Thursday Night Meltdown July 10th 2008

[BK London]

Segment: Club Indigo

(Credit: Scott/Steele/Mr. Red)

Jake has picked Scott up and brought him to the place he told him about earlier. It’s a flash looking place; a club and a bar, flashing lights, music...girls. Along the top of the building, in blue neon lights reads "Club Indigo". Scott hesitantly gets out of the car and makes his way towards the entrance with Steele.

Scott: I thought we we’re going to a pub, y’know, a manly drinking hole?

Steele: Come on! Ain't no bitches at a "pub", what? You scared of da' pussy?

Scott rolls his eyes and the pair approach the bouncers.

Bouncer: Jake, my man.

The pair are waved on in by the bouncer; Jake obviously a VIP here. They enter, and upon stepping foot in the club Scott bears witness to a scene from his distant past; a club full of alcohol and girls. He gets the jitters and goes to sit down at the bar. Jake follows him and orders the pair a drink.

Steele: Let me get two of ya' finest Long Island Ice Teas...

The barman whips the drinks up in a flash, and it isn’t long until a couple of smoking hot ladies approach the two ACW stars; one blond, one brunette with streaks of red.

Girl #1: I recognize you from the tv. You’re wrestlers aren’t you?

Steele: Nah nah, you got us all twisted! We not just wrestlers, we are the BEST wrestlers you could ever meet in ya' lifetime baby!

Girl #2: Mind if we sit here with you?

Scott: Go ahead...I guess...

Jake and the blonde bombshell begin to spark up a conversation while Scott and the hot brunette sit awkwardly in silence.

Scott: So...you come here often?

Girl #2: All the time. I come here looking for men to take home and fuck.

Scott: Ok...? Umm, I...you can’t take me home. I have a girlfriend.

Girl# 2: Is she here, hot stuff?

Scott: Well...no, no she’s not, she’s back at the hotel.

Girl #2: Well then, there’s no reason I can’t get cosy with you.

Steele: Here’s another drink, on me like always my man.

Scott looks down at the glass and notices how small it is.

Scott: It’s a shot. What is it?

Steele: Aye! Stop. Fuckin'. Questionin' shit and take dat' to da' head muthafucka'. It'll free ya' up.

Scott:[/color] Ok, here goes.

Scott downs the shot in one go before a sour look crosses his face. The entire room goes into a daze for Scott, but he shakes the disgusting after taste and quick dizziness away and signals for another.

Scott:[/color] Two more, Jake. One for each of us.

Jake smiles and nods before requesting two more.

The camera pans to the right to reveal a very displeased Mr. Red sitting in a booth by himself, cracking his knuckles and looking on towards the other two.

Mr. Red: Why do those guys get all the ladies? Hmm? Why do I sit here all alone while they get all the attention?! I’m a wrestler too y’know?!

He rises from his seat and begins to near the two others who are now beginning to become tipsy and are warming up to their lady friends. Red looks to be drunk as he moves unsteadily across the dark purple carpet and up the three small stairs to the bar.

Scott: Hey, Jake! Red’s here!

Jake turns only in time to see Red swing and hit Scott square in the nose.

Mr. Red: What about me?! What about Mr. Red?!

The ladies check on Andrews, cuddling him and checking on his nose as Red is quietly escorted out of the bar by security. Steele stands up and flaunts his power, yelling to the security as Red is being dragged away.

Steele: Yeah, and you betta' get yo Red ass da' fuck outta here! What you think dis is?... Nigga.

Jake looks around the club, as the people stop for a moment, before sitting back down and continuing partying. Jake looks over to Scott before sitting down, and looking across the seats at him.

Scott: Son of a bitch! Where is that bastard?! I’m gonna kick the holy shit out of him!

Steele: Chill nigga, he gone now. You ain't got time to worry 'bout him, tonight... da' old NBK Scott Andrews returns.

Scott nods. He is having a good time, surprisingly. Even getting hit in the nose doesn’t matter when you have a hot stranger coming onto you, free drinks, and time away from your partner. It takes him back to the old days, the good days; the free days. Scott loves Jessie, but he also loves complete freedom to do whatever he wants. Now, Jessie isn’t controlling, but obviously Scott can’t do certain things because of his devotion to her and their relationship. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with going out and having a few drinks with friends is there?

And what about Jake Steele? Having a lot of money and all the honeys is something Jake feels he needs to show off to even Scott Andrews. Is there an ulterior motive to this outing, or is Jake just trying to make friends?

And Mr. Red? Is jealousy boiling inside of him so deep he has to take it out on Scott. Will there be repercussions of this incident or will Scott shake it off as a drunken mishap?

Find out next time.

Fade Out.

[BK London]

Segment: Back and Better Than Ever (credit: Jonny Hughes)

After the annual post Omega Effect two week break the entire ACW crew and roster are raring to get back in the saddle and for one man in particular and that man is Jonny Hughes. Thus far 2008 haven’t been kind to ‘The Shooter’ although it started with great promise, as the start of the year rolled around Jonny Hughes had it all, he was the ACW Entertainment Champion, had won an Award at the Annual ACW Awards and had just main evented his first pay-per-view at Winter’s Discontent, everything was looking great for Jonny Hughes. But fate, it seems, had conspired against Hughes, in February Hughes lost the Entertainment Title to his rival Andrew Starr and things took a downward spiral from there as Hughes’ confidence seemed to take a huge blow and he racked up loss after loss, Hughes did manage to main event the Genocide PPV but many feel that he didn’t earn his title shot.

After a luckless losing streak in singles competition Hughes even turned his hand towards tag team wrestling with mixed success and after his team was eliminated from the ACW Tag Title Tournament Hughes vanished but has now return, no longer looking burnt out by the pressures of wrestling and tired of the jet setting lifestyle that accompanies it. Hughes is stood by with Kevin Anderson for an exclusive interview.

Kevin Anderson: Kevin Anderson here and I am here with an exclusive interview with former Entertainment champion ‘The Shooter’ Jonny Hughes.

The camera pans out to reveal the interviewee Jonny Hughes and his surroundings. Both Hughes and Anderson are sat on tall black director chairs inside the ACW ring, the arena is not lit by the harsh lighting everyone is used to seeing on the weekly broadcasts, instead there is a single spotlight illuminating the centre of ring where the interview is taking place. Hughes is not attired in his usual garb of a fine suit, shirt and shoes and is instead dressed in a pair of designer denim jeans and a tight fitting Affliction clothing t-shirt. Hughes is looking much trimmer than the last time we saw him in ACW and has grown some stubble.

Anderson: Well Jonny I must say that you’re looking great. I think it’s safe to assume that you’ve spending some time in the gym recently.

Hughes: Yes I have Kevin and as you can see it’s reaped its rewards. I am fitter, quicker and stronger than I’ve ever been both physically and mentally.[/color]

Anderson: Well you look great. So why did you request this interview?

Hughes: I asked for this time to make a statement. A statement of intent. You see this calendar year has not be great for yours truly, I started the year as Entertainment Champion and then I lost it all. I’ve sat by and watched newcomers pass me on that ladder to success I’ve sat idly by and watched people who have been here for a matter of months get title opportunities that were never extended to me and I’VE HAD ENOUGH!

This sudden change of tone almost scares Anderson out of his skin, he looks at Hughes in fear and pushes himself back in his chair, forcing it back a few inches in the process.

Anderson: I…uh-

Hughes: I’ve worked my ass off for this company for the last two years, traveling back and forth to the UK to promote the ACW events, giving interviews, appearing on talk shows, children’s TV shows everything. And what do I get in return, I get nothing. And why?

Anderson: Umm…I don’t know maybe….

Hughes: Because apparently I’m not marketable enough, apparently the name Jonny Hughes doesn’t sell merchandise. I’ve been told that people don’t identify with me because I use long words and shorter more complicated words. People want a wrestler to speak on their level so if I have to dumb down to make it in this business then so be it. I was asked to slim down because people want their champions to be perfect, not chubby as someone in management put it.

Anderson: If this makes you so angry then why do it?

Hughes’ demeanor switches instantly, he leans forward in his chair and curls his hands into tightly formed fists as if he was ready to strike Kevin Anderson at any moment.

Hughes: Why do I do it?! I do it because I love this business, back when I was a kid I used to dream about making it big, becoming World Champion and I will do anything within my power to make that dream become a reality so I worked hard at the gym to slim down and tone my body to perfection. I’ve even changed things inside the ring, working my slow paced technical style wasn’t getting me anywhere fast. So I’ve mixed it up, now I’ll hit harder and faster than ever before with new moves and a new mentality.

Anderson: Well I look forward to seeing you in action. Now you said you were here to make a statement of intent and now seems the best time to do so.

The camera seems to take this as his cue to take a close-up of Jonny Hughes who stares directly into the camera.

Hughes: For once Kevin you’re right. I am here to tell you all that by the end of the year I will have a championship wrapped firmly around my waist, in fact I can guarantee it. So ACW, get used to this face because you’re going to see a lot of it in the coming months.

And with that the scene fades to black and we move on with the rest of the ACW Meltdown broadcast.

Fade

[BK London]

“Wrong Turn”
Credit: Thunder Train, FSX & Thunderkiss

[Backstage an ambush awaits. Our newly crowned ACW champion has not had a moment to relax and he’d better get used to for the foreseeable future, or at least the next 10 minutes. Laying in wait for him is the Thunder Train, and with just two words, he accomplishes the first part of his mission.]

Thunder Train: Hey, you.

FSX: You can't possibly be talking to me, can you? I mean...I'm the champion now!! I've earned myself the right to be known by a damned name, haven't I?! I know you might be busy drifting in and out of a diabetes induced coma, but that's no excuse to be lazy!

Train: Whatever. Thunderkiss wants to see you.

FSX: Oh, right...your Thunder companion...well, whatever happened to please? Hmm? Manners!

Train: Momma never taught me how to say it. Come on, he’s agitated already and the last thing either of us wants is him more upset that he already is.

FSX: I guess you have a point...

[Thunder Train guides FSX though several snaking hallways until they approach FSX’s old hangout, the Senatorial Stable locker room. However, before X can reminisce about days of old, Train leads him to the next door down and gives him a look of caution. One twist and push later, they both enter a realm of despair and

Train: Boss, I found him.

Thunderkiss: Thank you, Train.

Train: Are you sure about this though? He’s kinda weird.

Thunderkiss: THANK YOU, Train.

[Train takes the hint and exits stage right. Now alone with Thunderkiss, ACW viewers become glued to their TV sets as they realize two men that contain not one ounce of sanity between them now occupy one small room. One could describe the situation as a train wreck involving fatalities, you simply just cannot look away.]

FSX: Finally, I've found myself the greatest deranged Wizard of this time! Now tell me, can I get some of those dandy slippers so I can teleport home? Or do I have to go on some adventure with innanimate objects first? Because I'll do it...

Thunderkiss: You do realize what you have now, don’t you?

FSX: Hmm...You mean aside from the good looks, the aspirations in life, and the whole...sanity..?

Thunderkiss: Always the funny man, you are. What you fail to realize is now you hold is the biggest bulls eye on this God forsaken island. Everyone wants you, everyone wants to be just like you, everyone wants to criticize and judge you. Be ready, for if you aren’t, you will become a soulless corporate puppet.

FSX: Sounds like a good bit of fun, doesn't it? I mean...then I'd get to have a complete personality change, and bang the bosses daughter! Yes...life is looking up!

Thunderkiss: Cute. If it wasn’t for the fact that we have a higher purpose for you tonight, we’d pry your mouth from your skull for that insult. Truth be told, we didn’t not bring you hear to give you advice. We see you as nothing more than a “belt warmer” who is keeping OUR title warm. No, we brought you here to do us a favor.

FSX: Hmm...keeping our title warm? Doing us a favor? This isn't leading to some kind of crazy menagetrois, is it? Because I'm flattered and all, but your not really my type...neither is your invisible friend.

[TK cannot contain his laughter. His amusement booms off the concrete walls directly into FSX’s ears, causing him extreme displeasure. Wishing to add to his torment, TK answers his question by pulling down his sunglasses and exposing his red, glowing eyes. X does a double take, but his second gaze only supports his first.]

Thunderkiss: Does that answer your question?

FSX: It sort of does...but I'm still going to pass on the sex, though I must admit..your eyes sure are stunning. They have that delicious demonic glow that just says 'Take me now, my champion!'

Thunderkiss: Tonight we find Mr. London’s agenda very displeasing. It is one thing to harm a sinner, but an innocent with a child? We will not tolerate it. We will not have another perfect family torn asunder. That is where you come in. Tonight you keep a very close eye on Alicia and make sure no perils befriend her. Failure to do this shall very displeasing - for you.

FSX: Hold on a second, why do I have to do this exactly? Can't you just use your super powers and do it yourself? I mean, it seems a bit unusual that you'd just randomly give me such a task...

Thunderkiss: Just do what we told you.

FSX: You know, you were more likeable when you grinded people up and stuffed them into Thundergy bottles.

[FADE]

[BK London]

Main Event: BK London vs. Alicia Laureano (Pre-Match Credit: AK/Credit: BK London & ??)

There is a brief silence in the arena, a very rare occurrence considering we have not stepped down in the ACW Arena for quite a long time. But the silence is broken once the opening lyrics of "Hello Goodbye" by Lupe Fiasco pierces through it.

HELLO DARKNESS

HELLO SUNSHINE

HELLO NOT AT ALL

HELLO ALL THE TIME

HELLO NOWHERE

HELLO OBLIVION

HELLO GOODBYYYYYYYYYE

BK London steps through the curtains onto the stage with quite the smirk across his face. He's dressed for battle in the squared circle as he treads down the long ramp, and briefly remembers the reaction he got the last time he stepped through the curtain in ACW arena just over two months ago. So much has changed since then, with BK London returning to his cowardly and evil ways, but one thing has stayed the same - his thirst for competition.

As he hops up onto the apron, he stares at a few fans in the front row who are getting a bit too rowdy, before reverting his attention back to the task at hand. He hops up on the middle rope and poses for the ACW fans, and now he steps back down before demanding a microphone from Phillip. The lights in the arena return back to normal and the music dies down a bit. It's time for the moment of truth, the moment that has been anticipated for the entire week, the answer from Alicia.

BK London: So Alicia, basically your time is up. You've had one week to accept my challenge, and I KNOW you're backstage. So please, cut the suspense, cut the crap, and come out here and accept this match. Either that, or you forfeit and I get another 'W' on my record. So what's it gonna be Alicia? What's it gonna be?

There is the inevitable pause, just long enough to let the crowd steel themselves, and then….

??: All right, all right, keep your knickers on, London.

The crowd instantly starts buzzing, yells and claps kicking off – and then Alicia appears on the stage and walks straight toward the ring with a mic in hand. She’s got her classic ring set on, which causes the crowd to get really noisy, as well as ensuring she has BK’s full attention as she ascends the steps and enters the ring.

She stops about two feet away from her challenger, and just stands there, allowing the sound of the fans to swirl around. They clearly want to see the fur flying; BK continues to smirk despite the jeers of a large chunk of the crowd, who are eagerly awaiting his comeuppance. Alicia holds an index finger aloft, indicating that she wishes to speak.

Alicia: Ok, settle down everyone. You heard the gentleman; he wants a straight answer. And you lot want nothing less than a battle for the ages. Am I right?

Stupendous noise in the affirmative. Alicia smiles.

Alicia: I thought so. Well, let me put it this way; there are few things which would make me happier than to smack that smug expression right off your face, BK-

Even more shouting; BK is already starting to flex his muscles and ready himself. But Alicia cuts him off.

Alicia:- but to put it bluntly, you’re all asking me for something I simply can’t deliver on.

The cheers become groans, and a few boos. BK’s expression darkens and he folds his arms.

Alicia: Yes, yes, not popular, I know. But everyone here needs to understand something, I’ll keep this really brief so if anyone in the stands was about to take a rest break you’d better do it at light speed.

She takes a breath before continuing.

Alicia: It’s really very simple. This fed is, without a doubt, one of the best in the world. The bar is set incredibly high, and I’m not going to deny that one of the principle drivers of that quality is the man standing opposite me here.

The crowd gets a little quieter, wanting to see where this is going, and BK seems slightly surprised by the turn in the conversation.

Alicia: I worked hard, damn hard, to keep my position while I was a part of this great organization. It took every ounce of determination I have, because whatever the media or political correctness may have to say, the bottom line is that as a woman I had to walk on the ragged edge of what is physically possible for the female body in able to meet the standards you all expect. A combination of meticulous training, constant effort and good fortune enabled me to compete as long as I did; at my best I feel justified in saying that I could match up to any opponent. But that moment has passed; I had to let it go in order to preserve my chances of having a reasonably healthy life “after the ring”, of having the family life which means more to me than anything. The Alicia Kitsune who could cross swords with BK London on equal terms is no more. And what makes me really quite angry, BK, is the fact that you know all this already. You knew what my answer would be, could only be, the minute you threw down this gauntlet.

Some of the crowd are disappointed, and begin to cat-call and boo; BK looks deeply smug, but the shift in Alicia’s tone at her last sentence makes his ears prick up.

Alicia: That’s right. Don’t you dare play dumb with me or these fans, London. I can see it in your eyes; your star’s been fading for months upon end, and this is really all you have – without your “superstar” status, what’s left? Visiting rights once every couple of weeks?

There’s an audible “Ooooooh” from the crowd, and the flames are practically visible in BK’s eyes as Alicia metaphorically pours salt on to a deep wound. But Alicia’s own pride has been stung by this entire situation, and she’s in no mood to show mercy.

Alicia: I understand precisely what you and that pillock Russo are trying to do here, BK. You think that you can hark back to your finer hours by getting my name on your victories list one more time, and you don’t give a flying toss how you do it. You’re not even slightly interested in actually earning your reputation back if you can save yourself some hassle by cheating; I’m 99% certain that if I’d been daft enough to fall for your goading, and somehow got into a strong position against you, there’d have been a convenient flunky just around the corner ready to do your dirty work. Well, sorry, bucko, but frankly I don’t need this. I don’t care in the slightest if you call me a coward, or weak, or a million other things. There is no way on earth I’m wrestling you, and that’s final.

There is a loud surge of groans and boos from the fans. BK simply smirks and shakes his head, and opens his mouth to return fire with some barbs of his own-

Alicia: BUT- before you say it, BK, let me save you the trouble. What about these fans, the ACW fans I profess to care about so deeply? Aren’t I being totally selfish to raise their expectations and then dash them so cruelly? I have to say you’d have a point. Which is precisely why I went to see Chairman Gingerdude as soon as I arrived here tonight… and I didn’t see him alone.

Just like that, the crowd’s back with her, and it’s almost as if electricity is building in the air. Alicia looks BK in the eye and grins, and for once her look might genuinely be described as being tinged with schadenfreude.

Alicia: Two words for you, Beeks; substitute opponent. For your daughter’s sake I seriously hope your life cover is in order… and trust me, I’m going to enjoy every minute of this. Phil, it’s all yours.

She tosses ACW’s ring announcer her mic, and is already sliding out of the ring as the arena lights drop, before BK can summon up any sort of response. About a second later, “Perish” by Moi Dix Mois hits the sound system, and half a second after that the penny drops, and the crowd goes absolutely mental.

With Echo continuing to make her way to the ring, BK London is not so much angry that he won't be facing Alicia - but angry at the fact that he has to face Echo - who has a history of snapping during her matches, and then snapping her opponents in two. As Echo slides into the ring, BK London steps out of the ring - avoiding pissing off Ravaged II at any costs.

Phillip: ...and his opponent, making her way to the ring at 135lbs--Ayres "Echo" LeBlanc, The Ravaged II!

He walks around the ring a bit, staring both at Echo in the ring ant Alicia at the top of the ramp who is smiling approvingly at this situation. A few inaudible cusses fly in the direction of Alicia, in which she just brushes off. BK London now quickly turns his attention back to Echo in the ring, and within moments he's floored by the former ACW Entertainment Champion.

Echo launches herself over the top rope and takes down BK London with a crossbody to the delight of the fans in attendance - and now she picks up the former ACW Heavyweight Champion and chucks him back into the ring. Alicia takes this time to make her exit, to watch the match from the back.

The bell rings

[BK London]

As BK London rolls into the ring, he quickly begins to back up to the opposing side of the ring - not wanting to get on Echo's bad side, but he slowly begins to realize that she's not at all being aggressive. He figures out in his mind, that if he doesn't hit too many big moves or provokes her - he'll have this match in the bag. Echo backs up a bit, and quickly BK London makes his way to his feet and dusts himself off a bit. The match really begins as the two engage in a collar elbow tie up, in which BK London quickly latches on a side headlock. He now maneuvers the headlock into a rear hammerlock before now attempting to end this match early with a School Boy pin. Echo manages to escape the pin attempt even before the count of one, and as both get up simultaneously - Echo is the one to latch on the side headlock.

The thought goes through BK London's mind of elbowing her in the abdomen, but the last thing that he wants is for her to go ape shit on him. He manages to slip his head out from between the arms of Echo and grabs her in a Full Nelson. She however slips out of the hold and drops on her back before hitting London with a double boot to the chin. BK London drops on his back and both get up at the same time again, but it's Echo who drops London face first down to the mat with a Drop Toe Hold. She floats over the six foot two wreslter and now latches in a grounded variation of a Butterfly Lock - immobilizing BK London for the moment. Luckily, being so tall, he manages to get his foot on the bottom rope - which prompts Echo to release the hold.

BK London slips under the bottom rope to the outside following Echo breaking that hold, and it's tearing him apart inside that he's finds himself unable to use his entire moveset for his own safety. BK London kicks the announce table at for a few seconds, and as he turns around, he sees Echo coming at him with a baseball slide. BK London evades the move, stepping out of the way. Normally in this situation, he would follow up with a clothesline, but he hesitates - which proves to be disastrous for him. Quickly Echo plants him on the thinly padded mat on the outside with a Snap Uranage - something that many people her size can't really pull off on a man his size. BK London clutches his lower back in pain, and Echo picks BK London and throws him back into the ring. As she returns in the ring, she quickly goes for a cover..

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT!

His shoulder shoots up from the canvas, and Echo now turns London over on his back and latches in a camel clutch. Once again, BK London's legs help him get to the ropes - and Echo quickly breaks the hold. Once BK London returns to his feet, with some aid of the ropes, Echo races forward towards him to follow up with another maneuver. However BK London manages to side step that and he follows up with another School Boy.

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT

Echo and BK London get up once more, and it's a double leg takedown this time that gets Echo down to the mat, before BK scores with a Jacknife Pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT

They both get up, and now BK London goes for the Oklahoma Roll.

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT

La Majistral Cradle.

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT

Backslide.

ONE
.
.
TWO
KICK OUT

[BK London]

Absolutely nothing is working, and it's making BK London absolutely frustrated. In something he probably wishes he thought about before he did it, he takes down Echo with a massive clothesline before getting down and choking the life out of here. "DIE BITCH, DIE!", BK London screams, and within a few moments RAF quickly pulls BK London off the Rainbow Pro talent. RAF begins to chew into BK London about the blatant choking, and we can sense the anger rising within Echo. BK London pays absolutely no attention to what RAF is saying, and blows past him, but he's taken down with a hellacious spear.

Forearm after forearm after forearm, blast BK London in the bridge of his nose before he begins to cover up. Eventually, he uses all of his force to push Echo off of him before he rolls out of the ring to a safe distance. Lightly patting his nose, BK London checks for any signs of blood - but within seconds he's taken down with a Suicide Dive from the absolutely ape shit Echo. BK London is sent flying backwards into the steel barricade, and the former Entertainment Champion now drills her knees repeatedly into the former ACW Champion's abdomen.

The onslaught of knees doesn't look like it's ending any time soon, and once again BK London pushes Echo off of him. With his chance to escape, BK London looks to hop the barricade into the sea of fans - but Echo grabs him by his ankle and pulls him back ringside before mounting over him and continuing to pummel him with forearms to the jaw. She now picks up the now bloody nose London, and chucks him back into the ring. Echo rolls back into the ring herself, and BK London wastes no opportunity and drops an elbow right on the back of her neck.

This move keeps her down momentarily, and BK follows up with a Jumping Tailbone Press (Finlay Drop) to the back of Echo's head. Managing to keep her down, BK London finally can stop holding back and let loose on Echo. He begins to unwrap the tape from around his wrist and chokes Echo with it, while hiding it from the referee. As RAF walks around, BK London attempts to conceal the tape from him, until he eventually find it and begins to initiate the five count.

At four, BK London releases Echo from the tape, giving her the opportunity to breathe - and now RAF talks to BK London once again about his dirty tactics in the ring. BK London tells RAF to get out of his way, and he now picks up Echo and whips her into the ropes. As Echo comes off the ropes, BK London attempts a clothesline - but Echo manages to duck under it. Turning around, BK London is blasted with a huge roundhouse kick to the arm - which prompts him to scream out in pain. Seconds later, Echo latches on her Jujigatame - but BK London locks his hands so she's unable to hyperextend his arm. Echo throws fist after fist at the wrist of BK London, attempting to break the hold - but it's a heel kick to the front of the face that really knocks him out. She manages to successfully apply the hold, still delivering bootscrapes across the face of London, and this is not good for the facial features of the No.1 Contender.

BK London manages to reach the ropes, after being in a considerable amount of pain for several moments, and he now slips under the bottom rope to the outside. Once again escaping Echo. Echo rises up from the mat, and approaches the ropes - but BK London grabs her by her legs and jerks her to the outside of the ring. He attempts an Overhead Belly to Belly suplex, but quickly Echo hits him with a extremely hard headbutt that knocks both of them for a loop. BK London walks on spaghetti legs for a while, but approaches Echo again only to be struck again with a Shotei Palm strike. BK London continues to stumble around on the outside, but he approaches Echo for one more move - but he's floored with a massive roundhouse kick to the dome.

Echo picks up BK London once again and chucks him back into the ring before locking him in a grounded front facelock, and scoring with repeated knees to the skull. With every shot to the skull, BK London's legs jerk or twitch. After 10 straight strikes, Echo rolls over BK London on his back and makes the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE-KICK OUT!

[BK London]

BK London managed to kick out to a surprise from both the fans, and Echo herself a bit. Echo backs up, and watches as BK London attempts to rise back to his feet - but she floors him with a huge kick to the side of the skull. BK London drops back down to the mat, and Echo refuses to cover this time; instead, she steps back, dropping into a wind-up stance, and waits for him to rise with a frighteningly toothy grin and a not-quite-there look in her eyes.

Slowly BK London begins to get up again, and Echo scores with another stiff kick to the side of the head - and the now bleeding BK London is absolutely motionless in the middle of the ring. With Echo's chest heaving, the fire that once light up her eyes is slowly fading. Seeing that BK London is absolutely defenseless, the slasher-esque grin distorting her features immediately falls, replaced by obvious, lip-biting dismay. Frantically, she signals RAF to go ahead and check on him. RAF does so, and he sees that BK London is breathing and is responding to what he is saying. He gives Echo the green light, and she tentatively treads over to the fallen body of BK London to go for the cover.

She rolls him over on his back, but in a split second the entire tide of the match changes as Echo's leg is jerked from beneath her. Grabbing her in the infamous Corporate Lock, BK London applies plenty of torque and locks in the grapevine as the fans boo him like crazy. Royally infuriated at being taken advantage of, Echo screams obscenities at him in a language the fans can't quite seem to understand, and unleashes a machine gun's worth of high vertical kicks with her free foot. Each kick connects to the nose of BK London, and he hold onto the ankle of Echo for as long a she can. The screams of Echo pierce through the boos in the arena, and she attempts to make her way towards the ropes - but London digs in his heels, and it's just too much weight to pull. She continues to kick away, and kick, but one of them has to give. At any moment it looks like BK London is about to snap the ankle of Echo, but Echo is not holding back and scoring each and every kick to the face of London.

Eventually, BK London releases the grapevine and begins to stand up to a vertical base - hoping that it would end the barrage of kicks, but Echo doesn't hold back. One final kick sends BK London flying backwards into RAF, taking him down momentarily. Echo drags herself upright with the ropes, winds up hard, and springs off into a Perdition's Edge straight to the forehead, collapsing to the mat with the impact of the move.

With everyone in the ring down, Jake Cheng races down to the ring - possibly with orders from Chairman Gingerdude to take BK London out. He walks around to the opposite side of the ring and awaits for a perfect time to strike. Both BK London and Echo are using the ropes on the opposing sides of the ring to rise up to their feet, and Jake Cheng slips in between them and stalks London from behind. He has a move in mind, but once BK London turns around - THWACK.

......Echo falls down to the mat. RAF manages to capture this all through his eyes, and he calls for the bell.

Phillip: ...and the winner of this match by disqualification, The Ravaged II!

BK London collapses back down to the mat and is shocked at the events happening in the ring before him, and now Jake follows up on the big boot by restraining Echo. BK London, not ruining this opportunity, picks himself up and starts scoring with body shot after body shot to he abdomen of Echo. A slap across the face follows, and BK London wipes the blood off his face using his hands and slaps Echo across the face once more.

Suddenly a huge surge of cheers light up the crowd as ACW Heavyweight Champion, fresh of his six man tag earlier in the evening, races down to the ring and both Jake and BK London retreat. Echo claws her way back to her feet, nearly vaulting the ropes to get at London again, but Fallen Souls grabs her shoulders, quickly talking her down until she backs off a bit, seemingly calming down to normal. He climbs to the middle rope, raising his heavyweight title in the air, and acknowledges a respectful nod from the Ravaged, who forgoes shouting insults at London in favor of simply wiping his blood from her cheek and licking a finger off.

Despite the pain he bears, BK London exits unconquered and uninjured, having battled his adversary to a standstill and survived to tell the tale. He returns the harsh words of FSX, pointing to the belt and making it very clear what he intends to do with it, as he makes his way back up the ramp and the scene fades out.

[BK London]

Segment: Untitled (Credit: The Ravaged II)

Well, that was one way to let some stress off.

Raging out twice in a thirty-minute period wasn’t exactly good for my psyche, and I was about as lightheaded as you could humanly get when I stepped back into those halls, but I’d been through worse. It’d pass soon enough, that much was pretty damn clear from previous experience, and in the meantime I could get done with my actual reason for being there (assuming I didn’t fall over in the process, but that’d only happened once so far, and it was under slightly rougher circumstances).

Alicia was probably waiting for me in her dressing room or something, aiming to ask me how things were going and whether I was holding up and all the kind of things you normally expect your best friend (or closest analogue thereto, though I wasn’t quite that cynical) to talk to you about, particularly when you’re a…whatever the hell I am. She’d have to wait, though; tonight, at least, I had some business to take care of.

A quick glance down both ends of the hall revealed I was alone, and so I turned my head towards a last-minute-appearance-check mirror hanging from the wall, taking the opportunity to shove an errant bang behind my ear. “A’ight. They’re gone.”

I’ll never really get used to the way they just appear. There’s never any convenient swirling distortion to mark what’s about to happen, things just…pop up. Still, I kept myself from squealing like a little girl when I blinked and, in the millisecond it took to raise my eyelids, his image appeared behind mine in the mirror. (Note that I did wince, but that’s not the same. I swear.)

“Good.”

I noted, gravitating somewhere between dismay and intrigue, that a familiar scarlet cloak hooded his features, though the voice was still unmistakably his. It was…eerie, in a sense. Even with his face masked, the Count was a dead ringer for his father (physically, at least). “So…I’m in.” A shrug, and then I turned to set off down the hall. “What’s up?”

“There have been,” he answered, flickering in the vague aluminum facing of a soft drink machine beside me, “several complications. Something is underway, and the only constant as to what it could be is ”bad”. I have, naturally, brought this up to Mephistopheles, but until we ascertain what exactly they have planned, it would be best if you continue to lay low. Turn left here.”

“Laying low’s never been a problem so far. Keeps me alive.” The hall he directed me into was fucking long; what did people do with all these inane corridors around here anyway? “You think it’s connected to that, uh, thing you’re helping me with?” For some reason, I didn’t see much purpose in spelling everything out, just in case somebody was listening. Not like it could’ve mattered; as far as I knew, this could all just be in my head. But still.

Thankfully, the hooded spectre seemed much more inclined to be blatant about things than I was. “No, Echo, I doubt that what is likely shaping up to be another one of their damned attempts at Armageddon is in any way related to sending an impersonator to taunt you at some backwater professional wrestling event in Greenville.” His image shimmered on the floor, reflected in a puddle of water that had accumulated next to a janitor’s mop. “Though, given the nature of blood sacrifice, I would be lying to say that such ridiculous events have not happened before.”

“Ah, that’s why I love you, Boss, your self-deprecating sense of--”

“You will recall, please, that I can reduce you to a wild-eyed, gibbering wreck with a word.” I didn’t have to be able to see his face to know he was grinning. Not like I was missing anything there, either; as I knew from personal experience, any jovial expressions that showed up on his lips never quite made it to his eyes. Kinda unsettling.

The dizziness from going out there and slugging it out with whatshisface was starting to dissipate, and I found myself relaxing a little more as I rolled my neck to pop out a couple kinks. “Duly noted. Aren’t I supposed to turn in this hall?”

“Second right.”

“Roger wilco.” I complied, though finding my way through this labyrinth of halls and locker rooms was beginning to wear on me fast, even if I kinda-sorta subconsciously knew the path to my destination. Still, no reason not to try for some instant gratification. “So…about that impersonator thing, actually. Since I’m helping you find what you want…” Speaking of instant gratification, there was another vending machine. I popped in two quarters and snagged a Coke. “…could I get a couple answers out of you about it?”

I was not expecting, after taking a long, refreshing pull on the Coke and lowering the can, to find the Count’s image staring up at me from its glistening aluminum surface, and as such nearly dropped the drink, which would‘ve been quite the waste. “You’re not getting preferential treatment, Echo,“ he answered. “Simply being my avatar does not mean you’ll be receiving information for nothing. That said, however, I should think you would’ve been able to tell if it had been something from the Cosmos trying to provoke you. Has your instinct let you down yet?”

“Not yet, no.” The fluorescent lights in the ceiling flickered annoyingly as we drew closer. “Still…can never be too careful. As I recall, your old man took instinct for granted, and look where it got him.”

He snorted. “Mmm. I concede that you have a point, but in delving into things from which you really should be staying away, your senses are more useful than you might think. Notice, for example, that although we’re approaching my haunt of old, I can’t seem to find the slightest hint of Phlegethian scent in the air.”

“Is that what that is?” I murmured dryly, skipping around another corner. “These damn senses you gave me make this entire building smell so much like ink, it’s like Cocytus away from Cocytus. I keep expecting a half human half wasp to buzz up to me and offer a glass of absinthe.”

“I would inform the Marquis that the last of the Seven to try to accomplish anything here ended up bisected on the roof of a long-since-demolished building,” the Count answered with a shrug of his crimson-cloaked shoulders, “but his aims are likely as much of a juvenile, frivolous pursuit as my father’s were. He can reap whatever he earns from it.” We were coming up on what should be a split at the end of the hallway, and his image bounced from my soda can to a full-length mirror that hung between the juncture. “Ah, here we are. Go in and get…”

An awkward pause ensued, as I reached the spot shortly after he did and we stood there together looking at…a wall.

“…Um.” I spoke first, breaking the silence with an extremely intuitive declaration: “It’s not here.”

He folded his arms, drumming his considerable talons on robed biceps (that nonetheless clanked at the motion, given that the armor was almost certainly underneath that cloak). “So it is not.” An irritated sigh. “Well. This is a remarkable annoyance.”

Tilting my head to the side, I figured I might as well ask the logical question. “You think maybe they moved the Shroud beforehand?”

“They might,” he ventured, lifting a hand to tap at his unseen chin. “I would not expect anyone here to know what the Shroud was, or how to use it, but I would expect them to carry it off, with all the eager joy of blithering, half-blind children gathering as many shiny objects as possible and having no idea what to do with them. Likely it‘s lost forever now.”

Another moment of silent contemplation passed by. I considered asking if he’d be nice and give me the information I wanted anyway, but even though I was pretty sure he wouldn’t stop my heart with a glare, it was never good to take undue risks. After about half a minute, though, Vhal’kanis looked back at me. “I suppose,” he mused, red eyes gleaming from under his hood, “that since you did go to this effort to get the Shroud for me, even though it’s nowhere to be found, that I may as well honor your intent and answer your questions.” A quick nod reinforced that sentence, and he added, “You have three. Start asking.”

Wow. This was my lucky day.

“All right.” I knew what I wanted to ask, more or less, and posed the first, most obvious question. “Is the person I’m after, ostensibly back in Greenville, some kind of extraplanar Cosmotic entity, or associating with one?”

“No. I would know, trust me.”

“That’s a relief.” I let out a content sigh, leaning back against the mirror and running both hands through my hair. “At least if it’s just a human phenomenon, I can deal with it the best way I know how.” Just to emphasize that, I punched a fist into my open palm, and nodded with satisfaction. “Um…I have more questions, don’t I?”

“You do.” His voice behind me was dry, almost bored. I didn’t blame him; there were probably a thousand more important things over there than there were here.

Well, shit. I hadn’t thought of two more questions.

“Er…” No need to test the Count’s patience; I already knew how many people that’d claimed in the past. “…Um…” My mind raced, trying to come up with a question, any question. Suddenly, inspiration struck: “…So you know Jibrel the archangel, right? What’s she look like under the veil?”

The sigh I got in response managed to simultaneously convey annoyance, weariness, and amusement. “Baalzebul claims she’s actually quite attractive, “in a wholesome sort of way“, I believe he said. Odd choice of words for him. Nobody else seems to want to talk about it, probably for fear of the Prince. Last question.”

I was about to come up with something equally inane…and then something real occurred to me. It’d been eating at me for half a year now, and the more I tried to forget abut it, the more it nagged. How the Count would react to it was entirely up in the air, but as much as I didn’t want to anger him, he had promised me an answer, so…might as well give it a shot.

“Last question. Uh…it’s about Joachim, actually.”

“Mmhmm.” His tone was guarded. Not a good sign.

“I…well, I’m pretty sure he’s dead and gone by now. Pretty reasonable assumption, all things considered. And it’s been quite some time, about eight months if I recall right…so especially in light of the fact that he turned out to be the worst thing possible for me, you’d think it would be easy to forget any of it ever happened.”

I pushed harder on my palm, cracking each knuckle in turn, and twisted the fist around nervously. This was…well, kinda difficult to say. I didn’t talk about this kind of thing with many people. “And yet, despite that, he’s my sword of Damocles. Every once in a while when I’m just idly letting my mind wander, it wanders straight to him; I can’t help but remember those first couple years every time I see little things that remind me of him, and every few weeks…well, he pops up in my dreams. Not nightmares. Dreams. I know, since we’re, um, each other, basically, that you know what it’s like to spend a huge chunk of your life with somebody…your entire life, in my case, and how important they become. And even when they prove to be a cockbite (an epic cockbite, in his case)…you can’t quite discard them as easily as you want to.” Taking a breath, I shifted uncomfortably, hoping he wasn’t building up into some sort of rage for me broaching the subject. “What I’m wondering is…well…how do I forget about it? How do I just get over him, move on, let go?”

Well, that had been a bit more personal than I’d expected.

A thick, heavy silence hung over the hallway for an interminable moment, during which I didn’t dare turn around to look at him (just in case. If I’m gonna get incinerated I don’t wanna know it’s coming). I was just about to turn and see if he’d left without answering when his voice came from behind me, just a touch lower than usual and with a subdued note to it that I couldn’t quite place.

“If someday you find the answer to that one, Echo…do tell me. Ah, enemy mine.”

And with that, it was dead quiet again. I turned, figuring it was probably safe now, and glanced at the mirror.

Empty.

As if tonight hadn’t been futile enough so far. Life with hope was better than life without, but that didn’t make it any less bittersweet sometimes.

Well, at least I’d gotten something I was there after. Time to get back to Greenville and deal with whoever the bitch tramping around in my gas mask was. At least I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with the kind of thing I’d need the Institute for.

Alicia was probably waiting on me. I supposed I’d best go talk to her before I headed to the airport. She’d be concerned about me, probably…she usually was, but it’s why I loved her. Endearing.

Eh. Might as well get going.

Work was never done, in any sense.

[BK London]

Segment: Too many reunions to count (Credit: BK London/Jake Cheng)

Without any warning, we transition from the previous segment to the bloody BK London being helped out the arena by Jake Cheng. With the Grand Slam Champion's arm slung over his shoulder, Jake Cheng makes his way down the corridor. As he continues down the hallway, slowly BK London begins to realize what exactly is going on in this situation. He looks beside him and sees the ever familiar face of his former tag team partner Jake Cheng, and everything dawns on him at that moment.

Within seconds, BK London shoves Jake Cheng off of him and onto the wall of the corridor - blood staining the shirt of the former ACW Champion.

Jake Cheng: What the fuck, man?

BK London: What the hell are you doing here?

Jake Cheng: Is that the question you asked to the man who just saved your ass out there in that ring tonight?

BK London: And why exactly did you do that? I was doing perfectly fine against that bitch..

Jake Cheng: Oh please, you were getting your face kicked in. Besides, Russo would've wanted me to save you..

BK London: ...say what?

It suddenly dawns on him.

BK London: ...wait, wait, you're...

Jake Cheng: You best believe it...

BK London: Wow...

Jake Cheng: What?

BK London: ..nothing..nothing..

Jake Cheng: I'd suggest we get out of here and head to the nearest hospital, since I never saw so much blood coming out of someone's face since that Joey Mercury incident. You scored a 10 on the Muta scale...

BK London: ..you're probably right.

The two continue their way down the corridor until coming from the right is none other than Chairman Gingerdude, who is absolutely infuriated, and he's accompanied by female correspondant Charlotte King. The Chairman removes his blazer and throws it down in a rage before getting nose to nose with Jake Cheng.

Chairman Gingerdude: We had a deal Cheng!

Jake Cheng: And I had a deal with Russo first, so the way I see it, I got myself a new family and another International Title shot. But there shouldn't be any reason you should be left out of this great news.

Pulling a note out of the back of his jeans, he pushes it right into the chest of the Chairman of the Board. Gingerdude grabs onto the note as Cheng lets go, and both BK London and Jake Cheng - the newly reunited Top Draw, make their way down the hallway. Gingerdude rips open the envelope and reads the letter, as fans are anxious to hear what it says.

Charlotte King: What does it say?

Chairman Gingerdude: That son of a bitch Stephan Russo is suing me for unprovoked assault...

To be continued...

End Show

[Jake Steele]

Awesome return show. Things will be getting very interesting for SDS.

[Nick Durden]

*is the first to mark out for Echo*

FUCK YEAH! ECHO!

[Dan White]

That was an odd show

But great!

[Jonny Spade]

Senator marked out for him in chat already Nick, so you lose.

Awesome show!

[Nick Durden]

Jul 10, 2008 16:26:03 GMT -5 Jonny Spade said:

Senator marked out for him in chat already Nick, so you lose.

Pics or it didn't happen.

And besides, I can't access chat from work.

[Jonny Spade]