Thursday Night Meltdown 13th April 2006

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Thursday Night Meltdown 13th April 2006

ACW Caribbean Tour
Kingston, Jamaica
Kingston Independence Park

Schedule of Matches:
-----------------------------

Holocaust vs. Tornado

-----------------------------

Torak vs. Jack of Heartz

-----------------------------

ACW Entertainment Title Match
Rawt vs. Red's Only Fan

-----------------------------

RDK vs. Predator w/ BK

-----------------------------

Great Kuda vs. Vladimir Rasputin

-----------------------------

Fallen Heroes Over The Top Match
Santiago vs. Rattlesnake vs. Senator

-----------------------------

Latino vs. BK London w/ Predator

-----------------------------

Yoko & Sarin vs. Dan & Jonny

-----------------------------

OOC Note: As some of you know, I’ve not been in the best of health this week, and I’m currently undergoing a hefty course of antibiotics and painkillers which has made concentrating for any period of time difficult. I’ve therefore kept my matches on the short side in order to complete the show on schedule; if anyone notices any serious errors or omissions with this script, please let me know and I will rectify them as my normally sieve-like brain has been even more holey this week…
Many thanks for your patience and understanding.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Opening Segment: A Macho Review (Credit: RDK)

The show opens to fireworks and the entire arena screams as the sun begins to go down… and as we’re in Kingston Independence Park, Jamaica, that’s a seriously big scream. The outdoor arena is packed to bursting, with everyone from dedicated ACW followers to curious locals represented in the crowd. This is going to be a night to remember…

To kick things off, "Macho Man" by the Village People blats through the PA. The crowd is ballistic, The Macho Man making an entrance to kick off the show, it looks to be an exciting night. He enters down the ramp with his sunglasses set in a superb fashion on his face. He looks in the air and takes a deep breath through his nostrils, soaking in the appreciation from all the machomaniacs in the crowd tonight. His ensemble that he wears tonight bears black dress pants and a tight white t-shirt. He struts down to the ring to his music and slaps hands with some of the fans and then goes up the steel steps with a spring in his, well, step. As he enters the ring he runs to each turnbuckle, taking a five second pose on each while raising one arm in the air, while thousands of flashes are produced from the photographs being taken of him. Once he is finished he struts around the middle of the ring and reveals he has a mic in his hand. He looks up at the sky and raises his arm, pointing the mic downwards at his mouth....

Randy: OoOoOoH Yeaaaah!!!!

At the announcement of this now immortal catchphrase, the fans all pretty much simultaneously raise their hands in the air into a clenched fist and respond....

OoOoOoOoH Yeaaaaah!

Randy: The Macho Motel is STILL open for business jabronis, brudahs and machomaniacs alike! Tell your friends, tell your hoes, tell the press, cause there’s a two five ass whuppins' for the price of one deal that is for a unlimited time only! Thats right, you heard it from THE People's Champion!

RDK walks around while nodding his head, showing off his content look.

Randy: ...So I was thinking, why not give an ANALYSATION on this whole rebirth of the Corporate Alliance jabroni bullshit? I mean, I am SURE the PEOPLE want to know The Macho Mayun's two cents on the matter, am I correct? If you want to hear, The Macho Mayun give his opinion on the Jackson Five, GIVE ME AN OoOoH Yeah!

RDK cups his ear with his hand...

OoOoOoOoH Yeaaaaah!

Randy: THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN!

"Macho Man, Macho Man, Macho Man!"

Randy: Where should I start? The Macho Mayun will keep it as short as he can, because he wants to let the Corporate Alliance know that, come dick or jane or Chris Mclane, The message will be sent! The Macho Man is NOT afraid to fight any of the jackasses in this ensemble we got here...roll the tape!

The mini alphatron flashes to reveal a picture....

The reaction the crowd gives is obvious, RDK just smiles while pointing at the picture...

Randy: Him and "ALL HIS PRED HEADS" probably would shit three loafs when I say this, but goddayum brudahs, this skinny ass blondy is a no good shit licker to Burger King! Brudahs, it doesn't matter which way you put it, itty bitty, shitty titty....THIS ASS KISSIN BURGER LICKIN' POT STICKIN' JABRONI IS GOING DOWN AFTER THE MACHO-SLAYUM!!!

The crowd clap and cheer in respect of the macho man's words. RDK snaps his fingers and the alphatron changes pictures...

Randy: Chickity China the Chinese Chicken, have a drumstick and you're brain starts tickin'! Chop Suey here, Chow Mein there, like I said with about Predator before, IT DON'T MATTER! He thinks he's a bigshot because he pinned The Macho Mayun? Nooooo way brudah! Step into the ring with me, one on one sometime, and WE WILL SEE, who the MACHO MAYUN is around HERE!

The crowd continue their support as the clip changes...

A huge reaction of cheers and boos floods the area. RDK begins to laugh as he looks at the picture...

Randy: ...There...hahahaha, is no comment for this one...keep them comin'....lets just skip to our final foe...

The ACW International Champion

Randy: WHOOOOOOA, WHOOOOOA, WHOOOA! The Macho Mayun is NOT impressed! Who let this man be International Champion? Oh wait, Burger King did! The People's Champion has been goin day in and day out, on a mission to relieve this man of the championship. I gave him a chance, I took him under my wing, and then...he turned his back, HE TURNED HIS BACK, ON ARRRRR TO THE DEEEE TO THE KAYYY! OoOoOoH NoOoOoOoH!!!!! Genocide, Ultimate X, WE HAD BUSINESSS LEFT UNFINISHED! Last week on Warfare, you snuck up on me and stole a victory! At Fallen Heroes, I challenge you to a match...no funny shit, no stipulations...a straight up wrasslin' match! Fuck, bring your whole Corporate Alliance to ringside if you want to, I DON'T GIVE A FLYING APPLE-JOHN BRUDAH! SO AT FALLEN HEROES ITS GONNA BE THE IRON MAN VERSUS THE MACHO MAYUN IN THE FINAL CONFRONTATION FOR THE A-C-W INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! AND THAT BRUDAHS, IS GUAR-AN-DAMN-TEEEED!

RDK throws his mic down on the mat and rolls out of the ring, throwing off his sunglasses on his way up the ramp. The fans are ballistic and send him off with a positive reaction. RDK has left a message, and it appears Fallen Heroes will be the final chapter in this long feud....but is it set in stone?

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Falling apart (Credit: WeDrag, Tornado)

The camera opens up in the Untouchables locker room. Dan and Red are playing on the PS2, what looks to be a Baseball game, and naturally, Red is kicking his ass. Jonny meanwhile stands next to a microwave oven, impatiently waiting for the pizza to be ready. The atmosphere is calm, but there is little communication apart from the occasional groan coming from Dan as he gets yet another man out. The locker room door swings open, and the camera zooms out to see the fourth member of the stable, Tornado, walk in with a gym bag over his shoulder. Dan pauses the game and gets up off his seat. He walks over to Tornado and Tornado extends a hand, expecting to either be hugged or at least a handshake by Dan.

THWACK!!!

The other two Untouchables immediately rush towards Dan, who’s holding his fist, clearly in pain. But the real shock is seeing Tornado lying on the floor. He slowly gets to his feet, but checks his brow to see that he’s been cut open. He lunges forward at Dan, but Jonny and Red hold them back.

Tornado: What the fuck was that for? I’d kick your arse right now!

Dan: Yeah? Well don’t you DARE touch Charlotte like that!

Dan tries to get forward, but Red keeps him in place.

Tornado: How the fuck was I supposed to know you were sleeping with her?

Dan: Well look, she’s a fucking human being! You can’t expect to go around and force girls to snog you! Of course that IS the only chance you have of getting laid…

Tornado tries to get forward at Dan, but Jonny holds him firmly. Tornado just smirks, and spits in Dan’s face. Jonny and Red let go on impact, looking rather shocked at Tornado.

Tornado: Fuck you, Dan.

Jonny tries to grab Tornado, but Tornado shoves passed him and out the door. Dan gets to his feet, first aided by Red, but he pushes Red away a little, before wiping the spit off his face. He looks a little pissed off, but tries to ignore the issue as he walks back over to the couch, sitting on it with his hands covering his head.

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: A fresh start (Credit: Holocaust)

It was almost time for his match, and John Harris was restless.

“Settle down, c’mon. You can’t be nervous, can you? I mean, yeah, it’s your first match on a big show like this, but… You’re freaking Holocaust. You never get nervous.”

Harris tossed him a glance that conveyed precisely what he would do to the smaller, slimmer man named Seth if he were to infer about his confidence again. And with said inference about the inference, Cowell backed down a little.

“Sorry. But man, buck up a bit. You’ve been damn near killing everything in front of you, you’ve got a huge group behind you now, and yeah I know you’re not too happy. But, think of it like this…”

Seth moved in front of him, arms crossed, his tailored and pressed dress pants making tiny “shwip” sounds as he paced.

“These guys are high rollers. Yeah, you want to find someone who you can’t beat, someone that will actually put up some kind of fight and not get obliterated in the end like all those other guys. But think of this as a hell of a big stepping stone toward that. See… I made a deal. You work as an outside agent for these guys, these Senatorialites, and we make money. A LOT of money.”

He stopped, turning to face the silent and unmoving Holocaust.

“And money means good living. Good food. Good clothes.”

Yeah, for you.

“And it means that if push came to shove, the One-Man World War would have someone to help out if numbers became an issue. Yeah, I know you’re not a people person… The reputation kinda points at that… But you need to bear with me on this. I know what I’m doing and I’ve never let you down before.”

Unless you count those other times.

----------

The screen cut to black, the far off screams and machine gun fire of a pitched battle all that greeted the senses for a time. The screen flicked to the broad, glistening back of a human killing machine for a split second before fading to darkness, noise and static creeping up on the viewer’s vision. The feedback was high-pitched and keening, the vision blurring and then doubling just as the monster began to turn.

The feed cut to a black and white shot of an army marching to war with tanks behind, the steady tramp of feet overlayed with the excited announcer:

“…[scchkt]caust has just laid waste to [sshhft]…”

Closeup shots, uncomfortably close, of the man who’d been singlehandedly responsible for decimating all in his path in one fashion or another in action. No good deed went unpunished, no victory without a swift and brutal counterattack.

“[zzth]all my years of broadcasting, I have never[stcht]…”

The shot flickered to an aerial view of bombs dropping from the hold of a B-12, as they exploded against the cityscape an image of a point of the War Machine combo was superimposed over it in a retrospective. A man, fist raised before the rabid throngs, spoke in a foreign tongue about conquest and victory. Over this was shown the Senatorial Stable as a faction and when the image went back to the crowd the buzzcutted behemoth raised his hands and roared.

That picture faded into nothing, the film grain laying over the view of a small room. Not unlike what had been seen in previous outings of the same nature. Bare bulb swung slowly overhead, but this time the monster faced the camera. Biceps and triceps bulged and shifted under skin as the smaller compatriot smiled.

“It’s begun, hasn’t it? I told you, but no one prepared. Predator didn’t prepare, Fallout didn’t prepare… But My esteemed colleague the Senator prepared. He approached me, wishing to commission this two-legged weapon of mass destruction to do some work for the esteemed Senatorialites. I agreed, naturally, and one very nice paycheck later and the One-Man World War has found his allegiance lying with the most powerful group in ACW.”

The film seemed to run off the reel for a second before aligning itself.

“Hide your women. Lock your children in the basement, because the sheer power of the War Machine will rip the roof off of this stadium. No matter the opponent, no matter the situation, my charge always emerges victorious in the end. Say goodbye to the wife and children, Tornado, they’ll find enough of you after the match to send you back home in a shoe box.”

The film skipped at Holocaust’s wicked smirk spread over his face, the film vibrating and then burning through to leave a white screen that faded gradually to black.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Heartbroken (Part1) (Credit: JackofHeartz)

Camera sets its focus on a dark figure hunched over sitting in a chair in a shoddy apartment.
The figure isnt recognisable......until the camera zooms into what he is holding in his hand.....
the JackOfHeartz........

(The crowd has a mixed reception- this is the man who so rudely approached them on his debut....
but also fort 2 hard battles on one card).

He the tucks the card back into his wallet. Sits back and reaches down beside his chair. He clutches
a bottle of Jack Daniels. Knocks it back with a meaning. He gets up and walks to the window and looks out....
all there is, is mayhem on the streets........police sirens.....men shouting.....drunken fools....legions of
deaf dumb and blind.

Jack: Fucking idiots.........

He takes another swig of Jack Daniels.

Jack: Pricks....looking for fucking attention....im surrounded by these fucking losers.

Then something catches his eye.........a young woman walking through the alley. Jack sets his sights
on her, working out the eye candy value....something, anything to solve his boredom.

She then stops suddenly.........and screams. In the corner of Jacks eye he see's a man, of big build running out
behind a a stack of wooden boxes. He grabs her and chucks her to the floor. Jack doesnt need to see anymore.
He runs down the flight of stairs from his flat. And out onto the street.

Jack: HEY- motherfucker, what the fuck...leave the girl along.....

The man turns around, he is panting heavily, with his belt undone....Jack knew his intentions.........

Rapist: *panting* fuck u man.....dont get in my fucking way......

Jack stares at him. Jack is the master of mind games....master of card tricks.....master of deception.
He locks his stare.....

Jack: jack of heartz.......bitch.

Rapist: What the fuck u on, get the fuck ou-

Jack: Jack......of........heartz.

Jack whips out his Jackofheartz playing card and holds it as if its a weapon. He then walks upto the man......
Eyes locked reapting....'JackOfHeartz'......

The rapist is now confonted by a mad man.
One thing Jack knows.....is that.......a dumb, deaf, blind human can well face anything they have knowledge of
or about. But they will always fear something different, alien. Its not what you think.....it's what you know that counts.
The power of Jack's mind forces the rapist to give up....no way will he stand around and fight with someone or something
he knows nothing off.....no way will he fight a fear.

Jack helps the woman up.....she is beautiful.....long silky, shiny black hair, big brown eyes and a sensual mouth.....
her eyes sparkle, lighting up in focus.

Woman: Th-th-thank you so much...i was so sc...i didnt know what to d.....

The women bursts out crying. Jack holds her. He feels a warmth from her, a warmth only felt before his mother died.
He still feels as though he never truly let go.........!

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 1: Holocaust vs. Tornado (Credit: Latino)

Enough chat; it’s action the fans want, and action they’re about to get. Philip is already in the ring.

Phillip: Ladies and Gentlemen this next match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first from Manchester, United Kingdom…..weighing in at 220 lbs….at a height of 6’0….Tornado!

All lights go out, music plays, a pyro goes off and the lights come on. Tornado appears and raises his arms above his head then sprints down to the ring. He leaps onto the apron and, using the top ropes, flips forward into the ring. As his feet hit the canvas a small pyro bursts out of each turnbuckle. Tornado then stands on a turnbuckle, raises his arms above his head and flips backwards, landing on his feet. He then repeats this on the opposite turnbuckle and waits for his opponent.

Phillip: And his opponent from Hartford, Connecticut…weighing in at 300 lbs at a height of 6’8”……Holocaust!

The beginning strains of a guitar are heard over the stadium's speaker system. At approximately the ten-second point of the song, a set of pyros set into the stage on the sides of the entrance ignite in a dual line of explosions. Holocaust takes the stage just as this happens to the boos from the crowd, his manager walking behind him and exchanging words with the fans. Holocaust pays them no mind, however, and simply walks down to the ring and steps over the rope into it.

* The Bell Rings *

The match starts off as Holocaust walks around the center of the ring and Tornado stares him down waiting for the right attack. As he walks behind Tornado, Holocaust lunges forward with a jab to the back. Tornado falls forward and Holocaust is still on him as he throws another punch right in the kidneys. Tornado continues to stumble forward and Holocaust then runs forward with a shoulder charge directly in the back of Tornado. He falls against the ropes with his arms draped over the edge. Holocaust then grabs Tornado by the hair and then whips him across the ring. Tornado then bounces off the ropes and Holocaust then goes for a stiff chop. Tornado ducks the attack and as he passes his opponent he jumps up for a low dropkick to the back of the knee. Holocaust falls down to one and Tornado rolls backward, getting back to his feet. He them runs across the ring passing Holocaust in the middle of the ring. He then returns and then leaps forward with a bicycle kick. The boot smacks Holocaust across the face with a loud SMACK!, that can be heard all over the audience seating. The big man falls over and Tornado lands on his feet as he looks around for a brief few seconds. He runs the ropes once again and leaps over Holocaust, grabbing him by the waist and rolling him over. He then goes for the cover as Holocaust’s body is nearly bent like an accordion. The Referee slides on the and starts to count.
.
.
.
ONE!
.
.
Kickout by Holocaust before the Referee can even make a two count. Tornado is pushed back and Holocaust rolls under the ropes. The fans are on their feet and starting to side with Tornado as they start chanting “Holocaust Sucks!” over and over again. He turns around yelling at a few close by fans and then he looks back at the ring to see Tornado come at him with a strong baseball slide. Holocaust is sent into the audience barrier and Tornado then rolls completely underneath the ropes. He walks over to Holocaust and throws a punch but it’s blocked and Holocaust throws one of his own. He then knees Tornado in the stomach and then quickly grabs him with both arms and performs a snap powerslam right on the mats. He looks up and can hear the Referee yelling out
.
.
.
THREE!
.
.
.
FOUR!
.
.
.
FIVE!

Holocaust gets up as he grabs Tornado by the hair. After both men are on their feet Holocaust elbows him in the stomach. Then he then runs Tornado’s face into the steel post.
.
.
.
SIX!

Holocaust rolls Tornado back in the ring and quickly follows him as he then goes for a cover. He grabs Tornado’s leg and hooks it for the pin and the Referee quickly starts writing. He slaps the ring mat once…..twice…..and just as he goes for three Tornado puts his foot on the rope, breaking the count. Holocaust looks over at the Referee with that look of pure anger as all the fans give out a small pop. Holocaust now stands up as he walks away from Tornado planning his next move. Tornado starts to get up as he gets on his knees. He looks up and Holocaust charges at him with the F-16 Kick nailing it directly in the middle of his face. He practically rolls backward into the turnbuckle corner. Holocaust then runs straight in the corner with charging knee to the face, but Tornado jumps out of the way in the nick of time. Holocaust drives his knee into the corner and then Tornado runs towards the ropes and springboards off the middle rope. He grabs Holocaust by the head and performs a near flawless Tornado DDT nailing it perfectly. They both lay on the mat for a few seconds as the fans are cheering a little all around them. Tornado moves back up onto his feet and then stumbles over towards the corner once again. He climbs up the turnbuckles one by one until he reaches the top. He looks around to all the fans and they give out another small cheer. Then without notice he leaps out of the corner with the Whirlwind. Tornado comes down hard onto Holocaust and the Referee makes the count once more.
.
.
.
ONE!
.
.
.
TWO!
.
.
.
THREE!

Phillip: Here is your winner….Tornado!

Tornado’s arm is raised by the Referee as his theme is played in the background. He smiles broadly as he walks towards the ropes and Holocaust starts to get back up. Tornado takes notice to this and quickly leaves the ring as he does not want any of what Holocaust may give out after this match. Holocaust charges at the ropes and yells at Tornado whom is now a bit down the entranceway making sure to keep his distance. The camera shoots back between both men as the scene fades to black.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Retro Segment #3 (Credit: Sarin / Yoko)

October 2nd, 2005

The Satoshi household, Okinawa, Japan

The doorbell rings. Sarin and Yoko have not moved an inch since Yuki announced their parents imminent arrival.

Sarin: Answer the door, Yoko.

Yoko: Answer the door, Yuki.

A very pregnant paused, followed by a grumble and a sigh.

Yuki: Fine.

Sarin glances sideways at a motionless Yoko. Though Yoko's infamous impassive facial expressions are incredibly difficult to read, Sarin--who knows her lover all too well--immediately recognizes the tell-tale right eye, left thumb twitches, signs that can only point to one conclusion:

Yoko's nervous.

Sarin: I've handled worse situations with extreme finesse, Yoko. Try to have a little confidence that I can get us through this.

Yoko: What's worse than "meeting the parents?"

Sarin's grim smile slips into a smirk.

Sarin: Catching BK London in my lingerie.

Yoko: ...Did you really-

Sarin: A story for another time! Come on!

Sarin grabs Yoko by the hand and leads her downstairs to their unknown fate. As they enter the living room, they see Yuki talking nervously with her and Yoko's mother and father.

Sarin: Oh you must be Yoko's parents! I'm elated to meet you at last!

Yoko: Hi mom, dad.

The Satoshi couple, Mitsuo Satoshi and Tomiko Satoshi, bewildered at the presence of a woman so beautiful in their living room, shake Sarin's hand. Yoko's father, a stocky, bespectacled man well past his prime, is the first to break the uneasy silence after initial Western pleasantries are exchanged.

Mitsuo: Who are you?

Recalling that the Japanese are known for their etiquette and social grace, Sarin is a bit taken aback by the bluntness of his initial question. Apparently this bluntness is also very uncommon, as Yuki takes it as a signal to flee to the kitchen. Sarin raises an eyebrow, and allows Yoko to answer for her.

Yoko: Dad, this is Sarin Rossi. You know...the Scarlet lady from ACW. The one that I was telling you about...?

Yoko's father nods, too entranced by Sarin's beauty to do much else. Yoko's mother steps forward, a shy, timid housewife in the traditional Japanese style.

Tomiko: You like tea? I bring you some.

Sarin quickly shakes her head politely, bowing.

Sarin: No, thank you, really, that's quite alright. I don't mean to stay--

Yoko: Nonsense, you can't vacation in a regular hotel, not when I'm three blocks away.

Yoko's parents simultaneously close their eyes and draw in a long breath. Yuki pokes her head out from behind the door, listening in. Sarin, sensing mounting tension, steps on Yoko's foot to shut her up.

Sarin: Mr. and Mrs. Satoshi, I truly do not intend on inconveniencing you. I'll check in at the--

Tomiko: You, you Scarlet lady. You bring daughter happiness.

She struggles to articulate her feelings in a language difficult for her. Seeing this, Yoko's father steps in.

Mitsuo: Right. And though this relationship is a peculiar one, one we are not familiar with, God smite us down before we alienate someone who brings our daughter the happiness she has long deserved.

They both come forward, arms open, and embrace Sarin in an awkward--but loving, hug. Close to tears, Sarin bows before them, her actions expressing what words cannot.

Sarin: Thank you, thank you.

Yoko: She'll sleep up in my room. C'mon, I'll help you with your luggage.

Sarin and Yoko exit the house and start unloading Sarin's taxi.

Sarin: That went well.

Yoko: Yes. Now the only problem is convincing Yuki to move back to her room.

Sarin: I'm sure we'll think of something.

Sarin leans over and kisses Yoko swiftly on the cheek.

Sarin: I missed you.

Yoko: I missed you too, let's get you unpacked!

Sarin: I need to pay the taxi first.

Yoko: I'll be waiting for you.

Sarin runs outside to quickly pay the taxi driver before running to Yoko's room, her new home.

Fade out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: The short straw (Triple Quote FTW) (Credit: Torak)

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead one to sovereign power. – Alfred Lord Tennyson

By constant self-discipline and self-control you can develop greatness of character. – Grenville Kleiser

Those who can first control themselves can then command others

A function engineered into us at conception yet a function rarely used. Most bypass their option of self-control and instead opt to lash out, react in a brash manner or generally “Leap before they look”.
Some may call it spontaneity. I call it lack of self-control.

It is a common occurrence in everyday existence. For example, one may learn only half the facts. These are enough to boil the blood of wrath and prompt you to act impetuously with seriously contemplating the consequences.

Mark arrived home, earlier than usual. He’s glad Robert informed him of that shortcut through the backstreets, allowing him to avoid all that traffic that usually draws his rage to the surface. Sometimes he just feels like…wait…what’s this?

There is a pair of shoes lying guiltily inside the front door. Now, this isn’t extremely unusual. They always remove their shoes at the door to avoid carrying all sorts of dirt and soil through the house. But, who is visiting at this time? Especially when Mark isn’t usually home from work yet. His wife isn’t, or shouldn’t be home yet either. She starts work later than Mark and subsequently arrives home an hour later than he does.
But then again, what self-respecting burglar would remove his shoes before entering the house?

He takes no chances. Paranoia clings unshakably to his thoughts. He considers that whoever is in the house must have had reasons for removing his shoes. He stealthily opens the draw of the sideboard just in the hallway and reaches in slowly, stretching to the back of the draw and underneath some sheets of paper and a book, carefully trying not to make any noise. He pulls out a gun. He’d never used it before but always wanted to keep one, just in case.

He shifts silently through the house until he hears voices in the bedroom. He edges toward the door, fear biting at his throat but he swallows hard, the saliva seemingly containing courage that washes the fear away. He barges in and sees his wife, sitting on the bed…with her dressing gown on. Standing a few inches away there is a tall dark haired man.

Involuntarily, Mark’s arm raises and aims at the man. A loud bang precedes the quiet, lifeless thump on the floor. A scream follows as the gun is aimed at his wife. Another shot and she falls backwards on the bed. Blood splatters on Mark’s face and seems to arouse his senses once more. He realizes what he has done.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices the bedroom window, smashed open with the shards of glass littered on the floor surrounding a rather hefty look brick. He returns his glance to the man he slayed and instantly notices his clothing.
It’s not ordinary clothing, but a uniform. A familiar uniform. It is the uniform of a police officer.
His mind drowns in his mistake. He rushes over to his wife and frantically tries to revive her but his efforts are prove to be futile. He cradles his wife as tears of regret stream of his face.

Needless to say, for him: it hasn’t been a great day.

One day. Just one day away. We are just one day from falling on Friday the 13th, the superstitious among us pleased that it is a Thursday instead. Though, Steve isn’t particularly pleased. He’s having the most rotten luck.
The clipboard in his hand he shuffles tentatively down the corridor with his mind racing. He mutters to himself:

”Why did I pick that straw? What an idiot, I should’ve picked the one next to it!”

Talking to yourself is considered a sign of madness, though, you may be able to forgive Steve for his lapse of sanity once you discover his predicament.

You see, prior to the show it was decided that all participants should sign a confirmation form, to not only confirm their involvement in the Fallen Heroes Battle Royale but to agree that should they suffer any injury due to being eliminated and thrown outside to the floor then ACW cannot be found liable. A sneaky clause, but some might find worthy given the possible consequence of winning the match.

Usually, this sort of thing is academic, not considered worthy of valuable ACW air-time. However, the blood-thirsty producers of ACW decided that this particular signature may be worth filming.

Whilst who was going to obtain the other star’s signatures was resolved simply, there was one signature that everyone was reluctant to attain. That’s where Steve was heading now.

And him of all people. He has a history with Torak;

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

A shot of the backstage area is transmitted. A quiet whir echoes throughout that part of the building. 18 Wheelers with their trailers opened revealing spare ring posts, ropes and other equipment belonging to ACW. A handful of staff members who are busily shirking from their duty, are gathered together engaged in a highly sophisticated conversation.

Guy #1 : I heard a rumour that one diva here just needs to have it like...ALL the time!
Guy #2 : Really? Who? Tell me...
Guy #1 : You didn't hear it from me but...

He halts mid sentence and the words are almost stuck in his mouth. The second staff member has also lost interest in what he had to say. They both appear to be transfixed by something out of shot. The other staff members around them are also hypnotized by this mysterious body. The entire backstage staff have been converted into wax dummies as if by magic. After a few seconds of silence one of them snaps out of his trance...

Guy : I think I've died and gone to heaven...

The mystery is soon lifted as from around the corner walks an astonishingly resplendent figure. Her long dark hair flowed all the way down her neck and stroked the back of her dark but translucent body attire. Her high heel boots made a satisfying clomp on the hard floor as she strolled past the indolent employees without even glimpsing at them. She makes only five more steps before she halts on the spot as one of the workers sends a wolf whistle in her direction. She sighs and grimaces before turning around to face the men. She applies a fake smile and adopts a suggestive look in her eyes as she tilts her head menacingly.

Guy : Hey lads, I'm in here, learn from the pro.

The man clasps his hands together and rubs them cockily. He is a burly fellow and he flaunts the fact by wearing a very tight t-shirt. Just as he starts to make his way over to the woman he stops dead in his tracks and once again reverts to his wax dummy state. This time a look of shock and despair is on his face as if Satan himself has materialized before his very eyes. It is not Satan, however at first glance the image is almost as alarming. A figure that is only described as human as it is the most logical assumption. His face is hidden behind a frightening green and black mask that may have made a few cameo appearances in nightmares around the globe. His choice of attire, a tight black vest shows off his enormous arms which bear tattoos of various images such as a sun with an evil face, a crescent moon with a personal symbol next to it and other various scary images. His midsection is embraced with a thick black belt which is wrapped around expensive looking leather pants. The staff member, who suddenly has the stature of a baby can only glare at the man in awe, trying arduously to hide his fear. The man approaches him and looks down at him, breathing heavily through his nose. The woman rushes over and steps between the two. She smiles up at the masked stranger before turning to the petrified worker. She has a evil smirk on her face before beginning...

Woman : So you think you're a real man? You reckon you could handle a woman like me? Or handle a man like Torak?

She points at the masked brute, leading the employee’s eyes to the gaze of Torak. He starts sweating profusely but doesn't pluck the courage to raise his hands to wipe the sweat from dripping into his eyes. He tries to speak but nothing feasible or in fact, English. The woman turns her head back to face the worker and Privately commands his attention. He strictly retains his focus on her eyes only in fear that if his eyes drift to any other part of her body he'd have to face the consequence. She lubricates her soft pink lips with her tongue before continuing...

Woman : Now, if you want to continue working here, or anywhere else, or even be consciously aware of what goes on around you for the rest of your life I suggest you go back to what you were doing and we can forget this confrontation ever happened.

The worker's lip quivers as he stutters a few audible blurts before finally managing to construct a feasible response.

Guy : Yes ma'am

She smiles and lightens the tone of her voice.

Woman : Please, my name is LaBlanc...Cordelia LaBlanc. You can refer to me as Ms. LaBlanc. I'm not French but I satisfy the fantasies of many. Torak here is my fiancé.

She lifts her hand to show off an impressive diamond ring that glistens as the light reflects from it.

There is a moment of awkward silence before Cordelia raises her eyebrows and enquires...

Cordelia : Do you have a name by any chance?

He pauses for a second and frantically searches his brain trying to recollect the required information. It suddenly blurts it out.

Guy : My name's Steve, Steve Osbourne.

Cordelia : Okay then Steve, as you may know we are new here so would you care to direct us to the locker room area?

Steve : Sure, I'll show you.

Torak immediately steps forward causing Steve to stumble backwards and almost lose his balance.

Steve : Oh you know what, I forgot I've got something really important to do. All you need to do is go through that door there and turn left. Turn right and you'll see it.

Steve uses his hands nervously to assist his directions. He backs away from Cordelia and she glances at him before thanking him. Cordelia turns her back to Steve and follows the directions given to her by Steve.

Torak lingers on the spot for a few seconds with his eyes fixed on Steve. Steve looks at him anxiously. Torak approaches him and goes mask to nose with Steve. He lingers there for a few seconds before walking away. Once Torak has gone Steve lets out a huge sigh of relief. [/i]

A sigh wasn’t the only thing he let out either. He ended up wetting himself from the whole ordeal. An incident that no-one backstage will allow him to forget.

He reaches the door of destiny and aptly enough the number on the door is 13. As if Steve wasn’t paranoid enough. He cautiously edges toward the door and lifts his hand up. He doesn’t knock. His hand just drifts in the air, inches from the door. He can feel the revulsion emanating from inside, warm against his hand as if there were a fire inside. He plucks up the courage and knocks the door twice. He stumbles backwards in braces himself.

The door swings open so fast the Steve almost gets sucked into the room. The force of the door opening causes the paper on Steve’s clipboard to curl upwards and over the top of the clipboard. Steve gazes, almost in a trance, at the figure that lingers in the doorway. Steve corrects the paper, not once taking his eyes off Torak. He extends the clipboard toward him and nervously proposes:

”S-s-s-sign here, p-p-p-please?”

Torak glares into his eyes, his intimidation pounds away at Steve’s confidence. Torak’s arm reaches up…and it all goes black for Steve.

Moment’s pass and finally Steve regains self-control.

”Is---it it over?”

He loses his self control for a brief second as he opens his eyes and realizes he’s in the same place and in-tact. He even feels himself to confirm.

”Hot diggidy! I’m still alive!”

Though, not for much longer if he carries on. Torak stares at him like a dinosaur would a lamb. Steve feels a bit sheepish but he notices Torak extend his arm, attempting to hand back the clipboard.

A battle takes place. The battleground being Torak’s mind.

Fury, the greatest knight of malevolence marches onwards until it stumbles upon it’s greatest adversary: Self-Control.
A fierce battle rages as pride, passion, self-esteem, desire, self-loathing and pure hatred watch on. Self-esteem claims Self-control is overrated while pride claims fury is being over-pushed.

Cordelia!

Memory charges in with the distraction. Bait which Fury takes a bite of and is subsequently slayed by Self-control. Pride and passion are overjoyed by the victory, but it’s evident that this is the first of many, greater battles.

Torak continues to glare at Steve who is still frozen there, returning the gaze as if looking at the face of Medusa. He slowly and timidly reaches up and takes a hold of the clipboard. He tries to pull it away but Torak’s grip is strong.

Fury makes one desperate assault…but Self-control is on hand to drive the sword of suppression through the heart of it’s enemy. Fury slumps to the pits from whence it came.

Torak releases his grip on the clipboard. Steve backs away and a smile spreads on his face.

”Thank You! Thank you sir. Thank you”

Torak raises an eyebrow as Steve comically bows and even curtsys as he continues to stumble backwards, eventually meeting the wall. Steve jumps in fear and turns to face the wall, initially believing that Torak somehow managed to get behind him.
Realizing it’s merely a wall he turns back to the doorway. However, the door is now closed.

Steve begins to let out a sigh of relief…but he stops half-way through exhalation and freezes again. Eventually, he looks down at his pants.

”Aw…damn it”

In his room, away from the distraction, Torak is able to think. The memory of her keeps flooding back. He remembers the moment that he lost her, probably forever.

Cordelia is brimming with emotion. Her eyes welled up with tears and a tone of sadness clings unshakably to her every word.

“So what’s it to be Jack? Do we give up everything we’ve worked at, everything we shared together to form our love…because you can’t grasp the fact that you couldn’t defeat Latino! Or is it more than that?”

Torak seethes, he knows it is more, but not much more than that. Not only has he been left humiliated by his loss, he now has to answer to the woman he calls his fiancé, his lover…the only person who has ever loved him.

“It’s bad enough that you just flat out walked out on ACW…but now you’re walking away from me too? You have to snap out of this! You have to see sense!”

He sees no sense. All he sees is the red mist descend upon him and prompts him to act without much though. His arm raises so quickly that Cordelia has no chance to react before it strikes her hard and cleanly across her face, knocking her flat on the floor. She clutches her face and tears stream from her eyes. She sobs as she looks down at the floor, almost ashamed of herself.

Where was self-control then? Why didn’t it show up to rescue Cordelia from Fury then? Self-control, it seems, is not always available.

He wonders, will he have self-control in his match with Jack of Heartz later tonight?

He hopes not.

A smirk draws on his face. His fury is not dead yet. It was merely playing possum.

Fade out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: The Skill, the Thrill, and the Spill, Baby! (Credit: Sarin)

Sarin, clad in a short breezy top with a matching loose tropical skirt, is chatting animatedly to several natives of Kingston, Jamaica, all of whom seem to tower over her. She happily shakes their hands and signs a few autographs.

Sarin: For you, sir? No, it's no trouble at all. Your name?

Voice: His name is Pathetic, just like all these other losers here.

Sarin pauses her signing and slowly turns around, coming face to face with...

Sarin: Scott Andrews. I should have known.

Her voice is even and quiet. Sensing impending trouble, the Jamaicans quickly gather their belongings and scramble back to their seats. Scott smirks and lights a cigarette. Sarin rolls her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently.

Sarin: Well?

Scott: "Well" what?

Sarin: What new boatload of elitist arrogance are you about to spew from your pompous mouth? Please, don't keep me hanging in suspense.

Scott: Whoa, there. I didn't come here to start a fight. I just wanna talk.

Sarin stares at him, incredulously. Scott takes a long drag from his cigarette and exhales the hot smoke on Sarin's face. Sputtering, she hastily fans the fumes away from her.

Sarin: What the hell are you doing?

Taking advantage of her vulnerability, Scott wraps a strong arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

Scott: Look at the beautiful Caribbean sky! Isn't it romantic?

Sarin: Allah, spare me. Whatever my faults, I don't deserve this horrible attempt to win my affections.

Scott: Aw, come on! Give the guy a chance here!

Sarin: Look, Scotty...

Scott grits his teeth.

Scott: It's Scott Andrews.

Sarin: Yes, the "Scarlet Assassin" or whatever incredibly unimpressive name you're using nowadays. The point is: since I boarded this cruise ship, every male on the ACW roster, Ginger included, has been vying for my attention. Even more taxing, every male alive has been vying for my affections since puberty. May I please enjoy a pleasant cruise ship without the worry of the next pathetic suitor knocking at my door?

Scott: How many times a day does Yoko get you off? Clearly she's not doing her job properly.

Sarin gasps, shocked.

Sarin: Excuse me?

Scott: You're too uptight to realize what a golden opportunity you have. Imagine, Scott Andrews and Sarin Rossi, side by side, together!

He pulls her closer, extending a hand and gazing out into the distance, as if spotting a golden horizon of lucrative wealth and success. Sarin shrugs him off.

Sarin: Get off me!

Scott: But baby--

Sarin: Baby baby baby! I've had enough. Good-bye.

Sarin attempts to pass Scott, but the Senatorial Stable member blocks her path. Before she can react, he wraps her in his arms and plants a huge kiss on her lips. Sarin's eyes widen and she struggles, before finally breaking his hold with a fancy reversal. Too stunned to say anything, Sarin stares blankly at Scott, who grins and flexes a bicep arrogantly.

Scott: So...would you like more of all this?

Sarin: Of course. In fact, I want all of you. Right here, right now. Close your eyes, and let me deliver.

Hardly daring to believe his good fortune, Scott hastily clenches his eyes shut. Sarin blows him a kiss before leaping into the air and nailing a gigantic bicycle kick to his chin. Scott crumples, writhing on the sand in pain. Sarin rolls her eyes and stalks off, muttering "Idiot," before the scene fades out...

End Segment.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Mutual Respect
(Credit: Rose, Senator)

Coming back from the break, Outlaw Jack Connor is seen walking along a row of lockers, when none other than the Senator walks up, tapping him on the shoulder.

The Senator: Mr. Connor! It is an honor and a privelage to have you here in ACW!

Outlaw: Well, I'm humbled by your response, Senator Phillips. Can't say I'll be around here very long, though.

Senator: You know, I watched many of your matches a while back, I think you and Dick Murdoch inspired my love of the brainbuster, and head dropping moves in general, really. Your old matches with Hansen are still considered masterful classics, you do know that, I assume. I remember that old Texas bullrope match vs. Hansen back in the AWA, '85, was it?

Outlaw: '86, actually...

Senator: And it was one heck of a brutal match, you really took the Lariat to the limit there. That crowd sure wanted your blood to begin with, but after you took that Western Lariat, that building was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Reminds me of when I hit Laureano with the Nuclear Option...

Outlaw: Yeah, funny thing was, my neck was fine, but my knee got screwed up...

Senator: Yeah, what a shame, I remember reading about that in PWI, and was quite disappointed. So, you still think you got it? I mean, if I am correct here, you would be the only person on the active roster older than myself here, if you signed.

Outlaw: I figure I still got something in the ol' tank, reckon otherwise, I'd not even try it.

Senator: Well, I got to go now, just have two quick items of advice to get across here, first, do not sign with Vince, oh, the DVD deal might be nice and all, and it could be rewarding to get yourself inducted in their Hall of Fame, but trust me on this point, Vince is first and foremost out for himself, and sees any and all competiton as the enemy. Anyone who stands up against him in any way gets burned, and burned bad. You already rebuffed him on his offer, and I do not want to see someone who I have admired to be humiliated by that man.

Outlaw: Well, I suppose I'll take my chances...

Senator: One last thing, should you ever need any support around here, someone to watch your back, or to team with, call me up.

Outlaw: Will do, see you 'round.

Connor and Phillips shake hands, and the Senator dashes off, leaving Outlaw in the locker room, pondering his future.

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 2: Torak vs. Jack of Heartz

We return to the arena to see the Jack of Heartz himself approaching the ring, as “Protect Ya Neck” booms out across the wide space.

Philip: This is a singles match set for one fall… introducing, from Hartlepool, England, the Jack of Heartz!

The scene they witnessed earlier has surprised a lot of people, and Jack gets a much stronger response from the fans as he steps up into the ring; there is a great deal of respect for him, especially considering who he’s about to take on…

Philip: And his opponent, from parts currently unknown… Torak!

”Broken Man” sends a shiver down the spine of all those listening; even in such a large arena Torak still appears huge, and towers over the watching fans as he passes. He is silent as he enters the ring, but Jack does not flinch from his gaze, and simply concentrates on his own thoughts as the referee calls for the bell.

Bell rings.

Compared against any normal man, Jack would be considered to be a powerfully built individual. However, against the phenomenon that is Torak, he is at both an height and weight disadvantage, a fact that he has already realized necessitates some changes to his usual power-based wrestling style. As Torak moves in on him, looking like he wants to break a bone or two, Jack does not panic but instead kicks Torak hard in the knee and then jerks his body to the right, correctly guessing that Torak will lash out with his right arm first. Torak misses him, and Jack trips his heavy opponent so that he lands face-first on the mat; Jack goes right to work with some savage kicks and stomps to the ribs and lower spine, draining any flecks of decent temper that might have been cowering somewhere in Torak’s subconscious. Seething, Torak rolls over and boots Jack in the lower abdomen, or at least that looks like where he’s aiming for; the widening of Jack’s eyes suggests that the blow is perilously close to a tender area, and Torak regains his feet, battering Jack with slab-like forearms and then delivering a mighty chokeslam. The crowd winces, and a notable number of the fans start to shout and encourage Jack on; Torak pulls Jack to his feet, whereby Jack cuffs Torak across the face with a forearm of his own and then mobilizes all his strength to pull off a neckbreaker. A large man like Torak is vulnerable to these kinds of impacts where his own weight works against him, and Jack quickly makes a cover, 1….2- Torak’s kick sends Jack clear away from him, and Jack hops back on his feet with a sly smile, sensing that he just may have a chance here after all…

Torak’s rage is straining at the leash, and he releases it by rolling on to his feet and charging at Jack, trying to crush him in the corner. Jack sidesteps, but Torak has anticipated this and changes his trajectory so that he bounces off the ropes next to the turnbuckle, and clotheslines Jack down from behind in a manner that almost takes Jack’s head clean off. Jack gets up swiftly, knowing he can’t leave himself open to attack, but he has lost sight of Torak for a moment and the next thing he knows, Torak has him in a tight Iron Maiden (bearhug). Jack makes himself as angular as possible with his elbows, and breaks free, but Torak is ready for this as well and nails his slipstream (Pumphandle Michinoku Driver). The fans cry out in dismay as Torak pins, 1….2..- but Jack’s arm goes up, and a swift rake of the eyes gives him the chance he needs to escape from beneath Torak’s bulk. As Torak is rising on to his hands and knees, Jack opens the window of opportunity presented and delivers a powerful scissors kick variant, KNOCKING Torak back to the canvas; with the fans getting very loud indeed, Jack moves around to Torak’s lower limbs and locks in his Lion Tamer. Torak’s clenched fists show that he is in considerable discomfort; his hand wavers for a second and the noise from the fans rises, but Torak is merely steeling himself, and he uses his immense power to claw his way a few feet across to the nearest ropes. His sheer size makes it too hard for Jack to restrain his movement, and the referee orders the break, much to Jack and the crowd’s annoyance. Jack lets go, and as Torak uses the ropes to right himself, Jack stuns everyone by picking Torak up in a Fireman’s carry; he is going for the Suicidal King (Go2Sleep), but he cannot quite hold Torak aloft for long enough, and is forced to drop him. The instant Torak’s feet touch the mat, he lifts Jack up and delivers the Medievil Driver ’05 (Blue Thunder Driver). It connects with devastating force, and Jack is not quite able to respond in time as the referee counts the 1,2,3.

Philip: Here is your winner… Torak!

The big man is clearly sweating under his grim mask as he stands up; though his sheer power was too much to resist in the end, Jack has forced Torak to work for this win. The referee checks Jack’s responses and helps him up as Torak stalks away, his more savage instincts kept in check by his opponent’s skill; the crowd applauds the up-and comer, and Jack has enough strength and chutzpah left to take a small bow as the show fades out to a break.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: No advice necessary (Credit: Rawt)

The scene opens with Rawt tieing on his boots for his title defense tonight. He gets up and looks into his locker room mirror and then nods before turning around....it is someone who he wish he didn't see...

Gelale: Rawt...

Rawt: Leave me alone woman!

Gelale: But Rawt, please...

Rawt: Fuck Gelale, I don't got a lot of time here.

Gelale: Please...just...take me back Rawt! I was with you from the very beginning! Why let now change anything? WHY RAWT!? WHY?!

Rawt: You were weighing me down Gelale. It was because of you that I was not able to rise to my now claimed prize.

Rawt slides his hand down and up the strap that sits nicely upon his waist...

Gelale: Rawt, if you do not take me back, you will regret it.

Rawt: Uhh, no! I am the Entertainment Champion, I don't need this!

Rawt said this as he pushed Gelale out of the way and slammed the door behind him. Gelale meanwhile stands there in his locker room...speechless but angry...

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: One stable, one goal (Credit: BK)

Upon the opening of this segment we are taken inside once again, the locker room of BK London. London appears to be doing very well for himself since alligning back with Ginger and the Corporate Alliance, he has got the most special treatment as it applies to the accessories in his room, in-door jacuzzi, 48-inch flat screen television, all the food he can eat...among other things, all located in this Kingston soccer/football/feetball arena locker room. But as far as people are present for, BK London, Predator, and Kiley seem to be conversating over a few things. Conversating until a knock on the door is heard of course. While no one can be sure of what is being said in this conversation, we do notice the mouthing of the words "I'll go get that", by BK himself. BK rises up from the comfy sofa in which he sat on and approaches the door before opening it.

BK: Can I help you?

The camera shot now turns towards the door and the person revealed to be at the door is none other than recently, top ACW interviewer, Charlotte King, who has been rather busy lately.

Charlotte: Well BK, I'm scheduled for an interview with you. Do you have a few seconds to spare?

BK: ....I'm kind of in the middle of discussing something. But since I do have *looks at rolex watch on his arm*...just about a half an hour before my match tonight, I guess I can spare a few seconds.

Charlotte: Well first, I would like to congratulate you and the Corporate Alliance's win against Atomic Kitsune and RDK last week.

BK: Thank you, but one thing. I am part of the Corporate Alliance, there is no need to refer to us separately.

Charlotte: I am terribly sorry, but it is an easy mistake for you to make...

BK: What does that mean?

Charlotte: Well uh..

BK: You know what? - Forget it. I think I know what happened, I think you've been spending too much time with that tramp of a champion, Atomic Kitsune. That little smart aleck thinks she has gotten the entire Corporate Alliance thing figured out hasn't she? She claims that she knows the Corporate Alliance like the back of her hand, but she doesn't know us at all. She claims that everyone in this Alliance is in this for their own personal gain and you know what?....she's right.

Charlotte: Right?

BK: She is indeed correct. The Corporate Alliance is a unit that looks out each other to secure themselves the greater good. Like the other stables in here similar to Untouchables or the Senatorial Stable, they all have grown a bond - a special friendship. And that's why on numerous occassions they can be referred to as one big revolving door. Charlotte, we don't let emotions get in the way, we do what is planned and do it well as I might say. And those who do so get rewarded. As Santiago said on Monday, we have the money, we have the women, we have the cars, we have all the fame....and what price do we pay for this? Absolutely none.So if AK wants to stand there and criticize me and my stablemates, she can because we're just doing that job. Last week on Meltdown apparently she didn't learn her lesson, but that's ok, let her be lead to believe that we aren't a threat....let her make that mistake on her own.

BK grabs the mic out of Charlotte's petite hand and pushes her aside. Now you can see the fire in his eyes and hear the sharp edge under her voice.

BK: "You are no longer a match for me..." you remember that AK? You remember those very words that you uttered on Monday after you decided to go on a mindless rambling rant about how I'm trying to relive the past with the Corporate Alliance? Good, because soon enough I'm going to make you ea- No. Soon enough I am going to take those very words, and shove them down your throat. You, if anyone, should know better than to underestimate and the power that I wield. You, IF ANYONE, should be aware that I take any precautions necessary when it comes to getting what I want.

BK pauses as the fans begin to hang on his every word, most sitting on the edge of their seat.

BK: I WANT what belongs to you Alicia. I want the possession that you hold dearest to your heart. After all these years I've known you, you haven't changed a bit have you? Your still that know-it-all, over analyzing, BITCH! From the events after the match, you should know that I am always one step ahead of you...and that's going to be all the advantage I need. I am setting the challenge right now AK, Fallen Heroes...you versus me for the ACW Championship. There I plan to strip you of your nine tails, and leave you as frail and fragile as any other woman is. There is more than one way to skin a cat AK...or a fox in this case. Remember that...remember that as I rip apart your husband tonight, and as we approach your judgment day..

The fans haven't said a word throughout BK's entire string of dialogue. Simply, BK stares into the camera, menacingly. He abruptly switches his line of vision to Charlotte and simply hands her the mic.

BK: This interview is over.

And just like that BK shuts the door right in her face and resumes back his prior position on the couch. Kiley and Predator are a little taken back by the words of BK, and why wouldn't they? It seems from that promo that BK will go to great lengths to get back what is his....the challenge has been made, will she accept?

Fade Out.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Everyone’s Favorite… Big Brother? (Credit: Hitman)

We come back from commercial and see only one man occupy the ring. It is none other than “everyone’s favorite homie” Franchi$e. The fans are jeering him.

Franchi$e: “Yo ACWizzle! So, I wizzle to the bizzle and fizzle that Hitmizzle dude all mizzle and everything!”

The fans cheer at the very name of Hitman. As for the translation machines… well they probably blew up trying to decipher Franchi$e’s sentence.

Franchi$e: “Now normally, everyone’s favorite hizzle is seen on Fallout but tonight I had to addrizzle that big lizzle. Hitman, out here! RIGHT NIZZLE!”

Franchi$e lowers the microphone and the introduction to “Another Body Murder” sends the fans into cheering. The song begins to kick in and Hitman stands on the stage. He nods to the fans and walks down to the ring. What he has been through these past few days makes the fans feel sorry for him though pity is only the weakest feeling of the heart. Franchi$e looks on at the sheer size of the man as Hitman slides into the ring. Before Franchi$e can even say a word, he is caught with a brutal clothesline that nearly turns him inside out. The crowd pops loud for this as Hitman picks him up and chokeslams him all the way to the outside. Franchi$e is not moving as Hitman picks up the mic and speaks.

Hitman: “Well so much for EVERYONE’S favorite homie.”

The crowd laughs as Hitman manages a small smile then quickly brushes it off his face. He certainly means business.

Hitman: “Now that he’s out of the way I only have one topic to address to these fans: My sister Kayla. Yes she really is held in captivity by that no-good Draco son of a bitch. Speaking of which, I got a death threat from him telling me that the challenge had been accepted. At Fallen Heroes, Hitman’s Rules is on. Hitman versus Draco. And I will probably still be in good shape for that battle royal they’ve been advertising.”

Fans pop for this as Hitman prepares to conclude his little speech.

Hitman: “Kayla, little sister, if you’re watching this, I just want to know that I love you with all my heart and you will come home. That’s a thought you can take to the bank.”

Hitman drops the mic and sees Franchi$e crawling back into the ring. Hitman approaches him and gets him in a Dominator position before lifting him up. He turns 180 and uses an arm to make a thumbs up to thumbs down motion before slamming Franchi$e into the mat with the Silver Bullet. “Another Body Murder” hits and Hitman spits at the fallen “homie” before leaving…

End segment.