a shriek of victory, which was followed by the pleasant clattering of chips that no doubt came his way. All around, tray-ridden girls were all wearing silk kimonos in various embroidered patterns. Peach blossoms, cranes, the ocean…all were represented in different colors on the gowns.
Most all of them had a naïve, pretty expression, which was probably well practiced by this time.

“Konnichiwa, may I seat you at the bar?”

“Dozo. That’s fine.”

The darkened bar stool creaked beneath enormous weight, as a plate of hot sake was expertly slid down the bar into proper position. It tasted like a bitter, lukewarm tea, drying the throat slightly as it went down.

Behind the bar, a Japanese effigy of Buddha looked across at the pot of sake with an indecisively happy face.

“Home, sweet home.”

-To Be Continued -

OOC: Segment credit goes to Kaoru.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: On The Map?
Credit: Mr. Red and Jake Cheng

The camera fades in to see Mr. Red standing in the ring holding a microphone. He has a determined look on his face as he looks up the ramp and begins to speak.

Red: Jake!!! Jonny!!! Get your asses down here. I demand to know what the hell your problem is. I demand to know why you keep snubbing me out of the stable I put on the map. I'm getting real tired of your shit. First I get a parking ticket because you guys fucked with my car.

He holds up the receipt for his ticket and rips it up in the ring.

Red: I want to know what the hell is going on here. I proved that I have what it takes to hang with the champion. Maybe it's because I have had gold around my waist lately and you are jealous?

He smirks and waves his hand around his waist.

Red: I'm getting really tired of you guys always ducking me and avoiding me. I put the Untouchables on the map before and I can do it again. I demand your asses down here so I can find out why I can't get in.

?: Woah woah woah, on the map?

The crowd looks up to see Jake Cheng's face on the Alphatron, cheering at the sound of his voice.

Red:Yeah Cheng, you know goddamn well that I...

Jake Cheng: It's not important. The past is not important. The present is important. The future is important. And in terms of the Untouchables, you are involved in neither. I don't know what it is, but there is something different about you. Something changed you. I'm sorry-

Red:[ i]Sorry?[/i] You are sorry?! You will be fucking sorry-

Jake Cheng: Whine about it a little more.

Red: Alright listen, here is what we will do. Seven Deadly Sins. Jake Cheng vs. Mr, Red. Simple as that. You win, I'll get off your ass. I win, you let me into the Untouchables. Deal?

Jake Cheng:.....deal.

Red: Fine. I will see your crazy ass at Seven Deadly Sins.

The scene fades out with Red storming out of the ring. It seems sthat he forgot to ask why but he seems to have other things on his mind.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 2: Shane Anzalone vs. Keith Ian Andrews (Credit: Shane Anzalone)

“Raining Blood” by Slayer blasts over the P.A. system and the fans begin to cheer. Shane Anzalone appears from behind the curtain wearing his normal attire a pair of black jeans with a white belt holding them up and a pair of white, black, and red world industries. Shane riles up the fans by taunting and pointing to them as he walks back and forth across the stage. He stands at the top of the ramp and raises his hands pointing his index fingers up. At that moment his pyro goes off, two streams of fireworks shoot up on either side of him and he keeps walking. Shane high fives all of the fans on either side of the ramp and makes his way to the foot of the ramp. As he gets there he turns towards the steel steps and walks towards them. He climbs up the steps and climbs up the back of the turnbuckle and points up again with both hands. He jumps over the turnbuckle landing in the ring and goes to the center of the ring and points to the camera saying something different each time. Shane then does a cut throat taunt, when he finishes he takes both hands and punches down. Shane goes to a turnbuckle opposite from the entrance ramp and sits up on it. Waiting for his opponent to arrive.

“Born Like This” – 3 Days Grace plays over the P.A. system and the fans begin to cheer and boo none of them know what to think of The Psychotic Flyer. A few seconds later Keith Ian Andrews appears from behind the curtain wearing his usual attire but something is different this time. Keith has an Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake around his neck and the camera turns to Shane. Shane sees the snake around his neck and Shane gets down from the turnbuckle with a look of fear in his eyes. Keith gets closer to the ring with a smile on his face. He looks at Shane and knows that he has gotten the early win. But Shane doesn’t give up that easy. Shane starts to back up as Keith enters the ring with the snake and walks towards him. Shane drops and rolls out of the ring and watches as Keith stands there laughing. Keith takes the snake and puts it on the side of the ring where there is a trainer to watch it. Keith stands in the corner waiting for Shane to come in the ring.

Shane and Keith meet in the middle of the ring and exchange some looks Shane gives Keith the meanest look you’ve ever seen and KIA just laughs. He starts to make fun of Shane for being afraid of snakes and Shane is tired of it Shane takes his hand and slaps Keith upside the face and the bell rings Keith looks back at Shane and tries to punch him in the face but Shane ducks it. Shane kicks Keith in the stomach and plants him in the ground with a quick DDT. Shane gets up and waits for Keith to get up which takes seconds. Keith walks towards Shane and Shane goes to hit Keith with another kick. Keith grabs his foot and drops it. Keith grabs his arm and throws him at the ropes in an Irish whip and as Shane comes back Keith jumps over Shane and Shane comes back and Keith hits Shane with a phenomenal looking dropkick. As Shane is on the floor Keith locks in an armbar and Shane is in pain. The arm that KIA is targeting is the exact arm that Shane’s pectoral was torn on. Shane, close to the ropes, grabs the bottom rope and the count out begins.

1
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2
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3
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4
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.

Keith lets go at 4 inflicting damage on Shane and that is now Keith’s target. Keith gets up and picks Shane up and throws him into the corner. Keith runs at Shane going for a corner spin wheel kick but Shane gets out of the way and as Keith turns around he hits him with a vicious spear. Shane gets up and runs towards the top rope and does a back flip of the top rope onto KIA hitting a picture perfect Shooting Star Press. Shane hooks the leg and goes for the pin.

1
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.
2
.

Keith kicks out and Shane gets up. Shane picks Keith up and throws him at the ropes. Shane goes for a dropkick but Keith holds onto the roes sending Shane crashing to the ground. Keith approaches Shane and stomps his arm trying to weaken it to possibly hit a K.I.A. Keith stops his assault and then waits for Shane to get up. As Shane gets up Keith throws him at the turnbuckle and tries again for the spinning wheel kick and this time is successful. Keith gets up on the top rope and waits for Shane to get up. As Shane gets up Keith hits a head scissors takedown from the top rope and Shane somehow gets back up to his feet quickly. Keith gets up and runs at Shane, shane out of desperation jumps up high and hits a standing hurricanrana into a pinfall.

1
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2
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Keith kicks out and Shane lays on the floor motionless. Keith gets up and picks Shane up. He throws Shane at a corner and Shane climbs up the turnbuckle and does a rebounded corkscrew senton onto KIA as he is standing which Shane calls Sussurro Nel Vento. Shane gets up and gets ready for the finish. Keith gets up and Shane kicks Keith in the stomach and sets up for the SHT. Keith gets out and hits Shane with a clothesline. As Shane is on the ground Keith stands in front of him and executes a standing moonsault onto Shane and he gets up. Keith waits for Shane to get up and Shane stumbles to his feet with the help of the ropes. As KIA charges at Shane he climbs on Shane’s back and hits a picture perfect K.I.A. Keith hooks Shane’s leg and goes for the pin.

1
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2
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3!

WINNER: Keith Ian Andrews via pinfall

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

"Bad Medicine"

[/font]
Rep[/center]

Thunder strikes, hard rain falls on a long, black road in the dark of the night. As thunder strikes again, we get a close shot of a red car. The driver is JJB, and he doesn't look happy to be making this very wet, over the night trip. Low groaning comes from the backseat. Whoever it is, they're laying down, and we can't see them.

JJB: It's alright, boss. We're almost there. Just hold yourself together for a few more minutes.

Thunder strikes a third time, and the car pulls up to a large building. It drives up in to the parking lot and parks in an employee spot. From afar, we see JJB hop out, close the door, and run around to the back door. He opens it and drags out an almost lifeless body and holds him up, nearly carrying him as they walk towards the door. The rain pours down on them, hard.

Cut to inside the building, a man dressed in a leather jacket and jeans moves paperwork around on a desk. A loud knock at his door, and he has his young female assistant answer it. Cut to JJB holding Rep up, both of them wet from the rain. The unidentified man goes over and helps JJB bring Rep inside. They sit him down, and he plops in to the chair, rubbing his arm.

: How long has he been like this?

JJB: Since last night.

: Why didn't you call?

JJB: The phones weren't working because of the storm.

The man turns to his assistant.

: Go get his medication.

The woman quickly goes out to find Rep's pills. JJB looks around what we can assume is a doctor's office. A picture of this Doctor and former ACW wrestler Thunderkiss sits on his desk.

JJB: You knew Thunderkiss?

: Knew him? The guy was my top client. Since he's left ACW, that would make Rep my top client now, wouldn't it?

The woman comes in holding an entire tray of pill bottles. She goes over to Rep and hooks him up to a machine.

JJB: We've been having to visit you a lot lately. It's getting ridiculous. I was talking to Rep a few days ago when he was sober, which is rare, and he was thinking of asking you to become his on-the-road doctor. What would you say to that?

: Oh, God, I don't know. I'd be putting myself out of a lot of work and money.

JJB: He'll match whatever price you would be losing. When he needs the stuff, he needs it right at that moment.

: Well, if the money is there then why not? It should be fun being on the road.

JJB: Welcome to the crew, Doc. He may not be a nice guy, but he will always pay you well.

Ease in to Rep, who is knocked out and breathing heavily. As his eyes fill the screen, they open. Fade to black.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Say Hello
by Tazar Yoot

Somewhere backstage the rumbling notes of “Ace of Spades” by Motörhead slammed through a doorway. It was partially open, practically begging to be nudged by a cameraman. And of course that happens. Inside sits a new face to ACW. “Blackjack” Dan Caballero has his back to the camera, showing off the nice cut of his charcoal black suit. To one side sits a drink, scotch on the rocks. Biting and smooth, he picks it up and empties the glass of liquid. He spins the ice around and the camera twists around his frame until he's smiling deep into it. Smiling? No no, it's more of a smirk sitting just one side of sly. He spreads his arms out wide, offering the world into his heart.

Bold and silver ladies and gentlemen, that's what I am. But you can call me Dan Caballero. “Blackjack” Dan Caballero. I guess this is where you all welcome me to your fine company, with all the hoo-har a pretty face like mine deserves. See, this is my first experience in a wrestling company, and well I'd like to make it a memorable start. And it seems like the powers that be want the same thing.

Given me a little tag match it seems, little and quaint in theory. Myself and Matt Ford, my my, what a name to team with - he's got quite the reputation in the wrestling world – up against Andres Teherov and Kaoru Hanayama. Should be good, should be divine. Worthy of my lovely beginnings. The world will be watching and so will the the locker room. Oh, you will be wont you, my little batch of peers? Like dogs when their master has got a steak, nice and juicy, and those beady eyes just follow it. Gotta size it all up. They start asking if they're going to get a taste, and when they do, how will it be?

That's what this is. The boss is the butcher and we're the slab of beef stuck in the box. You're all just wondering what cut we'll be. Me, baby I'm porterhouse.

But I say that to all the girls...

He stands and walks off camera, its operator slow to follow. When it catches up a few seconds later, Blackjack is throwing a gym bag to the ground with one hand and holding a bottle to his side with the other. More scotch. Back in his seat he refills his glass. He goes to re-cap the bottle but gives it one last look, the look one gives when considering a quick swig. Deciding against it, he places the bottle to one side.

Taking a small sip, he looks into the camera and smiles while shrugging his shoulders.

I feel like this is a first date and we're stuck staring over the candelabra, trying to avoid eye package. Whenever I think you're looking away I steal a glance at your top, hoping that one last top button has magically come undone. You notice because I stay there a little too long but you don't mind. You give me that cheeky little glance and I return the smile. Things are going swimmingly so far but we can't hit the substance, these knowing glances are just so dull. We want the flavour, don't we? And to do that we have to give a little bit of ourselves up. Otherwise it's like fucking a stranger, and all the best Jackson Pollock's have a backstory.

So that's why I've set up a little story for you all. I imagine you'll all be telling me about yourselves so it's only fair. I'll be telling it later, got a match to get ready for and all. Can't be disappointing and I know Teherov and Hana will be bringing the fire. They've both got pretty little pasts to hold up while I'm stuck here shooting syllables built on Hope's dirt.

I bet your thinking that that's quite the unstable patch of land to build a house on. I should probably let you in on a little secret. I ain't looking to build a house. No Caballero has lived in a house in over four generations. No, we build skyscrapers and holiday in mansions. All that starts after I nail a three count, after I turn Hope into Fate with the concrete of my opponent's defeat. And that's some really solid stuff.

Gotta say that I've missed that look... That one someone gives that moment they realise the writing is on the wall and it's written in blood, their blood, and it's someone else's handwriting. They see my looped “l” and the way I dot my eyes and they realise that for the next few moments, the one's that matter, I'm in control of their lives. They had things going so well, they were going to marry that hot blonde and have a nice little family, but oops, something goes wrong and know I'm drilling that bitch to the headboard and making her dreams come to life in technicolor. I'm in control and I rule those reigns with an iron hand. I live all their dreams in mere seconds and they just get to watch as they fall backwards to hit the road. Their heads split and the blood tells the tale of my rule.

All hail King Blackjack, it reads until the council hoses it away in the morning.

Yeah, I've been in my fair share of fights. I know my way around a brawl. This ain't going to be any different. Just a different stage and with a few more people watching. Nothing else is new. Still swinging, and still swinging by my design. I could always buy my way out of any problems but I still chose to kick and swear.

You know why that is, ladies and gentlemen?

Easy. I want to be here. I like the thrill. Wars are fun if you walk into them with a smile.

Danny raises his eyebrows and points to every viewer around the world.

This is where you start thinking “Yeah, I've heard all this before. The cliché always sounds the same, and they all end the same way as well”. The boorish titan falls and the people yawn.

But me, well, I guess you'll just have to watch and see how I turn the pages. I'm no monster who gets his rocks off at the sight of people weeping and I'm no wrestling freak who bleeds the sport. Nah, I'm just a guy who likes to push himself and the buttons around him to see what he can fuck up.

I like the game we're all playing. I like to throw a few punches and see who's still standing.

Funnily enough, that person has always been me.

I like seeing how long I can stay alive.

Blackjack stands once more and moves to place his glass on a nearby table. His back to the camera, he cocks his head to one side, offering the world his profile view.

What do you think, Terehov? Yama? Think you've got the muscle and mountain to change the ways of fate? Or is this going to be another example of Blackjack coming up roses?

Spinning around he lifts his head to look down his nose.

Gotta say, I'm predicting the former. These feet stay stable and I've got one hell of a skyscraper to build. I hope you plan on helping because I can't wait to lay the foundation with your dreams.

Blackjack lowers his head down slightly and looks deep into the camera. The smirk is back but the welcoming eyes are gone. In their place? Malevolence.

War.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Lonesome, Crowded West – Part II
Sunday, July 26th
Ginko Lily Bar
1:00 AM

She swayed on stage, like a paper crane caught in the wind. By now, the lights in the bar had been dimmed inside of their hollow rice-paper enclosures, like fattened fireflies lazily hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, but each movement of her hips seemed to part the volume of the atmosphere as gently as running a finger through the water. The bottle of hot sake that had been slid across the bar was now joined by several more, all empty. Somewhere in the dark, people occasionally broke the silence with cat-calls.

“Yeah, shake it baby!”

“Look at that ass! I like that, whooo!”

And she was indeed swimming in the hot Japanese rice liquor that somehow always made it up from the stomach and into the eyes, making the vision appear watery and uncertain. It gave accent to each of her dips, as though she were dancing on a bobbing ship whose captain was trying to steer in such a way as to make the woman all the sexier. Trapped on a boat forcing her to shake, and grind. Maybe like one of those giant, romantic slave ships that used to crawl across the Atlantic. And yes, the Pacific too.

What was she dancing to? No way to be sure, because there were no lyrics to be heard. Just a sultry bass line holding up the occasional synthetic howl. You could always tell the synthesizer because it produced a strange kind of whine that could come from no real instruments, even if it was programmed to imitate them.

The bartender, not an unattractive woman herself, floated back into the field of vision.

“Hey there…you about ready for one more?”

It was an interesting question. It was that perfect place of inebriation…the place where one was not so drunk, but not so sober and could still enjoy the night without embarrassing himself in a bathroom. But that kind of drunkenness always felt fleeting…like it would disappear and sink back into sobriety at any moment. So you drank a little bit more, and a little bit more, just to keep up the buzz. Before you knew it you were nauseous and looking for your shoes.

“I think I’m okay for right now.”

“Aww…are you sure? Big guy like you should be able to drink quite a bit…not that you haven’t. But come on, you’re tough. I think you’ve got one or two more in you!”

“Maybe in a minute or two.”

“Heh…alright, cutie. Suit yourself.”

She must have been one of those bartenders that got paid on commission, because she had been trying to sell drinks like they were bibles all night. Or maybe she had just gotten used to getting good tips, and thought she was dealing with a fish.

On stage, the song’s bass beat was rhythmically slowing down, a dying car on auto-tune. Invisible outlines stood up to rowdily applaud for the girl, who was making her way off stage. Even from a distance, her calves were forcefully defined against the tall heel on her black stiletto shoes. Her kimono, rapidly disappearing offstage, was a silvery white trim with an inky black tree splashed against it. As she walked away into the dimness of the bar, the tree looked like it had become assimilated by the gloom and tobacco smoke, and was slowly eating the white part of kimono alive. Like the beautiful silver pallor was something illusory, alive for those few moments and disappearing back into the shade now that she had finished singing.

It was a painful thing to watch. And it must have been noticeably painful, because from behind , the cute bartender decided to wryly chime in.

“Ohh, you like her, huh?”

The bartender was all teeth now, a liquor-pouring Cheshire cat.

“She dances well.”

Her smile grew wider, her face trying to clothespin it to her ears.

“That’s not what I asked you. I know she dances well. She’s a friend of mine, and dances here almost every weekend. It’s okay if you like her, big boy. Almost everybody here does. If you want, I could call her over here and introduce the two of you. You might even be able to buy her a drink.”

So that’s what it was…another ploy to buy a drink. Very creative. In fact, that kind of creativity deserved a reward.

“You want commission?”

“Huh?”

“That’s how you get paid…commission, right?”

The cute bartender blushed a bit, before her smile returned, slightly more reserved as before. She held both hands behind her back for girlish effect.

“Well…yeah. I keep a little tab of all the drinks I sell, minus tips. Each barista leaves a record for the manager as she clocks out, which is checked against the amount of money in the register. Based on the number of drinks sold, I may or may not get a little bonus. What’s it to you?”

She watched in mock-innocent disbelief as a porky hand stretched forward, holding some crumpled dollars.

“Here. I’ll buy one more drink to help you out, since that’s what you want. On the condition that you stop bugging me about it. Understand?”

She feigned modesty for a second, before greedily snatching the money and sliding it under the bar, safely out of view and going off to fetch another bottle off the endless liquor rack.

A few moments later, she returned and placed the last hot sake onto the bar, with a kind of finality. As though the fact that this was the last drink had been a sort of victory on her part.

“Thanks”

And that was all there was to it. All there was to the sake, and the cute bartender, and the swaying dancer on stage, and little Japanese districts that were in cities all over the West.
The West. Which was pure, and clean, and a new start. And if you fly and drive the thousands of miles it takes you to get there, you may still end up in bar.

The West…which was just the same as anywhere else.

-FADE-

OOC: Segment credit once again goes to Kaoru.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Scaring The Interviewer - By KIA with apperances from The Red Panther and Chris Phenomenal

*We come back from commercial backstage and we see Kevin Anderson backstage, waiting for someone.*

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Welcome, I’m Kevin Anderson and in a few short moments I will be joined by the former Entertainment Champion, Chris Phenomenal. But first-

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews But first you’re going to interview the Terror of Tampa.

*Just then, KIA walked over to Anderson, with the snake around his neck. Anderson takes a few steps back.*

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Get that snake away from me!

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Oh relax, he’s harmless, at least to me. You see, this is my favorite pet. Because like myself, he can smell fear, he can sense fear on someone. So, if you don’t want to be bitten by the most venomous snake in North America, I advise you to calm the fuck down. Now, ask me some damn questions.

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson But, ah, I’m not prepared to interview you. I’m prepared to interview Chris Phenomenal.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Fuck Phenomenal. He lost his title to Andrew Black. Ok, now you interview me or give me the damn mic.

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Ah…..okay……well….what are your thoughts on your victory?

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Good start. Now, my baby here, see she kinda of helped me tonight. I got in the mind of Shane and beat him.

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Keith-

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Whoa, it’s Mr. Andrews to you, Anderson.

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Mr. Andrews, with a snake at ringside, you could beat anyone.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews No, the people I beat before I get in the ring, I beat them because they are weak. They have no control over their fears. I brought that snake down to ringside to see how tough Mr. Anzalone is, and he proved to me he is a coward when his fears trigger themselves. Now, Anderson, what did you think of my match?

The.Internet Kevin.Anderson Ah, Mr. Andrews, I’m not a wrestling fan.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews What the hell are you doing in a damn wrestling company? Get the hell away from me.

*Anderson just stands there. KIA looks at the ground and takes his snake off his shoulders and points him at Anderson, whose eyes grow large before he runs away.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Punk…. Now, I’m going to make this short and sweet. I’m in ACW for one reason, and that is to inflict as much pain and to torture people as much as I possibly can. Slowly but surely, that will take me places where I’ve been before, but for now, I’m content inflicting as much pain as possible.

*Just the The Red Panther comes up to KIA. He looks at the snake around KIA’s neck. He cautiously walks to KIA.*

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Ah, don’t worry, I got him, he won’t do much to you if you don’t fear him.

The.Red.Panther Like the way you disposed of that punk ass interviewer.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Thanks.

The.Red.Panther I also liked the way that you beat Shane, very nice.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews Well, when you come up to me before my match and say, “Leave a piece of Shane for me.”, you kinda restrict me to what I wanted to do.

The.Red.Panther Well, I’m sorry for doing that, but hey look, thanks.

The.Pyschotic.Flyer Keith.Ian.Andrews You owe me.

*They shake hands and go their separate ways. After a few moments, Chris Phenomenal shows up, ready for that interview.*

Chris.Phenomenal Where the fuck is Anderson? God damn it, at least Deep had the decency to show up.

*CP stands there, shaking his head as we fade to black.*

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Working out with the Red Panther (Credit: Panther)

The Red Panther is in a gym on ACW island. It isn't very well equipped, just a ring, some punching bags, weights and a bike. There are only five people in the gym, two men boxing in the ring, a monster of a man on the weights, The Red Panther working a blue punch bag in the corner, and Kevin "The Internet" Anderson (camera guys sold there soul too Ginger when they signed the contract). Kevin walks across the gym too Panther, who is wearing his wrestling stuff plus an iPod. Anderson stands behind Panther, waiting for him to finish, while Panther raps as he punches.

Panther: Yes, yes, yes guess who's on third?
Lupe still like Lupin the Third
Hear life here till I'm beer on the curb
Peach fuzz buzz but beard on the verge

Tired of listening to panthers sub-par rapping Anderson taps Panther on the back. Panther pauses his iPod and turns.

Panther: Oh, it's you. Here.

Panther give Anderson a five dollar note.

Panther: Now go away.

Anderson: Sorry, I have to interview you, order of Gingerdude.

Panther sighs and turns back to boxing.

Panther: Get talking before I get tired of this.

Anderson: OK, erm, what do you plan to do tonight, with no match?

Panther: Well, at a guess, maybe work out, you know, like I am at the moment. In case you didn't notice. And after this, I may make an appearance on the show, depending on how I feel.

Anderson: And how do you feel about your last match where you and Keith Ian Andrews beat the lost boys, was that match tough?

Panther: A definite no, me and Keith are both above average, The Lost Boys shouldn't have jobs. It is that simple, I barely broke a sweat. Hey, management, next time you book me you should give me a challenge, not a warm up for a gym session. The two of them have less team work then, well I can't even think of something to compare them too, they were just that bad! Me and Keith never teamed with each other before then, and we were a well oiled machine. They did live up to there name, they were lost and didn't fight like men, they were children, no thought was put into that match.

Anderson: Some critics thought you would struggle in pro wrestling at this level, with no experience. How do you respond?

Panther: No experience? Belt after belt in mixed martial arts, kick boxing, boxing and mu thai, plenty of time in the gym and wrestling lessons from the best coaches money can buy is more than enough experience! Most of this roster have no idea what a real kick is.

Panther proceeds to lay a roundhouse into the bag sending it swinging, before he goes back to some boxing combos.

Panther: I would like to see the other members of the roster do that!

Anderson: Many think you may challenge Shane Anzalone to a match at Seven Deadly Sins, will you?

Panther: Do you people have no patience? This is the last show before Seven Deadly Sins, have the patience to watch the show, maybe try and enjoy it, although I personally would watch my match from last Thursday at ACWOndemand.com, it is a classic. Still, just wait and see instead of asking questions with an obvious answer.

As Panther is saying this, the large man who was working the weights previously has come over.

Large man: Look, you have been here for a long time, let everybody else use this equipment.

Panther: Ten mins.

Large man: You said that half an hour ago, get off it.

The massive man is at least 6'11 and 300 pounds, as an estimate. He wears black joggers and a red ripped tee-shirt, covered in sweat.

Panther: No, my needs are more important than yours.

The large man grows tired and pushes Panther away into a wall and starts punching the bag.

Panther: Big mistake.

Panther backs up and then comes back with a Somoa Spin Kick, laying the big man down.

Panther: The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Remember that, this is the kind of thing you would expect from me, the future of ACW.

Panther leaves, as Anderson stands over the man in shock.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: The Plan of Attack (Credit: The Untouchables)

The scene opens up, and there's a huge pop, as we are introduced to The Untouchables. Jake Cheng, Jonny Spade, Michael Smart and Andrew Black are gathered around Dan White, who is stood with his hands behind his back. He's looking down on the ground, and appears particularly peeved off, as Black breaks the silence.

Andrew Black: So...what are we going to do about Jake Steele, then?

Dan looks up, raising his eyebrows.

Dan White: That's a very interesting question, Mr. Black. A very interesting question indeed.

But Dan doesn't follow his response with an answer, and instead, the group are left looking at each other, rather confused.

Jonny Spade: Well...don't you want to do something? I mean if he IS in the arena tonight, surely you want to find him and get some answers, don't you? I mean after all, you DID resort to trecking all the way to Brooklyn to find him.

Michael Smart: Yeah, before you got sidetracked and ended up getting ridiculously drunk with your former tag team partner...

Dan looks from side to side, in a pseudo “it wasn't my fault” manner, as Cheng offers his two cents.

Jake Cheng: Look, Dan. If you want, we'll get people all over the building. We have the people. The Royles at the front door, two of us at the back. It'll be a sinch.

Dan looks up, and places his hands on his hips.

Dan White: You know what? Jake Steele has been nothing short of an absolute arsehole to me over the past few months. Ever since that scumbag found out that we were brothers, he's done nothing to suggest that he's cool with it. But you know the worst thing about it? He's been trying to fuck me over in absolutely every way possible. Like I said the other day, he's screwed me not only out of the Entertainment Title -

He looks at Black.

Dan White: No offense, Andrew.

Andrew Black: None taken.

He continues to address the rest of the group.

Dan White: But anyways, I have had enough. I want to have a complete lock down of the arena. You guys got it? I want a full search of the bloody place.

Michael Smart: You got it! How about Black and I go towards the parking lot?

Dan White: That's good. And Jake, you can search the basement. Jonny and I will sit here, eat pizza, and play video games.

Jonny Spade: Sounds good to me.

Jake Cheng: Same he-HEY! Hang on! That doesn't sound fair at all!

Dan White: Well someone has got to look after the locker room. And I need a dude here as well in case Steele does a one-up on me and ambushes here with more than just him.

Jonny Spade: Yeah, Jake! It's all tactical.

Jake Cheng: Whatever.

Jake grumbles and groans to himself, exiting the Untouchables locker room. Smart and Black follow him shortly, as Dan utters one final thing.

Dan White: Jake Steele is gonna wish that he never came back.

Fade out.