The camera opens on Pizza Boy sitting lonesomely in a darkened locker room, wrapping his ribs with ace bandage, wincing with every revolution around his body as the bandage tightens around his ribs.  He looks up at the camera with his bloody mess of a face, somehow still retaining a healthy, sane, white smile beneath the crimson and swelling.

PB: Oh, uh, hi I guess.  I didn't expect having to do one of these after that dreadful match of mine.  Man, I took a beating...we both did, really...to be honest, I don't remember much of it, even if I won or Jaeger won, but that's not important is it? What's important is that I put in my licks and gave the best performance of my career.  As a matter of fact, I'd go as far as to say if you didn't see that classic, for whatever reason, you should just go ahead and give up on living, because I'll never perform that well ever again...I think.  Not gonna lie, it's still fuzzy.

Tony walks by eating a banana and mumbling to himself.

TR: ...lazy ass writers...oooh Kerry Keller gets  a match but we don't? lame...

PB looks on in confusion as his mentor exits the scene as mysteriously as he entered it.

PB: Whatever that means.  Kerry didn't do too badly...from what I remember...the whole night's kind of a haze to me...what I do remember is the fusion cuisine loving Mexican Samurai giving me the strangest and most backhanded props in the history of compliments.  Apparently being good at being thrown around, hit with stuff, and getting back up earns respect around here.  Coulda fooled me, especially since El Samurai is the one doing most of the throwing and hitting of me with blunt objects lately.  And like, not even in matches, either.  And for no particular reason...kinda like how Hexa-Gun has targeted me.  Okay, okay, they had a reason.  I beamed half of'em with a folding chair and took a pizza slicer to the rest, but I still don't get it.  For someone who doesn't seem to 'pose a threat' or 'stand in their way', they're awfully interested in zeroing in on me.  Not Savage Ryans, not the other guys in Anti-Gun, just me.  Maybe it's because I drew a little blood, both figuratively and metaphorically, in our match at Civil War, maybe it's because I took out their 'Terminator'...or did I? Ow, my head.

TR: [off camera] Stop thinking about it, kid.  You'll rip the fabric of the universe.

PB: Whatever, my point is that they're putting up an awful lot of trouble just to take care of me.  I mean, don't they already have control anyway? Isn't that why I'm teaming with the shady jap-o-file Conquistador who keeps running me through? Is this a trap? Are they about to become a new form o a equiangular polygon with seven sides?  My latin's rusty, but will they become a Hepta-Gun?...ew.  Sounds like an STD.  And if that's not their motive for pairing me with my strange bedfellow with a sudden and somewhat questionable new found trust in me, then what is? To take us both out? to capitalize on our lack of cohesiveness? To test my loyalty to EAW? Or is it to see if I'd go to any lengths to take them out? Even if it means making a deal with a geographically, if not culturally confused devil?

PB gives a mousy, somehow innocent, smile beneath his carnal mask of viscera.

PB: Men kidnapped me, and I still sided with them over you.  I was even given a chance to return a few lumps to their skulls for what they'd done to me, but I still took the high road.  What makes you think I'll hesitate to sell my civil servant soul to get my hands on two more of you?

PB reaches into his pocket and procures his pizza slicer, glistening with fresh blood.  He tosses back his blood matted hair and stares into his crimson reflection on the blade with unblinking, half-slit, satisfied eyes.

PB: My steel has tasted blood. Your blood.  My blood.  It grows thirsty for more, even now while it's well lubricated from a fresh blood letting.  And it wont be satisfied until there isn't a drop left of lifeblood in Hexa-Gun, no matter who it has to go through.  Heed my warning, Samurai.  If your intentions aren't pure going into this match, if you plan on siding with the Big Evil that is Hexa-Gun, just to get another cheap lick in on me?

PB spins the blade, letting the fresh blood spread across it's round surface as it spins, until the entire slicer is maroon with fresh plasma.

PB: My little buddy would be more than happy to lick back.

PB smiles at his handiwork.  This smile is far less innocent than the initial boyishly charming one.  Suddenly, there's a gasp.  PB's malice breaks into concern as he glances up, just as the camera pans up, to find Percy standing wide eyed and slack jawed.  PB stares up at his trainer with the innocent guilt of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  He quickly stows the cutter back in his pocket and begins to rise to explain to his mute friend.  Percy slowly backs away, and then bolts out the door.  PB slumps back down on the bench and rests his hands on his bloody face in embarrassment, before running them through his matted blood soaked hair and staring ahead like a deer in headlights.  Suddenly, a phone rings off camera to the tune of 'Tony's Theme' by the Pixies.  It's quickly answered.

TR: Yeah...yeah...slow down! I'll tell'em chatty Cathy.

PB: Who is it?

TR: It's Percy.

PB: Oh?

TR: He's already ran across town to the airport.

PB:...oh...

TR: He says 'Jesus you've gotten dark.' 

PB: *sigh*...ummm yeah, I figured.  Tell'em I'm sorry.

TR: I will when he finally stops bawling about your loss of innocence.

PB: Oh...uh, then just hang up then.

TR: He says he's very disappointed in you, Andrew.

PB: Ju-JUST HANG UP THE PHONE!

TR: He says that he still loves you.

PB: Cut off the camera.  

Camera Guy: I will in a -

PB: DAMNIT, [redacted] I SAID CUT OFF THE CAMERA!

PB charges the camera guy as the friendly camera operator lets out a spooked howl as the blood doused PB lunges at him.  He quickly cuts off the visual feed.

Camera Guy: It's off, it's off!

PB: Good!

Camera Guy:  Jesus...you HAVE gotten dark.

TR: I agree.

PB: ugh...shut up.

HBG: Stop... and think.

Go all the way back two months ago at Pain for Pride 8 and watch me score the winning pinfall over Mr. DEDEDE for the Unified Tag Team Championships. Watch Showdown two weeks later, and see me yet again pin the Heart Break Boy for the win. See me win over Christopher Corrupt at Dynasty Wrestling, too! Go watch Midsummer Massacre, and see The Mercenaries annihilate the DynastGuards, and then fast forward to Hexa-Gun's reveal beating the living hell out of Ryan Savage and Zack Crash. Oh! And don't forget that a few weeks later, we have successfully defeated the up-and-coming elitists, evidently the most formidable and unstoppable group that Dynasty Wrestling has to offer -- The Iconomy.

And then Civil War comes along, I pinned Pizza Boy for the victory in the same manner I pinned CM Banks four years ago at Triple Threat to become the sole survivor. Shoutout to my former idol, Mr. DEDEDE! Isn't it amazing?

[HBG laughs.]

Wow, I really do win everything, don't I?... You know, in theory. While I do admit that I have sometimes faced defeat, I somehow manage to rise back up and get exactly what I want regardless. You can point out how I haven't used completely honest means in most of those victories, especially against you, but would it really matter if my hand was raised as winner of the match by the end of it all, Chris Elite? Did you expect me to not take advantage of the moment if I see an easy victory in front of my face? Was it really my fault that you made a lapse of judgment and didn't understand your surroundings, too late to realize that there's no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and you've set yourself up to be disappointed? Was it also my problem that Cailin couldn't perform wrestling maneuvers because she was too busy being disgusted by your mere presence? Oh, is JJ Silva's failure as a leader and athlete on me too? And what about Eclipse Diemos? Is it supposed to be my worry that he spends too much time thinking of which child to molest in Day 23?

The Iconomy vs. Hexa-Gun, who would have thought that this would even have a Part Two? After one victory, this should already be over. After we have proven that not even the all-powerful Savage Ryans couldn't stop us, this shouldn't even be a question. Now here you are, Chris Elite, expressing your distaste for us, and here I am listening to more of your incoherent babbling, when I thought I made certain that you do not fucking address me or my team, or pretend you're important enough for us to catch Hexa-gun's eye and be taken as a threat.

You have been back in this company for a few months, but right now it seems that you're just as naive as a 7 year old in his first day of class. You seem to think people actually succeed in this company by trying to get some sympathy from the fans, while aimlessly wielding weapons to fend off opponents they simply can't defeat. Get a glass of water, and you think you can create a vast ocean. Take a single twig from a tree, and you feel like you can turn it into a sword. You get the opportunity to be in the same ring with three members of Hexa-Gun after facing defeat in their hands not a month ago, and you think you're already in their level of greatness. Where do you get the audacity, Chris Elite? How do you maintain a semi-confident expression? Because your Iconomy brothers stand behind you and are ready to back you up? You're too caught up with revenge and the chance for redemption that you think you can speak in the same conversation and breathe the same air that we do, and yet behind that mask of a stupid smile, there's always a line of weakness and fear that leaks out at every chance it gets. You don't even trust your own strength, do you? Your weaknesses betrayed you before, and they will again. I bet you're just satisfied with the fact that you belong to a group of misfits whose careers are just waiting to die, rather than taking the dangerous route and proving once and for all that Chris Elite is more than just "that retard from the Iconomy". And I get it, Chris Elite, this world is a sad place, filled with unfairness and suffering, and the only way to get what you truly want is to display brute force, and appear as a ferocious competitor that people don't want to face, but nobody really sees you that way because nobody thinks that you're strong enough to be the face of the industry, am I right? And misery loves company. You're a moron, so you band with morons like yourself to find meaning to your sad and pathetic existence, so as to not waste the contracts you signed with this company. You are satisfied playing paper dolls with Cailin Dillon in a stinky hotel room JJ Silva booked you in, while Eclipse Diemos tortures puppies, because that's just as good as life gets for people like you. You're satisfied with losing matches, you sit and wait for these moments where you get back at those who have humiliated you once so you can blow the opportunity again and be left in the ring unfulfilled wondering why, why didn't I do enough? HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?

So what if facing Hexa-Gun once has given you an idea on how to fight us? Would it even matter? You will be defeated again. We will adapt to whatever strategy you impose. You will be humiliated once more. And it's not because we are "theoretically unbeatable", it is simply because we are better than you, and that we refuse to be taken down by your kind, a pitiful excuse for a team. I implore you, Chris Elite, stop and think even for a minute. Stop living in this drug-addled fantasy of yours where The Iconomy actually poses a legitimate threat comparable to the Anti-Gun. Face the reality that this Iconomy gig isn't really working out well, and step away while you have the chance and a shred of your rapidly diminishing dignity remains. I can give you any amount of reasons why Hexa-Gun can defeat you again, but let's just stick to the ones that really matter -- it doesn't matter to us if you're a legend in this company, or an irrelevant insect whose purpose is to be killed off. If you're an opponent, we will take you down. We live by our goals. We breathe extreme. We exist to destroy those who oppose us. And that is why we win more. We stand in unity. We fight and win for one another. We protect our name and operate like functioning parts of a bigger, more indestructible machine. WE ARE HEXA-GUN.

You say you win the war? Bitch, you're not even IN the war.

YOU'RE NOTHING TO US.

Under other circumstances, I might have ignored the disrespect sent my way and passed it off as elementary ignorance. These weren't other circumstances, and this wasn't merely elementary ignorance no different than a fourth-grader swearing at his teacher and promptly being disciplined; this was a tacit, unabashed manipulation of the system. When you're a newcomer in this industry, often the prospect of finding the biggest fish there is and doing your damnedest to lure him in and fry him is intriguing. It generates name value for yourself at the expense of someone more established, simultaneously exemplifying your merit while proving yourself as an individual that won't go down quietly and will not cower before a challenge no matter how enormous the task before him may be. Throughout this entire course, I've been the reasonable pragmatist that dealt with my affairs leniently and Brett Kennedy has been the clownshoes idealist that couldn't fathom the light if it flashed before his very eyes. Frustrations and annoyances often come to me in bunches; it's an inexplicable phenomenon I couldn't even aim to understand, but which consistently manages to define my existence. I beseech you, imagine a line of dominos that multiply for every time they fall down. Imagine electricity contained within a ball of energy, and illogically, instead of minimizing until it fades into obscure nothingness, the ball simply grows with time. Attempting to defeat or repress it would be ill-advised because it will then swallow you whole and submerge your existence within the vastness of its seemingly infinite space, but there's a difference between trying to subdue it and harnessing the negative energy contained inside of it and using it as a strength to combat your foes. Too often, I have made the mistake of attempting to somehow neutralize it. I've convinced myself that I had the strength to destroy this irrepressible energy, but I learned with the wisdom of age that fooling yourself only results in failure; coming to grips with reality and reasoning with yourself provides the best opportunity for success. So, instead of trying to repress and drown out the negative energy that threatened to consume me, I harnessed it; and through embracing my inner selves, I defied impossibility and saved myself!

It was during my oft-discussed "twilight" in 2014 that I had initially become irritable to the extent it affected not only my professional career, but my personal life. I had returned illustriously at the Grand Rampage, but this wasn't the incarnation of yesteryear where I swiftly dealt with my foes, laying waste to everything that obstructed my path until my rule was unquestionable and I reigned with an iron fist. I was regressing because I lacked the initiative and awareness to think that I needed to change. I figured, "Hey, I'm coming off a sixth World Championship run and no other extremist has proven capable of doing that. I must be doing something right." I couldn't have been more wrong. My prowess was never in doubt, but my passion and desire were under intense scrutiny and frustration only mounted from there as I failed to answer the numerous questions that plagued me like a mute called to the stand in court. At some point, I became delirious and the same doubt that crept up into the minds of the fans, the tabloid journalists, and even the corporate executives who wrote my paychecks had found its way to The Quintessential Champion himself. I wondered aloud what I was lacking and knew that I was driving myself to the brink of insanity by churning on what seemed a fruitless plight. My body was failing me, and my mind wasn't far behind. I was firing on all cylinders of failure. The career I worked so diligently and exerted so much energy to attain was crumbling before me, and I was unable to stop it. Eventually, I'd become so sickened with my string of poor performances that I gave myself an ultimatum -- win or go home, prove it or quit, live free or die hard. It was the only period in my career where I could truly say I was unable to adapt to my surroundings. Somewhere in the depths of my subconscious, I had grown satisfied, complacent, and content just to have accomplished what most aspiring wrestlers aren't even fortunate enough to get the opportunity to do. Tyler Parker put me of my misery, and it was only after nearly a year of thorough, extensive, and arduous rehabilitation that I was capable of returning and regaining not only my physical self, but coalescing all those little components inside me that amounted to abject failure and couldn't be overcame if they weren't properly unified. Admittedly, I'm quite envious of doe-eyed wrestlers that can walk down the aisle and enter the ring with a completely absent mind and set their sights solely on the destruction and utter defeat of their enemy. My genius has always been a double-edged sword; something I could devise strategies with that no one else could, or my greatest Achilles heel that impeded my ascension in a time where I needed to progress and evolve or face the music of an impending demise.

I've never been the easiest person to get along with, but this truth has been a hallmark of my career in the same vein that water is wet and Hexa-gun members win championship gold. The Heart Break Gal, and only the Heart Break Gal, proved she could break the chains and cross through the filters of my cold, stony heart. It was through her guidance and support that I gained the initiative I'd been desperately lacking in 2014 to rehabilitate myself and come back born anew. In many respects, she is the de facto Hexa-gun leader, and without her, everything we're achieving now would be but pipe dreams in the overactive imagination of an adolescent. Since returning, the adjustments I once gravely needed to make are now at my disposal. My arsenal has not diminished; it has EXPANDED, and now I hold the fort with a full clip. How many elitists have challenged me since returning? How many elitists have salivated and foamed at the mouth through the sheer thought of defeating me and taking my mantle? How many budding tag teams are plotting The Mercenaries' demise as I speak right now? I am unbeaten at major EAW events since I returned five months ago. The Mercenaries haven't lost a tag team match since our formation. Every member competing as Hexa-gun has performed admirably and proudly upheld the values we stand for. We all represent the perfect embodiments of unity, and in the unity of six-like minded soldiers banding up and forming as a whole, we gain clarity! And by gaining clarity, we show up to every event performing as if its our last, we participate in our matches with the competitive fire and zeal of true champions whether our members are in possession of physical titles or not, we wreak havoc on the leftovers that still dare to oppose our authority; by gaining clarity, we achieve prosperity!

... But in embarking on this journey of dominance in an effort to permanently enact our version of perfect rules, there will always be stragglers, won't there? The people that claim they're moving to another country if a certain President gets elected, the people that defy authority solely because they're afraid of embracing change and all it entails. It's as some people are born with an innate propensity for stasis, and others determined to stand by their forward-thinking convictions. Change is gradual, but Hexa-gun is reversing the course of history and reviving a brand of extreme wrestling that this company has dishonorably abandoned. We will not cease fire and we will not be intimidated by wrestlers EAW mistakenly deems "rivals." When history is written and we're all nothing but lines in the sand, Hexa-gun will remain immortal through the memory of its unmatched ambition, and The Iconomy, like its members, will be forgotten. In my view, Hexa-gun is glorifying their existence by associating with them through means of combat and making them relevant in the process because they can't do the job themselves. That is a direct reflection of my ability to make everything I touch, even the most lowly, rag-tag, cookie-cutter, run-of-the-mill elitist in EAW, shine like a diamond. How do you think Brett Kennedy gained recognition? He got noticed by latching his name on to mine, and I responded because I'm certainly not going to back down from a fight against anyone, let alone some wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn. Without me, everything he's accomplished to date and every match he's participated in would be in a far lesser capacity. But because I've been generous enough to bless him with acknowledgement, because I have retaliated and will continue to retaliate, his fifteen minutes of fame have been prolonged. I doubt any of you will be intelligent enough to inquire about the reason I do this, but I'll give you an explanation nonetheless because that's the type of guy I am. I do it because it sets my opposition, my adversaries, my enemies up for a fall that's steeper than anything they could have imagined in their most fear-striking nightmares upon signing on the dotted line in this company. In order to experience a true fall, you must first rise. I have no delusions about any of you managing to achieve that on your own, so instead of waiting for you to gain notoriety on your own merits, I expedite the process of your rise so that I can fully savor the sweet taste of your dramatic, devastating fall from grace. Showdown will be such an occasion, and The Iconomy, like Brett Kennedy and so many dreamers before them, will once again succumb to the wrath of Hexa-gun and feel the pain of taking a dive in the pool and landing on the concrete.

I’d spent the majority of my week off last week – and part of this week – picking my brain about how Territorial Invasion concluded; making some form of an attempt toward understanding the method behind the madness; a motive; a reason; hell, I don’t know, something to help make sense of it all.  What the hell would possess Rhaegar to do what he’d done?  Unlike our adversaries, there were no disputes to report between us, we had the most powerful individual not only backing us but standing on the line alongside us, and a lot of momentum heading into the Free Per-View.  This was his big break; to stand with a legend in Kevin Devastation, two future first ballot Hall of Famers like Crash and myself, and one of the few future prospects this company has left in Scott Oasis; and he fucked it all up.  All he had to do was ride our coattails – like he’d been doing – going forward and play the role he was given in the match, because let’s face that was the only reason he was chosen in the first place; it’s not like his name carries any weight around here.  That spot could have gone to someone of much greater relevance and skill, but yet and still Crash insisted we take a chance on the guy against my professional advice of course.  We threw him a bone – did him a favor – and that’s the way he shows his gratitude; by biting the hands that have fed him.  Had he done this favor—just this one big favor the payoff would have been great for him; but instead he chose to become another mutineer.  To Rhaegar, I only have this to say, I truly hope that whatever Conning offered you as compensation for your betrayal was worth it; just know that it would be in your best interest to never show your face here again…because the next time I see you I will be coming to eradicate you.

But yes, Territorial Invasion left us all with a bad taste in our mouths.  Some may have lost something of much greater value than others, but we all hurt, cut, and bleed just the same.  With Crash on Dynasty I gather the war between us has died or in the very least simmered down; the group’s members have each chosen to go their separate ways and so must I.  It’s on to greater challenges for me; the first that just so happens to be against the Answer’s World Champion.

What can be said?  You made Starr-Stan quit.  That’s a mighty feat to accomplish.  The guy is a former Olympian and Gold Medalist; he’s trained his entire life to achieve all that he has in his career, using his wit and agility to keep fellow competitors on their toes.  And now, it’s all gone.  I too shared the astonishment of the EAW cosmos when he uttered those fatal words; words that’d officially closed the lid on the straining relationship of the once happy couple.  I know you may not see it now, but one day you will realize that it was for the best.  Yes, break ups can be rather difficult but they’re hardest on the children, so just thank your lucky stars the two of you didn’t choose to conceive.  But all kidding aside, I’m actually impressed by some of the work you’ve been doing around Voltage as of late.  You’ve ended your little marital dispute with Starr-Stan, stood toe to toe with Brian Daniels and defended the honor of the Answer’s World Championship; thus proving that you aren’t his inferior or his equal, that as long as you hold that you’re his successor.  I actually found myself cheering you on that night, not because I give two measly fucks about you, but because I respect the hell out of the Answer’s Championship.  It was the jumper cable to the fading battery that was my career, it gave me the jump – the kick – the electrical charge I’d needed to continue.  So if anyone, especially a Duck Dynasty reject like Brian Daniels, tries to downplay its worth; I take great offense to it.  Thanks for that…but I can’t help considering the possibility that his reasons for thinking that may have been justified.  At Reckless Wiring you pinned Scott Oasis; you couldn’t finish him at the Grand Rampage; at Triple Threat you not only lost the match for your Team but you had to catch him off guard just to get the better of him; and at Pain for Pride you captured the Championship but only by way of pinning Starr-Stan.  Perhaps he has every right to feel the way that he does about you, because history proves that when the chips were down you only won by cutting corners and just barely getting by him.

Last week, you made it clear that there wasn’t anyone on Voltage who could take the Answer’s Title away from you; but I wouldn’t consider myself to be just anyone…more so THE ONE who can take the Answers World Championship away from you.  And I have no problem proving it to you once this week has met its end.

Here lies The Franchise Demon...the man who tried to put fear into people's eyes across the world but was treated like a total joke...let's start with The New Ministry. The New Ministry was going to be the next big thing in EAW and The Ministry were going to rule the world but then Draven decides to fall off the face of the earth and then Franchise was stuck with Kerry Keller. From weeks upon weeks Franchise didn't have any success what so ever because Franchise was stuck with that fucking piece of shit named Kerry Keller. Franchise knew Keller was scared of him from day one and that's why Franchise sent his ass packing right to Showdown after Pain for Pride 8. After Keller was sent off to Showdown, Franchise felt like he got his mojo in and he could finally put the fear into people's eyes on his own but the problem was Ashten fucking Cross didn't think Franchise was good enough for Voltage so he tried his luck over on Battleground. Ken Stark gave a few chances against the top guys of EAW. People like Dark Demon, Diamond Cage, Psycho Brody, Stark ect... Franchise had some success against Stark and Psycho Brody but could never get his feet off the ground and since then Franchise Demon was treated as the biggest joke of EAW. This past week on Battleground Franchise Demon was smacked in the head over and over and over again with a steel chair by Chuck Scene. This was the end of the Franchise Demon era, Franchise had enough with being a joke of EAW. Exit Franchise Demon, open the door for Jay Omen! 

The fun and games are over...people better look in the mirror for the last time because this will be the last time you see your reflection. It's time....IT'S TIME TO SEE JAY OMEN'S REFLECTION! People never understood my point of view.....what it's like to be in my shoes but now all of you will....For the first time all of the EAW's fans and roster members will understand what it's like to be Jay Omen. Starting with you Vance Tybull, you will finally get to breath fresh air for once and get out of that piece of crap known as Dynasty Wrestling....welcome back to EAW and welcome to Battleground MY HOME TURF! You say you're going to wrestle a bear this Monday on Battleground? Well I got some news for you my friend, you are going have to fight a dragon as well. Get ready to experience darkness in your life, get ready to feel no mercy...get ready to be taken over from your's truly. And once I'm done with you I will gladly beat your ass again and take that National Elite Championship from you and bring some class back to that championship....the fun and games over get ready look into the eyes of the dragon...

 
 
 
Second chances… they say everybody deserves a second chance. But I’m not naïve. I know that in the wrestling business, not everyone gets them. The first time they told me the Iconomy was going to face Hexa-gun, I was elated. It’s the only time in my EAW career I have gone up against a champion, and I was determined to show everyone I belonged up at their level. Instead, I got all jacked up and lost my cool. I was so anxious when I got in that match, and saw my shot to be the first Vixen to face HBG since forever, and I screwed it all up. I had to really step back and put that match behind me. And I never thought there would be another opportunity to make up for the mistakes I made that first time. I sat at Territorial Invasion and watched from the back while the ultra-powerful Hexa-gun dispatched of the anti-gun unit that tried to take away the power they seem to hold over the rest of the roster. The Hexa-gun is the model for what every up and coming stable in EAW should want to be. They are truly a team in every sense of the word, and they have an aura about them that makes them appear unstoppable. But the thing is, they’re just as stoppable as the next stable.
 
The Mercenaries lead that group, walking around with their tag team belts like they will hold them forever. But the truth is they won’t. And when they lose those title belts, Hexa-gun just won’t have the same power it does now. You see the one thing making you guys seem all high and mighty, is the fact that you have gold. Take that away, and you’re just another stable in the endless back and forth power struggle that is EAW. I came here because I had already accomplished everything I possible could in my last stop. It didn’t take me long after signing my contract to see where the food chain came together. Ever since you two came back to the EAW as a tag team, you have basically done anything you wanted. I can tell how annoyed you were with the prospects of facing Iconomy the first time, and you dispatched of us just as you said you would. But that was last time, and this is now. I’m sick of being treated like low-level trash why you six stand our your pedestal with your elitist attitudes and flick at your chin when I come close. I’m tired of being told to kiss the feet of a girl who’s been a champion for a damn week, like she’s the longest reining champion in this business. I deserve to have my feet kissed and praised. I should be standing at that pedestal at that level with you.
 
Instead, you’ll try to paint me out to be some sort of failure because I have nothing to show to my name other than an affiliation with the Iconomy. Go ahead and believe that. Please, soak up your disbeliefs and spread them about. Talk your nonsense about the Iconomy and say your negatives about each and every one of us. Tell me why you’re so much better than Chris. Explain to me why you think Eclipse isn’t crazy enough to beat the three of you on Showdown. And then set your sights on me and tear me apart with your words. Because your words don’t mean shit to me. It’s people like you that go around with your grandioso ways and explain to everyone how you’ll win by showing off your extensive vocabulary. We’re not trying to beat you in a spelling bee, so don’t try to defeat us with your grammar. Last time we met, I was addicted to the allure of facing HBG. This time I don’t care who’s in the ring when I get in. Just because I fight Vixens on the regular, doesn’t mean I’m not just as capable of kicking an Elitist right in the mouth. I don’t care about past results and what you might think they say about me. I know I’m not just among the best female wrestlers in the world, I’m among the best wrestlers, period. I’ve been patiently waiting to prove just how good I am, but I’m tired of waiting. This match will be when it all comes out. So while the three of you will be using your own brand of malice-infused words this week, while you are finding ways to put your accomplishments over ours by telling us, we will be preparing to show you. I’m going to be proving to every one of you that the first time was a fluke.
 
Cailin presses a button on the front of the blu-ray player and pops out the disc, grabbing it and dropping it in a tray. She squirts a little bit of fluid on it and then lights a match, dropping it over the disc as the flames start to grow over the disc and burn it away.
 
This is in the past and my eyes are set on the future. I’m putting that all behind me and focusing on what matters. I’ve told you I’m among the best in the world and it will be proven when I step into that ring with each and every one of you. I know you have your doubts about me, and the sample size doesn’t have much to say about me. But fuck that sample size. I just burned it to nothing. And this match is going to be a not going to be a reflection of the ashes that will soon be left in this tray. The Iconomy is going to change your minds about each and everyone of us. You don’t see us as a threat to what you hold so dear, but you’re wrong. You should’ve taken us much more seriously. Your legacy at the top is about to take a huge hit, and I’m going to be the one that delivers it with my size 9 boots.

The scene begins with an outside look of Eris LeCava’s home. The home seems neat and tidy as the breeze from the wind moves bushes and flowers side to side. The camera begins to zoom through a window and starts going towards the direction of the kitchen. As the camera moves, one can visibly see that the house from the inside is absolutely atrocious. Crumpled up newspaper, trash of all sorts scattered around the home. Finally, the camera reaches its destination. It begins to pan all over the area, the kitchen is practically empty. There is no food in sight or traces of food to begin with. Eris is finally shown, looking in the greatest shape she’s ever been in, sitting in her kitchen table. She has a pen in her hand and a tared up piece of notebook paper lying in front of her.
 
Eris: Hmph, that’s not quite how I envisioned this. Oh! Maybe I should add more red!
 
Eris reaches for a box of markers to her side and pulls out a red colored marker. The camera pans into Eris’ drawing.

 
Eris: Finally I get back in action on Voltage. I want to make amends and start new! First I have to congratulate Maddie – errr, I mean Madison on her win! Oh, she looks so delightful with that championship around her waist… Oh… I  bet I would look even greater. And, and now she’s the champ and the face of this division … Mhmm. … Oh yeah, she… looks…. great……
 
Eris stares at the drawing and out of nowhere slams the drawing on the table.
 
Eris: But of course, you sleazy fucking hag. If you wouldn’t have been a slimy cheater and beaten me in the Empress of Elite finals then I wouldn’t have been here these past couple of weeks while I see your bitchass hogging all of the glory!!!
 
Eris grabs a marker and begins scribbling all over the drawing.
 
 
After minutes of complete chaos, Eris brings herself to stop. Panting, Eris takes her drawing and crumples it up and throws it behind her head. Eris sighs as she takes out her phone. She begins dialing as the ringing is heard from the other line.
???: Hello, this is Amber from the National Suicide Prevention Line, how may I assist you?
 
Eris: What should I do? I haven’t been in action for weeks and now this stupid bitch is ruining my life.
 
Amber: Care to share any details pertaining that situation?
 
Eris: I was on top the entire time, THE ENTIRE TIME! I was almost going to succeed, but right down to the final I had to face that .. that DISGRACE and she ruined EVERYTHING FOR ME. SHE RUINED IT! I was taking advice from my therapist to make amends and to start things off on a clean slate, but god damn I just can’t. That anger that frustration that is building up can no longer be contained. I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel like I’m out of ideas. I think I may just strangle her during her sleep! But don’t tell HBG that, she usually gets angry whenever I say homicidal comments. Oh god and don’t forget about Chuck! Even though he has death fluttering in those big, brown eyes of his, I can’t help but to relate to his mental instability. I know what he’s gone through and I don’t understand why he continues to push his deep, inner feelings away. I think the fucker is in love with me and just wants to kill me in my sleep!
 
Amber: We care about you deeply and about your emotions, however, homicidal thoughts are to the extreme, don’t you think? Also, abusive relationships are something that you can get out of. Your options are not limited.
 
Eris: Well, yeah I guess you can say it is. But you don’t understand this slimy abomination and you definitely don’t understand what’s at stake here! She is the reason as to why I’m not Empress Eris. She’s the reason as to why I had to sit on the sidelines for three weeks. She took away the opportunity for me to make a name for myself in EAW and she didn’t even win! She stole what was in every girls vision and she’s tarnishing its reputation. SHE’S DISGUSTING, PATHETIC, EGOTISTIC, DELUSIONAL GOD DAMN CUN—
 
Amber: Miss?
 
Eris: Yes?
 
Amber: Maybe you’re approaching this situation quite drastically. Instead of focusing on your past, you should try to plan out your future. Stop dwelling on what could have been and start working on what you can definitely do.
 
Eris: I think I know where you’re going with this. I mean, you’re completely right – holding this grudge against Madison is irrelevant and it’s hurting me way more than it’s hurting her. She’s basking in the glory while I’m complaining to the Pizza Hut Cashier, I should be focusing on how to one-up myself and to potentially take away that championship from her. Wow, who knew cashiers were so philosophical and shit?
 
Amber: This isn’t Pizza Hut this is the National Sucidi---
 
Eris: Forget about the pizza, thanks for your time!
 
Eris hangs up and immediately begins scrolling through her emails. She finally finds the email sent to her by the Voltage booker and begins to smile.
 
Eris: Facing Katie Rotten is just what I need to get my spirits up. Only because I didn’t win the tournament doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of being called one of the greatest independent wrestlers that has gone through the EAW stage. I know my abilities and I know that I am one hundred percent better than Madison or any other Vixen for that matter. I refuse to let this bring me down! I will admit, for the past couple of weeks I’ve been down in the dumps – I spiraled down into a severe depression where I didn’t even want to get up from bed. I cried, I laughed, I yelled and I did nothing. That’s not going to the base from now on. Katie Rotten has no idea who she’s going up against. I’m a wolverine ready for her next meal. I am going to conquer my next task and I will do it with flying colors. During the time that I was deemed as the participant with the highest points in the Empress of Elite tournament, I got a small view into the world that champions are usually residing in. I already got a slight taste of the limelight and god almighty did I like it. I love it, I crave for it, I NEED it. This is just the beginning of my career and it’s already going through the right direction. Not Chuck, not Katie or Madison will interfere in my success. I am the queen of my kingdom… I am what embodies the perfect Vixen. I am everything?
 

Eris face shows slight confusion as she begins mumbling to herself as the camera fades to black. 

Exactly. Exactly. Warrior V1 went out there and he made a statement. Warrior V1 went out there and he took down the opposition. Warrior V1 went out there and he made sure that the world took notice. Thruster, you're not bad, kid. You're not bad at all. But as far as stepping into the ring against a living legend, I'm afraid, you're just not good enough. And that really isn't the worst thing, either. In fact, maybe you should've taken a notepad and a pen to the ring and take notes while I pummeled you. Even better, why don't you come along and sit ringside for when I take on my next victim? I got to tell you, beating Thruster around like that, that showed me that I still got it. That showed me that a man whose been through hell is still hell-bent. There's nothing I won't do to make sure that the entire world takes notice of how great of a wrestling deity that I am. There is NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE in the world whose resume is any bit more excellent than the one who signs his name as "V1". 

But moving along. The story never ends, and the Warrior never dies. My next opponent goes by the name of Valiente Wyvern. And the last time I got a glimpse of him speaking, he was ready to take off his mask and hang it up for good. The last time I saw him wrestle, he got his ass kicked by J.D. Damon. Now I don't know which is more embarrassing, Wyvern. The fact that you lost your opportunity at the Pure championship. Or the fact that you lost to a guy like J.D. Damon. It only shows me the type of imbecile and buffoon you must really be. It only shows me that you hide behind that mask not because it's your tradition or apart of your idiotic luchadore cult, but because you're afraid. You're afraid Wyvern. You're afraid of who you really are. You're afraid of what you may become if you were yourself. 

You see Wyvern, there was a time a few years back when I would paint my face multicolored, and be called the biggest attraction there was. But you know what? I didn't want to spend my life like an animal! I didn't want to be an "attraction", I wanted to be elite. I wanted everyone to know that I AM THE MAN. I was, I am, and I always will be THE man. But you? You're docile in behavior, you're every child's favorite luchadore. You're every child's role model here in EAW. But guess what? No matter how many shirts you sell, it still doesn't translate to your happiness. No matter how many little kids you impress, it still doesn't translate to your confidence. And, no matter how hard you try in that ring, and the last Voltage made it evident, it still doesn't translate to your success...

And so, I ask you right now to do me a favor. This come Sunday, let's not fight. Let's rejoice. I'll allow you to repent before the Version One. I'll allow you to be like all the victims that have fallen to my grasp, and become a disciple. It all starts with the mask, and it's time that it comes off... PERMANENTLY. And after, and only after can you kneel to my feet. Only after will you realize your true potential in life to be elite. To be Version One. 

Valiente Wyvern, you're lost. 
Only the Version One can save you. 

[ltr](Cameras unravel towards an MMA octagon as Cleopatra is shown competing against another female MMA Fighter. After ten seconds has flew by, Cleopatra easily decides to KO her opponent, ending the match swiftly. Her ego and cockiness doesn't allow her to celebrate with supportive fans. So she decides to take a quick hike outside the ring until "Fear" by Lecrae song plays and the Heart Break Boy emerges out onto the ramp in front of Cleopatra. She is shocked as many fans give out a loud mix-reaction. They begin chanting "MMA" back and forth, opposing wrestling to their style of action. Cleopatra has no choice but to back up into the octagon ring again while HBB holds a microphone in an calm matter. He shakes the hands of the ring officials as they stand in the corner, watching and confused with the situation going on.)


HBB: Cleopatra. How you doing, sister?  


(Cleo shakes her head in displeasure)


HBB: Oops, I'm sorry, almost forgot.... How are you faithful MMA fans doing?
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


(They begin their chants again along with "Wrestling is Boring" amongst many phrases)


HBB: Come on, now this is no competition. I do compliment the hard work, effort and time that fighters put into these occasions along with brain concussions and thus. However, wrestling is no push-over sport. We shed blood, sweat, tears and time away from our families to entertain you. We also put our bodies on the line as a living sacrifice to make your hearts comfortable or glad. You should shed the same respect towards us just like you do your specialists.  


(The crowd commends HBB's respect but some of them continue cat-calling during his speech)  


HBB: Now... the reason that I'm here is for some simple business opportunities. This lady right here... my sister... (HBB points at Cleopatra) is an unrighteous, cock-head, and hyprocrital big mouth.  


(Cleo steps toward HBB)  


HBB: I'm saying that out of truth. You can't get mad, Cleo. You are the one who planted a seed that almost cultivated me in half. You are the one who almost teared my soul apart and left it in hell alongside the rest of the hypocrites. Most importantly, you are the one who caused for me to placed in that hospital bedroom.... again. Yeah, I heard you loud and clearly, sister. So why not pay these MMA officials backstage to make an appearance to steal your show like you tried to steal MINE?  


(Cleopatra is confused as she snatches the microphone from an official)  


Cleo: Are you an idiot???? Or just stupid??? I tried to encourage your sorry *** but you failed yourself. Now you want an excuse for getting man-handled by Dark Demon?? What... are you ashamed of yourself that you have to pick on me? Get a life. I heard that you're fighting for a return, well good luck... I want no part in it. You can fall flat on your face again... and again.... and again.... again.... all you want. Just don't come back crying to me for anymore advice.  


HBB: No need for that, sister. And I'm not the type of guy to make a string of excuses. I've always admit to the better man on a given night. But if you actually LISTENED, you could tell that I'm not speaking about matches. There's no question that my skill level is still subpar to most in this business thanks to God.  I can still run through a list of folks that have tasted Goldprint and I'm pretty sure there's many others who would die for a chance to compete against me one-on-one. I'm not talking about talent. I'm not talking about returns and disappoints. I'm speaking on character. You knew how faithful I was to Christ. You knew that I was trying to live a life of the living God. And yet, you weaseled your way like a serpent to distract me from what I was doing. Before I met you... I was just doing fin---


Cleo: Doing fine? What?! You just got embarrassed at Pain for Pride 8, a stage that you helped elevate with legendary moments like your classic matches with Starrstan and Extreme Enigma along with the controversial CITV match, also being able to retire CM Banks. Now you have stooped low into a hardly fought match against a man that couldn't defend a title by himself even if I really believed God existed and a girl that I have defeated many, various, continuously throughout my career. You needed me to push your limits, which you did but still came up short. Now you're back into this blue-balls state that even hurts my genitals sometimes.  


HBB: Again, you bring up my EAW career like my falls are supposed to matter to me. Look around the EAW roster, most people have had their downfalls, their misses and hits. You're no different either, Cleo, especially after getting embrassed by the Lyndivias sisters until I had to come back and silence them. You're no different... Everyone has their moments and one thing I say to you and everyone who looks down upon me: Don't forget where you came from. Humble yourself, and stop worrying about things that shouldn't really matter to you. Instead, bring life to the person and encourage them to do better. You haven't and changed me into this vile person that thought of himself as a "King." There is only one KING that I should have been looking unto. And it will be that way until the day I will decrease. I have punished folks enough, even the EAW management. They have given me ample chances to return and reestablish my fallen career. They have even offered me with yet another chance because they know I'm not done. Even when I have tired to rid of the things that spark my passion for the business of wrestling, somehow, someway....it was denied. Nobody wants to see the Heart Break Boy lose his smile because they know me. But God knows me better. This is why he placed an opportunity for me to come back and wrestle with my difficult vision. Throughout life, there are many trials set forth. Jesus mentions it in his Word. There will be many tests. Satan tested Jesus in the desert. There will also be many people not wanting you to prevail. Many people persecuted Jesus even after death. As I look around EAW now, I can see a few. I can also name and have heard a few. But gossip is not something I can respond to. I just leave it how it is and find joy to continue on having one of the best jobs I've ever had behind ministering for Christ.  


(Suddenly someone from the crowd is escorted into the octagon as HBB looks stunned while seeing another half of his twin daughter; Hayden Alea standing next to Cleopatra as they hug each other.)


Cleo: I almost forgot to mention... Hayden Alea is staying with me now. She couldn't the keep reliving the misery of seeing her father fall like a convicted murderer serving a death sentence.  


HBB: That's fine. She is old enough to make her own decision, which is pretty sad that should be staying with anyone.  


(Hayden Alea steps in front of HBB's face and smacks him boldly as Cleopatra laughs behind her. She even snatches the microphone away from him as his face stalls.)


Hayden Alea: Dad.... I'm sorry to admit but I hate you. Not just one thing but EVERYTHING! From your religion; THERE IS NO WAY YOU SHOULD LOVE GOD MORE THAN ME! From your time spent losing a lot of matches in the fourth quarter in your EAW career. And most of all, you just make me miserable. I have even came to like mom better than you. Actually, I don't like you at all. You led me to get my throat slit by one of your best buddies. You led me to believe that you are capable of winning. And yet again, you disappoint me, not only as my hero but as a father. Now leave us alone.  


(HBB angrily grabs the microphone from her possession and stares into Alea's eyes)


HBB: That did hurt me a just a little, daughter. But just like I said, you're old enough to do what you want to do. Nonetheless, I'm still going to love God more than my family. Sadly, you fail to see that I wouldn't even know who the hell you were if God didn't create me first or allowed the devil to take me out. There's no way, I will stop loving the Man that repaired my vision and allowed for me to help and shelter you throughout these years. I still love you very much.... but how are you doing to talk about my career when you don't even have one? You live off my credit. You live off my bank statement. How are you doing to oppose me with your mother or Cleopatra? Without me, Cleopatra wouldn't even be standing in this octagon, even less being inducted into the EAW Hall of Fame, which she clearly shouldn't be in!  


Cleo: Why shouldn't I be in the Hall of Fame?


HBB: Because you're just an experiment that deceives and an harmful present to the past. You only entered the Hall of Fame because maybe every male secretly had a crush on you. The sad part is, some people probably still do even knowing the truth behind the scenes. You have taken many breaks, non-competitive bouts as well. Cameron Ella Ava has single-handedly shown why she is better by consistency and the will to never quit.


(Cleopatra starts getting agitated with the truth)


Cleo: Okay... stop! What do you want, HBB?!


HBB: I just wanted to let you know but now since my daughter is out here too... I want you both to know that you should not come close to me unless you want to be on the same accord. I'm going to finish what God called me to do and move on. I don't want any of your distractions or mess to be involved. And if I fail... well... that's just on me and something God will have to deal with. However, I'm making a retribution to come back harder than I ever had in my career. Now I can leave you, two, alone.


(HBB slowly leaves the ring until Cleopatra draws him back in for a handshake, which HBB hesitantly takes.)  


Alea: What?! Cleo, don't shake his hand! Don't shake his hand! He's a coward! I thought you understood that when I told you---  


(Out of nowhere, the Heart Break Boy sends a Goldprint into the jaw of his own daughter Hayden Alea. He stares down at her lying unconscious on the mat as the crowd cheers HBB on. Cleopatra stands in the corner in disbelief of his actions and at the same, amused by it. HBB kneels down for a goodbye kiss on his daughter's cheek as cameras dismiss into a commercial.)[/ltr]

Bullshit. Total bullshit

That’s what was Territorial Invasion was. Team Crash was screwed from the start and it’s all because Rhaegar decided to stab us all in the back just to prove a point and get a little relevancy. Relevancy that a jackass like him does not deserve! Last Saturday was meant to be a night to celebrate. A night where Dynasty Wrestling came to an end. A night where I was supposed to shine!  TI was my opportunity to move up and represent EAW. To show everyone that I could step up and be “the man”. That opportunity was taken from me and when the event was over I was not sure if I would be faced with such an opportunity ever again. However, after receiving a phone call from our General Manager, Ashten Cross and finding out the card, I have been proven wrong in my assumption. Breaking news, folks! Brian Daniels, the now undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the world, the man who can proudly walk around backstage with two championships hanging over his shoulders, will now have yet another honor to cross off of his bucket list as he will get to stand in the ring opposite to the one and only Scott Oasis. I know what some of you might be saying right now, you're probably thinking “Haven’t you two faced before on Showdown?” and I am more than ready to respond. You see, the Scott Oasis he faced was just another big guy with little experience, a young gun with the ink on his EAW contract still fresh and who was just starting to get his feet wet. Since then, look at what I have done! I have taken a name that nobody knew and built a brand around it, a brand that has been associated with success and the destruction of all of its opposition, a brand that stands on it's own. I don't need Zack Crash, I've done fine these past few months, even before he stepped into the picture and now that he has fallen off I will continue to do fine without him!

I suggest all of you take Brian Daniels little dissection of me as a competitor with a grain of salt, it contained nothing but foolish statements. One which stood out to me was the question he made in an attempt to call e out on my affiliation with Crash. He asked me when was I going to put down my tie and pick up a championship. First off, I want to say that I was never one of those yes-men in suits to begin with, he made a few good points and Dynasty was taking away time from much more deserving and as for picking up a championship,  it's only a matter of time. I just need to go back to picking up wins and that unfortunately starts with you. If there's one good thing that I can take away from my allegiance to Zack Crash it is being confident in your capabilities. When you know you can accomplish something, you don't need to waste time by building to it, you go out and get it done. He knew he could run EAW and you know what he did? He took it over. That's exactly what I'm going to do. My ascent to the top will reach it's conclusion, no matter who EAW management tries to throw my way, I'll take them all out.

I don't need to find any greatness from within, my greatness has been made known for a while now. My full potential has been reached and there's no longer any doubt about me being the cream of the crop. This isn't veteran versus rookie like it was last time Brian, I'm on your level just as much as someone like Starr Stan or Devan Dubian.  I am not going to treat this as if it is some sort of do or die situation because it's not. Honestly, this is just another day at work for me. I understand that you're riding high after your match with Alex Anderson and feel as if you are one of the best in the world, so like you said, why would you allow me to halt the hype train? The thing is, you won't be allowing me, I'll be forcing it to a screeching halt myself.

History only repeats itself when people are too stupid to learn from it.