Thursday Night Meltdown 2nd August 2007

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

OTA Segment: “1988 - Part 1" Credit: T-Kiss

July 31th, 1988

Las Vegas, Nevada. Born and raised. Just as the saying goes, it was a nice city to visit but one you wouldn’t want to live in. Around the clock there never is any peace. Noise, cars, screaming, fighting ... you name it. At night, there are just as many people out as there are during the day ... each with their own story to tell. And this, my friends, is mine. As I recall this day in particular, the first thing I remember was the sun. That fucking blazing Nevada sun that burns right into your skull.

Aj.: Its hot out here

It was always hot. No matter the time of year, endless heat - just like hell. Outside of the city there was nothing but barren desert. It was as if it was placed there to keep us in - to keep us all from escaping. This was a city of sinners, and it felt like everyday we were facing God’s wrath.

Mark: Its always hot here. You’d think you’d be used to it now.

Mark was my best friend, I knew him since I could remember. We grew up together as neighbors. Attended the same school, knew the same friends. When school was out for the summer, we’d always hang out together and would head out to where ever life would take us. Usually, that translated into us hanging out in places far away from the hustle and bustle, like abandoned factories at the edge of town.

Aj: I’ll never understand how you people say you get used to scorching hot - WHOA SHI-

I remember slipping like a clumsy fool, full of embarrassment as it hit the ground. Not wanting to lose any more of what little pride I had left, I rose up as quickly as I could, dusting myself off in the process. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice that the back of my shirt got torn as I fell down the hill.

Mark: Aj, you’re back?! What happened?

He saw them. I tried to keep my bruises covered all the time so people didn’t ask questions or get involved. My friends all thought it was weird that I wore long sleeve T-shirts and jeans during the summer ... if they only knew the truth. After my father left, I was the only man in the household, and my mom, well, she did her best to keep our family together. She worked long, hard hours at the casino putting up with all the filth. Sometimes she just needed to unload her troubles onto someone. Unfortunately, that someone usually meant me.

Aj: Its nothing.

Mark: But -

Aj *interrupting*: I SAID ITS NOTHING!

Mark: Oh... ok.

We continued down the railroad tracks, down to our favorite hangout, an abandoned car factory that had been shut down since the 70's. During our time there, we did stuff kids normally did at our age like throw rocks and play games. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened, as was the story of my life up until this day. We had walked these railroad tracks hundreds of times, never with incident. I don’t know how the idea shot into his mind, but out of nowhere he decided to change our plans ..

Mark: You know that new plant they are building

Aj: Yeah, what about it?

Mark: Let’s check it out! I heard they have some really good stuff in there.

Aj *hesitant*: Yeah... I don’t know ...

Mark: Oh don’t be a pussy!

Aj: I’m not. It’s just that I don’t want to get caught. My mom doesn’t know -

Mark *interrupting*: Afraid she’s going to beat you again!?

Looking back on this day, I knew he was just joking, just being a smart ass like usual. But I didn’t care. He disrespected me with those words, and I let him know it. I nailed him with a vicious right hand that sent him down onto the tracks. I didn’t even think about it or plan it out, it just happened. Like an auto response from my body defending itself from his insult. It was evident I was not behind the steering wheel, not in control.

Mark: Aj?! What -I was just joking around...

Aj: I’m .. I’m sorry Mark. I .. I don’t know what happened.

Mark: Aj! My foot.... it- it’s caught!

When he fell his foot must have went sideways right in between two of the tracks. He was stuck there like a rodent in a mousetrap, struggling to break free. As I reached down to grab his leg... I heard it.

WHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I’ll never forget that sound. That blaring horn .... that kept sounding - getting louder by the second. Mark was stuck and he was stuck good. Maybe with our combined efforts he could have broke free, but I guess I’ll never know. I didn’t want to take the chance. On this day I snuck out of my house against my mother’s wishes. If something bad happened and I was caught here, the repercussions would have been enormous. There is no telling what that woman would have done to me. I knew him well, without a doubt he would have told me on me and I just couldn’t have that. Plus, he disrespected me. Disrespected my family. It was now time for him to be taught a lesson.

Mark: AJ ... HELP ME!

Aj: .....

Mark: COME BACK AJ! COME BACK.

Aj: ............

And I left him. I never looked back, not even once. If I were to go back I would have ended up being caught and would have to endure the consequences. He died that night. At the funeral, the only thing I kept telling myself was it was better him that me. As I looked around at everyone, his family and friends, I saw the pain in their eyes and I realized that I was the one responsible for putting that pain there. And to be completely honest, it felt good. I came to a realization that my actions could change lives, families and alter the future. The feeling of power was unbelievable.

It was then, at this very moment - I knew something inside of me wasn’t quite right.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Splitting the Atom(ic)

Sunday, 11pm

Damn. Damn, Damn, Damn, Damn, Damn, DAMN.

It’s not a pretty word, but then Alicia Laureano can’t really think of another which sums her feelings up so pithily. It’s not that she lost. It’s not even that she lost by DQ. It’s that she allowed Dr. Starkweather to goad her into doing exactly what he wanted her to… and now, she feels like the lowest of the low.

A decent Shiraz, and a large bar of Galaxy have borne the brunt of the fallout from Seven Deadly Sins. Home alone for a few days due to a prior commitment on her husband’s part, Alicia has had plenty of time to carry out the grim business of post-mortem on her nightmare match. And while it’s hardly been a pleasant affair, she has started the process she really should have confronted approximately 20 months previously.

She turns over in her hands a lightly battered sealed envelope. There is a stamp and a postmark on it, but the address is not hers. It can’t be clearly seen in full, but the word “Georgia” is visible when she twists it in the right direction. Hand written at the top, by some person unknown, are the words “Not known at this address. Return to Sender”.

Alicia doesn’t really know why she kept it; it is, after all, just a mildly inoffensive Christmas card which is now two Christmases out of date. But she is fairly certain, after a long, sleepless night of consideration, that the card’s failure to find its intended recipients marked the point where she finally got the message, so to speak. And found it extremely hard to face…. So, she didn’t.

She bites her lip; it still hurts her now to understand that her weakness, so brutally exposed, is merely a symptom of the real failing; her inability to truly accept what she actually knew on that cold January day when the card came back unopened. She took the easy option; she told no one about the letter, and buried the ache it caused until on the surface she no longer noticed it. She chose what she believed was a lesser suffering over a greater one… only to finally discover as she did not 48 hours before that she had simply provided a fertile ground for that concealed pain to incubate, waiting for the time when it would be strong enough to overcome her.

The coldness along her spine redoubles; she shudders, chilled to the core by her new understanding of what she unwittingly nurtured. The only thing which is worse is the calm and clinical way in which her opponent slowly dragged it out of her…

Alicia pulls her knees up to her chest. Repulsion is the only word she has for the feeling she experienced when face to face with him, and only now does she understand what that reaction signifies.

For a few moments, she cannot cross the chasm, still cannot look the beast in the eye. But she does finally find the will to voice the word inwardly, and it makes her freeze for a second…

…and then she feels something quite different, something fleeting but warm. It’s just a hint of relief… relief at having dared to give the shadow its true name. She does not smile, but something has changed; she has given her true enemy a title, a handle, a form. Something she can grapple with, mentally and physically. And she decides, in that instant, that this is a fight which is far from over, and far from being lost.

Lying back on her couch, Alicia Laureano completes a delicate separation procedure. She has two tasks before her, both begun with a letter, and both now demanding proper resolution. Firstly, she must confront that which she has buried within her, and disarm it so that it can no longer be exploited by a cunning mind. And then… then she has to do the hardest thing, something which most people believe to be impossible. She has to strip Dr. Starkweather of his armor, his masks, his carefully constructed disguise…

…Only then will she know for sure if there is anything of worth left within the shell of a man.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

The Dead Theory: (Credit: Lambert)

A bell rings in my head as I begin to twitch, getting some feeling in my nerves and sensors… I can’t see, where am I? I feel something clasped in my hand, as I shuffle around inside trying to regain movements, I get feeling in my arms and I slowly but surely can move them, there’s a searing pain in my back, what is that? I don’t know… doesn’t matter, why’s it so cold? I can’t tell…. I don’t care, I just want to sleep… I begin to get feelings in my head and my mouth can barely open to let out a groan as my head is pierced with a horrific sharp and burning sensation racing across my skull.

The pain is too much, I feel trapped, I can move my arms and am getting a tingly feeling in my legs but I have no strength to move anywhere, my eyes start to peel open but my eyes are stricken with a burning sensation and so I put down the eyelids, I can start to feel the chill some more across my back, it’s cold… very cold, I can hear myself breathing and as I start getting more feeling I feel a strange wet patch on my chest, it’s a horrible feeling.

My senses begin to return to me as I can fully hear what’s going on now but I still can’t bring myself to open my eyes… I can hear chatter, I can hear things but can’t make out what the noise is… my movement shifts into normal and I can move myself but I don’t want to… cold or not, I feel happy here, it’s like I’m trapped in an endless void surrounded by fluffy fur, thick rugs of polar bears fur and I don’t want to leave, it feels so good… so right.

But I can’t just lie on my back all day, I need to get up and find out what’s happened to me, why I’m here and why it’s so fucking cold. God this is horrible, this stain on my chest is damp and there’s a huge weight on me, I just want to go to sleep… but I can’t, I need to get up… my eyes peel open again but this time the light isn’t as bright, my eyes open further until I can see almost completely. I see metal… but I can’t judge the distance.

Wait… it’s right in front of me, I’m in a case of metal… I’m surrounded by it and there’s white mist everywhere… I try to sit up but a sharp pain pierces around the stain area in my stomach, I move my arms and clutch it suddenly to stop it falling apart with pain… this is Hell, this burning pain in me is killing me slowly, what the Hell is going on? My only way out is at my feet.

I use what I can of my strength to shuffle out of this metal tomb, the metal door is open and I push myself out slowly, that searing pain thrashing my head, my stomach throbbing with pain as I slowly land on my feet, climbing out of the ice case to see my surroundings, more bright lights burn as I drop to one knee, the pain piercing my head again. I slowly get back to my feet and look at my surroundings….

Dominating the room is a lone examining bed with a sheet half over the bed with an unrecognizable logo across it, questions are running through my mind, where am I? Why am I here? What’s all the pain… all of these questions running through my mind as I examine the table by the doctors bed… I see scalpels, examining devise, mirrors, a torch… there’s a lot of blood on the table and then I look at my stomach to see my stomach. My stomach turns (literally) as I see the vicious wound.

Suddenly, I collapse to my knees and begin to fade, I white out completely as I thud on the floor, the last I see is the chessboard tile floor, the last thing I feel is puke, as I throw up across the floor and the last thing I hear is foot steps and a frantic and worried “Oh Fuck….” Followed by sprinting foot steps as I slowly return to slumber… forgetting the world around me…

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 3: Jonny Spade vs. Ricky Falco vs. Ross Lambert
(Credit: Jonny Spade)

As we come back from a commercial break we see 3 men in the ring ready for the next match as “Animal” by Mudmen fades off the P.A system.

*bell rings*

The bell rings and each man stands in a corner looking at their opponents looking to see who will make the first move. Jonny and Ross both look at each other and Jonny offers a quick alliance to Lambert to help take out Ricky. Ross takes up Jonny’s offer and makes his way over to Ricky. Ricky now looks at Ross who is the threat and just as Ross is about to attack Ricky he looks back and sees that Jonny hasn’t moved from his spot. In fact, Jonny gets comfortable in his turnbuckle and lets the other two fight it out. Ricky takes the opportunity and moves to Ross and starts to attack him with a few forearm shots to the head of Ross making him stumble backwards. Ricky looks towards Jonny and he sees that Jonny is staying in his corner and not wanting to get involved with the match just yet.

As for the action taking place, Ross isn’t looking so good; Ricky keeps hitting Ross with some forearm shots that keep him stumbling backwards. Eventually Ross stumbles backwards enough that he is back against the ropes and Ricky goes for an Irish whip, although unfortunately though for him Ross reverses the whip and is able to catch Ricky with a flapjack and goes for the pin and stares at Jonny to see if he will budge at all and he doesn’t yet, but luckily for him though Ricky is able to kick after a 1 count.

Finally Jonny shows some life into the match as he comes out of his corner and tells Ross to do another move that can’t be heard by the cameras. Ross seems a little hesitant at first and thinks that Jonny is going to not do anything again. Jonny offers out a hand to Ross to show his alliance towards him but just as Ross looks like he is going to shake it Ricky is seen flying through the air after performing a springboard missile dropkick onto Ross and Jonny backs away as Ricky takes the fight towards Ross once again.

Ricky then picks up Ross and puts him into a fireman’s carry and just as it looks like Ricky was going to go for the Pancake Driver, Jonny gets down on one knee and calls over to Ricky who then sees Jonny and gets the idea that he is going after and flips Ross over onto his back and throws him onto Jonny’s knee for the S-Drop #2. (Even I wrote this match and I had to look up to see which one it was.) As Ross rolls around in pain, Ricky charges towards Jonny who is still on one knee go give what appears to be a boot to the face. But Jonny thinks quickly enough and falls onto his back and ducks under the boot attempt and then gets Ricky to do a face plant into the matt. Jonny then follows up with his Spider’s Web Boston Crab but Ricky quickly makes his way over to the ropes to quickly break up the hold.

As Jonny makes his way over to the ropes Ricky gives Jonny a shot to the face and then sets him up for a suplex to the outside of the ring. But Jonny is able to overpower Ricky and Jonny gives Ricky a big suplex back into the ring. Just as Jonny and Ricky land, Ross is seen flying off the top rope with a flying knee drop landing on the upper chest of Rick to make him roll around in pain. Jonny waits until the move is executed and then goes for the pin on Ricky but Ross pulls Jonny off of Ricky to break up the pin at 1.5. Jonny stands up and starts to argue with Ross about pulling him off of Ricky, and just then from behind Ricky gives Ross a push which in turn pushes Jonny out of the ring and onto the outside mats. Ricky holds onto the waist of Ross from behind and then grabs hold of Ross by the neck (still from behind) delivers a A.D.D onto Ross and quickly goes for the pin and gets the 3 count on him.

Phillip: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH….THE ENTERTAINMENT CHAMPION….RICKY FALCON!!!

Ricky quickly rolls out of the ring and moves up the rampway as “Animal” by Mudmen plays in the background. Jonny had gotten up just in time from his tumble to see Ricky get the 3 count on Ross. Jonny looks furious about the whole ordeal that had gone down and walks up the ramp way as Mr. Lambert gets up and appears to be a little shaken up but otherwise ok. He then makes his exit back to the back as the scene changes to some place backstage.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: “Mine’s BIGGER Than YOURS!” Credit: BK/TK

[Our show returns from a commercial break by opening with a shot of Commissioner Dan White standing in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand. Behind him is a table covered in a white cloth, covering something quite large ...]

Dan White: As ACW Commissioner, it does my heart proud have the opportunity to present these two Lethal Lottery Championship Trophies to tw- *cough*one*cough* outstanding competitors. The world watched on every week as they Goodnight Kissed and Heaven Doored opponent after opponent, all the way to the winners circle! We’ll lets not make this night about me - so lets bring them out! Ladies and gentlemen ... THUNDERKISS!!!!!!!!!!! .. and bk london.

[“God of Thunder” hits the sound system and out comes Thunderkiss, decked out in the boas and non wrestling gear, a sign that he’ll be off the mat tonight. Though he no longer carries gold around his waist, all he needs right now to satisfy his ego in right there in the ring, underneath the cover. He steps in between the ropes and walks over to White and the two men pat each other on the shoulder causing an uproar of boos from the fans.]

Thunderkiss: Man of the hour, always sweet and not sour, show your power and let all the crackerjacks cower!

Dan White: OoOoOoOoOoOoOoH YEAH!

[The crowd boos their mockery of ACW legend “Macho Man” RDK]

Dan: ..oh and I guess BK London too..

"Stronger" by Kanye West blasts through the speakers and out comes a very hesitant BK London. He looks into the ring and sees both White and TK, and just knows he’s going into a place where he most defiantly will have to watch his back. Be that as it may, the Commissioner is in not a position to exchange in any fisticuffs so at least BK has that on his side. BK takes each step into the ring with the fans behind him, exchanging unpleasant looks with Thunderkiss as he rises into the ring. You can just see the anger in TK’s eyes, anger directed toward the man who clotheslined him down to the mat just under a week ago. London walks right up to Thunderkiss with no fear, his cutting music leading directly into a BK London chant.

Fans *chanting*: BEE KAY LONDON! *clap,clap clapclapclap* BEE KAY LONDON! *clap,clap clapclapclap*

BK(thinking): ...oh dear god, TNA fans are in the house tonight.

Dan White: Now Thunderkiss and Mr. London, as winners of the annual ACW Lethal Lottery, I congratulate you both!

[Dan walks over to BK and extends his hand forward. BK looks down upon it and then folds his arms together, causing the crowd to pop BIG! Dan looks a bit embarrassed and very displeased at the lack of respect shown by BK London and angerly walks over to Thunderkiss where a handshake assuredly awaits!]

Dan White: And now gentlemen, the moment you have been waiting for! You worked hard and long and made it to the end, and now its time to reap your rewards!

2007 Lethal Lottery Champions!

[White grabs the sheet hiding the trophies and yanks it off the table. Flashbulbs pop and the ringside cameras zoom in onto two trophies and immediately shenanigans is called out! There is one large, super sized trophy worthy of such events like the Olympics, and one very small, two inch tall trophy that stands beside it.]

BK London slowly walks up towards the trophy on the table, towering over it by 3 feet and now stares at Thunderkiss' trophy which is standing tall over him. He picks up the small trophy and looks over at Dan White, and now a big smile comes over his face. Dan White breaks out in a smile as well, but quickly BK's face returns to a much serious/pissed expression and the crowd goes wild.

He wastes no time rushing the Commissioner, grabbing him by his collar and throws him in the corner.

BK London *shouting*: Is this your idea of some sort of joke? Am I supposed to be laughing? Am I supposed to be AMUSED?!

Dan White: We thought the trophies should be representational of the work put in by each man!

BK London: So, what your saying is I put little to no work in this match? Alright, well get this. How about I take this trophy and shove it straight up your..

[London has his back turned on TK and that will end up being a costly mistake! TK grabs his Lethal Lottery trophy off the table and holds it on his shoulder like a baseball bat, and then proceeds in London’s direction!]

Maxwell McNally: BK, look out!

~!~WHAM~!~

[From behind, Thunderkiss drives the giant trophy’s wooden base directly into the back of BK London, instantly grounding him onto the mat. The sickening sound of wood being driven into BK’s back is so loud that the camera audio picks it up, causing most people watching at home to cringe in displeasure.]

Dan White: He put his hands on me! You’re not allowed to touch the Commmish’! What a complete lack of respect! Teach him some manners Kiss!

[Dan White backs up with a grin on his face and shouts out “AGAIN” to his Entourage stable mate! TK obliges and he lifts the entire trophy up into the air and cranks it down onto London’s head, causing it to shatter into pieces! Trophy is scattered all around the ring, BK London is now knocked out cold and the crowd is screaming in a panic ... what pandemonium!]

“Fast” Eddie Edison: We need some help out here right now or things quickly might take even a harsher turn for the worse!

[Thunderkiss looks down at BK London with that sick, sick look he gets in his eyes when you know he is going to cross the line and do something most men with a conscious will later regret. He bends down and grabs the unconscious BK by the neck and pulls his face directly in front of his ...]

Thunderkiss: Not so hot when you’re not beating up on tiny men like Jake Cheng all the time, are you Mr. London?! Tonight you got just a sample and you couldn't handle that! What’s going to happen at Heatwave when you get the whole thing!?!

[Thunderkiss drops BK back down to the mat and defiantly rises against the boos of the crowd. He then heads out of the ring with White behind him, his theme music blasting all way, declaring him the winner of this exchange. Back inside the ring, the cameras zoom in on BK London, who is now coming around. One has to wonder if he heard all of Thunderkiss’ words, and if so, how is the ACW legend going to respond?!]

[FADE]

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Party, All Night Long! (Credit: Ricky Falcon)

The scene opens with Ricky Falcon walking backstage with a big smile on his face after his big win. He has the Entertainment Championship sitting on his shoulder. He continues walking until he reaches ACW Interviewer Kevin Anderson.

Ricky: Did ya see that there? Huh? DID YA? I just beat, two contenders for this title just now. All those people who have doubted me can shove it! Look at me! I'm on fire!!

Kevin: Indeed, that was an impressive win here tonight, but what are your plans for the rest of the night?

Ricky: OH BOY! Tonight, we are gonna party! Everyone is invited, with the exception of you and Jonny Spade. Thats right folks, we are gonna party and celebrate my victory this past Saturday at Seven Deadly Sins and celebrate my victory here tonight!

Kevin: That sounds great-- hey wait a second. Why am I not invited?

Ricky: Because, I don't want you there. But while we are here, do you have a cell phone?

Kevin nods then reaches into his back pocket and grabs a cell phone and hands it to Ricky.

Ricky: Thanks, this will just take a second.

Ricky starts texting madly on the phone. Kevin starts to look worried at what this might cost him. Shortly after, he starts dialing numbers and puts the phone up to his ear.

Ricky: Yeah, hi, its me. Yeah...no I won. Thats right 1, 2, 3 baby. Hey listen I'm having a party and I want you to come. Yeah, bring her too and her family. Yeah later tonight. Invite everyone, alright, later.

Ricky tosses the phone back to Kevin who almost doesn't catch it. Then Glen Ripley, with a smile, and his two body guards walk up to Ricky.

Glen: Haha! Great job, boy. I see that losing in the Lethal Lottery has not damaged your spirits. You were great out there tonight. And this party is going to be great as well. And I have done the best I can to prevent Jonny Spade from ruining this truly special night.

Ricky: Alright, that sounds great to me. But I have to go take a shower and get ready for the party. I need to invite some more people also. So I'll see you later then?

Glen: Yeah, see you later.

Ricky walks off while the camera zooms in on Glen, till the camera fades out.

Fade to BARREL ROLL!

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

The Dead Theory (Part 2. Credit: Lambert)
I’ve regained conscious and there’s frantic yelling, a woman and a man screaming at each other but it’s too fuzzy so I can’t make out what they’re yelling about, I feel good now though, still totally drained, I find myself trying to push myself up off the floor when suddenly there’s footsteps and 2 people grab my arms. What is going on?!

“He’s still alive! OK listen, we need to wheel him off to A&E, this is going to be tough but he’ll survive it”

“I don’t think you ought to be so confident Michelle, the guy got wrecked in that accident and you cut his torso open preparing for autopsy!”

And these words are being played over in my mind, accidents, torso, what do these all mean? I hate this whole idea as my stomach feels like it’s about to fall out of the gash on my gut, as I’m slowly hoisted onto this bed. Then it feels like I’m moving as I’m dropped softly onto bed, and the bed seems to move as I’m rushed a cross the corridors with people swearing and shouting at this Michelle person.

The stretcher is rolling across the corridor still as I decide to open my eyes, the light burns my eyes but soon I get used to it, when my vision corrects itself, I look at my surroundings, I see that I’m on a stretcher, I see the gash in my gut and I begin to shiver, and then I see the gashes in my arms. I’m worried to Death now, what happened?

Now I look in front of me to see this Michelle person, a middle-sized, good looking woman, mid to late 20’s, red head, very busty. She looks at me and a smile spreads right across her face as she sees my eyes are open, I look back at her and smile too, but I feel a strange sensation dripping down my mouth, not saliva… I use my finger to wipe up and then look at it…. Blood.

“GAAAH JEEEESUSS!” I scream, not knowing what happened to me is so painful and this blood is horrible, but yet I can’t feel any pain except for the headaches, Michelle is muttering some crap trying to sooth me down and even though I can’t exactly make out what she’s saying, it does calm me down, she has a soft, angelic voice and slowly but surely the panic begins to die down. I start to listen to what the girl is saying and although I’m a bit hard hearing I managed to get some of it.

“---- you ---- involved -- - ----- car crash Mr. -------, -- thought you were dead, -- -- were ------ to perform -- autopsy-- --- morgue but you ---- up ---- as I --- about -- start” is what I can make out.

I open my mouth to speak but it’s hard as my voice is painful and oh so very dry, I go to open my mouth but it’s painful, eventually I take in enough breath and drink my own saliva to say “Where am I?!”

“You’re -- the hospital, you ---- involved - car crash”

As Michelle continues to wheel along, we eventually spear through a couple of doors, I look around to see a surgery room and I instantly get worried, I soon white out again as I’m slid into the middle of the room…

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Mercy (Credit: Michael)

Blackness.

"If you're reading this, stop now. Go out and have an evening of fun with your friends. Spend some time with your family. Cuddle up next to your significant other. This isn't the kind of thing you want to be stuck doing. This is not a happy story, this isn't some grand epic. This is the tale of some miserable little prick, some pathetic ex-junkie alcoholic who's hit the bottom."

The screen fades up to an image of a thick, leatherbound book, the yellowing pages looking centuries old, with a hand holding a fountain pen tracing cautious and ornate letting on the page.

"And this snivelling, washed up has-been, he's sitting right now, staring at the amber liquid in the bottom of yet another bottle, staring at it and getting the illusion that he's having profound thoughts. This is a story of a man who went from one outlandish gimmick to another, from one violent episode to the next without fail. And this musclebound twit, he reflects back on his career and actually has the audacity to think he was an entertainer. He sits around, eschewing how he used to be at the top of the world because he gave the people something to talk about, and somehow that would be a lasting impression. And, for a moment, he feels that chill up his spine. The one where he's forcing the truth out of his deluded, self-assuring mind. That he was just the flavor of the month."

The hand with the pen stops writing, setting it down as the other hand crosses over the page, grabbing the first and wringing it with a solid yet slow motion. The fingers spread and the hand shakes, knocking away writer's cramps as the hand picks back up the fountain pen and resumes writing.

"If you're still reading this, don't. Seriously, go outside and get some fresh air. Go enjoy a movie. Something. Because if you're looking to be entertained, it won't happen here. This is like listening to a man with a crippled hand play flamenco guitar. It's just not going to happen. What you'd see if you didn't have the good sense and self-preservation to turn away from this page is a failure. A man who took a stab at telling a story, a narcissistically dubbed ‘epic.’ An epic flop. A man who knew his time was short, like a pet caught in a house fire- slinking back into the corner away from the flames, trying to buy every last second, even though it's trapped. It's over for him, he just didn't know it. This grand, epic tale played out very simply. It was a story of karma."

The pen is pulled to the side of the frame, dipping into an ink well before returning to the yellowed pages.

"It was the payback on this big colossal joke of a man. There was no drama here. This was a bad man, the kind of man everyone hated. The real motherfucker that everyone watches walking down the street, praying that he'll step off a curb too quickly when a bus is coming. The kind of guy who makes terminal cancer sound like a good thing. And as he set out on his little journey to create this tale, the cosmos aligned, the threads of fate were plucked, and the world got its revenge. He started well enough, just enough to give him that false sense of hope. After all, it's not really good seeing the villain get his just deserts without really grinding the stone into him. Then it started: he'd face challenges and fail. So he stepped back and figured he was overshooting himself. He scaled down to a lesser challenge. And again he failed. So he receded again and again, each time backsliding, each time finding himself more inept, more the loser. It was like watching a marathon runner losing the Olympics, then coming in last in a charity 10k, then forgetting how to walk altogether. And the world smiled as this lonely, pathetic waste of a man got what was coming to him."

The pen writes more slowly, with a deliberate and steady stroke.

"They watched his failings, his fall, and cheered. And like that pet caught in a house fire, he couldn't muster up the fortitude to chance running out through the flames. He just slinked back into the corner, cowering, pissing the carpet one final time. The unceremonious end. If you're still reading, you're wasting your time. That part's already over. If you missed it, then shame on you. It really was worth seeing. After all, this septic piece of human sewage deserved it, and it's so satisfying seeing a true villain get completely destroyed in the most demeaning ways. No, now, this shadow of a man just sits in the dark, staring at the almost empty bottle and thinks he has an epiphany. He's thinking about his career and realizes that the bottle is his career. It's empty, useless, drank up. What's left isn't even enough to fill a shot glass, and still he swirls it around, nursing every last drop instead of throwing it out. His career- not the bottle."

The pen pauses for a second and we hear a heavy sigh as again the hand is wrung out, shaking off more pain.

"And as he looks at the bottle, he doesn't want it to be finished. He could always go pour some water in and give the illusion of it being fuller. But just like his career, it would just be watered down if he tried to stretch it out like that. He knows it's at the end. This putrid, rotten out loser needs to just muster up the last bit of his pride and finish it off in one gulp. And in that moment, he's no longer living under the veil that he needs to put on an epic match. That won't happen, he doesn't have it in him. Now, his time is on its last gulp. He just needs that one match- not to entertain, not to cement a legacy- but to put the nail in the coffin. To finish it all off, so that the rotten carcass of what he was can be thrown into the ground for good. He's the deer having been hit by a car that managed to limp off into the woods, and now he's lying on the cold earth, praying for a hunter to find him and deliver a bullet of mercy. He's not going to have the end he wants, and at this point, he'll be content to just get it over. Make sure your aim is straight. And be quick about it.

And now, all he can do is sit and wonder. Who will be the one to show him that mercy? Who will step forward and end this cruel joke of a career? He's in the dark, peering around, waiting. He can hear their footsteps approach. He can see steam rising from their distant breath. Someone will end this all, but he's eager to see just who will do it.

Try to make it as painless as you can.

And tell all the people I let down that I tried.

I'm ready."

The hand stops writing, the pen setting down on the inside spine of the book. pushing back away from it, we see now in the frame Nick Durden, staring at the writing. He brings both hands to his face, rubbing his fingertips in a broad sweep from his forehead over his eyes and down his cheeks on either side of his mouth. With another heavy sigh, he pushes away from the writing table and gets up, walking off frame as the camera fades back to black.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: Old Worlds/New Worlds (Credit: Scott)

Scott’s narrow defeat at Seven Deadly Sins was one he could not afford; not if he wanted his message to get across. Who’s going to take him seriously if he loses to everyone? Who’s going to listen to what a loser has to say? Nobody.

The loss has left him stunned, but not doubtful, nor has it hindered his will power. Scott’s a fighter. He may have suffered a few loses now and then, but he always comes back twice as hard when it really counts. He may have lost a title shot, a number one contendership, or whatever it was in that briefcase, but he gained a lot more than he lost. Every time Scott makes a mistake he learns from it. This is what makes him so dangerous in the ring. Even though he has faced Kudo many times, in victory or defeat he has always learned something new to help him from making the same mistake twice.

Throughout the following week Scott sought to train harder and get himself back into focus. Every time Scott gets knocked down he uses it as motivation to pull himself back onto his feet and hit back twice as hard. He has the fighters’ instinct and many people overlook that, especially in the past. His immature mannerisms and cocky attitude hid his true self from the rest of the roster, but it is his job now to see that his true self shines through in order to get where he wants to go. He still has the attitude, the temper, and the will to fight till the end, yet he is rid of his greed, his selfishness, and his deceitful tendencies. Will this change aid him or stop him in his tracks? Can one really succeed in this business without being a backstabbing, politically involved cancer in the hearts of those who give there all every night they go out to that ring and sacrifice for the people they entertain? Scott Andrews wants to be the one who does it. He wants to be the everyman, the honest worker, the one who can keep his dignity and conscious.

We all have to fight temptation, and in Scott’s case it’s going to be the temptation to go back to the way he was just over seven months ago. Can he hold back those urges when temptation comes lurking? All these questions can only be answered in time.

Scott walks the corridors; well, it’s more of a limp. The nasty fall he suffered at the PPV bruised his ribs severely and gave him a mild concussion amongst other minor injuries. He makes his way towards the water cooler; doctor said he should drink a lot of fluids. Why? I don’t know, I’m not a doctor.

He fills a paper cup and puts it to his mouth, guzzling down every last drop in one go. Scott then crushes the cup and tosses it into a nearby receptacle. He cracks his neck from side to side before turning and seeing Gingerdude himself standing before him. Scott frowns.

Gingerdude: I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? You don’t look happy to see me.

Scott: Look, I don’t like you, and I’m pretty sure you don’t like me, but you need to do something about Dan White running the show - - -

Gingerdude: I’m doing all I can, Scott, trust me. I want him gone and out of this company for good!

Scott: You didn’t let me finish, jackass. I never said anything about wanting him gone; I think he does some good for this company. I was going to say you should do something about him running the show alone. You two fighting and bickering really adds to the atmosphere around here. Plus it keeps me entertained.

Gingerdude: Well I’m glad you think it’s funny, Scott. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.

Gingerdude looks to be about to leave when Scott grabs his arm.

Scott: Whoa, whoa, whoa, little man…

Gingerdude: Little man?!

Scott: …you didn’t let me wish you good luck with the whole Dan White thing; give me a hug.

Ginerdude looks baffled as Scott grabs him and gives him a bear hug, his eyes bulging from their sockets as Scott squeezes him. He pats him on the back.

Scott: No need to thank me. Off ya’ go then.

Gingerdude looks at Scott completely surprised and puzzled at what the hell just happened. He shakes his head and walks off down the hallway, but as he turns, a piece of paper is stuck to his back that reads: “Kick Me”.

You gotta start off small, right?

FADE OUT.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 4: Nick Durden vs. Jake Cheng (Credit: Jake)

Durden takes the early lead in the match, taking Jake down from the start with an STO. Jake is kept down on the mat by several stomps and kicks by Durden. He bounces off the ropes behind him to build up speed to drop a knee on Jake’s head, but Jake rolls out of the way and Durden rolls the other way, trying not to put so much stress on the knee. The two opponents face off, circling the ring waiting for the opportune moment. Jake stops in one spot and holds up one hand in the air, challenging Durden to a test of strength. Durden can’t help from laughing at his smaller and lighter opponent, but eventually accepts. Durden’s hand extends to meet Jake’s hand, but once it comes in contact, Jake throws a low kick to Durden’s......knee. It makes a loud slap noise and Durden clutches his knee. The crowd boos loudly and Jake takes it all in and loves it.

Durden runs at Cheng, but Jake bring him down with a drop toe hold. And while Durden is down, Jake goes back to kicking Durden’s knee. Referee Carter Donovan makes Jake back up and Nick rises to his feet. Nick drops down to one knee in pain and Jake takes advantage, hitting a Shining Wizard on Nick. Durden goes down to the ground and isn’t moving. Jake takes a running jump onto the turnbuckle before Moonsaulting off of it onto....the mat. Durden has rolled out of the way and gotten to his feet. Jake cringes on the mat and Durden lifts Jake to his feet. Durden whips Jake against the ropes, but Jake grabs on for dear life. Durden decides to take matters into his own hands the clotheslines Jake over the top rope and he crashes to the mats outside the ring. Durden takes a couple steps back and waits for Jake to rise to his feet before diving over to top rope and using his entire body as a weapon.

Both men crash to the mat. Durden clutches his knee again on the ground as Jake holds his head as he rises to his feet. He grabs Durden’s hair and get him halfway standing before throwing him into the steel ring steps. It takes him some time to get Durden to stay up on his knees, but once he does, Jake is perfectly set up to hit the Second Heartbeat. Too bad the match is over.

Bell Rings

Philip: This match will result in a tie due to Double Count Out!

The crowd boos loudly and Jake flips his shit. Durden is still a bit dazed, but he smiles, knowing that he was at the disadvantage. Jake looks at Durden smiles and that definitely doesn’t make him any happier. Jake hits the Second Heartbeat anyway. The crowd boos as Durden falls limp to the mat. Jake just stares at him and walks up the ramp. Neither of them are happy at this: Jake was screwed out of the win and Nick got kicked in the head for no reason. This isn’t the end.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: A meeting of minds (Credit: Echo/AK)

Monday, 9.30pm

The evening air is warm, and the sun just dipping below the horizon, as Alicia Laureano walks along the narrow sidewalk. The street is starting to come to life, with cars cruising, tops down or windows open, and a dozen different sources of sound and music mingling with the chatter of passers-by.

Alicia feels just a fraction exposed, walking without her husband beside her; it’s been a little while since they came to this part of town. The crack of pool balls reverberates as she passes by one bar; a small group of youngish guys make an effort to grab her attention, but she just smiles and turns her left hand so that the light catches her ring whilst being confident enough to make eye contact. The guys shrug, and go back to discussing matters of world importance, such as just how many bottles of beer you can drink before your blood officially becomes classified as an alcoholic liquid in its own right.

She almost misses the steps down to the venue; she checks the name she scribbled on a scrap of paper from Echo’s answerphone message, and descends. She is pleased to discover that her hunch was correct, and her smart black pants and cropped shirt with a flourish of purple around the hems blends in nicely with the sophisticated, mildly gothic vibe of the rest of the patrons. The sound system is well pitched, too, and is playing classical music with an attractively melancholy touch at a volume which makes conversation a pleasure rather than a battle.

Echo is sitting with her feet tucked up at a booth on one side of the room; she’s dressed pretty much as she always is outside of the ring, but Alicia still manages to almost walk past her. It’s probably the fact that there’s a man sitting opposite her at the table which at first throws Alicia way off.

She quickly replaces the look of surprise on her face with one of greeting. Echo, naturally, catches this, and moves directly to the necessary introductions.

Echo: Oh, hey. Sorry about the unexpected addition…this is Joachim, he‘s an associate of mine. ‘Chim, I want you to meet Alicia Laureano, we’re supposed to be meeting up tonight.

The newly-introduced gentleman stands respectfully, offering a nod in greeting. Amusingly enough, he’s prettier than Echo, with sleek, elegant features and (likely dyed) black hair stretching halfway down his back. Alicia studies him for a second, noting his dark-blue eyes roaming over her as well, and then nods back.

AK: Hi there. Am I intruding on anything?

Echo: Oh, no.

Echo shakes her head, and Joachim elaborates in a smooth baritone.

Joachim: Not at all. I believe I’m the one intruding, actually; she was on her way to come see you when I waylaid her.

His words draw a smile from Echo, the first one Alicia’s really seen out of her.

Echo: Heh. We’ve been separated for a while, and he only arrived in the area recently. This is actually the first time we’ve managed to get together around here.

Joachim: Yes. Do sit down, by all means.

He resumes his spot at the table, and AK looks from Echo’s side to Joachim’s, then back. The two watch intently, waiting to see who she’ll sit down next to…and seconds later, she defies expectations as always by grabbing a chair and stationing herself at the end, in “neutral territory” between the pair. A brief flash of reactions trigger; Echo seems irritated for a split second, while Joachim smirks slightly, but by the time Alicia looks back to them, they’re back to being unreadable.

AK: So is this a normal hangout for you? It’s a nice place…pretty low-key. A lot of the places where our colleagues hang out are the kind where riot gear is more than a fashion statement.

Echo: It’s actually one of Joachim’s haunts. He knows the world outside of my apartment a lot better than I do.

Joachim: No difficult task, that. Fortunate you decided to work in the area, eh?

Echo flashes another smile at him.

Echo: Considering all the places you seem to be familiar with, I‘m not sure it‘d matter much…

At the end of the table, Alicia watches the exchange with interest. The dynamic between these two is something she hasn’t seen in a while, and one she almost hadn’t considered Echo capable of. She’s about to speak, when Joachim stands, adjusting the lapels of his suit, and excuses himself.

Joachim: I’ll get the drinks. Echo, the usual for you, I assume, and Ms. Laureano?

AK: “Mrs.”, actually.

The end of one lip curls in a grin, exposing a brief glimmer of extremely white teeth.

Joachim: Pity. I’ll get you one of Echo’s.

As he disappears down the aisle, AK turns and notices Echo watching their companion leave. She purses her lips, thinking of the best way to put it, and makes an educated guess.

AK: Soooo…… Bit more than an associate, huh?

The younger woman reddens slightly at the cheeks, and stammers for a second before coming up with an answer.

Echo: I….well. Yes. ‘Chim’s been with me for as long as I can remember…although that’s not saying much…and he’s kind of a benefactor, confidante, mentor, whatever. Aaaaand occasionally we might be involved. A little.

AK raises an eyebrow, and Echo relents with a sigh.

Echo: …All right, more than a little. But he’s not my boyfriend.

AK has to concentrate hard to prevent the visual representation of “yeah, right” appearing on her face.

AK: Ah.

A few seconds pass, in rather awkward silence.

Echo: He’s not.

AK relaxes into her seat; she has no intention of pursuing the subject into the realms of discomfort.

AK: All right, I believe you. Shame, though, you two seem to get on well. Better than you seem to interact with most people, at least.

Echo: We do, but I’m used to him, and when he‘s around I feel comfortable. Strangers, not so much so.

AK: Oh? Am I a stranger?

Echo: Of course not. I wouldn’t have invited you out otherwise.

Their banter is interrupted as Joachim returns, tray of glasses in hand, and sets it down on the table before re-assuming his seat. He passes the two identical glasses to Alicia and Echo and takes the long-stemmed wineglass for himself.

Joachim: Miss me?

Echo: You’re paying, so of course I did. Here’s to you.

Echo drinks heavily from her glass, obviously savoring it, while Alicia looks with trepidation at hers. It’s dark, and bubbly, but that’s not much comfort, and with the way Echo acts (and fights), AK has a fairly good idea of the kind of things she probably drinks. The last time she entered that sort of territory on a particularly lively night out, she remembers waking up spreadeagled across one of the bronze lions in Trafalgar Square, crowned with the obligatory traffic cone and missing her shoes.

After a few seconds, Echo puts the cup down, sighing contentedly.

Echo: Now that hits the spot.

AK: Glad to hear. What is it?

Echo: Diet Coke.

AK: ….Oh.

She takes a sip, and lo and behold, it is. A brief smile escapes Alicia, though it’s chased away by necessity as she indulges herself with the glass again.

Joachim: She doesn’t drink often, if that’s what you’re wondering. Echo here doesn’t have terribly many vices; probably a side effect of being uninteresting.

Echo: If I weren’t worried about causing collateral damage to Alicia, I’d kick you under the table.

Despite the hostility of their words, the grins that pass between the pair leave the mind without much impression of actual dislike. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Echo: But no, I don’t drink much. When I do, I usually end up regretting it.

Joachim: I don’t.

Echo: You wouldn’t.

AK smiles, and rests her chin on one upturned hand. She’s strangely pleased to see that Echo has at least one good friend, even if he does have a touch of the Casanovas about him. Echo, meanwhile, is conscious of not allowing her companion to monopolise the evening.

Echo: Ok, moving on… (she shoots Joachim a glance; he stretches and adopts a slightly more passive demeanor)….tell me, how long have you been involved in the professional wrestling scene?

AK taps her fingers on the desk.

AK: Three years in ACW so far. Before that, I had some training and a few less-than –distinguished matches for small, local federations, as a sort of steam-letting exercise. To tell the truth, this only became my career out of a chance encounter with Ginger. Before that I was drifting through a succession of temporary engineering jobs, looking for something permanent. I still think I could have made quite a decent career out of it… I’ve always liked building things, designing them, working out what makes them go, or what makes them strong, or beautiful. I’d never want to trade my life now for anything else, though, even if it can be mentally and physically hazardous some of the time.

She allows herself a wry smile, and out of the corner of her eye she becomes aware that Joachim is looking directly at her, barely even seeming to blink. It’s not exactly a “stalker stare”, but she can tell that she has his complete attention. Her internal reaction is one of curiosity… but she pushes it aside for now, and instead looks at Echo, sipping her coke once again.

AK: So what about you? I’ve only seen a little of your work but a couple of the crew are fans of yours, I overheard them talking about your MMA matches in Japan. How did you get into that whole scene?

Echo: Not really sure why anybody in the “real world” would’ve followed my career. Our gender doesn’t get much exposure in the business, and when you have to import tapes to see it, I can’t really envision anybody bothering that much.

Joachim: Perhaps their tastes lean to the exotic. Mine certainly do.

This gets a reluctant smile from Echo, who offers him a hand. Joachim takes it in one of his, keeping a grip on the wine glass with the other, and pecks her once on the knuckle as she continues.

Echo: ‘Chim, if I remember right, it was actually your idea.

Joachim: Mm.

Echo: We moved to Kyoto pretty soon after…well, after we met, and I started working the independents around there. Not too big a market for women, as I said, and it was pretty gritty out there. Somehow, between Joachim’s financing and the admittedly meager cash I was pulling down from this, we kept things together…hell, they were improving by the time I moved out and started looking into pro wrestling. It was touch and go for a while, though, and things looked pretty rough once or twice.

Joachim: Up to your eyes in yakuza, as I recall.

Echo: Yeah. They’re about elbow-deep in combat sports over there. You get used to it, though; usually, you don’t bother them and they don’t bother you. I was a gaijin, after all, so I escaped notice mostly.

She withdraws her hand from Joachim’s grasp and uses both to pick up her drink, taking another sip as if the recollections had stressed her somehow. AK takes advantage of the silence and responds.

AK: Wow. I have nothing but respect for anyone who can take on that sort of challenge. It’s a world away from the glitzy sort of thing we do on the Western pro wrestling circuit. But I confess I’ve always loved the entertainment side of the business, probably ever since they used to show the old WWF and World of Sport matches at teatime on weekends in the early 80s. Did you ever get into that stuff when you were a girl?

Echo: Uh, well, no. That is, I…

Her speech is oddly hesitant. AK wonders if she’s inadvertently trespassed on to some sort of minefield, but rather than looking sad or hurt, instead Echo glances to either side, and then to Joachim as if for reassurance. He simply inclines his head slightly, and Echo turns back to look at AK once again.

Echo: This is going to sound really strange.

AK: Try me.

Echo looks down at the table, clearly embarrassed.

Echo: The truth is…that I don’t know what I used to like or not like when I was young, I mean young as in being a kid.

She plays with her now empty glass, passing it from hand to hand with absent-minded dexterity. This is obviously not an easy subject for her to broach.

Echo: My memories aren’t as good as they should be. There are whole parts of my life where I can’t remember very much at all… it’s some form of amnesia, I guess. I must’ve gotten hit on the head or something, at some point, but it’s messed up everything.

AK: Jeez… that must be tough to deal with.

She winces a little at her words.

AK: Sorry, that must sound incredibly trite. I don’t really know what to say to that. Have you consulted the medical profession about it?

Echo frowns wistfully.

Echo: I did once, briefly, about the amnesia thing…and I see a psychiatrist twice a month about my bipolarity, but those kinds of people are only interested if you’re sick, and when it comes to my memories, I‘m not. At least, not in the classical sense. It’s something else. I don’t know what, but it is something.

AK detects the strength of feeling behind Echo’s words. She gets the distinct impression that there is more that Echo is not letting on, but she senses that for Echo to even reveal that much to anyone is a rare event. She almost puts her hand out to touch Echo’s, but instinct tells her that it’s too soon for such a step. Instead, she just makes firm eye contact.

AK: You’ll find out the answer in time, I’m sure of it. Listen…

She inhales a little deeper before continuing.

AK: I’m really not an expert in anything of this kind, but I do believe that it’s possible to lose sight of the present by dwelling too much on the past. You’re here now, and you’re a part of ACW, and a very welcome part at that.

The sincere moment lasts for a couple of seconds before AK comprehends just how far into Ricky Lake territory she’s ploughed, and smiles apologetically.

AK: ….Sorry, that was pretty cheesy.

Her gaze wanders momentarily, and she catches sight of Joachim nodding with a hint of a smirk. She flicks her gaze back to Echo; communication passes wordlessly, and AK lifts her feet clear of the floor a split second before Echo stomps on Joachim’s foot beneath the table.

Joachim’s eyebrows elevate a little at the blow, but otherwise he remains perfectly composed; Echo gives him a daring glance, and Joachim smiles, more fully now and with something much more akin to affection, looking at both ladies together. All three laugh spontaneously; their understanding of one another has advanced by a small but significant step.

Echo: See, ‘Chim, I told you this time it would be different.

Joachim: First time for everything, I suppose.

The slightly cryptic nature of their exchange enters AK’s head, but exits it just as quickly as Echo picks up the glasses.

Echo: I’ll get the next round. Same again, I assume.

Echo disengages from the table, soon-to-be-refilled drinks in tow, and leaves her two companions briefly staring after her until their attention wanders back to the present.

AK: She’s…certainly something else, isn’t she?

A chuckle escapes Joachim’s mouth as he rests his chin on his interlaced fingers. His voice, as always, is melodious and decidedly pleasing to the ear.

It may be just the slightest bit difficult, in light of that, to notice that the laugh itself is not.

Joachim: Oh, you have no idea.

Fade.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: It IS A Nice Hat (Credit: Yoko)

The door to the Senatorial Stable locker room.

Yoko is standing in front of it, croquet mallet in hand. She has it all figured out in her head.

Push the door in. Run into the room and hit Senator with a flying knee and take out the bulk of the stable before they even know what’s happened. Uppercut Rattlesnake with my mallet. Corner Sarin, who will be alone now. And then…

I can’t. That isn’t me anymore, I’ve learned from my past mistakes. Ridley isn’t leading me, Mr. Floppy isn’t leading me, I’M leading myself.

But…

She broke my trust, and behind my back no less. Maybe if I just scare her…or rough her up a little…

She places her hand on the door and breathes in.

No. She…She made her choice. That’s the end of it.

Yoko removes her hand from the door and walks away, still unsure of whether she’s making the right choice.

Deep in thought, she unknowingly takes a wrong turn back to her locker room and ends up in the corridor with the broken light. The darkness once signaled the entrance to Pain Inc’s Demon Pit, a room Yoko was once very familiar with. Afterwards, it was refurbished into Mercer Stanton’s personal office, another room Yoko was unfortunately familiar with. Cold chills jump over her body as she steps into the lightless part of the hall, and the memories come rushing back. Ridley and Rose. Orochi. Kross. Mr. Floppy. Jade. RDK. Stanton. Sarin. Yoko has rarely been alone in her ACW career, whether she was with a friend, a potential lover, or just being used. But some way, she’s always destroyed every close relationship she’s had.

The cold chills don’t retreat when she reaches the light again, and she shivers. She then lets go of her croquet mallet and drops to her knees as it clanks on the floor. Yoko pulls the white cowboy hat off of her head and just looks at it. She buries her face in it, crying.

??: Lovely hat you’ve got.

Startled, Yoko hops up and turns to see…Umeko Saito. The crying quickly ends as she drops the hat to the floor and picks her croquet mallet back up, unsure of why Umeko is even here.

Umeko: But I don’t think you should get it wet, it may ruin the material.

Yoko: What…what do you want?

Umeko has a hint of a smile but quickly hides it.

Umeko: I seem to recall a certain event a little over a year ago…Do you?

Yoko doesn’t answer.

Umeko: I warned you that a specific someone was using you to advance her career. That once you could carry her no longer, she would move on to someone else who could get her further.

Yoko: Sarin would never-

Umeko: “Sarin would never do that, we love each other!” Do you remember saying that last year too?

Yoko: But-

Umeko: And what happened after your undefeated tag title reign and you got hospitalized? You two didn’t resume tag teaming. You went into singles’ competition, something of no use to her.

Yoko: …And then she left me. You were r-

Umeko: I know a snake from a mile away, Yoko. I was trying to tell you before it was too late.

Yoko: If I had listened then, then…

Umeko: Don’t trouble yourself over the past. The important thing is that you have to move on. But to do that, you have to sever your last tie with her.

Yoko frowns heavily.

Yoko: You mean…kill her? Never. That might be something you’re accustomed to, but that ISN’T me.

Umeko: Nonono. Definitely not. That isn’t what I was suggesting at all. I meant the hat, Yoko. The hat.

Umeko throws a small object at Yoko, which she catches. It’s a lighter.

Umeko: If you destroy the hat she bought for him, it will help you tremendously. It weighs you down with memories of her and the incident.

Yoko flips it open and the flame ignites. She looks down at the hat, yet doesn’t drop the lighter.

Yoko: But this is the only thing of hers that I have. It’s all I have to remember her by…

Umeko: That’s precisely my point, Yoko. You don’t need it or the memories. Without it, you’ll be free.

Yoko is extremely reluctant to destroy it, but before she realizes it, the lighter has dropped from her hand and into the upturned hat. She gasps and reaches down to pull it out, but it’s too late. The hat is on fire. All she can do is watch.

Umeko: If you’re willing to let bygones be bygones, Yoko, I’m willing to be your friend in your time of need.

Too captivated by the fire to speak, Yoko slowly nods.

A wicked smile spreads over Umeko’s face unbeknownst to Yoko.

End Segment.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Match 5: Adrian Flamingo vs. Alicia Laureano (Credit: BK)

As the bell sounds for the match to begin, Alicia Laureano and Adrian Flamingo begin circling the ring before locking up in a very aggressive collar-elbow tie up. Although Alicia knows fully well she doesn't have the strength advantage in this, she manages to quickly latch in a side headlock which manages to bring Flamingo down to one knee. Flamingo slowly steps backwards before bouncing off the ropes and pushing Alicia across the ring and takes her down with a shoulder block to the dismay of the fans in attendance. He bounces off the ropes and now Alicia rolls onto her stomach whcih prompts the former flamboyant figure to hop over him, and as he does Alicia manages to grab the ankle. Flamingo drops face first on the mat, but can feel Alicia about to latch in the Catch 22 and quickly makes his way over to the ropes. Referee Keiji Makabe backs up Alicia, creating some distance between the two, and now Flamingo uses this opportunity to slowly make his way back up to his feet while he re-thinks his strategy. Once things cool down just a bit, Alicia and Flamingo lock up again in the center of the ring and now Flamingo wastes no time aggressively pushing the former ACW Heavyweight Champion back in the corner. Once again, Keiji finds himself trying to chisel the two apart, and he manages to create some distance but shortly after Flamingo blows past him and begins working over Alicia with stiff forearms to the face before whipping her across the ring.

Flamingo looks to follow up with a clothesline to a Alicia in the corner, but luckily the quick Kitsune manages to slip through the ropes to the apron. Flamingo lands sternum first in the corner and staggers backwards and Alicia climbs up to the top rope like a cat. Flamingo rises back up to a vertical base and as he looks up he sees Alicia dive off the top rope with a Crossbody Takedown but Flamingo manages to catch her in his arms. Flamingo walks around, holding Alicia in his arms and the crowd boos him fiercely. Flamingo swings her around and manages to latch in the 1981 Flamingo Special, but quickly Alicia manages to free herself from the move and she lands a Enziguri to the back of his head. Flamingo drops down to one knee, and now Alicia rises up, bounces off the ropes, and scores with a dropkick to the face of Flamingo. Flamingo is down for the count and now Alicia makes the first cover of the match.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
KICK OUT!

Flamingo manages to get his shoulder up just a bit before Makabe's arm comes down for the three, and now Alicia picks him up by his hair and kicks him in the abdomen. She looks to land the Acid Drop, but before she can even scale the turnbuckles he is pushed viciously into the turnbuckle. Alicia lands jaw first against the top turnbuckle before ricocheting off and falling right back into Flamingo's clutches. Flamingo delivers a huge Inverted Suplex to Ms. Laureano, which knocks her out for a loop. Flamingo rolls her on her back and hooks both legs, confident in the win right here.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
TH-KICK OUT!

Alicia manages to get her shoulder up just as Flamingo did earlier, and now the most anticipated superstar for 2007 is becoming a bit frustrated he hasn't been able to put her away yet. Flamingo picks up Alicia and plants her in the middle of the ring with a Scoop Slam. He now looks for the Flamingo Splash, but Alicia gets her knees up quickly and they are driven right into the back of Flamingo. Alicia looks for this oppotunity to recover from the onslaught of offense by her challenger while Flamingo is rolling around the ring in undeniable pain. Slowly Alicia begins to rise up and so does Flamingo. She takes him back down with a Spinning Wheel Kick and once he gets up, she delivers another. The momentum is definitely on Alicia's side as when he gets up for the third time she whips him into the corner. She looks to strike him with a clothesline but Flamingo manages to drop toe hold her face first into the middle turnbuckle. Wasting no time as Alicia sinks in the corner, Flamingo bounces off the opposing rope before delivering the ADH.Knee. He pulls Alicia to the center of the ring and stacks her up in a very sexual looking pin, and counts along with the referee.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE-KICK OUT!

Alicia manages to shoot her arm/shoulder up from the mat at the last possible second and now Flamingo looks as if he's going to pull his hair out. He grabs Alicia and sets her up for a powerbomb, but Alicia manages to counter it into a Sit-Out Facebuster. The crowd goes absolutely wild and the exhausted Alicia slowly pulls Flamingo towards the corner before ascending to the top rope. She makes her way to the top and looks for the 450 Splash, btu quickly Flamingo rolls out the way. Luckily, thinking extremely quickly on her feet she manages to land...well on her feet, but in the process, jams her knee. She holds her knee in pain and quickly Flamingo wastes no time driving her into the mat with the 1979 Flamingo Special. Keiji slides over and makes the count, and it's simply academic.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!

*The Bell Rings*

Phillip: And the winner of this match, Adrian Flamingo!

The crowd is rightly impressed with Flamingo’s performance; his recent change of attitude certainly seems to be taking him to all the right places. Alicia looks miffed for a few seconds, but she is brave enough to admit that she was simply out-classed on this occasion, and gives her opponent a respectful nod before making her exit. Inwardly, she feels that getting through this match is another small step forward, and there is a quiet smile on her face as she leaves, allowing Flamingo the proper stage on which to celebrate his win as the show cuts to its final break.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

The Dead Theory (Part 3) (Finale) (Credit: Ross Lambert)

My consciousness has returned, I can feel a horrific pain in my stomach, I’m physically drained as I open my eyes, the light burns my eyes again, as I can hear nothing but quiet, I am starving hungry too, I’m in so much pain I can’t even see straight, when suddenly someone says to me in a calm voice.

“Ross? Are you alright…?”, this man sounds about mid-40’s with a very deep voice, soothing voice. I open my eyes again and slowly my vision straightens out, I see 3 people around me, I see Michelle the nurse who nearly killed me, a doctor with cool corn rows and a doctor with long grey hair and glasses. The man with the grey hair speaks “Ross? Make some sort of sign if you’re conscious…”

Using all my energy I sit up, slowly but surely the pain is piercing all over my body, I can’t feel my legs either but I can feel all the stitches in my body and it feels horrible, I look around at these 3 doctors, my throat is really hurting right now when I say to them.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ve been in a car crash… Mr. Lambert, and nearly cut open fatally”, says the man with corn rows.

“And where am I?

“The Hospital” says the old guy, “You’ve came from the morgue” he added.

“I was presumed dead?”

“Well man, your heart stopped beating…” the cornrows man says.

“Or maybe the machine botched and it thought I was dead?” I say, my throat forcing out every dry word.

“Exactly, Mr. Lambert” says the old man.

”Indeed man, we’re so sorry about this…” the cornrows man sighs.

“How long will it be before you can get back to ACW?” I say.

“You might not be able too…” says the woman.

“WHAAAAT?!” I scream hoarsely.

“We think this could be the end of your career” says the cornrows doctor.

Suddenly, my face contorts with rage and I lurch forward in an attempt to grab throat but I soon fall on my back and white out in anger as I droop off to my sleep and fade again into darkness.

[Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune]

Segment: A Celebration I Say! </ededdneddy'd> (Credit: Ricky Falcon)

The scene opens in the ACW Arena. The camera pans around the fans who are waving at the camera and holding up their signs. When the ring is finally shown, it has a different look to it. Balloons are tied to the turnbuckles and red carpet has been set in the ring. The fans know what this is about and some boo. Just then, "Animal" by Mudmen plays over the arena, to even more boos. Shortly after, a convertible emerges from the backstage area. In the car are Glen Ripley, and his two bodyguards and standing up is Ricky Falcon with the Entertainment Title over his shoulder. As the car drives down to the ring, explosions engulf the stage. Ricky waves to the crowd who mostly doesn't care, but a few fans wave back. More people walk down to the ring as well. Ricky has a big smile on his face as he exits the car and enters the ring. He grabs a microphone then his music stops.

Crowd: BOOOOO!!!!!

Ricky: I just have to say, thats its an honor to be carrying this Entertainment Championship around. I know that I will bring this title justice. And before the party really starts, lets take a look at all the great Entertainment Champions before me. Please turn your attention to the Alphatron.

The fans and camera look up at the Alphatron. A big while piece of paper appears that says "Great Entertainment Champions." The fans expect to see names like, BK London, Wyvern, Jonny Spade as well as many others. But then the words "None, Until Now" appear. The crowd boos this lack of respect.

Ricky: That’s right. There have been no great Entertainment Champions until now. Ricky Falcon is the greatest thing to happen to this company and this belt. And I have heard many people call my title win a fluke and I'm just holding it for now. And yes, I have heard the stories. I know that August is the month where many people have lost this belt. But not me. I already proved earlier tonight that I'm not a fluke that I will be the greatest champion ever. And to prove that I will take on all challengers, because I am just that good. But enough about me, LETS PARTY!!

Random music starts to play as people outside the ring dance, in the crowd and most importantly, in the ring. Ricky starts breaking dancing, Glen starts doing the robot. Even the two silent body guards start getting their groove on. Ricky invites more people into the ring from the crowd. Now, little kids are dancing outside the ring. Balloons fall from the ceiling, along with confetti. Then the party is interrupted by the sound of "The End has Come" By Ben Moody. Immediately, Ricky stops dancing and stares at the ramp. The people in the crowd go back to their seats but a masked man from behind taps Ricky on the shoulder. Ricky turns around and yells "FALCON PUNCH!!!!!" and punches the man right in the chest. The man goes flying out of the ring and his mask falls off to show, just a common fan. Ricky looks puzzled but smiles then is about to start dancing again when from under the ring, another man comes in and starts attacking the body guards. Ricky tries to hit the man but gets a right hand of his own. Ricky retreats with Glen to avoid further punishment. The man shows his face and it is Jonny Spade who tried the attack. He yells, "I'm coming for you, Ricky!" Ricky looks worried and holds his title close to him and yells, "Your never gonna get this!" Then, one of the body guards tries to get revenge on Jonny, but Jonny seems to have eyes in the back of his head and dodges the body guards blow and grabs him, then does the Silver Spade, sending him crashing to the mat. Jonny points at Ricky while "The End has Come" By Ben Moody plays over the arena till the show fades to a “You are NOT a wrestler, Dingbat!” commercial.

Fade to black.