The Jostens Center, home of the final EAW Live Event of the year, was filled with irate and displeased fans. Some were having a good time, enjoying the matches that took place early on in the night. The show opened up with a few good tag team and single bouts. As the night was nearing the main event, where a massive celebration the likes EAW has never seen would take place, the audience were seen hoisting unique man made signs in the air. The atmosphere in Lake Buena Vista was very hazardous, extra security being brought out as Agustin’s Court was seen making their way down the ramp. The arena erupted in malicious animosity at the very sight of them, the fans recalling what they had done to dethrone the beloved PRW Dixie Lanford. The Armada was nowhere to be seen, probably prepping the man of the hour in the back. Each one took a position at ringside, fully alert in case anyone decided to crash the party. The squared circle was decorated royally for tonight’s occasion, with a few huge picture frames of Gates in each corner and a throne in the heart of the ring. On the throne were the following: an extravagant crown and scepter, and a wooly purple royal cloak. There was a burgundy carpet over the canvas, with AG’s golden initials near the throne.

So many had dreaded this evening for some time, many really wanting to end the year off on a high note and not a bummer. The way Gates had stole the PRW Undisputed Champion from his childhood friend kept Dixie’s fans up at night, making it difficult for them to digest any of their meals. And now Gates was on his way out to rub in his tainted victory before 2016 bid everyone adieu. With cameras being pointed on three of PRW's youngest talents, the crowd couldn’t seem to name an individual who could dethrone The Bane of Professional Wrestling. With the hefty weapons at his disposal, the EAW Universe feared 2017 would be a year of toxic memories. When the audience thought things couldn’t get any worse, they jeered at the sight of Doug Smith rising out of his seat with a microphone in hand. One of Agustin’s closest friends actually looked decent tonight, wearing an expensive tailored suit which Gates personally bought for him. Clearing his throat on the microphone, hoping it would silence the incensed audience, Doug simply laughed to himself as he shook his head as the crowd boomed with more animosity.

Smith: Show respect Florida! Don’t realize who your eyes have laid on?!

Silencing the arrogant commentator of PRW, the fans chanted “BRUNSWICK IS BETTER THAN YOU!’ as loud as they could, which truly rubbed Doug the wrong way.

Smith: If Brunswick is so good, how come he wasn’t knighted earlier tonight?

That line definitely briefly quieted the crowd.

Smith: Oh you didn’t know? Earlier tonight, his Majesty knighted yours truly on his official website!

This cued the audience to defend the absent Josh Brunswick with every fiber in their being, booing a crazed chuckling Smith. Steven Maximum and Elijah Dynamite both walked over to Doug, at the same time keeping a look out for their brother’s haters in the sea of wrestling fans. When the dynamic duo approached the hyena of a man, Steven whispered in Doug’s ear probably telling him to stay with the script and keep the show rolling.

Smith: Right. Of course. *clearing his throat* A couple of years back in PRW, a prophecy was uttered before you. Direct your eyes to the titan tron to see what I’m referring to.

Quote :

OOC: Please listen to the song while reading this quote.

Alice: Yes Reese, I REALLY DID IT! I’M THE CYANIDE CHAMPION! I literally beat a former X-Division Champion in Jesse Drive. I wish you could have seen it.

In her locker room, The Dirty Little Thing Alice Harris was jumping with glee, talking on the phone with her best friend The Iceman Reese Lynch. The Iceman was on tour with a few other stars of PRW, bringing awareness to fight for a cure for Breast Cancer. Meanwhile, Alice was coming off a big victory in her young career, obtaining her first ever championship in the company. While she continued to relay the information about the exciting night to her BFF, she couldn't quite take her eyes off the Cyanide Championship in her other hand, biting down on her bottom lip beginning to get a bit emotional. For some time, The Dirty Little Thing was down in the gutters from the fact that she couldn't beat a Hall of Famer, in Sherri Taylor, in her first ever pay-per-view match, always being reminded when she went on PRW.com. But three days ago wiped that all away.

Alice: Alright, I’ll talk to you later Reese. Remember to take pictures please. Yeah, I love you too. Bye bestie.

Pressing on the red icon on her iPhone, Alice hung up the call, tucking the phone away in her back pocket.

Agustin: I think that belongs to someone else Senorita.

With a jerk, Alice turned towards the entrance of her locker, her eyes bugging out as she caught sight of The Majestic One Agustin Gates. The young stud was leaning his back against the side of the door, both hands tucked in his khaki jeans, dressed really fancy seeming like he came from a hot date. Agustin kept a cool expression on his face, seeming like he wasn't in the mood to start any trouble. Alice clenched her newly won championship with both hands, noticing Gates’ eyes making their way on it, and coolly stepping away from the door. When Alice caught sight of EAW’s Prince Charming grabbing a hold of a black chair, The Dirty Little Thing raised her title in battle, ready to duke it out with her predator, not planning to lose the championship so soon.

Agustin: Relax little thing. I’m not here to fight……….yet.

Alice: *not lowering her guard for one second* So what are you here for?

Agustin: *sitting on the chair, and crossing his right leg over his left* To talk. Well also, I’m here on important business. And before you get all feisty with me, let me first congratulate you on winning the Cyanide Championship. Especially against the likes of Jesse Drive. I hate the guy with a passion, especially not forgiving him for what he did to my father. But you beat him, and was awarded with the very title you hold in your puny hands. A frail thing like yourself is actually a champion in my kingdom.

Alice: Excuse me? Your kingdom?

Agustin: Yes my dear. My kingdom. I rule over PRW. But some don’t see that way because I don’t hold THE championship in PRW. And let’s keep this between you and I shall we? I’m going to do everything in my power to become Undisputed Champion before my dear older brother, Carlos Cruz. Yes I want the X-Division Championship, knocking Takato’s head right off his shoulders. But a king needs the right crown to be a leader, no, A RULER of a weak and feeble kingdom. And Mark Graves isn't that man.

Alice: *one brow raised* And you are?

Agustin: *smirking up at Alice* I knew you were a smart little girl. Yes me. The Majestic One Agustin Gates is PRW’s rightful ruler, and future king. It’s not Aries, Ace, Logan, Sylvia Wrath, and never will be Mark Graves.

Alice: So what do you want with me then?

Agustin: I’m glad you asked babe.

Alice: Don’t call me babe.

Agustin: *chuckling lightly* Forgive me my dear. Sometimes my Tony Stark persona takes over. Hence why many call me Iron Man.

Alice: *annoyingly rolling her eyes* Oh brother. Someone please shoot me. Shoot me now.

Agustin: But to answer your question Alice. I came to you with an offer. An offer that will change your life for the better. An offer, that will make you even more prestige than Sherri Taylor.

Alice: What kind of offer?

Agustin: An offer of becoming the queen of the future ruler of PRW. Be by my side, as we BOTH bring down PRW from the ground up. Building up a new company in OUR image! No longer will short-sighted homo-sapiens dictate our careers. No longer will we be their pawns in entertainment, for people who don’t even deserve to be in our presence in the FIRST PLACE! Alice, you and I together can forge a sanctuary that many will beg to be a part of. A sanctuary that together, WE’LL RULE WITH IRON FISTS! So what do you say my future queen?

Catching her guest completely off guard, Alice burst out in a heckled laughter, with tears pouring down her small tender cheeks, bending over with both her arms wrapped her waist. The Cyanide Championship was still in her possession, tightly held at her side, continuing to fill the room with her boisterous laughter. She lifted her head up, noticing The Majestic One uncrossing her legs, leaning forward in his seat, his face completely overwhelmed with bewilderment. The look itself made Alice chuckle even more louder, her face turning bright red from the energy she was utilizing. Agustin was looking at both his sides, trying to figure out what had made The Dirty Little Thing lose her nerve.

Agustin: WHAT’S THE MEANING OF THIS?!

Alice: *gasping for air, while trying to regain her composure* Wh-What did you put in your drink th-this morning? Because I think you’re d-drunk right now little man. Did you practice th-this all in front of your mirror? HA HA HA HA HA! You've got to be kidding with me. Who in their right mind would even think about associating with you?! I would literally shoot-

CRACK

All of a sudden, Agustin stormed out of his seat, bolting straight to Alice and knocking her right on her back with a lethal Dethroned (Discus Clothesline)! Gates menacingly glared down at The Dirty Little Thing, his eyes burning with hatred, showing the viewers at home a glimpse of the malicious thoughts that were running through his sick mind. Gates leisurely unbuttoned his black blazer, his eyes never abandoning his hurting prey.

Agustin: I've heard enough! Babe, you thought what I said was some kind of childish joke? I don’t joke. I’m not Bubsey, PCS, or even your little pet Reese Lynch. I will be PRW’s future ruler. With or without you as my queen. On second thought Ms. Harris, keep being your *performing air quotes* “best friend’s” eye candy. Because I know in PRW, there’s a woman who wants a real man. A man that possesses the looks, physique, and power to dominate a company with just his two mere fists. So yeah, you’re dismissed.

Rolling onto her chest, Alice grunted in pain as she began to crawl away from her looming guest, fearing the worst. Her grip never once released the Cyanide Championship, mentally pleading for someone to actually come and rescue her from the advancing Gates.

Agustin: *methodically following Alice* Hmmm, an actual damsel in distress? I've always wanted to know how they look like in real life. If this was one of the fairy tales I was read at a younger age, I would have leaped into action, slaying the minacious beast trying to harm the young lady. Sadly this is the real world. And I’m not your prince in shining armor. I’m the guy who wants to give you what you've been begging for, since you first laid eyes on me.

Alice: *grumbling while still feeling the effects of AG’s clothesline* Someone please help me. Anybody.

Agustin: *peeling his shirt off his body, continuing to follow Alice* Sorry babe, but we’re alone. And that’s for the best. I’m not into what people call gang banging or three ways. Even though multiple women have offered themselves to me. I think it would only be fair if one by one, women could have a taste of what a REAL man would feel and taste like. Don’t you agree Alice?

Suddenly, Agustin grabbed a handful of Alice’s hair, forcing her to stand on her two feet. Releasing a shriek, The Dirty Little Thing dropped the Cyanide Championship, feeling Agustin wrapping his right hand around her small neck. He started choking her, slowly bringing Alice’s face up to his, a sly smile gradually forming. He cocked his head side to side, watching as tears flowed down Alice’s eyes, her hands scratching at his arm and chest, doing her absolute best in trying to free herself. With a roar, Agustin swung The Dirty Little Thing into the lockers, filling the room with a huge clatter of flesh and metal connecting. Alice’s head and back bounced off the lockers with a jolt, staggering ahead with her head hung in dizziness.

Keeping the pressure going, with both hands The Majestic One grabbed Alice’s hair, wildly swinging her into the chair he previously was sitting on. The chair and Harris awkwardly bent, with The Little Dirty Thing’s body pleading for the punishment to finally end. She rolled away from the chair, arching her back with burning agony coursing through every part of her being, her eyes tightly shut not realizing Agustin was coming her way.

Agustin: No one else to blame for this, but yourself babe. I tried to make your life better. A life that Reese, who continues to chirp about his easy peasy victory over Suerte, will never give you in his wildest dreams. You don’t intend to be the queen of PRW’s Majesty? Well then, I see no further use of you Alice. And the Cyanide Championship? Well that never belonged to you from the beginning. I’ll be taking it off your hands now.

Without having to break a sweat, Agustin once again lifted Alice off the floor, with one hand tightly wrapped around her already reddish neck. Nuzzling his nose against Alice’s, Agustin used his free hand to wipe a few strands of hair away from her face, later rubbing a tear off her cheekbone.

Agustin: *whispering* Don’t ever laugh at me again.

In an instant, Agustin positioned Alice perfectly for a sickening move, glancing to his right to see a table covered with beauty supplies. Roaring with intensity, Maverick sent Harris sailing in the air, sending her crashing into the table with a nasty Adieu (Uranage). Grabbing her by one leg, Agustin dragged the Cyanide Champion out of the debris, his head facing the entrance.

Agustin: You may come in now.

Walking into the room, head hung in disgust and shame, was a PRW official having seen the entire gruesome beat down. Planting his right foot hard against Alice’s burning chest, Agustin snapped at the official, pointing his finger down, indicating for the official to begin the count.


Paris tentatively approached the creep as he provocatively held down Alice for the pin and for her sake alone did a fast count.

ONE, TWO, THREE!

Paris held the title away from Agustin, forcing him to get off of Alice to retrieve it. Gates took the belt from Valentino and headed off while Alice laid on the cold floor. At least there was a witness now.

The painful memory of when Alice became Agustin’s first victim in his path of carnage, stirred some unpleasant emotions within the live crowd. Even though The Dirty Little Thing was no one’s favorite these past years, the way Agustin’s darkside had arrived on the scene still to this very day hasn’t sit right with the female viewers of the company.


Smith: *speaking over the angst crowd* And without further adieu, please rise from your seats and join me in welcoming PRW’s forty-fourth and final Undisputed Champion. HE IS THE MAJESTIC ONE……...AGUSTIN………...GATESSSSSSSSSSSS!







Once Jeremiah’s voice was heard through the PA system, cueing security to be on their toes, an extravagant lamborghini aventador stretch limo appeared from the back and parked on the left side of the stage. The Jostens Center was definitely quaking at the audiences’ intense brutal reception for The Majestic One. Before the doors of the arena was opened, extensive check up was ordered to take place, making sure weapons or any other things that could harm Gates wasn’t being brought in. As much as Management loathed Gates and his peers, they had no choice but to protect their leading man from any harm. When the doors of the limo slid open upward, all four of The Armada strolled out with massive cheesy smiles on their faces. They each were dressed in luxurious and club outfits, looking extra bewitching tonight. And then the Apocalypse became a reality.

Walking out to a storm shower of jeers and flippant comments, Gates proudly raised his newly won Undisputed Champion high in the air once he walked of the limo. In a gold slim fit business suit, Gates was smiling from ear to ear as the crowd continued to bombard his ears with insults waggling his title below the belt with glee. With his Valkyries at his side, Gates proudly made his to the ramp his champion firmly placed on his right shoulder. The Majestic One still couldn’t believe that tonight had arrived. He felt as if this was all a dream, breathtaken by the whole scenery for his celebration. Agustin could recall the night he won his first major World Championship, when he arrived to his personal dressing room, his phone was sounding off uncontrollably. He was all over social media, his family and friends were either congratulating or scolding him, and he was getting all sorts of death threats. Each one made the Bronx native feel like a kid who won the Spelling Bee. Inhaling a huge waft of envy towards him at the bottom of the ramp, which was made to look like a red carpet, Gates yet again rubbed in his corrupted title victory by planting a long passionate kiss on the Undisputed Championship.

After acknowledging his stable mates with a quick nod of the head, Gates and his Armada made their way into the squared circle. Jhene and Mackenzie both wrapped the cloak around their employer, while Helga handed him his scepter, and finally was crowned by Tsundere. Each thing that was taking place before their very eyes, didn’t sit right with the fans still somehow not wanting to leave the building. Once The Armada took their place behind Gates, who contemptuously sat down in his throne, The Majestic One’s theme was cut off the air. Taking a microphone out from inside his blazer, Gates laughed to himself as a spotlight was dropped upon him.

Agustin: You all know what to do. So do it. BOW BEFORE YOUR KING!

Gates laughed without control as the crowd groaned and booed him with hatred, wishing someone from the back would crash the party before things got worse.

Agustin: It’s been two years since I prophesied to you all on what would occur in the near future. And near one of you believed me. You simply laughed and said that I couldn’t wrestle.

Before Gates could go any further, he was silenced with the infamous ‘YOU CAN’T WRESTLE!’ chants.

Agustin: *laughing even harder than before* And yet I’m holding PRW’s richest prize before you all!

That quickly silenced the chants.

Agustin: Takato couldn’t do it in his dreams. Owens certainly couldn’t after two straight tries. Marcus never could even if he played any of the wrestling games out there. And my dear old big brother? For three long years he called himself PRW’s Future Poster Boy, making you all believe his tall tales that he would one day grasp this rich prize. And has he? Never has and never will. But yours truly? I was bred for this business since Genesis. At long last my birthright is where it should be. In the hands of PRW’s rightful heir. Me.

Staring long and hard at PRW’s Undisputed Championship, Gates became absolutely serious as he gazed upon his name plate and the pricey rocks on the front plate. Agustin took hold of his championship with both hands, bringing it close to his model like face for a second time tonight. Keeping the Undisputed Championship close to his face, Gates brought the microphone back up to his lips.

Agustin: Dixie, Alice, Chispa, Owens, Marcus, Aries, Carlito, Parker, LeBlanc, Maxima, and many others have felt my wrath as I mowed down my opposition to claim what was always mine. And in New Orleans, Louisiana you all witnessed that whenever I speak, you best listen or suffer the same fate as good old Dixie Lanford. And speaking of Dixie. *smirking in the camera before him* Get better babe. And don’t fret, you’re forgiven. You can call me for a quicky whenever you want. I know no one man has ever put you in the hospital like I did. Your welcome.

Blowing a kiss to the camera, Gates sat back in his seat.

Agustin: As I did last year, ending twenty-fifteen as the PRW Internet Champion, I’m honored to bid this year as your Undisputed Champion. Ata and Bane seem to want a piece of their king, and dethrone me. But their efforts will prove futile. I WAS BORN TO BE THIS MEASLY COMPANY’S FEARLESS LEADER. I’m going to rule all of wrestling companies on Earth with an iron fist, smashing every woman in my wake at the same time. EAW, I’m here also warning you of your impending doom. On January sixth, I am throwing up a Majestic Open Challenge. I don’t care if Lucian, Senn, Moore, Leonhart, or any other member of the Dynasty comes down that ramp to ATTEMPT in defeating me. What happened last year against a giraffe is irrelevant. From the Verizon Center in Washington, D.C., I will defeat TWO INDIVIDUALS ON THE SAME NIGHT! Sebastian Monroe, do you truly want to bring forth an opportunity for the new generation to challenge you for the EAW Interwire Championship? Well consider me the first to accept that challenge, and the first to dethrone you live on television! I AM THE MAJESTIC ONE! GOD’S GREATEST CREATION! And only thing you all here tonight, and those watching at home should be doing are the following.

Rising from his throne, Gates rose his championship high in the air.

Agustin: BOW BEFORE ME, AND UTTER THESE VERY WORDS! ALL HAIL YOUR MAJESTY, AGUSTIN GATES!

Right away, the stage and ceiling exploded with fireworks as confetti showered upon The Majestic One. His theme once again was played for all to hear, not doing much to drown out the boos and jeers of the live crowd. The Majestic Era had now been ushered been in PRW, and it appeared the young man was going to make sure that era also took place in The Land of the Elites.

Voltage promo #1


Sunday, Location unknown, 8:00 P.M


(The scene opens inside a small, dark, dingy hotel room. It's here that we find Solomon Caine standing by the window, gazing down upon the city streets.)

Caine: "here we now stand stand on this day. The sprit of renewal all but just lifted from this earth. But here and now a claim it for myself. I claim renewal in the purpose I have charged with. I claim renewal in my resolve to carry out each step without wavering, no matter how deplorable the actions I must take, no matter the Amount of flesh that I must rend, no matter the amount of blood that must spill. I renew myself to my masters. I serve them and their purpose, that they may renew this world with the glorious reign that they shall send down to cleanse all that stands upon this earth.

All of the wretched filth that call themselves people. All of the great structures they have cast their eyes upon. All of the works they have built their lives around. Aaaaaalllllll of it shall be stricken down. All of it shall be scattered to the wind. Even the great and might kingdoms of the world, and the armies that they send to their demise without so much as a moment's thought. Men like Kenny Drake, who seek the upon a pile of bones gathered by his soldiers, and already thinks himself a king because they come rushing at the snap of his fingers. Kenny Drake, you are not a great wolf leading a pack. You are but a parasite that sucks away their strength to claim it as your own. Kenny, you may leach away life from those who will follow you into the depths of hell, but when the chosen hour has come, it will not matter how many heads are counted in your den, for you all shall BURN!!! You shall all be turned into dust on the day of the great fire! You shall all weep an ocean's worth of tears as the flames begin to Devore you whole!

That is the faith that you, and all whom bow before you, have been cast to. For you Kenny, you like so many others have become addicted to adulation, and worship. Addicted to being served upon, and having you ur whims carried out with the snap of you fingers. Your ego and vanity have lead you down this path you have chosen. It is what has made you to form your pack, and it is what has made you to declare your bid for the King Of Elite. I say to you now Kenny that sooner than you think, they shall show you and the rest of the wicked filth what true power is. They shall break your body, and leave it scattered to the wind. They shall wash their feet, in a river of your blood. They shall take from you the power you hold over the soldiers you command, and with it they shall use them for their own purpose. And any who would try to defy them, shall be trampled under their feet, on the day of the glorious reign. For they have sent me to claim this kingdom for them, for it is what they desire. With it they shall command the attention of the world and spread the message of Their coming.


Hear me now when say that I seek not my own power, or honor, or glory. I look not to be exulted and adorned with good and jewels. I look not to send those who serve to their untimely end. I only seek the glory of the ones who have sent me, for only they can save me, only they can spare the world, and only they can stand as judge over the lives men. They don not leave those who serve helpless, to be slaughtered. No, they grant strength to those who obey their will. Mercy to those who have cast aside the desires brought about by vanity, greed, sickness, and all other forms of weakness that borrow into the Hearts and minds of men and corrupt them into unfathomable horrors as Kenny Drake has become.

Listen well, all whom hope to spare themselves from the unending hell that shall befall this world. Know that one man may not stand upon another, and hope for salvation. For no man can claim the works of another, none shall bind themselves to another strength, and none shall hold himself as a god to another, and not be made into cinders and ash on the appointed day.

So Kenny Drake bring yourself forth And lay yourself upon the altar. Your sacrifice shall be a one that is well deserved. Your decimation shall be quick. For your quest to make yourself a king, is the one that end when the ones who are sending me, pour out their wrath upon you, and show the world that your are not an alpha wolf, but a worker ant who shall be crushed under their feet. You are not a man who will lead his followers to salvation, but a worm who will ensure their demise. A most certainly not a king who would rule with an iron fist, but an imposter who will hang from the gallows till the end of ages!


This is the words of those who have sent me, the ones who are truly worthy of being called kings. They have commanded, and it must be so!"


(The shot hang for a long moment before fading out.)

The end.

(The scene opens up to a family of four lounging in their living room watching numerous content from
the EAWNetwork.,As soon as the family made their selection on what match they would like to relieve the tv screen automatically went to static! The father of the family tries to go to different matches and different content on the Network but gets the same static result every time. As the father slowly reaches his phone the static instantly went away and in it's place was Marco Fedor, "dressed" in a suit (informally) and to the right of him was his mother dressed in revealing clothing and right behind them were individuals in suits but with wolf masks covering their faces. Marco Fedor slightly licks his lips and fixes his hair with his pinky fingers to make sure he looks good for the cameras.)

Ladies and Gentlemen and boys and girls of many ages, don't be alarm because this is your hero! Marco Fedor!! I just want to bring in the New Year of 2017 with a message. As you all have seen at Road To Redemption you all bared witness of the destruction of my bestie Keelan. That moment was a turning point in my career because I have finally decided to stand up to that bully and cast him aside and showed him that I'm not a person to be messed with. For months and months he has made me look like some poor defenseless and needy fool that can't survive without him. But during our Unsanctioned Match, I've proven that I don't need that man whatsoever. I never needed him to begin with because I knew deep down in my heart that all I need to keep me going is my desire to become the best and my family and people who has inspired me to keep me going! Keelan wanted to feel important, he wanted to feel that he is needed because lets face it, outside of this business Keelan is nothing but a piece of shit so it's natural for him to gravitate towards a new guy like me who has broken into this business. He wanted to be a father figure to me, he wanted me to stay attached to him until he couldn't use me anymore. But I stood up to that parasite and I've destroyed him. But enough about that man because Keelan is dead to me....*winks* That man is no longer in my life and I made sure that he won't be getting back up anytime soon. Now the reason why I've decided to interrupt your broadcast is because I have a very important issue that I want to address and that's to rectify whatever misconception on my "loss" to my former friend because it seems to me that not everyone understands what an Unsanctioned match is. Which I don't blame you because it seems the people commentating the match has fed false information to the viewers at home and thank goodness my lawyers have contacted me about it because I wouldn't have noticed the blunder of the workers here. As you know an Unsanctioned Match is basically a street fight among two men, there are no pinfalls, no countouts, no DQ, NO NOTHING! Which I'm sure that all of you know that since it was greatly emphasized what you would be watching and also what I was getting into when I made Keelan accept that match. But what you probably didn't know is that an Unsanctioned Match ISN'T! An official match, both Keelan and I have signed away our souls and EAW bares no responsibility if something ever happened to one of us. If you're were watching the Road To Redemption Pay-Per-View then you know that Keelan was named victorious after the referee got involved and called off the fight. So if you have been following along ladies and germs then you see where I'm getting at because that victory Keelan has over me was nothing but a hollow one which means in the record books I'm STILL 1-1 with him WHICH MEANS HIS WIN DIDN'T COUNT NOR DID IT MATTER BECAUSE THE MAN WHO WON AT THE END OF THE DAY WAS THE MAN THT WAS ABLE TO WALK OUT ALIVE AFTER THAT MATCH!!!!! MEEEEEE!!! So all of you die hard Keelan fans who rejoiced the very moment he kicked my ass and whatnot and said that I needed him to carry my career...ask yourself this. What did Keelan really accomplish in that fight against me?? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING NOT A GOD DAMN THING!! He staked his pride, he staked his name in that match and tried his fucking best to destroy me. He tried  so hard to live up to his Killer Persona and his preconceived notion that I was this weak and pitiful boy who couldn't put up a fight against him. But look where it gotten him at the end of the day? It got him hung and not in a perverted way either that man literally got killed by me and I'm more than proud of my brilliant plan coming together to rid of an arrogant man who was truly been bullying me and trying to condition my brain that I couldn't live without his guidance and his friendship.  So for those who has been by me and who has been praying for my safety don't you worry because I vanquished the evil villain in Keelan and just like the storybooks the hero always win at the end! So I want to wish you all a wonderful New Year because 2017 will be a fabulous year for The White Wolf. Long Live Wolvesden and that is just Too Sweet!

(Marco's mother kisses her son on the cheek in approval of his speech and then you see Marco and company holding up the "Too Sweet" gesture as the screen quickly went to static and right back to the EAWNetwork Home Page.)

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, virgins and non-virgins, I am the leader of the new generation, the prince of trash talk, the person with class and last but not the least, the man who gives no shits, Mike Showman. Today is the first day of the New Year 2017 and while many of you low life buffoons have wasted your time drinking, shitting, fucking and making resolutions that you will forget once this day is over, I assure you that I too was drinking but along with that I was also chalking out plans to ensure my progression in Voltage and EAW as a whole. You see, last year was kind of a mixed bag for me because even though I won some one on one matches and also had impactful appearances in important multi man matches at special events and pay per views, all those ended with me winning fuck all and I do not like it when that happens. But yes, even though I won fuck all, my performances in those matches were better than all those other stupid sons of bitches who were also a part of those matches. The same sons of bitches who have half the talent that I do but even then are considered to be ‘hot newcomers’ in this company with many ‘experts’ even claiming that they are the guys who will lead this company in the future just because they have some achievements beside their names like ‘top prospect’ or ‘number one contender to the new breed title’. You know, I always considered these experts to be scandalous gay men who enjoy their dick getting sucked and today it is proved once again because any ‘future hot prospect’ list that does not contain the name of the leader of the next generation purely a scam. Yes, I may not have achievements but like I said, I have performed better than the men who hold those ‘achievements’ and to be honest, what the fuck have those achievements done for those men anyways? I mean, Maero won the ‘top prospect’ award but he is back in his usual place inside the ass of Eclipse coming out occasionally when old crazy needs a blowjob. Lars became the ‘number one contender’ for the New Breed Championship but I am sure that fatty will fart his way out of the title picture very soon. But yes, truth be told, I don’t need a fucking list because as I said, I am the leader of the new generation of wrestlers in EAW. I am the man who continues to usher in a changed era in EAW by eliminating the old and rusty concepts and I will continue to do so in 2017. Also, I will make sure that all who do not accept this new era will be forced to bend down and kiss my boots and just as they are about to do that, I will give them a kick so hard that right from the next day, they will be shitting their entire set of teeth one by one.

Now for a guy like me who likes to put boots to asses, there is no better way to start off the New Year than by competing in a match and that too in the first round of the King of the fucking Elite tournament against JD Damon. Now for those of you who don’t know, this is the same guy I pinned in the Top Prospect match I was talking about to become the top prospect for quite some time and so in other words, you can say I made him my bitch. So, hello there bitch, how do you do? You know JD, you should be proud that you are my bitch because quite frankly, that is a huge achievement in your otherwise mediocre career. You can write it down in your resume, “I was Mike Showman’s bitch” that will shine brighter than anything you have ever managed to achieve. You can even print shirts and other merchandise with that sentence on it and it will sell instantly thereby giving you more money then you will ever make by fighting battles you cannot win inside the ring. Wait Mike, what did you say? Fighting battles I cannot win? Well of course JD because when was the last time you actually won a match on your own? Wait, better question, when was the last time you were actually relevant on your own? To be honest, finding the mythical city of Atlantis or revealing the true secret of the Bermuda triangle and also, understanding girls would be much easier than finding crap about you. But yeah, even if someone is willing to do it, they must wait until Voltage because after our match is done, I will bury you deeper and move to the second round of this tournament. After Voltage, the degree of your irrelevancy will increase and maybe after that your dominatrix Kenny Drake will finally come to his senses and deliver his ‘punishments’ to the newest dick in your group Marco Fedor and throw you out for good. Either way bitch, Sunday is the day I win and you lose and I believe that is simplest explanation you will ever get as to what is going to happen when we face inside the ring.

I don’t get this whole idea about you underestimating your own self PB....

I don’t get it...I really don’t...

You may be feeling broken, you may be feeling battered, and you may be feeling shatered, but at the same time, it has toughen you up hasn’t it? It makes you an unstopable force isn’t it? It makes you that special someone isn’t it? Some bad things might have happened to you last year, but some good things did happen to you didn’t it? I remembered watching you for the first time in February 2015 when you were still a happy kid running around in the backstage and one year later, just one year later, you finally won your first National Elite Championship on February 2016 at Rising Tide. I have said it before and I’ll say it again, if not because of annoying and shenanigans actions from the dummies, you may be holding the Answers World Championship AND the National Elite Championship on both of your shoulders right now.

Which lead me to ask these questions PB, how could Tonny Rolland, The Heart Break Boy, and perhaps Brian Daniels be dissapointed at you if you have done nothing but good things? Why do the fans still supporting you and giving you positive reactions everytime you come to the ring if you have done nothing but good things? Why do I respected YOU in such an admirable way so much if you have done nothing but good things? It’s because you are someone who have the heart, passion, and respect for this bussiness. I don’t think you have lost any of your codes, after all you want me to be your first slice to be back on the top. See? You still have those flames in your heart. You still have the spirits in your vein and I really respect that. I know what you’re capable off and I know you can beat me in every single ways. You obviously deserves to be on the main event scene. As a matter of fact, you EARNED it. You didn’t sit on the coach and waiting for free gifts. You are a man of actions. You take scores and you earned scores. You are definitely the TRUE top dog of Showdown. Your heavy and blody journey is really worth than you ever thought PB. It really makes you that special someone. You are special in the fans’ hearts and you should be proud of it because after all, you are the only one who is holding yourself back.

I mean seriously, you are deluded if you think you are green compared to me. You are deluded if you think I’m a better man than you. You even asked me what should you do about your current situations with Tyler Parker and Lannister What makes you think I’m a better man than you? What makes you think you are green compared to me? What makes you think I can give you an answer to your current situation. I’m the one who is still chasing the dreams. I’m the one who is still in the bottom of the pit. Every dummies can easily say you are the better man between two of us. You even said it yourself that you are not going to be my proving ground. I’m still going to give you an answer though: you can confronted both Tyler and Lanniser or even Damien Murdow like you always did one month ago and back-ward. If you don’t have enough guts to do it, then I’m going to make sure to wake you up by hitting you as hard as I can.

Please understand this, there’s no real hatred, no real beef, and no real animosity between the two of us, but you are clearly not thinking 100% straight and I’m arranging my date with destiny through you. At least I know you are still carrying some spirits in your body. You don’t want to be my proving ground is a proof that you are going to take me seriously. You even going far complimenting me as a good wrestler and a good guy. While I appreciated those comments, I’ll just take it as motivations on my own to beat you in our upcoming match. Well, may the best man win PB, let’s put a smile to these fans and make them proud even more to you...and to me.

I’ll never forget all the motions that I went through leading into that match at Pain for Pride. I’ve been the centerfold of some many stages, but standing against DEDEDE at Pain for Pride was absolutely incomparable to anything that I had done in the past. I always handled pressure well; whether it was when I was first making my way through the doors of the company, or whether I was walking into the biggest matches of my career as the EAW Champion, I never felt the things that I did leading into that one match. For the first time I was nervous. For the first time I held seeds of doubt on whether I actually deserved to be in the position that I was standing in, or whether I was actually good enough to conquer the man that so many people consider the best to ever compete in this business as a whole. From the moment that I walked through the doors of the company I was touted as being the top prospect that this company had to offer - the man that stood at the front of the new generation that controls the ranks of the company now. That one match was the chance to move a mile forward; the step out of the shadow that DEDEDE casted over the company and into a spotlight that anyone else could only dream of stepping into; whether it had been someone taking their first steps in the business; someone moving their way through the ranks of the company, or someone that the rest of the world looks upon as a legend. I said it before I got hurt. I lost before I had even walked through the curtain. I left my blood and sweat; my heart and soul in the middle of that stadium, but as much as I told myself that I would - I was never going to win. I hated it; years of hard work seemed to be for nothing. Falling inches short of grasping onto immortality in this business. Don’t get me wrong, originally my sole intention on this return was to get my hands on the man that placed me on the shelf. I had the plan was walking in, ripping Jamie O’Hara’s head off of his shoulders before setting my sights on taking the big gold belt for myself, but that match is something that’s constantly continued to weigh on my mind. I just… couldn’t let it go.
 
I know - in all, after the things that I did at Road to Redemption and the Awards Show, I'm a sore loser. Pain for Pride broke me in ways that I don't think a whole lot of people are willing to understand - but looking at how things turned out, I’m disappointed. I’m not disappointed in myself or the fact that I lost, but I'm disappointed in the man that once stood against. I've heard the constant stories. There's nothing in this business quite like Methuselah! When the man walks your way, you step aside and let him through - and the people that don't never walk out the same way that they walked in. But, I don't buy it - I've never bought into the entire charade of Methuselah. Just a man who lives off a name; nothing more than something that fools by into.. I've had to watch DEDEDE fall from grace for months. This stems further than just losing the Hall of Fame Championship to Devan Dubian. In all, this has nothing to do with it. Take a look back at the things that I made DEDEDE do when he knew he was walking into Pain for Pride against a man standing on the greatest level in this business. He went away. Sure, he popped in here and there, but his sole focus was making sure that there was no chance that this young upstart would overshadow everything that he had built for himself. He went away and made sure that the legacy that he takes more pride in than any World Championship he's won, or any other accolade that he's been able to grasp onto, wasn't stained by a man that was once never on his fucking radar. The man that stands before the world now, ladies and gentlemen - “Methuselah” isn't close to the man that he was. Methuselah was never an improvement - it was nothing more than regression. You grew complacent. You grew happy in the position that you were undoubtedly crowned. “The Best in the World against The Best Ever” was the worst thing that happened to your career, and the saddest part is that you don't see it. Nobody fucking sees it. They've all bought into the charade! METHUSELAH. THE GAWD. THE MONSTER. WHAT A SIGHT. HE’S THE MAN THAT KILLED THE GUY THAT WAS SLAUGHTERED BY THE BIGGEST FLOP OF A WORLD CHAMPION SINCE DIAMOND CAGE AT PAIN FOR PRIDE NINE. METHUSELAH IS NOT A MONSTER. METHUSELAH ISN’T A GOD. METHUSELAH IS A MAN - AND HE’S A FUCKING WEAK ONE AT THAT. I’M NOT GOING TO STOP… I’m not going to stop until the biggest wrong of my career has been fixed, and if it means that I have to constantly break the shell of what “The Best Ever” is, - then I’ll do it willingly. I would say to watch what I do to Adrian Christ on Dynasty, Ryan, but feeding on a lamb that’s been led to its slaughter, in the grand scheme of things, means absolutely nothing.
 
In all, Ryan - Happy New Year.
 
And I mean that as sincerely as possible.

Dynasty Promo I: Journey Before Destination


(The camera opens up to Kelly Hackenschmidt's residence in Aspen, Colorado as he sits on a couch, wearing a black 100% Certified Schmidthead t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. On the background of the room is a tan wall and a Canadian flag spread out and pinned onto it.)


“Well’p, Christmas is said and done with and the New Year is nearly upon us. Which means we are finally rid of this atrocious year that we call two thousand and sixteen am I right? I mean, if you look back at the calendar; Historians will only say two good things about this year and those are; this was the year The Chicago Cubs finally won the world series after over a century of woe, and nearly a year of grit and determination. And that the trio of Kelly Hackenschmidt, Finnegan Wakefield and Laura Laine became known as The Knights of the Dawning. And sure, while Twenty sixteen was a bittersweet year for me; I feel as though it's about time I stopped slacking off and showed the world exactly what it means when I am called Mister Pure Wrestling. It's not something to brag about when I have to face Lucas deadweight Johnson again but rather something that comes into fruition. You see, next week, I am up against just the right guy to say that I am worth a damn against. And that man goes by the name of Mark Michaels. The Social Media Champion. As he likes to call himself.”


“You see, Schmidtheads, Michaels and I are a lot more like than most people would expect. Yet oddly enough someway, somehow his arrogance meter levels somewhere between me and Ahren Fourier. Now Michaels is no stranger to technical wrestling; of that there is no doubt. He knows the game and how to play it. Yet he seems to think for some odd reason that I’m scared of him. What? Me? Scared? Do you even look me up Michaels, I’m not a man to shy away from combat. Nor am I one to let my full potential be driven away. Now I won't deny the fact that it hasn't exactly been reached just yet; but I know that each and every single step is leading me closer to the top! After all, you know what they say about people who reach rock bottom, there is nowhere to go from there but the top! I may be considered the bottom of the barrel to some of the Dynasty Midcard, yet I’ve gone the distance with Hall of Famers and was literally closer than ever before at getting a chance to bring the New Breed Championship back to Friday Nights, yet I know that each of those opportunities has not ended in my favor! You know, I’m willing to admit that Twenty Sixteen ended on a low note for me; yet I’m glad I’m out of that frying pan, you know why? Because I have a chance to laugh at the face of danger and dive right in! Michaels may very well have the advantage when it comes to physical muscle and strength, yet he does seem to forget that he can't kill what he can't catch.”


“Sure, between you and me Mark, the respect is mutual; I am very well aware that; hold for hold. You’re pretty much one of the few who could legitimately come up and challenge why I call myself Mister Pure Wrestling. You may also have a very competitive edge in muscle, but I am a highly underestimated high-flyer and know the wrestling ring like I know a good Noose lock! Strength may be quite the advantage; yet compared to a near par in technical wrestling, a key advantage in agility and balance alongside a ring awareness that all adds up to say that you are kind of the prey going into this match if I do say so myself. It's like how a tiger hunts down prey almost twice its size yet still ends up eating a nice big chunk of meat as the spoils of war. So Michaels. If you are tired of being underestimated all the time by the likes of V, I suggest you stop underestimating your own opponents and show me exactly what you are capable of! Because some people may think otherwise; But I know I can take the heat of being on EAW’s top! After all my goal for twenty Sixteen was to not settle until I showed that I can hang with the Elite Answer to all pro-wrestling in the world today! Because Michaels, you may know how to turn the page on the script, but that script is the script for your requiem! And every twist and turn is eventually endured by the hero in the end by taking the turns to his advantage and twisting it back into the favor. This shall truly be a test of stamina, a test of endurance, and a test that you shall surely fail!”


“Which brings me to Sebastian Monroe, now, I know you and I barely ever speak over the past few months that I have been on the payroll, but I know for a fact that this opportunity of yours to have young guys from the New Breed division rise up and get a shot at Drake Jaeger for the Interwire Championship is legit. So when you come out to that ring, expect the first entrance music you hear hit to be One Man Army by Ensiferum. Because I know that the time is right for me to step up into the battlefield. Nobody is ever truly ready, that I have known since I came to EAW. Yet I’m not going to be one to let that stop me. If I want to show Mark Michaels that stepping out of my comfort zone is something that I can do, then I know for a fact that I need to show my boss that this little shot you're giving out at the Interwire Champion may very well be just the chance I need to put up or shut up around here! Because come Friday night, I’m going to use Mark Michaels as a way to prove that not only am I ready for a shot at being Interwire Champion, but I know I can beat Drake Jaeger and get that win! Mark Michaels may think he is the hungriest man on Dynasty’s roster; yet on Friday, not only am I going to prove him wrong, but I’ll prove myself right! Rest assured, Twenty-seventeen will be the year of Mister Pure Wrestling! No excuses, No Bullschmidt!”

Time flies, doesn't it? Another year is coming to an end and despite the fact I did everything I set my mind to when the year started, I can't help but feel dissatisfaction and discontent. Because once again I am back at square one. History repeated itself. It's déjà vu all over again. I have nobody to blame but myself really. Maybe I wouldn't feel so much disappointment and frustration in my heart if I would have only failed myself, but I didn't just let myself down, I let everybody down. What seemed to be the biggest success story in the history of this company became the biggest failure story ever told... My seven-year long crusade to become World Heavyweight Champion reached it's climax at the time I yearned for most, in the way I yearned for most, and at the place I yearned for most. I reigned supreme over Dynasty for a few months. I conquered all opposition on the horizon with ease, the total and undeniable dominance I displayed in the ring week in and week out as champion characterized my reign. I was living the dream. But the dream that became a reality at Pain For Pride 9 became a nightmare at House of Glass. All good things must come to an end they say and I agree with that, but I didn't want things to end the way they did. I messed up again, I am a disappointment to everyone including myself. I'm not exactly proud to admit this, but when Jacob Senn stripped me off the World Heavyweight Championship I felt humiliated, I felt embarrassed, more than I ever did before. I guess I was too confident in myself. Maybe successfully defending the title against opponents of the caliber of Diamond Cage and Eclipse Diemos so effortlessly made me conceited in a way. I thought doing the same I did to them against Jacob Senn would be even easier confined within glass walls. I was under the pretense that I would destroy Jacob Senn in seconds time. But he was the one who destroyed me in the moment of truth. He dished out a punishment I was unable to bear. And not just a physical punishment, an emotional punishment as well. I never knew what desperation truly was until that night.  I haven't been the same man I was before House of Glass. That's something the entire EAW universe has noticed. I... I'm in a really dark place right now. It wasn't easy for me at all to come to terms with the fact the dream I devoted my entire life to realizing was over. I've been around for seven years. Every single month, every damn week, every damn day of those seven years all I did was bust my ass. And I did it so I could be World Champion. I still have trouble to assimilate what happened at House of Glass. How could something I worked so hard for, for so long, have been taken away from me in just minutes? To Jacob Senn taking the World Heavyweight Championship from me was like taking candy from a child. I thought the Glass Walls stipulation would benefit me, but it obviously didn't. I made a mistake by thinking Jacob was anything like Diamond Cage or Eclipse Diemos. He is better than most people make him out to be. I found out the hard way. He proved it at House of Glass and he proved it at Road To Redemption. He may be a coward, yeah, but he is still one hell of a wrestler and no one can take that away from him. He promised to thwart my progress and write the final verse of my story as the champion of the world and he delivered. He beat my ass without hesitation and he retained one of the most prestigious titles in the business in an Extreme Elimination Chamber match against Dynasty's finest so hats off to him. Jacob Senn really is the face that runs the place. The empire I spent seven years trying to build was burned into the ground in just one night by him. The World Heavyweight Champion took a lot from me. He left me in a state I have no idea how I am recovering from. I'm vulnerable now more than I ever was before. No matter how many "masks" I put on, no matter how many "disguises" I donned since losing the title, all of that was and is showing. But I'm pulling myself out of this dark place, screw the comfort zone, I am breaking out of it.  I will slay the demons that haunt me once and for all. The events that took place inside the Dynasty Elimination Chamber at Road To Redemption served as a wake-up call for me. That Goldprint I received from The Heart Break Boy made me realize that the time for playing games needs to end. My legacy is in jeopardy right now, my future as an elitist has been compromised. I have already lost enough, I can't afford to lose the opportunity of doing this week in and week out.  I'm done trying to be someone I'm not.  The week of RTR I was desperately trying to find within me the man I once was, the man that won the big one in the main event of Pain For Pride, the man people admired and respected. The only thing I found was misfortune though. All I did was worsen my situation and made it more of a predicament than it already was.  I did more damage than good to Dynasty and Elite Answers Wrestling as a whole. I never had legitimate intentions of hurting this company but I still did. I regret it all and I've paid for what I did, believe me, I have. I messed up bad, I messed up real bad, but I learned from my mistakes. The credibility I once had is gone, the respect I earned from my peers throughout the years is gone and the faith people had in me is gone as well. This may seem like the end but it ain't. Don't write me off just yet. I decide when my end comes. Only I say when it's over. This isn't the first time it has seemed like it is the end for me. I've been down this road before, it's a very curvy road I must say, but as a wise man once told me, straight roads don't make skillful drivers. I know I'm all alone, I am a lone crusader in this war to vindicate my honor and I deserve for things to be that way after all I've done. Alone or not this is a war I am winning. I'll reclaim what I lost, even if it takes me another seven years. Everyone in the chamber at Road To Redemption gave me the fuel I needed for my engine to start. Tasting defeat the way I did rekindled the fire in me. Jamie O'Hara, Methuselah, The Heart Break Boy, Scott Oasis and Jacob Senn, especially Jacob Senn. I have opened my eyes thanks to them. I know what's really at stake now. The odds are stacked against me. It's Lucian Black versus the world just like the old times. Déjà vu all over again, right? Redemption is on my mind. The joy of revenge is the sweetest joy in the world, there is no doubt about that, but revenge will come naturally. Redemption won't.  I promised Jacob Senn there would be hell to pay for what he did to me. It's inevitable that our paths will cross again.  When they do, when the day for us to confront each other comes, he better be prepared for his own sake, because I will deliver on that promise just like he delivered on his. But redemption is my priority right now. The search for what I lost is on. This will be my year.  I'm going back to my roots. I used to say that as long as there was air in my lungs honor would never die... It's time to show the world that honor is not dead, that it still lives and dwells within me.  Life has blessed me with the opportunity to show that on the first Dynasty of 2017. I have the chance to become King of Elite this upcoming year, something I was not expecting. Don't get me wrong, I know I deserve it, I deserve another opportunity, I really think I do, but there's so many young guns coming in these days. I'm still young, yeah, but I am getting older. No clock will stop for me or anyone, they all tick by no matter what. I've said this before when I have gotten other opportunities, but this time it is different, this time I am not saying it just to say it, this time I have a feeling that this could be the last chance I get to become someone in this business. I've been given so many opportunities, opportunities I earned, but I still got so many and I wasted most of them. Nobody believes in me anymore. They're tired of seeing me getting opportunities only to waste them. But I believe in myself. Maybe that is not enough but for me it is. I firmly believe I got what it takes to become who I always thought I could be in the sport of professional wrestling. There's always boulders obstructing the path to greatness. Especially for someone like me who has made so many mistakes in the past.  If you've followed my journey and my story you know that very well. Anthony Leonhart is the first visible boulder standing upon my road to redemption. I'm not entirely sure if I should consider him all that, but I do. See, I have learned not to underestimate my opponents. Anthony could be a rookie, but I've seen rookies do things only long tenured elitists could do before. Anthony could shock the entire world and claim the crown or... he could get punched in the face, speared in half and be the one true king's jester. Being the jester suits him more honestly, but I've been watching Anthony Leonhart. Whenever he steps foot inside a ring he shows great promise, the kid's future seems as bright as the sun. So he could surprise us after all, who knows? What I do know is that from now on I fight my battles as if they were wars. I said I would never settle for mediocrity many times, I will NOT play second fiddle to anybody. I was born to be champion. I know I can do this, hell, I am the personification of EVERYTHING this business should be about, I CAN do this. I'm getting out of this dark place, even if it's crawling, I will get out. If you're expecting to walk into a battlefield, Anthony, I suggest you go  back and watch me beat Scott Oasis' ass at Pain For Pride because you're going to be walking straight into a warzone, son. You want to be king, huh? Well, this is your chance to prove exactly how much you want the crown.

The camera opens to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" being blared through a poorly tuned brass band, as the musical quartet in question stands on a sidewalk in Times Square with a bucket placed in front of them as people begin to file in for the evening festivities.  Pizza Boy passes, flipping a silver dollar in the bucket as he makes his way down the sidewalk through the hustle and bustle of New Year's Eve.

"This year hasn't been a kind one.  It's filled with EAW memories that have been kicked out of my head by the likes of Ares Vendetta.  It's littered with former tag partners and fans that I've let down, that left me high and dry, that gave up hope.  Strewn about are the dashed hopes and dreams of fans and mentors alike.  I've held titles that collected no dust in my possession, I've lost gold that I was never fully cognizant enough to appreciate after long and hard fought bouts.  I've lost a lot this year Nobi.  I've lost respect, I've lost passion, I've lost will to live or try.  I've lost faith in humanity, recoiling at the first twinge of a friendly touch of the hand, only to be proven right in my revile when the same hands laid waste to me.  I've seen the best of us corrupted by greed, avarace, and rage, and I've seen the worst of us stand over the bodies of the best of us.  I've woken up stiff and aching every day.  I've brushed the taste of copper out of my mouth, and muddy chunks of crimson out of my matted hair.  The only solace any of it has given me is knowing that I've survived to live another day...and even that's becoming less of an affirmation to move forward into twenty seventeen."

Pizza Boy stops and watches as a crane raises the New Years Ball slowly into the heavens.  Letting daylight hit his face through the city skyline, Pizza Boy's face looks tired, older, and angry.

"Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should I let sleeping dogs lie? Let the world continue on with backstabbers, crooks, and thieves prospering? Let all grudges die in the new year? start over, start fresh, start with a brand new outlook that isn't so damn nihilistic? Or is it more nihilist to let those emotions and injustices go without quelling?"

Pizza Boy tears his bloodshot eyes away from the New Year's Ball and back down to the camera's lens.

"I'm asking you, Nobi.  I'm asking you because you're a better man than me.  You're built for this sport, you've got the attitude to carry you through.  You've got that drive, that life in you to make it to the top of the heap.  Not only that, but you have the gumption to stay there once you're knocked back down off of the mountain.  Sure, you haven't made it there yet.  You're still one of those blue chip prospects waiting in the wings while a schlep like myself stumbles into the world title picture.  People have said that I'm unrightfully filling a main event spot, that I'm unfit to be where I am on the card because I fell into it out of nowhere.  Sure, I've trained hard to become competent, but you and I both know that in-ring savvy isn't what's gotten me where I am.  Heart, drive, durability, these have all been my hallmarks for success here in EAW but never technique.  You, on the other hand, are a mat wizard unparalleled by most.  What's even more infuriating is the fact that you're built like a brick shithouse.  I'd even argue that you have the same drive, determination, and love for this sport that I had at one point but that doesn't change the fact that you've never been where I've been have you? You've never held the National Championship twice, you've never lain hands on the Answers World Championship, and or the life of me I can't recall exactly when you popped into the game but I'm almost certain that you and I started from the same exact ground zero point of origin on the EAW timeline.

  So tell me, Nobi.  Why am I here, at the top, on the prowl in the spotlight while you continue to be that blue chip prospect that's never really cashed out?  I don't ask out of arrogance, I don't ask out of entitlement, I ask from a genuine existential place of curiosity.  I'm a shrimp compared to you.  I'm green compared to you.  When it comes to looks...well...let's not be too rude to me here, but I'm sure I've been brushed aside in an airport by more than a few young ladies sporting your t-shirt.  I don't say that from a place of jealousy.  I've accepted my lot in life long ago as the 'sweet guy' that girls complain about their boyfriends to.  So why hasn't lady EAW treated me the same way? I mean, sure, every time I go in for a kiss I get kneed in the balls and she takes my title away, but she's still texting me at 3AM, making sure I'm alright...I don't know.  The analogy has gotten away from me, but the spirit of the question still remains: why hasn't Lady EAW given Nobi that booty call to the main event? No, no, drop the analogy.  You know what I mean though.  Where's your date with destiny? Where's the late night rendezvous for the title.  Where's that golden band that she keeps promising you?"

Pizza Boy posts up against Radio City Music Hall and takes in the chaos of New Years Eve with a somewhat wistful smirk on his face.

  "I'm sorry.  I guess the more polite way to ask this question is 'why me?', but you've been dismissed so much that I figured I'd throw you some empathy.  It must come off a bit grandstanding, but it's not the intention.  You're a good guy, Nobi.  Damn good wrestler and a damn fine specimen of a man.  I'm just some blue collar Bowery trash that made good off of a lucky break.  This all started by me asking you what I should do about my current situation with Tyler Parker's knife in my back and the feeling of cold gold still on my lips from kissing that Answer's Championship goodbye prematurely.  I'm not mad at you, and I have no intention of going into this match with some 'message' to send to Tyler on your behalf, or some 'warning shots' toward Lannister.  They'll get their time in the ring with me, and I'll probably come out of it looking as bad or worse than what I do to them.  There's no pressure release valve on me that's just going to decompress by showing you, Nobi, just how wrong every industry insider is about that dark horse up and comer whose been on the cusp for so long.  That kid who needs a breakout performance, that waiting in the wings future of EAW Elitist who just hasn't had the opportunity to show how much better he is than the guys on top.  I'm not your proving ground Nobi.  I'm not your ticket to stardom.  The sad truth is that EAW has enlisted me as the gate keeper to the next level.  I don't know why.  I'm not very good, but for some reason every time a Jamie O'Hara, or a Mexican Samurai, or a Nico Borg pops in the ring with me, they come out a made man. Every time Nobi.  Every single time.  

Pizza Boy stares into the camera with an indignant intensity that brings some of the young man of twenty fifteen back into his pallor.

   "But this? This isn't going to be one of those times.  It's not an indictment on you, and it's not a heralding self-endorsement either.  I've bled too much to give up chasing the ghost of twenty sixteen.  Too many blows have been rained down upon me from behind.  Too many crowns have been awarded only to be unjustly taken away.  Too many armies have been turned back for only one arrow to take me down.  This war has made me a walking, talking, callous Nobi.  My bones have been fractured, only to calcify and reinforce.  My flesh has been torn to ribbons until all that's left is scar tissue.  I'm indomitable Nobi.  There isn't a raw nerve left on me to exploit.  I think it's high time the gate keeper quits being contented with his duties and crashes through to the other side for good. I'm sick of having the keys of the kingdom handed to me, only for them to be ripped away at the end of the night.  Twenty seventeen is the year that the Pizza Party takes office and becomes a patriarchy of pies.  You, Nobi? You're just the first slice on my way back to the top."

PB pushes himself off of the building and heads into the new year's party mob as the countdown clock starts ticking.

I have been waiting for this...

I have been waiting SO LONG for this...

I have been EAGERLY waiting for this...

I’m so happy, I’m so exited, I’m so thrilled. Those words are really representing what I’m feeling at this moment. Those words are really representing what I’m feeling towards my upcoming match on January 7th. Why am I being so exited?

It’s because I’m facing off againts someone who I deeply respect so much. It’s because I’m facing off againts someone who I admire so much. It’s because I’m facing off againts someone who I consider an idol so much: The Pizza Boy.

You may be younger than me, you may be smaller than me, you may be shorter than me, but you have done a lot more than me. You have won the National Elite Championship twice. You have won the Answers World Championship once. If not because of Lannister’s cowards tactics, you will be holding the Answers World Championship on your shoulder right now. If not because of Nico Borg’s cheap move, you might be a double-champion right now. If not because of Drake and Jones distracting you, you might never lose your National Elite Championship in the first place. You see, Dummies needs to cheat to beat you. Dummies needs to use dirty and cheap tactics to screw you over. No matter how dominant you are, dummies will always find a way out to put you down with their dishonest strategies. Unfortunately, you become the victim of the corrupt system. If not because of the corruptions, you’ll be rulling Showdown with your iron fist. Your winning streaks is a prove that you are no longer an underdog, your winning streaks is a prove that you are the top dog. You may not be a World Champion right now, but the fact and the truth is, you are the epitome of “started from bottom, now we here” and that’s one of the BIGGEST reasons why I refuse to quit and I refuse to give up anytime soon. You used to be a comedic relief, you used to be someone who was hardly taken seriously in the locker room, but you managed to change people’s perceptions and it is something really hard to do. No matter what you’ll say, no matter what you’ll do, you’ll always be remaining as one of EAW’s favourites, EVER!

But PB, let me say this to you, my admiration for you is not blinding me at all. In fact, it is opening my eyes to see things more clearly. It is clearing my mind to think more cleverly. You see PB, I’m very opposite from you. I’m not a success yet, I’m STILL a failure right now. You have hot winning streaks, I have cold losing streaks. I’m fully aware that you and me are standing in the opposite directions and it is something I can’t deny. I’m fully aware that I’m the underdog in our upcoming match. But do you know something PB? It doesn’t change the fact that I can still beat you with a class. It doesn’t change the fact that I can still pin you right in the middle of the ring 1-2-3. It doesn’t change the fact that I can make you tap out at the center of the ring. Because truthfully PB, I’m motivated, I’m determinated, and I’m dedicated to prove to you that I’m different than any other dummies who have beaten you with garbages moves. I’m someone who can beat you with ethics, integrity, and honesty because that’s the way I am and that’s the way I roll. I don’t want to make any wrong impressions to you PB, because beating you cleanly is something that people want to do and I’ll be more than glad to be the first one to do so to you in the past 6 months or so. You won’t be able to beat me easily because after all, you are facing off againts someone who reminds you of your old self. I’m an underdog, just like you were, you know how hungry I am to bite you and that’s something you want to avoid. You can believe that!

McAdams opens the door to his study room. He is shirtless and only seen from the middle up. It is dimly lit by the morning lights. He passes by a Christmas tree. There is a present underneath it signed "To my Classy friend, Jon McAdams, from Your Best friend, Mike Showman". McAdams steps past it and sits down by the fireplace looking at the mantle above it. There sits the hardcore title. McAdams stares at it for a few moments in silence until some rustling is heard from his bedroom. 

"Jon? Come back to bed," Bernadette Bennett's voice is heard off camera. McAdams grins before reaching out and grabbing the hardcore belt and wrapping it around his waist. The camera pans out and it is revealed that McAdams is naked but his genitals are being covered by the title belt. 

"Hope you're ready to get hardcore, Ms. Bennett," McAdams says giddily before shutting the door. Giggling is heard in the room. There is a sign on the door that reads.