HERITAGE HAVOC 08/28/2014

NAPW HeritageHavoc

Future Shock vs SCARS
Grillo Jr vs Blake Taylor
Dem Gobz vs LEGION
Crimson Mask vs Declan Black
Sammy Devine vs Squirrelly Nuttz (Superstar Rules)
The Phenomenons vs Those That Would Inflict Ill (Tag Team Championship)
Kris Jacobson vs Anton Petrov
A-Team vs Kentucky Hellbillies
Lardo vs Joshua Rapture
Cuzin Eddie vs Clancy King
Abbey Graves vs Jay Deschain (World Championship)
Bruiser Breton vs Andellion Moonwater (Canadian Heritage Championship)


We open with Grillo Junior who joins his Uncle Pepe at a table where shirts with Grillo’s cricket symbol are being sold.

Grillo Jr: Hi, tio.

Pepe: Oh hello there, sobrino. I told you merchandise would be great investment, we already sold two shirts!

Grillo Jr: Wow that’s amazing, tio.

Suddenly a young fan approaches the merchandise booth. The chipper little boy looks around at all the shirts. His small stature barely lets him peek over the edge of the table.

Fan: Wow.

Pepe: Hey buddy, wanna buy a shirt? Great prices and good quality.

Fan: I would… but I only have a dollar…

The young boy pouts. Grillo Jr scratches his head momentarily before the light bulb goes off.

Grillo Jr: Well it looks like you’re in luck because for only one dollar you can join Grillo’s… Bug Buddy, eh… Cricket Club! You get uh…

The masked wrestler looks around the table and checks the box with more shirts in it. He pulls out a poster and signs it with a marker. Uncle Pepe goes to takes the poster back but Grillo swats his hand away. He also takes a note card and writes ‘Grillo Fan Club #1’ on it with the black felt tip.

Grillo Jr: An autographed Grillo poster and an official membership card. You just happen to be fan club member number one!

Fan: Oh BOY!

Grillo Jr: You also um…

The muscular luchador looks around. He takes a coaching whistle from around his uncle’s neck. He leans in to quell his uncle’s protests with a whisper.

Grillo Jr: Listen we can get another whistle later, this will be good.

The wrestler finally gets the whistle over his uncle’s head and hands it to the little boy.

Grillo Jr: You also get an official Cricket Club whistle. Now you can do cricket calls just like me.

Fan: Cool!

What one can assume is the boy’s mother rushes up to the table. She grabs the small child by the hand.

Mother: Oh Jonathan, there you are.

Fan: Look mom, I got to join the Bug Buddy Cricket Club!

Mother: Oh my, that’s very nice of these gentlemen.

She looks at Grillo Junior who nods and Uncle Pepe who smiles while looking the woman’s figure up and down.

Mother: Come along, Jonathan, we need to go back to our seats. Say thank you.

The young fan’s eyes light up as he waves while being ushered away.

Grillo Jr: Eh, don’t forget to disinfect that whistle before you use it!

Fan: Thank you!

As the fan and his mother leave, Grillo’s uncle turns to his nephew.

Pepe: That poster was supposed to be five dollars, and you signed it too, that’s extra.

Grillo Jr: Tio, it’s ok. You got them printed up in bulk for cheaper than that, so what if we cut our profits? It’s about making the fans happy. Did you see how much joy it brought to him? That’s why I do this. We should get some cards printed up at the copy place and pick up more whistles too, I have an idea. I bet there are going to be more fan club members next time.

Pepe: If you say so… But I still think we should have charged his mom four more dollars.

The luchador shakes his head as he turns from the table.

Grillo Jr: You never change…

With that our camera cuts to…


“ONE TWO THREE GO!”

“And now, live on iPPV from Edmonton — New Alberta Pro Wrestling presents… HERITAGE HAVOC!”

The camera pans across the jam-packed POLISH HALL in Edmonton, Alberta! Hundreds of screaming fans have turned out for what promises to be another night of intense wrestling action and God-knows-what else. The most popular stars are evident by their merchandise everywhere and the signs made by fans! “Devine Army” gear, the ever-popular “Abbey GODDAMN Graves” t-shirt, Cuzin Eddie shirts, Kris Jacobson, Future Shock! Otter masks are out in force with Andellion Moonwater getting his title shot tonight!

Cut to Bill Hewson and Jack Jones at the announce table to welcome fans to the program.

BILL HEWSON: Good evening everybody, and welcome to NAPW HERITAGE HAVOC! I’m Bill Hewson alongside Jack “Attack” Jones and what a barnburner we have for you tonight, live in the Polish Hall and on iPPV worldwide! In our MAIN EVENT, Canadian Heritage Champion BRUISER BRETON defends his title against the Prince of Crystalwood, the one & only ANDELLION MOONWATER!

JACK JONES: Oh, I’m looking forward to seeing Breton rearrange that tiny little otter face!

BILL HEWSON: And in our other title match tonight, the Tag Team titles will be on the line when THOSE THAT WOULD INFLICT ILL defend against the champions — THE PHENOMENONS! And it was last month that The Phenomenons orchestrated one of the most over-the-top spectacles ever seen in pro wrestling!

JACK JONES: Yeah, I’m still trying to get my insurance to cover “Robosaurus.” Come on, I’ll pay the deductible!

BILL HEWSON: Also in action tonight, the heated rivalry between CRIMSON MASK and DECLAN BLACK comes to a head when they square off in one-on-one action! But first let’s head to the ring for our opening contest! Take it away, Frank!


Future Shock vs SCARS

In this opening contest, Colton Sterling and Brock Whitworth start for their respective teams. Whitworth with a series of chops, whips Sterling to the ropes — Bicycle kick from the “Diamond in the Rough” puts Whitworth down! Sterling nails the rising Brisbane native with a Famouser for two. Both men tag out to their partners. Jason Richards charges in blindly — stunned by a european uppercut to the mush from Jaxon Queen! Series of European uppercuts, and then a vicious Rolling elbow puts Richards down. ANKLE LOCK! Richards may tap out, Whitworth breaks it up! MISSILE DROPKICK from Colton Sterling to Whitworth! Referee Morgan Smythe counting both teams out… but first, it’s NAP TIME for Brock Whitworth! Sterling with the Roundhouse turns Whitworth right into a kryptonite-crunching Queen Superman punch! Whitworth tumbles out of the ring. Queen properly makes the tag to Sterling, the fans cheering as Future Shock each take a corner, Jason Richards in the middle… HIGH-LOW! “Shocked” lariat/legsweep combo connects. Queen ducks down and hoists Jason Richards on his shoulders as Sterling ascends the buckles… he flies! SHOCKED TO THE FUTURE! The cover one, two, three! Future Shock with a decisive, dominant victory over their opponents. That’s got to put them right back into contention for the NAPW Tag Team Championship!

WINNER: Future Shock


JACK JONES: … have never seen so much pie come back out of a person.

BILL HEWSON: And he still wrestled that night?

JACK JONES: He won the title!

BILL HEWSON: That’s a true professional!

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall!

Cue the sound of pipes, followed by a cool little drum intro – and it’s already recognizable for NAPW’s most loyal as “Espejo Que Humea” by Yaoil Mictlan, the crowd popping for the coming of Mexico’s own El Grillo!

FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED and FORTY SEVEN pounds. He is one half of the Sons of Tradition… hailing from the LEGENDARY Aztec homeland of Aztlan… He is GRILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLO! JUNNNNNNNNNNNNNIOR!

Grillo Jr is all fired up for this one, feeding off the energy of the crowd here, and sliding under the bottom rope, flipping over his own head, and mounting the turnbuckles in one, smooth action!

BILL HEWSON: This young kid has a lot of talent, Jack Attack, and these fans are solidly behind him here tonight!

JACK JONES: I always knew there was something up with this town… how the heck do you get behind a guy who’s name translates as ‘The Cockroach’?

BILL HEWSON: I believe that’s ‘The Cricket’, Jack…

Grillo bounces off the ropes a couple of times, tests them out for tautness, and satisfied, he waits on his opponent…

FRANK WARBURTON: Annnnnnd his opponent!

“The End is Where We Begin” by Thousand Foot Krutch hits, and out walks a man who looks like he was BRED for this kind of thing – picture perfect physique, striking blue eyes, short, wavy blonde hair without a millimetre of it out of place, and clad in immaculate white, this is one young stud who looks a million bucks in the making!

FRANK WARBURTON: Weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED and FORTY FIVE pounds. Hailing from Austin, Texas… he is a technician! He is a high-flyer! He is an All American “Blue Chip” Athlete… he is BLAAAAAAAAKE! TAAAAAAYYYYLOOOOR!

The fans aren’t overly enamoured with this young man to say the least, and Blake couldn’t give a damn about that – in fact, he’s smiling!

JACK JONES: You see, that’s what’s wrong with these damn people, Hewson – you’ve got El Cocko-roach getting a standing ovation in one corner, and you’ve got a graduate from the University of Texas School of Law AND a Texas Scholar Athlete getting jeered in the other! What gives?!

BILL HEWSON: Well, I think these fans have taken exception to the way Taylor has carried himself since entering NAPW, and they’ve every right to voice their opinions on the matter, Jack!

JACK JONES: And what way is that, Hewson? Not donning ridiculous attire, not giving himself a damned stupid nickname?! By being a REAL athlete and knowing it?

BILL HEWSON: Well, some might think he strays a little too close to arrogance, Jack.

JACK JONES: The man’s got every right to be arrogant! And he’ll have even more right once he’s squashed that pesky little bug he’s in there with!

Blake Taylor looks supremely confident despite his reception, and he doesn’t want to wait for the referee to give the go-ahead, he just marches straight to the centre of the ring and challenges Grillo Jr to a collar-and-elbow tie up. Grillo Jr obliges him, they trade a couple of arm wringers both ways, Grillo Jr suddenly drops down, flips over, nips up, and arm drags Taylor half-way across the ring!

Taylor’s up, physically unharmed but mentally somewhat flustered, and he yells out a challenge for Grillo to lock up again. Grillo Jr again obliges, but this time Taylor brings up a knee and catches the luchadore in the bread basket. The crowd boos that, but Taylor doesn’t give a damn, he delivers some CLUBBING forearms to the back of Grillo Jr, grips his neck, spins him ‘round… hangman’s noose neckbreaker!

BILL HEWSON: These two trading moves early, only Taylor needed a little trickery to get his end done…

JACK JONES: Hey, don’t for a minute underestimate this guy! He may be green, but he’s got the moves, believe me!

BILL HEWSON: Yes, but can he execute them cleanly against a guy with Grillo Jr’s credentials? This guy is a born successor to his father’s great legacy!

JACK JONES: Oh, what ‘great legacy’ is that, Hewson? The ‘jump around like an idiot and get dropped on my head’ kind of legacy? ‘Cause that’s what just happened!

Grillo Jr certainly felt that one, and Taylor quickly nips behind him, drives his knee into his spine and hooks up a nice little neck crank! The crowd don’t like it, but Taylor’s not afraid to tell them he doesn’t give a damn!

Grillo Jr starts to get pumped up in retaliation, but no sooner does he get himself off his backside than Taylor spins him round, hooks him in a front facelock and DRIVES him with a DDT! Taylor taps his temple, he thinks he’s too smart for the Aztec warrior!

Taylor slowly slinks over to make a cover, 1… kickout at 1!

BILL HEWSON: Well, ‘Blue Chip’ or no, Taylor’s going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that to put Grillo Jr away!

JACK JONES: Just step on it! That’ll do it!

Taylor grabs hold of Grillo Jr’s antennae (it’s on his mask…) and slaps it around a little, making fun of the luchadore, but that only fires Grillo Jr up, and Grillo is right back on his feet and delivers two hard rights to Blake Taylor! Taylor covers up and backs off, and Grillo Jr bounces off the far ropes, leaps through the air…………

…. and gets LOW BRIDGED by Blake Taylor!

JACK JONES: HAHAHAHA! Well that’s one way to use that insect’s momentum against him!

BILL HEWSON: Blake Taylor pulled the ropes down, and Grillo Jr just crashed HARD to the outside! He looks hurt!

JACK JONES: He looks winded is what he does!

The crowd are booing Blake Taylor something fierce, but Blake laughs it off, slides outside, waits for Grillo Jr to get up, then delivers a running lariat that sends him hard to the floor!

Taylor is looking VERY pleased with himself at this juncture, and with Grillo Jr slow to his feet, he has ample time to grab him by the back of the mask and the seat of his pants and rolls him into the ring…

… but Grillo Jr may have been playing possum, because he harnesses the momentum of that roll in, runs straight to the far ropes, times it perfectly with a flying forearm just as Taylor climbs up to the apron! Taylor is sent sprawling to the outside, and Grillo Jr pops up and POPS the crowd!

JACK JONES: Did you see that, Hewson!? Grillo just showed his true colours right there!

BILL HEWSON: Grillo Jr fighting fire with fire it seems, and this crowd loves it!

Blake Taylor is on his feet now DEMANDING that the referee admonish Grillo Jr for what he feels was an illegal blow! Grillo Jr simply mounts one of the turnbuckles, cups his hand to his ear and let’s the fans decide what they thought about it – and it seems they liked it VERY much indeed!

JACK JONES: Blake Taylor’s about to blow a gasket, Hewson!

Blake climbs to the apron again, this time pulling the referee in front of him and pointing his finger directly at an unconcerned Grillo Jr! Grillo Jr starts clapping, starts getting the fans into this one, and Blake Taylor starts nodding his head, ‘all right, you wanna do this?!’, gets in to the ring, they lock up, and Grillo Jr drops for another arm drag… no, Taylor leans back and blocks it, pulls Grillo Jr up, whips him into the ropes, brings up a knee to shut him down, Grillo Jr dives right past it, rolls Taylor up in the process, 1… 2 – Taylor kicks out, red-faced and right back to his feet, misses a clothesline, stumbles round right back in to a fireman’s carry and gets SLAMMED for his troubles!

Taylor’s a little slower to his feet this time, and Grillo Jr is ready to meet him with a standing drop kick to the face, Taylor bounces right back up, groggy now, and Grillo Jr slips behind him, hooks him in to a full nelson, and delivers a FULL NELSON SLAM!

BILL HEWSON: Nice string of moves from Grillo Jr, he seems to be getting the better of these exchanges!

JACK JONES: Yeah, Taylor went to the well once too often with that knee and the Cocka-roach made him pay!

Grillo Jr really is a house of fire, he climbs the turnbuckles, right to the top, waits for Taylor to get to his feet, but Taylor, he’s all over the place, and he’s grabbing hold of the referee, trying to pull himself up…

… Grillo Jr can’t get a clear shot of Taylor, Taylor clearly up to some kind of trick, and Taylor suddenly feigns a collapse, LURCHES forward, THROWS the referee right into the corner, DERAILS Grillo Jr, and CROTCHES him on the top turnbuckle! That draws an ‘Oooooooh’ from the crowd and no mistake! They felt that!

JACK JONES: Oh no! Blake Taylor fell! I think he blew his knee!

BILL HEWSON: You think he ‘blew his knee’…?!?

JACK JONES: Oh, no, wait… looks like he’s okay! Phew, that was a close one, Hewson! These finely tuned athletes, all it takes is one —

BILL HEWSON: Give it a rest, Jack Attack! He knew EXACTLY what he was doing!

Blake Taylor ‘tries out his knee’ (there’s not a damn thing wrong with it), looks at the referee and apologizes, then shrugs and sticks the boots right to the hurting figure of the fallen Grillo Jr!

JACK JONES: You think they taught him that at Texas U, Hewson?

BILL HEWSON: What’s that, Jack?

JACK JONES: How to kick a man when he’s down!

Blake Taylor hoists Grillo Jr up, winds him further with a snap suplex, flips over straight into a cover, 1…. 2…. kick out!

BILL HEWSON: Grillo Jr just barely kicking out there, he is in a lot of pain!

JACK JONES: Well wouldn’t you be, Hewson?

Blake enquires about the speed of the count but it’s a token effort, he’s not particularly interested, and soon enough he’s all over Grillo Jr like a rash, hand around his throat, yelling right at him face to face, ‘How’s it feel, Grillo?! How’s it feel?!’

The crowd are incensed as Blake picks Grillo Jr up, lifts him up… and SADISTICALLY delivers an atomic drop! The crowd feel that almost as much as Grillo Jr feels it (well, not quite), Blake laughs, drops to his side, drapes himself lazily over Grillo Jr, 1… KICK OUT.

BILL HEWSON: Grillo Jr kicking out emphatically, I think Blake Taylor’s getting on his nerves here!

JACK JONES: Blake Taylor is out-wrestling him, that’s what we’re seeing, Hewson!

BILL HEWSON: When did ‘out-wrestling’ someone constitute using referees as human shields and battering rams?!

JACK JONES: Since Ric Flair became a World Champion that first time!

Blake Taylor starts mocking Grillo Jr, clapping inanely as the crowd boo, then asking ‘what’s up?’ to which he’s treated to a chant of ‘asshole’.

Blake turns his attentions back to Grillo Jr, Grillo just getting to his feet, and… INSIDE CRADLE FROM GRILLO JR!

1…. 2…. NO!

Blake Taylor quickly up, SCOOP SLAM by Grillo Jr! Grillo Jr off the ropes… MEASURES Taylor with a flying forearm! Taylor up again, CROSS BODY by Grillo Jr! 1… 2, Taylor rolls through, 1… 2… NO!

BILL HEWSON: Boy that was close! Taylor almost stole one here!

JACK JONES: Stole one?! Want to sound any more biased, Hewson?!

Grillo Jr and Taylor hit their feet at the exact same time, Grillo missing with a left hand, Taylor CONNECTING with a THUMB TO THE EYE!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

BILL HEWSON: Look at Stewie Lemoine, Jack! He’s warning Blake Taylor that he’s going to disqualify him!

JACK JONES: What?! For what?!

BILL HEWSON: We all saw it, Jack Attack!

Grillo Jr is in immense pain, but it looks like Taylor is talking his way out of trouble! He’s making out like he hit a short jab!

BILL HEWSON: This crowd is not happy!

JACK JONES: They need to stop trying to influence referees, Hewson!

But regardless of the crowd’s histrionics, Taylor has talked his way out of trouble here! Taylor grabbing a blinded Grillo Jr, pulling him forward, hooking him into a front face lock… hooking his leg up…

JACK JONES: Blue Chip Bomber coming up!

He’s got the fisherman’s clutch… and Grillo drops down and rolls through with an inside cradle! No cover though, he let’s it go! That was a neat escape!

BILL HEWSON: But Grillo Jr is still in this thing! My goodness!

JACK JONES: What?!

Taylor is quickly up, but right in to a flurry of ANGRY forearms from Grillo Jr! Taylor reeling here! Irish whip across the ring… Taylor comes back, SPINEBUSTER BY GRILLO JR!

BILL HEWSON: The fans are on their feet! Grillo Jr has come alive!

Grillo Jr is fired up! Blake Taylor doesn’t know where he is, he’s disoriented from all this! BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX!

JACK JONES: Right on his head! Oh no, no, no!

Grillo Jr signals that the end is upon us! The crowd are on their feet!

SIT

OUT

POWERBOMB!

BILL HEWSON: BUG BOMB! BUG BOMB FROM GRILLO JR! HE GOT ALL OF IT!

1…..

2….

JACK JONES: Kick out, Taylor….!

3!

BILL HEWSON: He got him! Blake Taylor caught napping, what a win for Grillo Jr!

JACK JONES: Man! Where did that even come from?!

BILL HEWSON: It came from a life time’s determination, Jack! A life time’s determination to further the Grillo legacy!

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen… THE WINNER OF THE MATCH…… GRILLLLLLLLLLLLLLO! JUNNNNNNNNNNIOOOOOORRRR!!

JACK JONES: But… but… he’s ‘Blue Chip’! He deserved so much more!

BILL HEWSON: Well, if he’s got anything about him, this kid will be back and he’ll be better than ever! He’s got the skills, but has he got the heart?

Taylor rolls out the ring, smarting, and beats a retreat up the ramp to lick his wounds, while Grillo Jr hits the corner turnbuckle to celebrate with his Bug Buddy Cricket Club! Somewhere in the crowd, a little kid is blowing a whistle.


Available on DVD, Blu-Ray and Digital Formats: NAPW SEASON 1! Featuring three nights of incredible action starting with NIGHT OF THE LIVING NAPW — the big kick off of the new generation of pro-wrestling in Alberta! See CORONATION, where ANTON PETROV was crowned NAPW World Champion! And BATTLEBOWL 2013, where ABBEY GRAVES earned her shot at the champion in a grueling battle in the cage!

Available now from NAPW-online.com, iTunes, and other digital content platforms!


LEGION vs. Dem Gobz

Red and green lights herald the team of Dem Gobz, and the duo rush the ring with huge energy. Then the lights go out, and sure enough, LEGION is in the ring when they come back on! Fists start flying immediately, and Martin Chan calls for the bell. Masakre nails a huge snap powerslam that leaves ShaGREEN laid out on the canvas, while Matanza whips HatRED to the ropes, then send him up and over with a high angle back body drop on the rebound. Matanza then dives to the apron, and nails a springboard crossbody on ShaGREEN just as he had staggered to his feet. Masakre, meantime, hauls HatRED up and just PLANTS him with a T-Bone suplex. Chan isn’t even certain who the legal men are as Matanza pulls up ShaGREEN and Masakre yanks HatRED back to his feet… TOTAL MASAKRE! MASS MATANZA! LEGION pins both men, so Chan just counts… 1! 2! 3! Oh the Gobmanity! Over their fallen foes, LEGION raises their arms in victory… then the lights go out, and when they come back on, both LEGION and Dem Gobz are gone…

WINNER: LEGION


JACK JONES: … and that is why the Gary Cherone-fronted Van Halen is the best iteration of Van Halen ever.

BILL HEWSON: You monster.

THORNLEY! The fans boo heartily as “Keep a Good Man Down” hits the PA! After making the long walk from his Mobile Dressing Room, DECLAN BLACK sweeps the curtains aside and looks over the crowd with a superior sneer.

FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is set for ONE FALL! Introducing first, currently residing in Coral Gables, Florida! Weighing in at TWO-hundred and FORTY-five pounds, he is “The Black Dragon”… DECLANNNNNN BLAAAAAAACK!

Black sweeps to the ring in his long black and gold robe, using the stairs to take the apron. He scales the turnbuckle and points a finger high… pointing specifically to the banner reading “SOLE SURVIVOR, SEPTEMBER 28TH.” “There’s only one, and you’re looking at him.” Black shrugs off his robe and hands it off to the timekeeper, stretching his neck…

“No evil under the blood-red sun!

Shall escape the might of the CRIMSON ONE!”

“Triumph” by Audiomachine picks up after the booming voice fades. A red spotlight illuminates the aisle and suddenly! CRIMSON MASK swoops into the picture, cape billowing dramatically behind him! The fans cheer wildly as Mask strides to the ring, taking time to slap five with his fans and exchange thumbs up with many young fans wearing crimson masks!

FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent! Weighing in at TWO-hundred and THIRTY pounds… he is the “Code-Red Crusader!” CRIMMMSONNNNNN MAAAAAAAASSSSSKK!

Mask leaps from the ground right to the apron, then slingshot somersaults into the ring and up into a superhero pose! Black looks unimpressed. Impressively-bearded referee “The Moose” Mark Millar is in charge of the match! He checks both men and calls for the bell!

DING DING DING

BILL HEWSON: And these two men, Declan Black and Crimson Mask, have been on a collision course ever since Black arrived in NAPW back at TAGSTRAVAGANZA in June! They’ve had a war of words… and of course, Black eliminated Mask to win the Battle Royale!

JACK JONES: Yeah until last month when Crimson Black SCREWED Black out of the World title!

BILL HEWSON: Will you be serious? It was Declan Black who introduced the steel chair into his match with Abbey Graves — all Crimson Mask did was prevent it from being used. And for that, Black cost Mask his shot at the Heritage Title at BEACH BLANKET BODYSLAMS!

JACK JONES: Why is Mask out so bad for Black specifically, Hewson? Huh? What about all the other “villains” in this place?

BILL HEWSON: Crimson Mask is only one man — but he can be an IDEA, and seems to be inspiring other wrestlers on the roster… and certainly these fans! One way or another, this match is about more than rankings!

Black and Mask, collar-elbow tie-up! Black slaps on a hammerlock, Mask reaches, tries to get out, reverses, but Black immediately reverses back and transitions into a wristlock. He yanks the arm as Mask tries to find a way out, walking around the ring, grabs the top rope — and back flips to transition in. Mask drives a foot into Black’s knee, forcing his opponent down. Black tries to distance, turns it around again. He’s pleased with himself.

BILL HEWSON: No question Black is a superb technical wrestler, but he seems overly impressed with his own prowess.

Mask can’t get the leverage needed to turn it around. He forces himself to walk, hissing in pain. Walks up the turnbuckle? Drops down butt-first on the top rope, flips back, and arm drags Black to the canvas! Black skids and pops up, eyes wide, and gets arm-dragged again by Black! Black charges and a DEEP arm-drag right into an armbar on the canvas from Mask!

BILL HEWSON: Shades of the great Ricky Steamboat, one of the great heroes of wrestling, with those deep arm-drags!

JACK JONES: Maybe so, but Declan Black is the “dragon” here in NAPW. And he’ll skin those komodos for his boots!

Black and Mask grapple on the mat, Black managing to get a headscissors. Mask tries to break free, can’t get out… until he does a headstand and *pops* out. Black blinks — and eats a basement dropkick! Mask with a cover, only one, both men up. Black with a cheap shot. Irish whip to the ropes, back body drop is telegraphed — sunset flip! One! Two! Mask ducks an elbow from Black and catches his man with a backslide! One! Two! Kick-out, inside cradle from Mask! One! Two! Black kicks out but rolls to the outside, slapping the canvas with his palms and loudly swearing. Mask perches on the second turnbuckle and motions for Black to bring it! The crowd offers their thunderous approval.

Black gets back on the apron, yelling at The Moose to “keep him back.” Mask is nowhere near the ropes, allowing Black to cleanly get back in. Mask looks for a lock-up, throat thrust by Black. Looking for a brainbuster! Mask counters and flips out!! Black charges, Mask sends Black up and over the top rope TO THE FLOOR BELOW! Black spills hard. Mask eyes his opponent, waiting for the prime opportunity… off the ropes! SUICIDE PLANCHAAAAAA —

UPPERCUTTED!

BILL HEWSON: Oh my! Crimson Mask went high-risk and it did not pay off! Declan Black catching Mask with a vicious uppercut in mid-air!

JACK JONES: Damn near a perfect uppercut. Toasteeeee!

Evan Cartwright would be proud. Mask is on the concrete, that was a NASTY spill. And Black knows it. Black isn’t waiting for Mask to gain his senses, bashing his foe face-first into the edge of the ring. Irish whip INTO THE GUARDRAIL. Referee Moose making his ten-count, telling them to “get it th’hell back in the damn ring!” Black rolls in… and back out, breaking the count. Moose growls and Black reminds him he has until “ten.” Mask is valiantly getting to his feet… belly-to-belly suplex ON THE OUTSIDE. Mask’s back arches in pain and he grunts and groans as Black soaks in the hatred of the fans. He pulls Mask up, displaying the superhero’s face to some CM-merch-clad fans. Vicious strike. Finally, the “Black Dragon” face-locks Mask and bundles the man back into the ring. Black follows in, shrugging off the admonitions of Moose and delivering a SNAP suplex. Float-over into a cover for two.

JACK JONES: Declan Black is in complete control, Hewson!

Black working the arm, pulling it across his own shoulder. Black hooks the same arm of Mask over the middle rope, then SNAPS the bottom rope right into it. Mask rolls back, wincing, and Black grabs a hammerlock. On the mat, Black driving knees into the arm locked behind Mask’s back!

JACK JONES: And he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing, making it so that when he slaps on that Painkiller 2.0 the only thing Mask will want to do is QUIT to escape the pain!

BILL HEWSON: Crimson Mask in a bad way, Jack Jones, but one thing I know the Code-Red Crusader will not do is QUIT!

The fans trying to rally Mask. The Crimson One hears them, raising his free hand. It starts to shake! Black looks side to side, yelling for the fans to shut up, but Mask is feeding off the energy of the citizenry of NAPW! Fighting to his feet… Mask swings an elbow back! Black tucks his head close to avoid, Mask reaches low, reaches to the side, tucks forward and sends Black rolling! The Black Dragon pops back up to his feet —

JUSTIIIIIICE PUNNNCH! Black pops on his tip-toes, then collapses down in a heap. One! Two! Th-KICKOUT! Black kicks out! Crimson Mask, however, pressing his advantage. Whips Black into the corner. WHISPER IN THE WIND — nobody home! Black hits the ropes as Mask staggers… YAKUZA KICK!! One, two, th-kickout!

BLACK LOCKS ON THE PAINKILLER!

JACK JONES: Stick a fork in this turkey, Hewson!

But Crimson Mask, despite the cobwebs, manages to prevent it from being fully cinched in. Two great grapplers struggling, Mask rolls over, shots to the head of Black! Black won’t let go, but Mask suddenly snakes an arm around Black’s head — and looks from the Crimson Clutch!! Can he get the Guillotine? Looking for it, but before he can get it fully locked on, Black is in the ropes and Moose forces a break. Mask rolls free and back to his feet in a fluid motion as Black tries to create some distance, hanging in the ropes. Mask respects the rules, waiting until his opponent advances. Thumb to the eye by Black. Irish whip, reversed right at the short-arm, into a flying crucifix… not a pin! CRIMSON CRUCIFIX DRIVER!! One, two, th-kickout!

BILL HEWSON: Black is reeling!

Crimson Mask knows it! The fans are rocking! RUNNING ROCKER DROPPER! Black flips over, prone, and Mask leaps to the top rope. He raises his arms high, the fans roaring!

FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX!

Black moves!

Crimson Mask rolls back to his feet, unharmed —

BUT DOESN’T AVOID THE ROARING ELBOW.

ONE! TWO! TH-KICKOUT!

BILL HEWSON: If Mask had hit that Swanton, it would have been over — but Black with a DEVASTATING elbow shot!

JACK JONES: It’s not over… but it might be now!

Looking for the Brainbuster — gets it! And Black loads up the arm. He’s calling for some lights out… BLACKOUT time! Mask is to his feet, dazed. WRISTLOCK! SHORT-ARM — DUCKED! ROUNDHOUSE! Black down to a knee… MASK! SHINING KNEE OF JUSTICE!!

BLACK POPS UP ROARING ELBOW!

BOTH MEN COLLAPSE IN A HEAP!

JACK JONES: Wait, is this NAPW or All Japan Pro?!

BILL HEWSON: Both men are down, and… wait a minute? Who the heck is THAT?

JACK JONES: He looks like a COBRA… but that’s not any member of the Order of Orochi! WAIT!

A man in a robe and mask that looks like a hooded cobra has jumped the guardrail — and he’s on the ring apron! The Moose is right there, telling this interloper to hit the bricks!

JACK JONES: That’s… PRINCE WADJETHOTEP! And he has a history with Declan Black!

BILL HEWSON: But is he friend or foe?! Wait — WATCH OUT!

Unseen by Moose, dealing with this newcomer on the apron, SQUIRRELLY NUTTZ hits the ring, clad only in an old pair of “Vancouver Grizzlies” basketball shorts! The barefoot brawler is here — WHY?

THAT’S WHY.

HALFBREED HAMMER on a rising Crimson Mask!!

BILL HEWSON: What the hell is Squirrelly Nuttz doing?! He just took out Crimson Mask — wait just a damn minute, no!

Prince Wadjethotep drops off the apron, Squirrelly Nuttz rolls out of the ring to the floor! In the ring, Declan Black grabs the wristlock. Moose only sees the two competitors in the ring —

BLACKOUT!! Crimson Mask OBLITERATED by the short-arm clothesline! Black covers! ONE! TWO! THREE!

FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner… DECLANNN BLAAACK!

JACK JONES: Nobody in NAPW delivers a short lariat like the “Black Dragon,” Bill Hewson, and Crimson Mask just got his lights out!

BILL HEWSON: Yeah, but give the credit to Prince Wadjethotep and Squirrelly Nuttz oh WAIT JUST A DAMN MINUTE! COME ON! This was a set-up all along, these guys are in league!!

Hewson is incensed as Squirrelly Nuttz and Prince Wadjethotep are back in the ring. They, and the victorious Declan Black, all stand around the fallen Crimson Mask… Black laughs, and they start stomping away at Crimson Mask! The burly Moose tries to intervene, shoved away by Nuttz —

BILL HEWSON: Moose is a tough hombre, but he’s a referee now, not a wrestler — this is a THREE ON ONE!

JACK JONES: Where’s your Justice League now, Crimson Mask?

BILL HEWSON: This is a damn debacle — HERE COMES CUZIN EDDIE! SAMMY DEVINE!!

JACK JONES: Hey come on, they weren’t doing anything wrong.

BILL HEWSON: Are you serious?

JACK JONES: Nothing wrong with three-on-one beatdowns back on Earth 5H!

It’s completely broken down as Squirrelly Nuttz and Cuzin Eddie pick up right where they left off last month, trading right hands and tumbling out of the ring! Sammy Devine nailing Declan Black, irish whip, Black holds the ropes, Devine with a Cactus Clothesline puts both men out! Crimson Mask ducks a clothesline from Prince Wadjethotep who spills to the floor…

SUICIDE PLANNNNCHAAAA! Onto EVERYBODY!

JACK JONES: Everybody’s down! Holy heck!

BILL HEWSON: Bodies everywhere, these fans thundering — holy “heck?”

JACK JONES: They can’t all be — HOLY HELL!

BILL HEWSON: CUZIN EDDIE TOSSES PRINCE WADJETHOTEP INTO THE CROWD!

Gorilla press and the fans barely get out of the way as the slithering Prince crashes into the sea of chairs! Cuzin Eddie climbs the railing and comes after him! Declan Black and Crimson Mask continue their war in the aisle as security finally arrives, Jake Phoenix barking orders!

BILL HEWSON: This is absolute MAYHEM!

JACK JONES: And now we’ve got Squirrelly Nuttz and Sammy Devine going at it!

BILL HEWSON: These two trading blows, and — wait just a minute, The Moose is signalling for the bell? Folks, Sammy Devine and Squirrelly Nuttz are scheduled to face-off later tonight — I don’t think they want to wait any longer!

“The Moose” Mark Millar looks at the two trading blows, gives a bearded grin, and says “aw hell, let’s go!”

DING DING DING

BILL HEWSON: It’s official — and this is SUPERSTAR RULES! No disqualification! No count-outs!

JACK JONES: Just the kind of environment Squirrelly Nuttz loves! Look out!

BILL HEWSON: Sammy Devine with a corner splash, Nuttz got the foot up!

JACK JONES: And I don’t think it’s been washed!

Devine sways — and a sickening headbutt takes him down! The crowd wince as one at the audible cracking of two skulls together. Nuttz stomping away, no grace or technique here, just pure destruction! He picks Devine up and delivers a sloppy powerslam… drops the elbow! Another! Another! Squirrelly Nuttz up and down with REPEATED elbow drops until Devine is quivering, a cover one, two, the “Starmaker” kicks out! Nuttz stomps on his man as Devine tries to crawl away. He lifts the leg up high, BIG STOMP — Devine catches the foot?

HE BITES THE TOE!

JACK JONES: Oh god I hope we have a tetanus shot standing by!

BILL HEWSON: Sammy Devine came here tonight looking for a FIGHT. After getting screwed out of the Heritage Title by Bruiser Breton, getting beat by a handful of tights last month, he has a lot of frustration to take out…

JACK JONES: Yeah? Good for Devine, he wants to get a little ‘hardcore.’ A guy like Squirrelly Nuttz, he lives it! This isn’t no tourist trap!

Nuttz howls in pain and Devine comes off the ropes with the Stars In Your Eyes leg lariat to take his man down! Nuttz kicks out and rolls to his feet, it’s like he’s constantly moving. Security has cleared away Black, Mask, Eddie and Hotep at this point, all the focus is on the two in the ring. Sammy Devine hooks his man up, looking for a brainbuster! Nuttz blocks, throws some shots to the ribs, tries for HIS brainbuster! Lifts Devine up, Devine kicks and squirms, Nuttz can’t hold him up, Devine lands on the ring apron! Nuttz with a shot, suplex back in, blocked by Devine, SAMMY DEVINE SUPLEXES NUTTZ OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOOOOOOR!

JACK JONES: HOLY HELL!!

BILL HEWSON: Both men — both men down and out, suplex to the floor, what d’you THINK is going to happen? Nothing but concrete!

The fans are chanting HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT as both men writhe outside, wracked in pain. Sammy pulls himself up the guardrail, legs splayed out, making a fist and the fans roar. He looks and sees Squirrelly Nuttz… crawling under the ring?

BILL HEWSON: What on earth is Nuttz doing?

JACK JONES: I think he was taking a nap under the ring earlier today. He might have left a sandwich!

BILL HEWSON: Well, whatever keeps him going OH MY. Nuttz with a wrench to the face of Sammy Devine!

Nuttz whirls around and blasts Sammy in the face with a big crescent wrench, probably left behind by the ring crew! Devine drops, kicking the ground in agony. The Moose can only watch on — heck, the referee might even be enjoying this. He’s just there to count the pinfall! Nuttz fiddles with the wrench… and PUTS IT AROUND DEVINE’S NOSE! What the crap, man! Devine yells in pain as Nuttz puts the squeeze on. He pulls it off, then tosses the wrench aside and sits on the back of Devine. Roughly paintbrushes his opponent’s head, before reaching into his short pockets and pulling out an old half-bent cigarette. Nuttz drives a forearm into the back of Devine’s head, then starts asking the fans for a light!

BILL HEWSON: He can’t light up in here anyway, and — he’s in the middle of a frikkin’ match!

JACK JONES: Hey, enough with the demonizing of smokers already. Man just needs to destress!

BILL HEWSON: You’re still angry you can’t smoke cigars at the casino. Also, shut up!

JACK JONES: I — hey!

Nuttz shrugs, sticking the smoke in his lips anyway… and then locking on a CAMEL CLUTCH!! Devine can only say “Yahhhhhhh!” as Nuttz applies the pressure. The fans try to rally him, and Devine refuses to tap, but he’s in a world of hurt!The Moose slides out and has to tell Nuttz that it’s no dq, but it’s NOT Falls Count Anywhere. He can’t win it outside!

JACK JONES: Yeah, this one has to end in the ring… not anywhere in Alberta like last month!

BILL HEWSON: Squirrelly Nuttz and Cuzin Eddie engaging in what has to be the most ludicrous match in NAPW history, a Falls Count Anywhere match that started in Edmonton, ended the next night in Sylvan Lake!

JACK JONES: Man, when did they sleep?

Nuttz gets bored of the Camel Clutch and slams Devine’s face into the floor. He rubs it in, then delivers a vicious stomp, right to the small of the back. Nuttz flips the ring apron back up, he’s digging around again. Garbage can, he throws that over the ropes and in. He pulls out a big rubbermaid bin of ring supplies and throws it into the ring. Well, first it bounces off the second rope, and Nuttz tries again, yelling “FUCK YOU BIN.” Nuttz reaches under again and does find… the classic singapore cane. He grabs it and uses it to choke the life out of Sammy Devine from behind, pulling back against Devine’s throat!

Sammy falls to the ground, coughing, as Nuttz menacingly clangs the cane against the rail. With a sudden burst he brings it up high and CRACKS it down on the back of the crawling Devine. Another shot with the cane, Devine to his side, CRACK right to the ribs! Crack! Crack! CRACKCRACKCRACK! A flurry of unaimed but deadly cane shots to the “Starmaker” and then Nuttz drops down, double-handed choke on the concrete. Nuttz up, a cheap shot to Devine. The fans are showering Nuttz with boos. He surveys the crowd with a hateful grin.

BILL HEWSON: Sammy Devine is just being beaten like so many scrambled eggs here. This Squirrelly Nuttz, he’s a different kind of individual…

JACK JONES: He doesn’t live on the edge, he told the edge where to go and then lit it on fire!

Nuttz grabs Devine and finally rolls his man back on. Lazy cover gets one, two, kick-out. Nuttz grins, he’s cool with more opportunity to beat a guy up. Nuttz pulls the lid off of the bin and smacks Devine with it. Plastic, but not exactly a wiffle bat. He shakes the bin out, mostly full of random rope and some bungee cords, a couple bolts or spare washers (he tosses them into the crowd), a small cloth bag, and… ahhh. A staple gun! Nuttz stalks Devine. He raises the gun high, brings it down to Devine’s back —

Devine knocks the hands away! Sammy Devine coming to life, forearm shivers staggering Squirrelly Nuttz! Boot to the gut, Nuttz drops the staple gun. Devine grabs it KA-CHUNK. Right to the bare back of Nuttz! Nuttz howls! KA-CHUNK! To the chest! Devine grabs a handful of greasy hair and brings the gun to the forehead of Nuttz! KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNK! KA-CHUNK! Nuttz dances in pain, throws a wild right hand, ducked — SAMMY-PLEX! Cover gets one, two. Both men on hands and knees, Devine touches the metal garbage can. Nuttz is up first, ax handle-smash — Devine throws the can into his face! Nuttz is down, Devine grabs the can again… SMASH! Right across the back! The can is crumpled, but it’s not dead! Devine FEELING the energy of the DEVINE ARMY! Lifts up Nuttz…

MELON BUSTER!! ONTO THE GARBAGE CAN!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-OHHHHHHHH!

BILL HEWSON: I can’t believe it! Squirrelly Nuttz kicked out of that brainbuster ON the metal can!

JACK JONES: They don’t call him Nuttz for nothing!

BILL HEWSON: No kidding. But… why do they call him Squirrelly?

JACK JONES: Trust me, Bill. You’re better off not knowing.

BILL HEWSON: What a wild turn of events we’ve seen here tonight, Prince Wadjethotep shows up to help out his former ally Declan Black, along with Squirrelly Nuttz, we have a pier-six brawl and now Sammy Devine is looking to put Nuttz away! Going to the top rope!

Sammy looks out to the Devine Army! He shimmies and shakes, then FLIES! T-TOWN ELBOW —

NOBODY HOME.

Sammy hits hard, comes up holding his ribs, NUTTZ OFF THE ROPES HALFBREED HAMMER!!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-NOOOOOOO!

Nuttz hoists Devine up onto his shoulders DEATH VALLEY DRIVER no Devine reaches out and grabs the top rope. Devine throws an elbow, falls off behind Nuttz, turns around, DEVINE INTERVENTION

Nuttz grabs the top rope to block the cutter, Sammy crashes and burns to the canvas alone. Quick scoop by Nuttz — SLINGSHOT BRAINBUSTER!!

BILL HEWSON: Good God!

ONE!

TWO!

TH—NOOOOOOO!

JACK JONES: There’s no way!

BILL HEWSON: Somehow, Sammy Devine is still in this match!

JACK JONES: They’re kicking the ever-loving CRAP out of each other.

The fans chant “EE SEE DUB, EE SEE DUB” because of course they do. This is freakin’ awesome and they’re beating the hell out of each other. Nuttz sits up, casually, shoves the head of Devine around insultingly. The “Horror of Humanity” seems to be thinking about his next move. That, or contemplating where his next sandwich is coming from. Abruptly he rolls out of the ring, shoving Frank Warburton off of his chair! Nuttz snaps the chair shut and rolls back in. Devine has pulled himself up in the corner. Nuttz raises the chair over his head and charges into the corner at full speed!

Sammy Devine opens the small bag and POURS THUMBTACKS IN THE PATH OF SQUIRRELLY NUTTZ! The barefoot Nuttz skids to a stop, screeching in pain as the tacks attack his feet! Devine leaps to the top rope! FALLING STARS! ONE! TWO! KICK-OUT! Nuttz somehow kicks out, but the soles of his feet are a mess! Devine sets up, hooks Nuttz arms, looking for Sammy Fever — Nuttz counters out — into a BACKSLIDE! ONE! TWO! TH—Sammy gets out! Caught off guard by that traditional wrestling move in a non-traditional match. Sammy with an irish whip, Nuttz reverses, Devine ducks the clothesline, off the ropes again.

RIGHT into a boot from Nuttz! Nuttz hooks his man up, looking for a PILEDRIVER!

JACK JONES: Say goodbye to the winner’s purse, hell, maybe your career, Sammy Devine!

BILL HEWSON: BACK DROP! BACK DROP! Devine powers out and Nuttz backdropped OVER THE ROPES and to the floor! DEVINE WITH A SPLASH! Both men once again DOWN on the outside!

They are, but Devine launches himself up through sheer will! The fans scream and chant his name as Devine unloads on Nuttz with chops and stiff forearms! Nuttz walking around the outside, can’t get away from the savage Starmaker. Another chop! Whooo, just vicious! Nuttz gingerly on his poked feet, sent into the corner of the ring. Devine charges, Nuttz moves, Devine hits the ringpost! Tried to block but caught it on his head. Nuttz saaaaags backwards himself as Devine sways. Headbutt! Nuttz goes cross-eyed and steps back, punch-drunk… another headbutt. Another one. And Devine crashes chest-first onto the announce table.

JACK JONES: Hey! Moose! Do your job, man, get them out of here!

BILL HEWSON: It’s no count-out, Jack Attack! But… you might want to take a few steps back!

Nuttz hammering away on Sammy Devine, grabs Jack’s water bottle and bonks it off Devine’s head, just to be a dick about it. Now Nuttz is ON the announce table, hoisting Sammy Devine up. Wait a minute, Nuttz again looking for the Death Valley Driver! Sammy’s on his shoulders, no ropes to grab this time, DEATH VALLEY DRIVER through the TABLE?! NUTTZ FLIPS HIM!

SAMMY SOMEHOW LANDS ON HIS FEET?!

DEVINE INTERVENTION THROUGH THE TAAAAAAABLLLLLLE!

JACK JONES: HOLEE HELLLLLL!

BILL HEWSON: Our announce table is no more, and now both men are down — this match can’t end outside the ring!

JACK JONES: It may never end, Bill Hewson!

The fans are, of course, chanting “HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT” as both wrestlers lie in the wreckage of the table. Sammy Devine is moving! He rolls over and somehow bundles the Barefoot Brawler up… and into the ring. Devine rolls in, hooks a leg

ONE

TWO

THREE

SHOULDER UP.

JACK JONES: If he’d covered right away, that could’ve been all!

BILL HEWSON: Both men appear spent, I don’t know what they could have left!

Could be right, Sammy looks CRUSHED that didn’t finish. He stands up, pulling Nuttz up by the hair but seems at a loss as to what to do —

SCREW THAT.

DEVINE INTERVENTION!! AGAIN!

ONE

TWO

THREE!

FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner, “THE STARMAKER”… SAAAAMMY DEEEEEVINE!

JACK JONES: It’s over? It’s OVER!

BILL HEWSON: Sammy Devine with the victory here tonight in one of the damndest match-ups we’ve seen in NAPW! Squirrelly Nuttz — he left Devine a beaten pulp, but the Starmaker pulls it out!

JACK JONES: It only took a Devine Intervention through our table AND THEN ANOTHER ONE.

Prince Wadjethotep has reappeared, helping Nuttz out and to the back. Devine, however, is not customarily celebrating with his fans. In fact, a sweaty, bloody, heavily-breathing Devine asks for the microphone?

Sammy Devine: First of all, Abbey, get well and hurry back! I miss you and your fans miss you!!

A huge ovation for the injured NAPW Champion.

Sammy Devine: Secondly, all these attacks by scum like Declan Black, Deschain, Rapture and most importantly Bruiser Breton HAVE to end! I didn’t come to NAPW simply to watch as scum overrun this place. I came here tonight for a FIGHT, hell I got one from a crazy bastard named Squirrelly Nuttz! Bruiser, I know you’re back there. I know you’ve found yet another way to get out of giving me my rematch for the NAPW CANADIAN Heritage Championship. Most of all, I know you’re a coward. Bruiser, I want a fight and I’m tired of chasing you. You need to get your ass out here NOW so we can settle this!

Devine throws the microphone to the mat, wipes the sweat from his brow, and paces back and forth in the ring.

CCR cranks up with ‘Born On The Bayou’ and the fans all turn towards the entranceway, awaiting Bruiser.

BILL HEWSON: From behind! That’s dirty pool!

Bruiser! Through the crowd! He hops the ring barricade and slides into the ring behind Devine. A clubbing blow from behind staggers Devine, but his adrenaline won’t allow him to go down and the two men start trading haymakers in the center of the ring as the fans go crazy!

Devine starts to gain the advantage as he lands three unanswered right hands to the head of Bruiser! Breton lashes out with a kick between the uprights and Devine drops to the mat holding the Devine jewels! Bruiser rolls out of the ring, throws back the ring skirt and drags out… a length of chain, before climbing back inside. Devine is on his knees when Bruiser loops the chain around his neck and yanks him to his feet. The crowd is throwing trash and yelling at Bruiser, who gleefully smiles at them.

Devine is tossed over the top rope and Bruiser pulls tightly on the chain; he’s hanging Sammy Devine with the chain!

Jake Phoenix and his crew hit the ring and it takes everyone to pry the deranged Bruiser to release the chain strangling Devine. It’s pure mayhem as security is surrounding Bruiser inside the ring, while on the outside, Devine is shoving away paramedics and trying his level best to crawl into the ring.

The war takes yet another step…


Tickets are still available for NAPW SOLE SURVIVOR, coming in September. Watch 30 competitors battle it out in the ring for a shot at the championship of their choice. Can’t make it to Edmonton for the event? No problem! Order it today on iPPV!


Cut to backstage. While some semblance of order is attempted to be restored in-ring, NAPW’s junior reporter GREGOR WATT stands in front of the promotion’s banner, microphone in hand. Beads of visible sweat stand out on his brow.

Gregor Watt: Talk about a wild situation out there! Wow! Uh, speaking of wild situations, who can forget the tag team championship match at last month’s BEACH BLANKET BODYSLAMS event! Not the town of Sylvan Lake, that’s for sure. And neither will the A-TEAM, who tonight face my guests at this time, they are John Mitchell, Bryan Marshall, you know them as the KENTUCKY HELLBILLIES!

John Mitchell and Bryan Marshall come in from either side, towering over the Gregor Watt. They are two mean hombres…

Gregor Watt: John, Bryan, the question on, uh, on everybody’s minds — why did you cost A-Team the championship?

Bryan Marshall: It’s really quite simple. We don’t like the A-Team, and the championship really belongs to us anyway.

John Mitchell: It’s all part of our grand plan, Watt. You see most outsiders see the Hellbillies as just two bullies that come in and beat up everyone, but we have a plan.

Gregor Watt: I mean, isn’t that you do? You beat people up all the time… please don’t hurt me. Uh, were you taking revenge for the A-Team beating you way back at TLC in January, or when they helped Cuzin Eddie against you?

Bryan Marshall: We ain’t going to hurt you, Gregor, there is nothing in it for us. Yeah it is part of what of we do — we like to hurt people. Now as far as revenge, hell, it is a dish best served cold.

John Mitchell: We don’t have time for things like revenge and January was a long time ago. This is the new Hellbillies and let’s just say we wanted to send a message and get everyone’s attention.

Gregor Watt: Well you definitely got everybody’s attention, especially that of the A-Team! Any last words for the A-Team, or the rest of the tag teams here in NAPW?

John Mitchell: Just get ready for the pain because the Hellbillies are coming…

Bryan Marshall: And hell is coming with them!!!
Mitchell punctuates the statement, punching his fist into his palm! The Hellbillies walk off towards the camera, momentarily obscuring the image before Watt reappears, looking relieved.

Gregor Watt: There you have it, the Kentucky Hellbillies with strong words for their opponents later tonight the A-Team. Uh, back to you Bill!


BILL HEWSON: Thanks, Gregor! Later tonight, the Kentucky Hellbillies will square off against the A-Team. Right now, let’s take you to Frank for our next match!

FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall… and it is for the NAPW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!

The house lights all fade to black, and one brilliant red spotlight hits the stage. There, wearing a pair of leather jackets, huge sunglasses and a multicolored fractal shirt, is the afro’d man who had played these two into the arena once before. He wasn’t wearing a guitar, this time, but holding up a single length of plastic. A white cap on the end… A conductor’s baton?

FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, at a total combined weight of FIVE-hundred and TWENTY-three pounds… they are LAMBERT HANIEL! NOBODY! THOSE WHO WOULD INFLICT ILL!

Those were string instruments. The audience, confused, begins to make little noises as horns kicked in, beginning to foretell a sense of doom, of malevolence…

JACK JONES: That’s from Fantasia.

BILL HEWSON: That’s… “A Night on Bald Mountain.”

And a chilly blue-green light turns on directly over the entryway to the ring, fog pouring out of the steel ramp heading down to the ring. A black figure has crouched down on the ramp, while the man with the baton directs his invisible symphony to play. And heck, the canny music-lovers in the audience notice that the afro’d man was hitting the proper parts of the symphony for the proper parts of the song.

Invisible orchestra.

Behind the black figure suddenly loomed another, wearing a white cloak covering her massive figure from head to toe. Her face was masked in pure ivory, pure marble white, and the cloak covered her shoulders and arms. The black figure was… crouching? Squatting? Kneeling? But suddenly, he rises, throwing back his hood…

Lambert Haniel has arrived, and is grinning like a maniac. Behind him, Nobody reaches up with a massive mitt, placing it on his shoulder. The black cloak covering Lambert from the shoulders down is torn away, leaving Lambert in just his white jacket, his white linen trousers, and that huge grin.

The song effortlessly changes to “South of the Grapevine”, the afro’d man suddenly wailing on a guitar.

When did he get a guitar?

JACK JONES: I… don’t like that Lambert is equating he and Nobody to the Devil.

BILL HEWSON: Those Who Would Inflict Ill earned themselves a shot at the World Tag Team Championships, defeating Future Shock last month. They could be champions… if they can beat the Phenomenons.

Nobody and Lambert proceed down to the ring, Nobody’s cloak flapping behind her like a pair of enormous bat-wings. Ever since the beginning of “Night on Bald Mountain”, the crowd had been unsure how to react… But as Lambert gets up on the apron and spreads his arms to both sides…

They pretty much decide.

BBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A moment of silence as the lights turn down except for a pair of spotlights on the curtains…

A robotic voice blares over the house speakers.

INTERGALACTIC PLANETARY

PLANETARY INTERGALACTIC

Pounding bass, the constant stream of blaring robotic voice, before the full song, “Intergalactic” by the Beastie Boys blares over the house speakers. Those spotlights stay on the entryway… But something has been added to the display. As the two men make their way out from the back, they have frikkin’ green lasers blasting out from behind them in all directions.

JACK JONES: Freakin’ Green Lasers, Hewson.

BILL HEWSON: Good lord.

FRANK WARBURTON: And now! At a total combined weight of FOUR-hundred and FIFTY-nine pounds! They are the NAPW WORLD Tag Team Champions — SHANE STONE AND ERIC CAMERON, THE PHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENOMENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONS!

Shane and Eric are… walking awkwardly. Or maybe it’s just that they are covered in literally every title belt they had “earned”. The @Nerdist Podcast Tag Team Championship belts, the Edmonton Rush 2014 NLL Champion Tag Team Championships, the TacoTime Tag Team Championships, the Snickers Peanut Butter Bar Tag Team Championships, the massive Universal Tag Team Title belts awarded to them by Lambert, and even the NAPW World Tag Belts.

They are armored from head to toe, clanking loudly as they walk, but are completely shielded from the world. Impregnable, even. They stomp their way down to the ring and slowly, painfully slowly, make their way onto the ring apron, before somehow managing to climb into the ring. Shane falls over as he is going through the ropes, and ends up flailing like a turtle on his back, before the Trailer Park Luchadore, who had silently come to ringside along with Pops, Pete the PG Chimp and the former King of Canada-Land, helps Shane roll from the ring, leaving Eric the man to start the match.

BILL HEWSON: Well, I’m not too sure this is legal, but Eric Cameron appears to be wearing… All of the title belts that he and Shane Stone stole from the Rabble!

JACK JONES: Won. The term is “won” from the Rabble.

Lambert Haniel is in his ring corner, Nobody is standing on the apron. Lambert has his arms draped over the ring ropes, and he’s watching the goings on with much interest indeed, his eyes gleaming in the light as the house lights return to max glow. With Eric standing immobile in his corner of the ring, hands unable to come to his sides, Lambert runs two fingers along his moustache, smoothing it. Eric beckons Lambert on.

Stewie Lamoine steps in, waving his hands across his chest as he walks up to Eric. Eric puts his hands out, an innocent expression on his face. He doesn’t see the problem, but Stewie is insistent, holding out his hands for the title belts.

BILL HEWSON: I believe that Stewie is trying to get Eric out of his suit of Golden Armor!

JACK JONES: Hey, I’m positive that nowhere in the NAPW rulebook does it say that the World Tag Champs cannot wear outfits of their own design while wrestling!

Eric throws a hand out to Lambert, saying… Well, something, and Lambert looks to Stewie… Looks to the crowd… And shrugs. He claps his hands a few times, before stepping forward, straightening up as he does. Eric grins, and Stewie hangs his head, before gesturing to the timekeeper.

DING DING DING

JACK JONES: Lambert doesn’t care! Let the match begin!

With Eric tottering forward in a most ungainly fashion, Lambert turns and dashes for the ring ropes, balling both hands up and hauling back… A rebound, and Lambert comes rushing up to Eric, who tries to put a hand up… But the weight of the belts held his arm mostly at his side! Lambert’s two fists come flying in, and KERRASH-

JACK JONES: No effect!

BILL HEWSON: The belt-armor seems to be working!

Lambert stares at Eric for a moment, disbelieving. He glances to Nobody, out to the crowd, then hits the ropes, winding up once more! Eric waddles to face Lambert, trying to bring a heavy right hand up for a brutal brain chop… But his face goes beet-red, and he can’t lift his arm! Lambert comes flying back, leaping at the halfway point of the ring for a flying lariat…

KERRASH

BILL HEWSON: I think Lambert took the worse part of that impact!

JACK JONES: Lambert might have broken his arm!

Outside the ring, Shane has been desperately trying to get back to his feet for some time, but nobody, not Pete nor the Trailer Park Luchador, can get him up with the weight of thousands and thousands of pounds of gold! Shane finally cries an order, and the two get to work trying to get underneath the belt-leather.

Lambert, clutching his forearm, scrabbles and claws across the ring away from Eric, who simply takes a few slow, lumbering steps toward Lambert. Lambert manages to make it into his ring corner far, far before Eric manages to even get out of the Phenomenal corner… and Lambert reaches up, flailing for a Nobody tag.

She tags.

JACK JONES: Hey, Bill, I think I just heard Terry calling me to come to the ba-

BILL HEWSON: YOU STAY RIGHT THERE!

JACK JONES: *whimper*

Nobody comes into the ring over the top rope, clenching one fist and bringing it back. As Eric manages to bring both hands up before his face, she realizes quickly that she’s not gonna get a hit in on his stomach. So, Nobody stomps up, hauls off, and unloads that right hand RIGHT into Eric’s stomach!

BILL HEWSON: No effect!

JACK JONES: THEY’VE NULLIFIED NOBODY!

Nobody takes a step back, glancing down at her fist. Eric gives a triumphant cry, slowly lifting both arms out to both sides.

Eric Cameron: I’VE DONE IT! I’VE STOPPED YOU! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA!

Nobody tilts her head, that blank white mask expressionless and monotone. She turns, and walks over to Lambert, extending a hand to him. He blinks, watching her for a moment, before digging into his linen trousers’ pocket. He came out with a big, thick off-brand Sharpie, and Nobody takes it, uncapping the thing. Eric watches in confusion.

When Nobody turns around, a pair of dots are drawn over her eyes, and an over-wide, lopsided, crooked smile is drawn across the mask.

JACK JONES: THAT’S IT I’M OUT

BILL HEWSON: Okay, yeah, I’m with you, Jack Attack.

Eric Cameron’s face contorts in fear, and he backs up, holding a trembling hand with the 300: Rise of an Empire Tag Championship plate covering his palm out between him and Nobody. It doesn’t stop the now-smiling Nobody, who rushes in, and begins to hammer Cameron’s chest and stomach with rights and lefts! Eric covers up, desperate to keep his beautiful, beautiful face safe from Nobody’s destruction…

JACK JONES: SHE’S BROKEN THE TACOTIME TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!

BILL HEWSON: But she’s not causing much damage to Eric Cameron!

With Stewie Lamoine’s back to the Phenomenon ring corner, Shane Stone dives into the ring, now bereft of his belt armor. And, with Nobody’s back to him, Stone rushes in, diving low to smash his shoulder and forearm into Nobody’s left knee, chopblocking the leg out from under her!

BILL HEWSON: Chop block! Phenomenon doubleteam!

JACK JONES: Cameron’s got his arm up!

After forcing his entire body’s strength into one arm, Cameron managed to get that 300: Rise of an Empire belt-hand lifted into the air enough to bring it crashing down on Nobody’s face! Nobody goes down, the Phenomenons both standing over her!

BILL HEWSON: Look at Lambert!

JACK JONES: He’s… sitting on the apron?

BILL HEWSON: He doesn’t seem concerned at all about Nobody taking a doubleteam onslaught from the Phenomenons!

JACK JONES:…Honestly, that worries me more.

The Phenomenons pull Nobody to her feet and Stone whips her off to the ropes, only for Cameron to stomp to the center of the ring, holding his arms out to either side to provide a roadblock…

But as Nobody comes rushing across the ring, she dives right over Eric Cameron, crashing into Shane Stone with a flying lariat that turns Stone inside out! As Cameron is desperately trying to actually turn around to see what’s going on behind him, Nobody has popped to her feet, grabbing a fistful of Stone’s hair and yanking him to his feet!

BILL HEWSON: Go-behind, and Nobody has the waistlock!

Nobody brings Stone crashing down overhead with the HELLACIOUS German Suplex!

JACK JONES: Topical!

With Stone having gone limp from the impact to his head, Nobody scoops him up into her arms, and deftly brings him onto her shoulder… Then grabs ahold of both of Shane Stone’s legs around mid-thigh!

BILL HEWSON: …Eric Cameron is turning around, right into a smiling Nobody, holding Shane Stone like some kind of weapon.

JACK JONES: …Okay, past the fear for a moment. I’m on board.

Eric Cameron turns around, and Nobody swings Shane Stone like a human baseball bat! KERRASH! Cameron takes the hit to the chest, and with his arms pinwheeling, goes teetering over and comes crashing down onto his back! The entire ring shakes with the impact of the belt-bedazzled Phenomenon!

BILL HEWSON: Eric Cameron is down! Nobody still has ahold of Shane Stone!

JACK JONES: ALABAMA SLAMMA!

Nobody lets Stone almost fall over her back, then snap-reverses direction, bringing Stone crashing down onto Eric Cameron! The faceplate for the “Andrea, Dave loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, will you marry him?” World Tag Championship bounces off, rolling out of the ring and to the ringside floor! Nobody reaches down, gripping Stone by the shoulder, her other around his thigh, and lifts Stone back off his prone tag partner…

BILL HEWSON: Nobody has found the break in the Phenomenon belt-armor!

JACK JONES: Avoiding using the racial slur there, huh?

Nobody scoops Shane Stone back onto her shoulder, setting him up. Turning, she bulls across the ring, heavy steps pounding away, before she SLAMS into the Ill ring corner! The whole ring seems to move a foot to one side, and Nobody turns during the rebound from the impact! Lambert reaches out, slapping Nobody’s shoulder, and Stewie Lamoine does indeed make the signal… Legal tag!

BILL HEWSON: Nobody still has Stone! OKLAHOMA STAMPEDE!

JACK JONES: We’re taking a tour of the US heartland!

Nobody leaps into the air, bringing Stone down on top of Eric Cameron! BOOM goes the impact, and the Safeway Refresh-brand Natural Spring Water Championship faceplate shoots into the air, turning end over end before landing in the center of the ring! Stewie is quick to grab it and hand it off to a stagehand, as Lambert casually glides into the ring. Nobody drags Stone right out of the ring, before tossing him head-over-teakettle into the Phenomenal Army, shoulders tensed up and a roar of defiant fury blasting from beneath that marred mask!

JACK JONES: I think Nobody is about to EAT the Trailer Park Luchadore!

Lambert takes a microphone, then grooves and jives on over to the sprawled-out Eric Cameron and sits down in the ring beside the man. Cameron’s hands are limp, and he weakly coughs, his chest exposed but weakly heaving. Lambert leans down, resting on his elbow, and simply chats with Eric for a moment.

Lambert Haniel: You okay, buddy? Need a breather?

Eric Cameron: Been… Been better, man.

Lambert Haniel: No rush. We’ve just got a few thousand people wanting to see us tango.

Stewie Lamoine looks around, not sure if THIS was acceptable, and walks over to get both mens’ attention, shouting “Come on, fellas! Let’s fight!”

Lambert gestures to Stewie, mouthing to Eric “We should probably listen to the guy.”, before he rises to his feet, hands the mic to Lamoine, and offers Eric a hand. Eric nods, and takes Lambert’s hand. The Space-Guru helps Eric to his feet, brushing off his shoulder. Eric nods, and the two men set to work, unbuckling title belts and the straps holding them onto Eric.

JACK JONES: Did Eric just slip something into his mouth?

As Lambert finally gets Eric’s last title belt off of him, and looks into the man’s face. Eric’s cheeks bulge, and he goes to spray the Blue Mist…

BILL HEWSON: I didn’t know Lambert could do a split!

The blue mist sprays harmlessly overhead, catching absolutely none of Lambert’s eyes! But he reaches up, grabbing ahold of an invisible cord extending from his head, and Lambert pops back up to his feet, then simply snaps an openhanded slap into Eric’s chin, snapping his mouth shut! Eric lets out a howl of pain and stumbles away, holding his mouth in both hands! After biting his tongue, the blue mist dripping down his chin is marred with red! But as he turns around, Lambert hauls off and knife-edged CHOPPOs Cameron across the chest! Eric stumbles into the ring ropes, and Lambert comes in, grabbing Eric by the arm! A twist, and Lambert whips Eric off…

As Eric comes rushing back, Lambert hauls off and SNAPS a kick into Cameron’s chest! Eric stops, eyes growing wide…

JACK JONES: Look at Eric’s face! He’s going nuts!

Eric Cameron clenches both fists, and falls backwards into an approximation of a kung-fu stance, before he snaps out with a vicious roundhouse kick into Lambert’s chest! Lambert takes it hard, and falls a half-step back, only to fire off a kick in retaliation!

Eric catches it under his arm, and steps over, leaping and SMASHING a kick into Lambert’s face! Lambert drops, and Eric leaps back to his feet, pumping a fist into the air! Eric dashes to the Phenomenon ringcorner, where Shane had reluctantly gotten up onto the ring apron… And rebounds off the ropes! Shane comes in as Eric rushes across the ring. Lambert was sitting up, but Eric flies in, dropkicking Lambert in the face! Lambert snaps backwards into the mat hard, bouncing back up from sheer force, but Shane leaps over Lambert, grabbing Lambert’s head, and both men crash into the ground!

Shane puts an arm across Lambert’s chest, reaching for the leg for a proper pin attempt.

1!

2!

THR-Lambert throws an arm up, and simply rolls out of the ring, landing on his feet at ringside.

BILL HEWSON: What doubleteam work from the Phenomenons!

JACK JONES: They do work well together, that’s for sure.

BILL HEWSON: While Lambert and Nobody may be… closer than the Phenomenons, their fighting style doesn’t truly synch up as well as the World Tag Champs.

JACK JONES: Probably part of why the Phenoms fought through Tagstravaganza successfully!

Shane Stone follows Lambert out to the floor, and comes up behind Lambert, grabbing ahold of the man’s shoulders with both hands. He spins Lambert around… Only for the Space Pharaoh to lash out with a hand, two fingers jabbing deep into Shane Stone’s eye-sockets! The Phenomenon gives a howl in pain, but it gets choked off in mid-yelp by Lambert chopping him in the throat with the side of his hand! Lambert grabs Shane by the hair, turns, and runs Stone headfirst into the steel ringpost! Shane’s feet shoot out from under him, and he ends up splattered across the ringside protective mats!

BILL HEWSON: What a cheap shot from Haniel! Lambert lured Shane out there to use that ringpost!

JACK JONES: The fact that he used it in this particular match just means he got to it first.

Gritting his teeth, Lambert grabs ahold of Shane’s hair, and HAULS Shane off the mats, and back up, even though Shane had a hand clamped firmly to his eye. Shane grunts as he comes up, and is tossed right into the bottom rope, back into the ring.

Lambert rolls in after him, and as Shane comes to hands and knees, Lambert walks up, standing over Shane’s back, straddling the man. A hop upward, and Lambert SLAMS his pelvis down across the small of Shane’s back, almost dropping Shane down to the ground! Shane doggedly holds on, slowly trying to make his way to the Phenomenon corner, where Eric Cameron is beckoning him on…

Lambert leaps up, and comes crashing down onto Shane’s back once more! Not satisfied, Lambert leaps into the air, and lands with both feet on Shane’s back! Shane wobbles, wiggles, and tries to keep his balance… Until Lambert steps forward, foot resting on Shane’s head! He puts all his weight onto it, and crashes Shane headfirst into the mat!

BILL HEWSON: What a curbstomp! Lambert just splattered Shane’s cranium across the mats!

The Space Guru lands on his knees, arms reaching out to both sides to beckon to the fans. With how he’s been behaving recently, all Lambert gets is boos.

JACK JONES: Nobody doesn’t seem pleased with the crowd’s reception for Lambert!

BILL HEWSON: How can you tell? She’s smiling!

JACK JONES: Oh, ha ha. Say that to her lack of a face.

Lambert grabs Shane’s head, and even hooks his right arm, slowly dragging Shane’s limp carcass off the mat. With Shane up, Lambert straightens him out, checking the man’s balance, adjusting his shoulders…

And Lambert lashes out with a spin, kicking Shane in the back of the knees and sending him crashing to the mats!

BILL HEWSON: Beautiful legsweep from Lambert, but will he capitalize on it?

JACK JONES: You never know Lambert’s plans until after they’re done, Bill.

Lambert kneels beside Shane, giving a slow, malicious laugh, and pats Shane on the side of the face. He rises, and saunters over to the Eric Cameron corner, resting an arm on the top rope. He glances to Eric, eyebrows wiggling.

Lambert Haniel: How do you think you’re doing?

Eric Cameron: Dude. You have a magic sword inside you.

Lambert Haniel: I know. Isn’t it great?

Eric Cameron: Not fair. I want a magic space sword!

The Trailer Park Luchador comes rushing up, holding… a paper baggie. Eric glances to him, and leans down, only to be handed the baggie. The TPL points inside the bag, and Eric glances in… And his eyebrows shoot upward. Eric looks to the TPL, who nods and gives the thumbs up. Eric looks to Lambert.

Eric Cameron: Hey. Mind if I tag in? I want to do something super awesome.

Lambert thinks for a moment, then steps back, giving Shane plenty of room to crawl to Eric. Shane, disbelievingly, just crawls past Lambert, to Shane. Shane tags in, and hops the top rope, only to dig into the back. Stewie Lamoire looks on, eyes narrowed, not wanting him to pull out a lead pipe or something…

Eric Cameron: IT’S MORPHIN’ TIME!

Eric yanks a POWER MORPHER out of the baggie, and holds it up, depressing the thumb-button! Red LEDs blink and sparkle around the face of the Phenomenon Power Coin, and Eric just so happens to drop a little something onto the mat! Stewie looks at it, just in time for the obscenely bright flashpoppers to burst!

BILL HEWSON: MY EYES

JACK JONES: I DON’T WANT TO BE RAY CHARLES

When everyone’s vision comes back…

Eric Cameron is wearing a Power Rangers helmet. Or rather, a vintage Halloween mask from 1994 for the Green Power Ranger, repaired in a spot with a strip of duct tape. With his hands on his hips, Eric looks imperiously down at Lambert, who falls back a step, face contorting in fear and horror.

Lambert Haniel: NO! NOT THE POWER OF ZORDON!

Eric strikes up a fighting pose, before leaping in, executing a deft twist in midair, a back kick stamping into Lambert’s chest! Lambert executes a full backflip, lands on his feet, then sprawls out onto the mat, on his back!

Eric Cameron: PHENOMENAL RANGERS!

Cameron tags Shane Stone back in. Shane just stares as Eric climbs back out onto the apron, and the two stand there for a moment, staring at one another.

Eric Cameron: Aren’t you gonna get in the ring?

Shane shakes his head, and climbs into the ring… And as Lambert is getting up, Shane rushes in, diving onto his feet, and fires off a rapid-fire series of rights and lefts into Lambert’s stomach! Lambert hunches over as Shane pops up, grabs Lambert’s right arm, and brings it down, between Lambert’s legs! Shane’s other hand swings behind, grabbing the wrist. Shane grabs the neck… Pops the hips, and SHOOTS Lambert overhead!

THUNDEROUS KERRASH!

BILL HEWSON: Philotherianism-Plex!

JACK JONES: …what

BILL HEWSON: Wrist-clutch Exploder! Lambert’s done! Shane’s finis-

NOBODY

As Shane springs back to his feet, eyes wide and proud from hitting his finisher… Nobody come streaking out of nowhere, having rebounded off the opposite ring ropes, smashing into Shane like a runaway freight train! The Phenomenon had been still in midair, so not only was he hit by the impact of Nobody, but he wasn’t even moored by friction! Shane Stone not only hits the ring ropes, but he flies right through them, crashing to the floor in a heap!

JACK JONES: FORCE OF AN EXPLODING SUN! THAT’S HOW YOU DO A CALL, BILL!

Eric Cameron stands on the ring apron, still wearing his Power Rangers mask. Nobody stands over a limp, motionless Lambert Haniel, watching him. Cameron gulps… then musters his strength!

“Yaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

Eric charges, head-down at Nobody, who casually sidesteps and swooshes Cameron to the ropes! Somehow, the Phenomenal Ranger grabs the top rope to stop his momentum. Nobody CHARGES — EXPLODING —

Cameron trips, pulling the top rope down! Nobody sails over the top and out to the floor, crashing hard onto the concrete!

BILL HEWSON: I’m… pretty sure that was a complete accident, but it somehow worked in the champions’ favor!

JACK JONES: If by accident you mean BEST PLAN EVER!

BILL HEWSON: Or a complete fluke wait wait WAIT Cameron has a TITLE BELT!

JACK JONES: It’s the Snickers Peanut Butter Bar Tag Team Championship belt, Hewson! RUN LAMBERT RUN!

In the ring, the dazed Haniel is somehow onto a knee. He sways like a punch-drunk sci-fi Terry Funk, on his feet now, as Eric Cameron holds the nougaty-goodness packed belt up with both hands! Stewie Lamoine is telling him DON’T DO IT!

SNICKERS PEANUT BUTTER TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP BELT SHOT TO THE FACE OF HANIEL —

And the cheap replica belt EXPLODES into hundreds of pieces!

JACK JONES: OH MY GOD HANIEL IS DEAD! DEAD!

Except for when he’s not! Lambert Haniel stands, blinking in surprise. Cameron holds his hands open, jaw open in shock at the result of his ersatz belt shot! Referee Lamoine’s arms are splayed out to the sides!

BILL HEWSON: What are those belts even made of? Is that why Nobody broke one earlier?

For a moment in time, all three men stare at each other, completely unable to move in stunned surprise…

ERIC CAMERON WITH AN INSIDE CRADLE!

1!

2!

3!

FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners, and STILL NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS — THE PHENOMENONNNNNNNSSSSS!

Haniel sits right up. It’s hard to tell if his expression is one of fury… or amusement at Cameron’s flash pin. Eric leaps for joy shouting “RAPADOOOO,” then rolls out of the ring in a HURRY… because Nobody is getting in. He narrowly escapes her clutches, but at a hand from Haniel, Nobody lets the Phenomenon live. Cameron pumps his arms frantically with the enthusiasm of a seven-year-old finding the Honeycomb Hideout! He’s met by Shane Stone and the Phenomenal Army in the aisle, Cameron jumping into the arms of “Pops” Kohler in joy! Oh, the old man collapses as a result, the Pete the PG chimp helping him up. The Phenomenons look for their tag team title belts, and the timekeeper hands over the NAPW straps…

“Where are the rest?!”

The timekeeper holds his hands up, and suddenly Stone and Cameron look around —

JACK JONES: It’s Gustav!

BILL HEWSON: Gustav is making off with the sack containing all of the Rabble’s fake championships!

JACK JONES: Listen, Hewson, just because NAPW chooses not to recognize the Rabble’s sheer dominance world-over —

BILL HEWSON: Here come the Phenomenons!

Cameron and Stone charge up the aisle after Gustav! The singular Rabble member is nearly to the curtain, but the giant sack is holding him back! Eric and Shane shove Gustav down…

ERNST. GRETA. THE RABBLE burst through the curtain and NAIL both Phenomenons! Trailer Park Luchadore charges in, met with a big boot from Ernst! Shane gets to his feet — BACKSTABBER from Greta! Ernst with a LARIAT on Eric Cameron! The NAPW Tag Team Champions are down on the ground…

BILL HEWSON: It’s been months since Ernst and Greta were put out of action, broken jaws at the hands of THOSE THAT WOULD INFLICT ILL — and it looks like they are BACK!

JACK JONES: The Phenomenons just found that out, and it doesn’t look like any party to me! Yipe!

Ernst easily swings the sack of Rabblicious belts over his shoulders… and then he and Greta stare down to the ring, locking eyes with Lambert Haniel and Nobody.

Greta: Tonight, mein herrs, we take back our rightful titles. Next month… at Sole Survivor… we will take back our NAPW Tag Team Championship when we cash in our rematch, ja. And as for you “Ill”…

Greta nods, rubbing her jaw, signifying that they haven’t forgotten what happened at TAGSTRAVAGANZA. Not one bit! Ernst cracks his neck. In the ring, Haniel suddenly wears a SINISTER smile. Nobody looks ready to go right back to war…

LIGHTS OUT.

JACK JONES: Um, this is never good for anybody…

And then there is light. Light from the FIRE.

The fire that seems suspended in mid-air, in the outline of a jackal. Anubis. The God of the Dead.

BILL HEWSON: What in the world…

The fiery shape flickers into embers, and the lights flick back on.

There is no sign of the Rabble. No sign of the Phenomenons.

But LEGION are in the ring.

BILL HEWSON: Masakre and Matanza! Wait a minute!

Nobody crouches, preparing to strike, as the two masked monsters examine their prey…

Lights out.

Lights on.

LEGION are gone.

JACK JONES: How — how did they do that? What was that ABOUT?

BILL HEWSON: I hardly know, Jack Attack, but Lambert Haniel — he looks like he’s seen a ghost!

Perhaps for the first time, the NAPW fans see Lambert Haniel disconcerted. The Funk Fantastic, for once, seems to have no words or response.

BILL HEWSON: Seems like as good a time as any to go to intermission! Stay tuned, iPPV fans! Our main event tonight — Bruiser Breton takes on Andellion Moonwater, Heritage title on the line!


-INTERMISSION-


JACK JONES: … got a bucket of ice water dumped on my head, then I donated $100 to ALS research. I think you, Terry Brandon and Jake Phoenix should do the same.

BILL HEWSON: I’m mighty proud of you for doing the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, Jack Attack!

JACK JONES: What’s the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge?

BILL HEWSON: …

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, the follow match is for ONE FALL.

“HERE WE ARE. BORN TO BE KINGS.

WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE!”

FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED pounds. From Winnipeg, Manitoba, and being accompanied to the ring by his father, CHASE! LIONHEART! KRIS! JACOBSOOOOOON!

The crowd pops as KRIS JACOBSON, flanked by his father CHASE, emerges from the curtains. He looks fired up!

BILL HEWSON: Kris Jacobson is hungry for a win, and he’s up against a huge opponent tonight. A win against the former world champ would be a big momentum builder heading into Sole Survivor.

JACK JONES: The problem is he’s got to actually beat the former champ, Hewson.

Kris glad-hands his way down the ramp and slides into the ring, while Chase takes up a spot in his corner. The two exchange a few words as the music fades… and is replaced by Disturbed.

FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED and SEVENTY SEVEN pounds. From St. Petersburgh, Russia, and being accompanied to the ring by JACKSON KASS. He is the SOVIET SLAUGHTERHOUSE…. ANTOOOOOOON! PETROOOOOOV!

The crowd gives another cheer as ANTON PETROV strides out of the curtains, with pudgy JACKSON KASS right behind him. Petrov stops to stretch his neck and crack his knuckles on the stage, glaring a hole into Kris down in the ring.

BILL HEWSON: I don’t envy Kris Jacobson, tonight. Knowingly or not, he’s standing between Petrov and the man he REALLY wants to get his hands on… Joshua Rapture.

JACK JONES: As the old saying goes, you don’t stand between a drunken Russian and his enemy, Hewson!

BILL HEWSON: That’s not an old saying.

JACK JONES: Oh. Well, it should be.

Petrov starts down the ramp, then climbs into the ring. Kass takes up a spot in his corner as the former champ stalks toward the middle of the ring and looks down his nose at Jacobson. Kris stares right back, and Anton cracks a smirk. Referee Martin Chan checks that both men are ready to go… and calls for the bell!

DING! DING! DING!

The Soviet Slaughterhouse isn’t bothering with locking up to start and immediately unloads with a right that soars over Jacobson’s head. Lionheart ducks behind Petrov, and as the Russian turns around, he leaps at him for a standing dropkick. Anton deftly backpedals away from it – and Kris lands on his feet. Petrov tries to take advantage of the missed spot and surges forward for a clothesline, but Jacobson ducks aside and his the ropes! Petrov’s momentum carries him to the ropes as well and both men rebound toward the middle where the Soviet Slaughterhouse and Lionheart collide and tumble to the canvas! The crowd cheers and applauds the exchange!

BILL HEWSON: Lots of opening action! Petrov maybe thinking he could finish Kris Jacobson off quickly – but Jacobson’s speed and technique aren’t going to make that easy.

JACK JONES: Take it from me, Hewson. You can dance around Petrov all day – but with his power, he only needs to hit you ONCE to finish you off.

Petrov is smirking again as he rises. Jacobson is also quickly back on his feet – but before he can act, Anton is back on the offence, unloading a sweet STO that takes Kris off his feet! Before Kris can fully recover, the Soviet Slaughterhouse yanks him up by a handful of hair, locks him up… and plants him with a Front Face-Lock Slam! The crowd groans in sympathy.

JACK JONES: See, this is over already, Hewson!

Anton rolls his opponent over and there’s a pin! 1! Just one, though. Chase Jacobson pounds on the mat, rallying his son. Petrov hauls a wobbly Jacobson back up again, and this time whips him into a neutral corner – hard! Jacobson crashes into the corner, wincing, then slowly turns around in time to see the Soviet Slaughterhouse barrelling toward him at full steam! Petrov with a HUGE turnbuckle shoulder strike…

But NOBODY’S HOME!

Jacobson leap-frogs him and Petrov crashes into the ringpost with a loud Russian expletive! As Anton pulls himself away from the corner, Jacobson climbs the ropes next to him… Tornado DDT! Petrov is planted like a tentpole in the canvas to a huge cheer! He crashes down on his back, and Jacobson is already on his feet and heading for the ropes… springboard… Lionsault… nope… LEOSAULT! He hooks the leg!

1!

2!

Kickout at 2.

BILL HEWSON: Petrov may have power, but Jacobson is fast and smart, taking advantage whenever and however he can. I don’t think you or Petrov gave him enough credit, Jack Attack.

Now it’s Jackson Kass pounding on the mat to support his charge. Petrov isn’t smirking anymore as he rises, but hesitates when he notices that Kris IS smirking. And it’s because of the crowd.

“LET’S GO PETROV! LI-ON-HEART! LET’S GO PETROV! LI-ON-HEART!”

JACK JONES: Stupid wishy-washy fans. Pick a side already!

Petrov and Jacobson circle each other, and this time they lock up. It’s not much of a contest, the powerhouse Petrov quickly gets the leverage he needs to whip Kris into the ropes. Lionheart rebounds and the Anton goes to catch him for a tremendous powerslam… but Kris ROLLS over his back, keeps running, hits the ropes! Petrov’s eyes boggle and he turns around… into a flying forearm smash! The Soviet Slaughterhouse teeters, staggers and sags… but doesn’t fall!

SUPERKICK!

BILL HEWSON: I think I just saw Anton’s teeth fly into the crowd!

That finally takes Petrov off his feet! The crowd cheers as he goes for the pin!

1!

2!

Kickout at two-and-a-half!

JACK JONES: That was close!

BILL HEWSON: Both of these men want this win badly – Petrov to get himself back into contention, and Jacobson feels like maybe he has something to prove.

Anton Petrov is a bit slower to his feet this time – a fact that Jacobson takes advantage of, leaping up for a Hurricanrana! But Petrov catches him and reverses it into a sweet POWERBOMB instead! The crowd groans and Petrov holds on for the pin!

1!

2!

And this time it’s Jacobson who’s kicking out. Petrov has worked up a sweat. Kass is looking nervous in the corner. Chase is again pounding on the mat, trying to urge Kris up. Petrov is up first and he grabs Kris, twisting him into the Communist Clutch! Jacobson cries out, at Martin Chan gets in his face, checking to see if he surrenders!

BILL HEWSON: That’s some cunning strategy from Petrov. Lionheart has speed on his side, so it’s time to slow things down.

JACK JONES: Not only that, they’re right in the middle of the ring! Jacobson has nowhere to go!

The crowd starts rallying behind Kris, in part thanks to his dad working them up at ringside. Petrov scowls as Jacobson tries to twist himself closer to the ropes – then drives an elbow into his side! Kris howls, and Petrov unleashes another, then another! Jacobson won’t give in, though, and finally – finally – manages to manoeuvre himself to where he can get a foot on the bottom rope! The crowd cheers as Chan calls for the ropebreak, and the Soviet Slaughterhouse obliges, backing off. Jacobson hangs on the rope for a moment, wincing and clutching his ribs, then turns… to a LOU THESZ PRESS! Petrov unloads a few lefts and rights, then backs off after Jacobson catches the ropes again! This time, Anton doesn’t give him any breathing room, just hauling Kris up and whipping him into the ropes. Jacobson rebounds and Petrov catches him… but Kris floats through… JACOBSON DRIVER!

BILL HEWSON: What a reversal!

JACK JONES: It’s an upset, Hewson! An upset!

And he hooks the leg! The crowd is on the edge of its seat, counting along!

1!

2!

THKICKOUT!

Lionheart is looking spent. Petrov is also breathing hard. Both managers are pounding on the ring apron, urging the two competitors to their feet. The Soviet Slaughterhouse slowly rolls over and then gets up on one knee, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He then pulls himself up, doubled over and breathing hard… and Kris Jacobson KIPS up to a huge pop! He rushes the ropes, springs to the top… WINNER’S CIRCLE…

… and Petrov snatches him out of the air like a fly…

POWERSLAM!

BILL HEWSON: What power!

The ring SHAKES from the impact and Petrov goes for the pin!

1!

2!

KICKOUT!

The crowd cheers as Petrov pounds the mat in frustration. Chase is breathing a sigh of relief – looks like he thought that was it, too! The Soviet Slaughterhouse rises to his feet, and Kris slowly rolls over and begins pulling himself up. Petrov backs up a half-step for Jacobson to turn around…

SOVIET SUCKERPUNCH!

JACK JONES: Good night Lionheart!

Jacobson spins a full circle before crashing to the middle of the ring! Petrov covers! This is it!

1!

2!

KICKOUT!

JACK JONES: ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

The NAPW fans are going NUTS. Jackson Kass looks like he’s about to eat his hat. Anton Petrov has a grim look on his face as he rises back to his feet. He looks down at Kris, who’s already moving again, grabbing Petrov’s leg and trying to pull himself up on his tights. Petrov shouts down at him. “Just STAY DOWN already, comrade!” Then he reaches down, and hauls Jacobson up onto his shoulders… SOVIET STEAMROLLER!

BILL HEWSON: Good GOD the onslaught! How is Kris Jacobson still alive!?

Petrov spins around on the mat and covers Jacobson, hooking the leg. This is academic at this point. Martin Chan slides in for the pin.

THRKICKOUT!

Biggest

CHEER

Petrov’s mouth is literally hanging open in disbelief.

JACK JONES: Wasn’t that Petrov’s finishing move!? IS THAT NOT THE MOVE HE USES TO FINISH MATCHES!? WHY IS THE MATCH NOT FINISHED, HEWSON!?

Apparently, the Soviet Steamroller WAS his finishing move – but not anymore. Jackson Kass looks faint. Chase is clapping and urging on the crowd. Kris is still alive. He’s STILL ALIVE. He’s moving toward the ropes very slowly… is he seeking escape? Will he ask Chase to throw in the towel? Is he digging deep, looking for some final offensive burst? Does he even know where he is anymore? We may never know because Petrov catches him by the back of his tights and pulls him back up… up onto his shoulders again, then holds him up high over the ring…

SOVIET SPIKE!

And the pin!

1!

2!

3!

KICKOUT TOO LATEEEEEEE!

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner… the SOVIET SLAUGHTERHOUSE! ANTOOOOOON! PETROOOOOOV!

The crowd is going bananas as Disturbed hits the speakers again!

BILL HEWSON: Kris Jacobson kicked out of every move! He even had the life in him to kick out of the Soviet Spike!

JACK JONES: A second too late, but I’ll grant it to him. Apparently, Lionheart is the man who WILL NOT DIE!

BILL HEWSON: What a showing… uh oh.

The fans begin to quiet down and worriedly grumble as Anton Petrov stands over top of Jacobson, expression unreadable. His hands curl into fists.

BILL HEWSON: Don’t do it!

Petrov reaches down… pulls a woozy Kris Jacbson up to his feet…

… and then claps him on the shoulder with a nod.

The crowd cheers again as Petrov climbs out of the ring, leaving Jacobson to collapse into his corner.

BILL HEWSON: I thought Petrov was about to do something rash, but it looks like he may have earned a measure of respect for Kris Jacobson tonight.

JACK JONES: Cripes, Hewson. After seeing him suffer through that beating, I’VE earned a measure of respect for Kris Jacobson tonight.

As Petrov and Kass head up the ramp in victory, Chase Jacobson commiserates with Kris who watches the Soviet Slaughterhouse head up to the curtains. Chase seems pleased with his son’s performance… but you can tell how disappointed Kris is.

BILL HEWSON: A tough loss, but a hell of a match.

JACK JONES: It can all get turned around next month at Sole Survivor! One win there, and you’re challenging for the NAPW World Title!

BILL HEWSON: A title we still don’t know the future of, but hopefully we’ll be finding out tonight.


Get your NAPW merchandise at shows or online at NAPW-online.com! Wear the colors of the champ with the ‘ABBEY “GODDAMN” GRAVES” t-shirt! Frighten your friends with a NOBODY mask! Assorted I’M A RABBLE ROUSER temporary tattoos! New SOVIET SLAUGHTERHOUSE hoodie! And of course, all your latest DEVINE ARMY merchandise! Support your favorites and show your pride in pro wrestling!


JACK JONES: And on that day, that day, I became a man.

BILL HEWSON: Just because you ate an entire Mountain High Mudd Pie at Red Robin by yourself…

JACK JONES: Hey, I also started with the Calamarvelous!

BILL HEWSON: Will you be serious?

JACK JONES: That’s seriously what they call their calamari.

BILL HEWSON: … huh.

The fans ERUPT in boos when the country metal cowpunk of Hank III twangs through the speakers, “Branded” heralding the arrival of…

JACK JONES: Here we go!

FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is set for ONE FALL! Introducing first, at a combined weight of SIX-hundred and TWENTY pounds, they are Bryan Marshall and John Mitchell — the KENTUCKY HELLBILLIES!!

JACK JONES: You know…We seem to get a lot of people from Kentucky up here.

BILL HEWSON: For once, a valid statement. The Hellbillies returned in June at Tagstravaganza, where they brutally assaulted Chase Jacobson. Then last month, Mitchell and Marshall interfered in the Tag Title match, costing the A-Team the gold.

JACK JONES: The match wasn’t over, you don’t know the A-Team were going to win!

BILL HEWSON: The Hellbillies’ actions directly led to the pinfall victory for the Phenomenons. We heard from the Hellbillies earlier, they’re putting the entire tag team division on notice.

JACK JONES: And they may start tonight with A-Team!

The Hellbillies hit the ring, two big, tough, angry southern boys ready for a fight. They’ll fight anybody; if security would let them, they’d fight the first three rows. Four on Saturdays.

JACK JONES: Go home, A-Team! Nobody would think less of you for not wanting to tangle with these two cowboys from hell.

BILL HEWSON: I don’t think that will be happening… wait, what IS happening?

From the side doors of the Polish Hall, an arsenal of kilt-clad, full Scottish regalia men have come in. One of Edmonton’s pipe bands has arrived — and they’re creating an ‘aisle’ of their own. They march into place. The drummers snap off a series of rolls, and then the pipes sound:

BILL HEWSON: A traditional Scottish ballad if there was one… One of Edmonton’s fine pipe hands regaling us with a wonderful performance here!

With a final drum flourish, the pipe band comes to a rest. The fans look to the curtain, eagerly, anxiously wondering what will be next. The pipes have stirred their emotions! The Polish Hall is silent, the fans starting to find their voices, chanting “A-TEAM, A-TEAM, A-TEAM”…

And as their voices crescendo, THIS HITS.

BILL HEWSON: They’re going to blow the roof of this place!

The crowd screams and cheers… and then the A-TEAM storm through the curtain. Kerry! Randy! Cyndi! They’ve forgone their usual attire for gear that at once homages both DEMOLITION and the ROAD WARRIORS! Spiked shoulder pads! Black studded trunks! Cyndi clearly done up in tribute to the great LUNA VACHON!! Randy and Kerry with face paint that blends Animal, Hawk, Ax and Smash!

FACES PAINTED FOR WAR.

THE. CROWD.

FRANK WARBURTON: AND THEIR OPPONENTS! ACCOMPANIED BY “STRIKING” CYNDI! “STUNNING” KERRY SAVAGE! “RAVISHING” RANDY ERICH! THEEEEEE AAAAAAAAA-TEEEEEEEEEAAAMMMMM!!!

JACK JONES: WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING I DON’T —

BILL HEWSON: The A-Team — to battle the Kentucky Hellbillies — have become a veritable LEGION OF DOOM!

The A-Team head to the ring, stopping outside to remove their spiked shoulder pads. The referee is “THE MOOSE” Mark Millar. Maybe he should show more neutrality but the bearded Moose is frikkin’ LOVING what he’s seeing. The Hellbillies, not so much. Cyndi takes the shoulder pads and Randy and Kerry get into the ring. They hit the turnbuckles to soak in the deafening fans! The Hellbillies immediately attack The A-Team from behind! Referee Moose calls for the bell!

DING DING DING

BILL HEWSON: And we’re off!

They quickly pair off as Kerry Savage brawls with John Mitchell, and Randy Erich trades fists with Bryan Marshall! Savage is whipped into the ropes, but Mitchell drops his head too soon and Kerry leapfrogs over him. Mitchell stands, turns and eats a beautiful standing dropkick to the mush that sends him tumbling through the top and second ring rope down to the arena floor. On the other side of the ring, Marshall shoots Erich into the near turnbuckle. Marshall follows him in and takes a boot to the face that stops him in his tracks. Kerry struggles but somehow hits a back suplex on the bigger man and watches as Marshall rolls to the outside.

BILL HEWSON: The A-Team need to use their speed to stay in this!

JACK JONES: And maybe a few low blows.

Moose is doing his best to restore order and gets The A-Team into their corner and yells at The Hellbillies until they get situated. It looks like it’ll be Kerry Savage and Bryan Marshall officially starting this match off. They go to lock up in the middle of the ring but Savage ducks under the outstretched arms of his opponent. Savage bum rushes the Hellbillies corner, hits a basement dropkick on Mitchell who drops off the ring apron and connects with the ring apron with his head on his way down! Marshall tries to grab Savage, but the smaller man tumbles out of the way and Marshall turns around just in time to get nailed with a high flying body press off the top rope from Randy! Marshall rolls Randy off of him before Moose can even count and quickly gets to his feet.

JACK JONES: Pfffft. Like The A-Team of all people could beat The Hellbillies so quick.

BILL HEWSON: You know they WERE Tag Team Champions, right? They BEAT the Hellbillies, Usual Suspects AND the Rabble in a Ladder match back in January?

JACK JONES: Like the Hellbillies said, that was January. All the face paint in the world isn’t going to save the A-Team from a good old country whipping!

Mitchell slides into the ring and Moose rushes over to keep him from going any further. Savage ducks a clothesline and hits a dropkick to the left knee of Marshall causing him to drop to one knee. Superkick from Randy! Marshall is down on his back! Randy Erich hits the ropes and Kerry Savage back drops his own partner onto The Hellbilly — into a modified swanton! Moose shoes Randy out of the ring as Marshall is dragged to his feet. Marshall is whipped into the ropes and takes a boot to the gut doubling him over. Million dollar knee lift from Kerry! The move spins Marshall around and Randy runs down the ring apron and hits a clothesline on the dazed Marshall! Roll up from behind by Kerry but Moose is busy with Randy before he notices the pin!

1!

2!

Kick out!

JACK JONES: Gah! That was close! Where did they pick THAT up?

BILL HEWSON: Again, the A-Team are former Tag Team Champions, Jack…

As he’s being pulled to his feet, Marshall rakes the eyes of Kerry! Marshall tags in Mitchell, who rushes in — only to take a drop toe hold that sends him to the mat face first! Kerry tags in Randy and Mitchell gets to his feet only to take a double ax handle from the top rope from the high flyer! Mitchell is still upright, but on wobbly legs, as Randy hits the ropes. A big boot to the face of Randy! The A-Team member staggers against the ropes and stumbles off right into the arms of Mitchell. FALLAWAY SLAM! Mitchell grabs the arm of Randy and drags him into the Hellbillies corner. Mitchell tags in Marshall. Mitchell holds Randy as Marshall buries a knee into the gut of his foe. Marshall whips Randy into the ropes and hits a sidewalk slam onto the smaller man, Marshall wastes no time in tagging back in Mitchell and the duo whip Randy into the far turnbuckle. Randy hits hard and is swallowed up a moment later with a running clothesline by Mitchell. Mitchell pulls Randy out of the corner, scoops him up and slams him hard in the center of the ring. Marshall is tagged in and drops a big elbow across the chest of Savage!

BILL HEWSON: Kerry Savage is getting brutalized!

JACK JONES: Or it is…He’s getting ‘Savaged?’

Bryan Marshall drags Randy to his feet, but eats a desperation drop down jaw breaker from Savage! Randy rolls to his corner and tags in Kerry! Kerry comes in like a house on fire and drills Marshall with a trio of hard right hands before the bigger man can even realize what’s going on! Mitchell is in the ring and rushes at the pair but Kerry sidesteps him and Mitchell drops his own partner with a brutal clothesline! Marshall rolls to the outside and Kerry hits a dropkick to the back of Mitchell that sends him to the outside as well! Kerry rolls to the outside and Marshall is back peddling away from him. Kerry suddenly stops, smiles and Randy blasts into frame with a suicide dive over the tope rope and down onto Marshall! The crowd is going crazy as Kerry turns —

and takes a vicious clothesline that stops the crowd dead.

Mitchell pulls Kerry up and shoves him into the ring, rolling in behind. Kerry staggers to his feet, only to be hooked for a vicious German suplex! Mitchell watches as Kerry pulls himself to his feet. Belly to belly suplex! Kerry is pulled up, shot into the ropes, and takes a knee to the small of the back from Marshall (who has recovered from his aerial attack). Kerry staggers right into a Samoan drop. Marshall is tagged in and The Hellbillies take full advantage of the five count as they kick away at the prone Kerry Savage. Moose finally gets Mitchell to the outside as Marshall drags Kerry to his feet. Marshall whips Kerry into the corner and follows him with a big avalanche. Boot choke!! Again the “Cowboy From Hell” waits until the last possible second to break. Moose is looking beyond frustrated.

BILL HEWSON: Moose has his hands full with these teams. Neither are willing to give an inch and The Kentucky Hellbillies simply don’t care.

Marshall drags Kerry to their corner and goes to tag in Mitchell when Savage suddenly locks in his ‘Savage Claw’ on the abdomen of the bigger man! Kerry takes a stiff forearm shot to the face that causes a break and Mitchell comes in off the tag. Scoop up and slam leaves Kerry writhing in pain as Randy is stomping on the mat and clapping to get the fans back into it. Mitchell reaches down to grab Kerry but is suddenly rolled up into a pin attempt!

1!

2!

Mitchell kicks out!

JACK JONES: Another close call! Geez, I hope that The Kentucky Hellbillies are taking these guys seriously. I have $100 riding on this.

BILL HEWSON: That’s all?

Mitchell is quickly back to his feet and reaches out for Kerry just as he tries to lunge towards his corner. More by luck, Mitchell grabs the right leg of Kerry and starts to drag him away from the A-Team corner. Kerry gets to his feet, and stuns a smug looking Mitchell with an enziguri! The crowd is on the edge of their seats as Kerry crawls to his corner. Marshall rushes into the ring just as Kerry lunges and gets the tag from Randy! The crowd pops huge as Randy comes in and lights up Mitchell with kicks and punches! Wait! Moose is shoving Randy back towards his corner shaking his head! He never saw the tag!

BILL HEWSON: Damn it! He made the tag but Moose was distracted trying to get Bryan Marshall out of the ring! Come on, ref!

JACK JONES: Classic Tag Team wrestling there buddy!

A smiling Mitchell pulls Kerry to his feet and whips him into the Hellbillies corner. Marshall is tagged in and Kerry takes a brutal double suplex. Marshall drops an elbow across the chest of Kerry! Marshall follows suit! Randy is back in but Moose has to work to get him back on the apron. The Hellbillies are all smiles as they drag Kerry up and shoot him into the ropes. Both men drop their heads a moment to early allowing Kerry to lash out with a kick and punt Marshall in the head!

JACK JONES: Oh no!

Mitchell pops up, charges at Kerry but Savage drops down pulling the top rope with him! Mitchell sails over the top rope and lands hard on the floor outside! The fans are BEGGING for a tag! Kerry leaps…

HOT TAG RANDY ERICH!!

HOUSEAFARRRRRR!

Randy leaps up to the top rope and takes flight with a missile dropkick to Marshall! Randy kips up, again heads to the high rent district and hits his ‘Ravishing Elbow Drop!’

1!

2!

Mitchell in to break it up!

JACK JONES: OHMEHGAWD. That was close.

BILL HEWSON: The A-Team refuse to give up!

Kerry is back in the ring and the four men are now brawling as Moose tries to get SOME kind of control! Marshall whips Randy into the ropes and goes for a clothesline! Kerry ducks under and nails a jumping swinging DDT onto Marshall! Mitchell whips Randy into the corner and charges in after him. Boot to the face! Mitchell staggers back! Randy pulls himself up to the second rope and takes flight! Mitchell catches him in mid air!

JACK JONES: Like so much dirty laundry —

BILL HEWSON: Caught in mid-air, but waitaminute, there’s ERICH!!

Randy drops down on all fours behind Mitchell… and the big man falls back with Kerry on top!

1!

2!

3!

FRANK WARBURTON: The winners of the match… THE AAAAA-TEEEEEAAAAAM!!

BILL HEWSON: They win! The A-Team pull off a shocking win!

JACK JONES! What the what!?

The fans are losing their minds as the A-Team and Striking Cyndi celebrate with SO much enthusiasm! They’re jumping for joy as the Hellbillies head up the aisle, furious that they came up short tonight. They’re following referee Moose, Mitchell arguing about a quick count. Moose waves them off and ducks through the curtain. The Hellbillies follow, none too pleased with the result…

But nobody is paying attention to that, because Glenn Frye kicks in and the A-Team take three corners!! Erich, Savage, Cyndi, all pointing skyward!

BILL HEWSON: A tremendous match! Tremendous! The A-Team coming through in the end with a helluva victory and damn, it’s got to feel good! They’ve been screwed every which way for months but TONIGHT, the A-TEAM come out on top!

JACK JONES: I — yeah, I gotta give it to you. They were on FIRE here at Heritage Havoc!

BILL HEWSON: No question! That won’t be the last we hear from the Kentucky Hellbillies but tonight, YOUR WINNERS — “Stunning” Kerry Savage! “Ravishing” Randy Erich! “Striking” Cyndi! THE A-TEAM! Wow!

The A-Team embrace in the middle of the ring as the fans chant “THANK YOU A-TEAM! THANK YOU A-TEAM!”

The heat.

Is on.


After the show, be sure to check out Stan’s Savoury House of Ribs, home of the RIBMERGENCY platter, and the Eat-or-Die dinner special! We deliver in South Edmonton! Remember, when you think “RIBS” think “STAN!” Bring in your ticket stub from this event for a free side of your choice! Proud sponsor of NAPW HERITAGE HAVOC!


JACK JONES: And that’s how I invented the segue.

BILL HEWSON: You did NOT invent the segue.

JACK JONES: Didn’t I, Bill? DIDN’T I??

BILL HEWSON: No.

JACK JONES: Well, speaking of segues (seewhatIdidthere?), I-

LET ME TAKE YOU DOWN,
CAUSE I’M GOING TO,
STRAWBERRY FIELDS.

A cheer erupts as LARDO emerges from the curtain with a big smile on his face. Shaking hands and kissing babies on the the way down the aisle. He slides… well more like wiggles.. under the bottom rope and asks for a microphone.

BILL HEWSON: It looks like Lardo has something to say!

JACK JONES: He’s not even supposed to be here today!

Lardo: I know, I know. You’re all thinking that I’m not even supposed to be here today.

JACK JONES: I just said that!

BILL HEWSON: You be quiet!

Lardo: But ever since last month I’ve had a lot to think about. Bristol, I’m really sorry about last month. I think you’re a great competitor. What does everybody else here think!

A confused audience politely claps, a few boo loudly.

Lardo: And she has really pretty eyes!

The audience chuckles at this statement, Lardo starts hamming it up for the crowd. He soaks in their cheers as a “Go Lardo OH!” chants breaks out. After little bit, Lardo get a serious look on his face and speaks again.

Lardo: BUT. That’s not why I’m here. No, I’m here to address the Jay Deschain situation. The Jay Deschain problem! Because Jay, last month you got your slimy hands on Abbey Graves. You injured the NAPW champion, but more importantly you hurt my friend! And, Abbey, I just wanted this time to say that we’re pulling for you to get better! We here in NAPW love you! And I lo-

“WEELLLLLLL,

I BELIEVE IN MY SOUL

AND I’M GOING ON HOME

HALLELUJAH.”

The confused crowd looks to the stage…

And then out steps Joshua Rapture.

BILL HEWSON: Rapture IS here. He’s been missing in action since our last show… why now?

BOOs drown out “Move Up” by Patty Griffin as Joshua smiles and jovially bounces down the ramp, imitating Lardo by looking for hands to slap — only to be met with a faceful of jeers and thumbs down.

BILL HEWSON: What is going on here? Is Joshua Rapture challenging Lardo to match right now?

JACK JONES: I don’t know, but I for one love it! We fight here on Friday nights, Maggle!

BILL HEWSON: Who’s Maggle?

JACK JONES: I.. don’t know. I think I just had an acid flashback. Did I ever tell you I was on Ken Kesey’s Magic Bus?

Before Bill can respond, Joshua snatches the microphone out of Lardo’s hands and gets right in Laurence’s face.

Joshua Rapture: Oh, Lardo. OH! Lardo, Lardo, Lardo… Hello little lamb. Is that why you’re out here little lamb? Because your fwend got hurt?? … You just wanted to give Abbey Graves your best wishes! …Let me tell you something LARDO. You are wasting MY time. You are in MY ring. And right now a LICENSED OFFICIAL is going to come down to this ring… And I’m going to show you what happens to lambs when the harvest is through.

Referee Stewie Lamoine runs from the back, huffing and puffing, as the fans throw their support behind Lardo! Rapture smiles beatifically…

BILL HEWSON: It looks like Stewie Lamoine is out telling Lardo that we are going to see an impromptu match right now!

Joshua slinks in a corner as Lamoine asks if Lardo accepts the challenge. Lardo nods with a look of surprise and hesitantly puts up his dukes. Joshua chuckles. The bell rings.

Lardo looks for a lock-up but Joshua ducks under and grabs a waistlock, before lightly slapping Lardo on the back and easing off. Lardo charges again, Joshua ducks again this time slapping Lardo stiffly between the shoulder blades and again easing off his opponent. Lardo, more seriously now, goes for the collar-and-elbow. Only to receive a knee to the gut, doubling him over. Joshua locks-in a headlock and soaks in the jeers from the crowd. Lardo backs into the ropes, pushing off Joshua, but Joshua grabs a handful of hair and puts the headlock back in.

JACK JONES: This isn’t exactly a wrestling clinic, Hewson.

BILL HEWSON: I have no clue as to what frame of mind Rapture is in, but he clearly isn’t taking this contest seriously…

Stewie Lamoine gets on Joshua’s case for the blatant hair-pull, but Joshua ignores him with a look of total serenity. Lardo pushes Joshua off again, no hair this time. And Joshua runs into a brick wall! Big shoulder by Lardo, Joshua with the look of shock on his face now as he scrambles up off the canvas. Joshua, up again, puts his hand up looking for a Test of Strength. Lardo doesn’t have any of it and grabs Joshua for another irish whip. Joshua reverses. Short-Arm Clothesline.

Lardo. Doesn’t. Budge.

Another Clothesline. Nothing. Clothesline. Nada. CLOTHESLINE. NOPE.

Joshua paintbrushes Lardo with a slap! Lardo staggers a bit and shoves Joshua back. Joshua flys backward in-between the ropes. Rebound Lariatooo-No! Reversed! Drop Toe- NO! Joshua leaps over the massive man. Lardo, on the mat, tries to trip up Rapture. Rapture leaps over, hits the ropes again. Lardo scrambles up and Joshua runs into a big knee, flipping through the air. Lardo covers and gets a one count for his troubles.

BILL HEWSON: Lardo is on the offensive!

JACK JONES: Well, his stench is offensive…

BILL HEWSON: WILL you be serious?

Lardo grabs Rapture and hauls him up. Rapture gets a shot in to Lardo’s gut. Another. Lardo clubs Joshua over the back. Rapture respond with another slap to face. Lardo with a slap! Rapture. Lardo. Rapture! Lardo with a straight punch! “Ooooooh” goes the crowd as Rapture staggers. Rapture’s looks at Lardo, balling his hand into a fist. Rapture with a roundhouse..Lardo ducks! Snap DDT! Shades of Abbey Graves! Lardo covers again and gets a two!

JACK JONES: Wait, what?

BILL HEWSON: That was a near-fall, Jack Attack!

Lardo’s stamina starting to wear now, wipes the sweat off his brow and grabs Joshua again — Rapture with a fish hook! Rapture ripping at the face of Lardo as he rolls off the canvas. Lardo is paralyzed with pain. Lamoine starts to count and Joshua lets up at 4 and three-quarters. Rapture gets behind the kneeling Lardo. Traps his arm. And starts raining down elbows. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six! Seven! Eight! NINE! TEN! Rapture hits the ropes and connects with the Sliding D! He covers.

ONE! TWO! KICK-OUT!

Rapture looks a little amazed and pulls the dazed Lardo up to his knees. Joshua stops and crucifies Lardo’ arms and soaks in the boos of the crowd. Rapture bends down to set up the Martyr’s Burden.. But Lardo pushes him off! Joshua runs at Lardo and gets a big back elbow! Clunky Clothesline by Lardo! Bionic Elbow! Joshua flings himself into the ropes…

Rebound LARIATOOO!

Kills Lardo Dead. Both men down, Lamoine starts to count.

One!

Two!

Three!

BILL HEWSON: Both men have dished out — and received — unreal punishment! And I can’t believe I’m actually saying that about Lardo, but he is hanging with Rapture every step of the way!

Four!

Five!

Six!

Rapture’s up to a knee, Lardo starts shaking his cobwebs out. Joshua Rapture starts making his way over to Lardo, starts laying in stiff little toe kicks to Lardo’s side. Lardo is groaning and starting to make his way to his feet. Joshua takes a quick look over his shoulder and goes to irish whip Lardo into a corner. Lardo reverses into his own irish whip! Joshua goes to leap over the charging Lardo — gets caught! Rapture up on Lardo’s shoulders! Lardo’s trying to pull Rapture away from the corner but Joshua has a firm grasp on the top turnbuckle! Stewie Lamoine tries to separate the two!

BILL HEWSON: Something’s gotta give!

Rrriiiippp! The turnbuckle rips off! Stewie Lamoine gets an accidental boot from Rapture and crashes to the canvas in a heap, holding his head!

JACK JONES: Lamoine just took it in the mush!

BILL HEWSON: Oh my, and Rapture just exposed the steel joint beneath the turnbuckle padding!

Joshua smacks Lardo with the turnbuckle pad and slides off the dazed Lardo’s shoulder. Joshua gets some momentum. Cartwheels! Lardo ducks! Rapture gets a faceful of exposed turnbuckle! Lardo with a schoolboy! Lamoine is there!

One!

Two!

THREE!

JACK JONES: HOL. EE. HELL.

The crowd can’t believe it!! Stewie Lamoine can’t believe it! Lardo eyes are bugging out! Joshua is dazed and confused!

FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner… LARDO!! OH!

“OH!” is right, as Joshua Rapture blindsides the shocked, victorious Lardo. Joshua has gone FERAL, laying in everything on the fatigued winner. Boots, punches and elbows rain down, and the crowd shows their disdain for the poor loser Joshua Rapture! A dazed Lamoine tries to get between, tries to pull Rapture off —

And the former boxing sensation drops the beleaguered junior referee with a ONE-PUNCH!

BILL HEWSON: Oh that’s going to cost him there, deliberate assault of an official! Come off it, Rapture, this is completely uncalled for — wait, what the hell is he trying to do?

Rapture rips away the back of Lardo’s shirt… as he forces Laurence into position for the Martyr’s Burden.

JACK JONES: You’ve got to be kidding me.

BILL HEWSON: There’s NO way Rapture can get Lardo up for this! Somebody stop this!

Rapture heaves. Lardo’s feet dangle in the air, but end up on the ground again. Rapture clubs Lardo on the back, then pulls him in tightly. Rapture heaves AGAIN.

LARDO IS UPSIDE DOWN.

JACK JONES: Rapture can’t lift Lardo any further!!

RAPTURE PUULLLSSSSS…..

AND DROPS TO HIS KNEES.

GANZO BOMB.

BILL HEWSON: KAWADA DRIVER! OH MY GOD!! NO!!

JACK JONES: LARDO’S OWN WEIGHT… ALL OF IT… CAME CRUSHING DOWN ON HIS NECK!

BILL HEWSON: That’s almost FOUR-HUNDRED pounds of quivering human mass. Jack…are you crying?

JACK JONES: *Sniff* Rapture… He’s gone too far! I mean, I still hate Laurence Droese, but I didn’t want to see his career end!

Lardo lays unmoving in the ring, except for the quivering of his thick leg. Joshua.. stands serenely over Lardo. He bends over and… take a spike out of his boot.

BILL HEWSON: For the love of God, this is enough!

And the crowd…

ERUPTS?

JACK JONES: Anton Petrov?!

ANTON PETROV is running like a bullet train out of the curtain! Jackson Kass in hot pursuit! Joshua Rapture takes his attention off of the injured Lardo, and as Anton Petrov slides under the ropes, Rapture lunges! THESZ PRESS BY PETROV! The spike flies out of the ring! Anton Petrov and Joshua Rapture roll around exchanging punches. Rapture kicks Petrov away. SOVIET SUCKERPUNCH! Rapture is on spaghetti legs! Petrov hauls Rapture up! STEAM ROLLE-NO! Rapture rakes the eyes and slides out the ring.

JACK JONES: Kass has the spike!

JACKSON KASS WITH THE SPIKE RAISED HIGH! RAPTURE PUNCHES KASS. RAPTURE GRABS THE SPIKE BACK! Anton Petrov rolls out of the ring. Before Petrov can attack Rapture puts the spike against Kass’ throat and uses him as a buffer.

Anton Petrov is fuming mad. It’s a staredown as Joshua Rapture retreats to the barricade, slowly going over the guardrail, never taking his attention off of Anton Petrov or releasing Jackson Kass. Jake Phoenix and a cadre of security guards are there to both stop the screaming, angry fans from attacking Joshua Rapture — and to somehow keep Rapture from doing something unforgiveable to Kass.

Abruptly, Rapture shoves Kass into Petrov and quickly exits! Phoenix and his security team have their hands too full trying to prevent a near-riot to go after the maniacal Rapture!

JACK JONES: … what just happened here? Anyone?

Stewie Lamoine, shaking the cobwebs loose, rolls the semi-conscious Lardo to the ring apron. Anton Petrov and Jackson Kass stare at Lardo, the injured man holding his neck. Kass and Petrov share an uneasy look, and then, each hook an arm around the big man. Supporting Lardo, they start to make their way up the entrance way. The audience stands-up too, applauding for Laurence Droese.

The man who fought the devil… and won.


Hey Alberta! Starting this September, NAPW will be on the road! The night before our big events, we’ll be visiting select cities and towns around the province to put on a house show featuring all your favourite NAPW stars!* Be sure to keep an eye on napw-online.com to learn when we’ll be setting up a ring near you!

*Subject to availability.


Clancy King vs. Cuzin Eddie

Clancy King, flanked by the Earl of Dokken, makes his way to the ring first, looking down his nose at the peasants booing him the whole way. He makes it clear he’s about to make short work of Cuzin Eddie as the Earl opens the ropes so he can step inside. Cuzin Eddie comes out next to a huge pop, tossing one of his new t-shirts (available at napw-online.com!) into the crowd as he makes his way to the ring and climbs in. Referee Martin Chan calls for the bell, and both men lock up! Struggle for leverage goes to Eddie with the help of a headbutt, then he whips King into the ropes and levels him with a spinning mule kick! Early pin! Will King suffer only his second pinfall defeat? No, kickout at 1. King begs off into the corner, demanding time to be allowed to get back up and Eddie backs off… but only long enough to set up a big running football tackle! King collapses forward and Cuzin Eddie goes for another pin! 1! 2! And another kickout. Eddie reaches down to pull Clancy back up, but King pokes him in the eye! What a jerk! Chan doesn’t seem to have seen, but Eddie spins around in pain… Bulldog from King! And a quick pin! 1! Only one. Dokken applauds and congratulates King from ringside.

King pulls Cuzin Eddie into a sitting position and slaps on a Straightjacket Crossface. Eddie, with some support from the crowd, manages to squirm his foot to the ropes… but Dokken pulls it off! Chan sees, orders the break, and gives the Earl a stern warning – but it buys King time to use the ropes for leverage and stand on Eddie’s neck! Illegal choke! King backs off just as Chan turns back around, then picks up Eddie and drops him neck first across the top rope with a sweet tilt-a-whirl stungun! Eddie goes down and Clancy King goes for the pin! 1! 2! Kickout at two. King stomps on Eddie a few times, then pulls him up… Big Ben! Eddie thrashes, clutching at his neck, and King pins again! 1! 2! So close, but a kickout in the nick of time! King sneers and motions that it may be time for the Coronation. He reaches down… and gets a eye poke from Cuzin Eddie! Chan again missed it, and Dokken is screaming bloody murder but the fans love it! Eddie’s getting fired up as the fans go nuts! A few shots to kick, then a big elbow smash, and he drives king headfirst into the corner! He sets King up on the top rope… Timber Time? No! The Earl of Dokken grabs Eddie’s foot! King starts struggling to free himself as the Earl clings to Eddie’s leg… Chan orders the Earl to let go… but Eddie kicks him free and the momentum takes him and King off the corner… TIMMMMMBERRRRRRR! 1! 2! 3! THE CROWD GOES WILD! Clancy King is pinned in the ring for only second time and Cuzin Eddie – clutching his neck – hits the corners to celebrate! King rolls out of the ring and commiserates with the Earl of Dokken as the pair retreat up the ramp.

WINNER: Cuzin Eddie


The raucous NAPW fans are still buzzing from the action seen so far tonight. Suddenly, the buzz becomes a loud whisper when Commissioner TERRY BRANDON brushes the curtain aside and heads to the ring. The commish is wearing an unhappy expression on his face, not even trying to poker face. Brandon takes the mic…

Terry Brandon: Edmonton how are ya doing tonight, one hell of a, I say, one HELL of a show so far hasn’t it been?

Yeahhhhhh… but the fans have a bad feeling about Brandon’s unannounced presence tonight.

Terry Brandon: Now I’m looking forward to our main event just as much as each and every one of you fine faithful fans. We’re gonna see if Bruiser Breton can successfully defend his CANADIAN Heritage Championship against that Prince of a man… otter… otter-man, I believe his name is Andellion Moonwater. Whatever he is!

Yeahhhh… but.

Terry Brandon: We’ll bring you that contest in just a few minutes, but I’m not out here to ask you to buy a ticket to an event you already bought a ticket for. I can’t say I’m pleased to be out here, so let’s get down to brass tacks. It is my unpleasant duty to come out here to address the NAPW World Championship situation and our champion, Abbey Graves.

Oh. Oh…

Terry Brandon: Now you fans are all aware, last month, outside of a scheduled match, Abbey Graves was viciously, savagely attacked by Jay Deschain. That attack left her injured, by God, she went to the hospital. Now let me make it real clear right off, my first priority is the well-being and welfare of ABBEY GRAVES. Championships are important but they’re not goddamn people!

Brandon pauses, anxiously patting his thigh with free hand. He doesn’t like this spot.

Terry Brandon: Now as commissioner I have to take care of this promotion, its competitors, and do what I can to make sure wrestlers have the opportunity to compete, to ply their craft, so that people like you can be entertained and awed of their accomplishments. And you better believe that damn well means when somebody like Jay Deschain goes out of his away to intentionally injure another wrestler I’m going to take action. This is a tough sport, it’s a tough business! People get hurt, they get beat up, that’s just part of the package, but there is a world of GODDAMN DIFFERENCE between getting hurt in a sanctioned match, taking an opponent out to get a three-count… and trying to flat-out ASSAULT somebody. And that’s what Jay Deschain did, no matter how he and his so-called “legal team” want to spin it.

You want incensed, you want fired up? You’ve got Classic Terry Brandon, kids.

Terry Brandon: You know the last time I checked this was a COMBAT SPORT. Hell I used to say this is a “MAN’S SPORT” until people like Graves, Greta, and Nobody showed up and kicked everybody’s asses, so by God, I’m all for an equal-opportunity ass-kicking extravaganza! We get in the ring, you want to win, you want to win championships, you want to knock somebody’s block off and WE GIVE YOU THAT GODDAMN CHANCE, inside the squared circle, to do what you can’t do on the street and that’s FIGHT to WIN. Now I’ve taken some heat, from people I respect even, for suspending Deschain but I don’t regret that decision for a microsecond. The REALITY is that my number one concern is the safety of NAPW’s competitors and their ability to continue wrestling, earning a paycheque, earning a living doing what they goddamn love to do and that is WRESTLE!!

A small chant of “Terry, Terry” breaks out.

Terry Brandon: So let me make one thing goddamn clear, I’ll try to stay the hell out of it, I’ll let people settle their shit on their own, we had a wild freaking brawl earlier and hell YOU love it… but Jay Deschain crossed the line, and he will be suspended as LONG AS Abbey Graves cannot compete.

Terry Brandon: And if, IF, the worst rumours are true, if the worst happens and Abbey Graves can’t even continue in this great sport, then Jay Deschain, I make you a solemn goddamn vow that you will NEVER work on this continent AGAIN.

BILL HEWSON: I haven’t seen Terry Brandon this angry in a long, long time, Jack Attack.

JACK JONES: I’m just glad he was usually mad at my opponents, and not me…

The fans are loving that, but unfortunately, Brandon has more.

Terry Brandon: But… I’ve been trying to find every which way around it and I’m out of options. Abbey Graves has been seeing her doctor, they’ve been working on recovery, and she remains NAPW World Champion. I want to give Abbey Graves as much time as she needs, but… we need a champion.

Terry Brandon: Now if Abbey Graves could tell me she’d be back next month, I’d have no problem with that. Hell, if she said she could defend, if her doctor said she should be cleared by OCTOBER with our annual Hallowe’en spectacular, I would have NO PROBLEM allowing the championship to go undefended until then. Unfortunately… unfortunately, the best possible prognosis for Abbey Graves is six months. And that’s the best, and we’re hearing that it could be nine months, it could be a year, it could be… never.

The fans are mad about that, and concerned.

Terry Brandon: It is with the absolute deepest regret, strongest reluctance, I say, I don’t want to damn well do this… but I must now ask Abbey Graves to surrender the World Championship, rendering it vacant.

Terry Brandon: I know, I know. At this time I would like to welcome out… ABBEY. “GODDAMN.” GRAVES.

Brandon and the fans look to the curtain…

“IIIIIINNNN WAAAAAAAVEEES!”

The boos come cascading down, and the Commissioner throws his hands up in disgust. While those in attendance were excited to see their champion, they are NOT happy to see the man who put her in the hospital step through the curtain, dressed in his nice jeans and blue-and-white plaid shirt. Hanging from his right hand is the Canada Cup, which he brings up to his shoulder as he surveys the reaction. Jay Deschain slowly strolls down to ringside, seemingly at a rate to further incense the fans. As he steps onto the apron, Jay pauses and smirks at Terry Brandon. Their eyes lock, and for a few tense seconds, no one moves.

Finally, Deschain steps back and gestures to Terry, asking for the ropes to be held open for him. Brandon’s face turns red, and he silently responds by backing into the opposite corner. Jay shrugs and steps through. With Trivium blaring, Deschain steps to the middle of the mat and holds the Cup high above his head, the hatred raining down on him fueling his amusement. Jay drops the Canada Cup in a neutral corner and asks for a microphone. Terry Brandon makes his way to the middle of the ring, but Deschain holds his hand, palm out, to stop him as the music fades.

Jay Deschain: Hold on, hold on, Terry. You know that I have EVERY LEGAL RIGHT to be here. I may be suspended, but I can still be on the premises. I’m not here to fight.

A furious Terry fumes, then brings the mic up.

Terry Brandon: Then why in the SAM HELL are you here, then?

Jay Deschain: C’mon, Ter-Bear, don’t play dumb hillbilly with me. I made my demands perfectly clear, and I gave you a deadline: give me the NAPW World Championship by tonight, or face legal repercussions. My attorney-

Terry Brandon: I’ll wipe my ass with ANYTHING your lawyer sends me before I’ll give it ANY serious consideration. You know, I know, and these fans know you don’t have a legal leg to stand on. IN MY RING, if you want something done, you step through those ropes, and you handle your business LIKE A MAN!

The fans EXPLODE in response, which doesn’t seem to affect Deschain.

Jay Deschain: Seriously? You trumpet gender equality, then turn around and say something like that? Doesn’t matter. You know what does? The fact that this company is going to pay, one way or another, for slighting me. When I won the Canada Cup, I had this feeling that the ten grand you paid me was going to come in very handy. How fitting that I turn around and use it to fight for what’s rightfully mine? Ten thousand may not be enough to drag this out forever, but I don’t need forever. You’ve seen firsthand that I’m very good at raising a lot of hell in a short amount of time. I will be the headache that only gets worse from here if you don’t give me that title. Answer me this, big man…

Jay turns away from Terry and chooses to address all of those in attendance, pacing around slowly and talking over the ropes and into the stands.

Jay Deschain: Who else has beaten Abbey Graves? How is irrelevant. The truth is I am the lone blemish in her title reign. I am the one question mark that exists in her rise to the top here. I might not have taken the title from her, but she did not beat me. Most of the others who get brought up when potential contenders get tossed around have fallen to me. Kris Jacobson? Bludgeoned like a baby seal. Sammy Devine? Embarrassed not once, but twice, simultaneously shafting his new Soviet pen pal and former Champ himself Anton Petrov. Even Joshua Rapture’s poor brain broke just standing in my corner. Hell, give me a few minutes within Declan Black, and I’m sure the song would remain the same. Point is this: there’s no one left, Terry. I’m all you have left, in terms of serious competition. No one can stop me. Not you, not Abbey Graves, not anyone in the locker room, not any official or suit in the back, and certainly not any of these fans. Just give me the goddamned title, and let me rule this company, just like I swore to all of you that I would. And if you don’t, things just might become…

Deschain abruptly returns to the center of the ring and gets nose-to-nose with Terry Brandon.

Jay Deschain: Messy.

“SET THE STAGE! THE AMBUSH BEGINS!”

The fans go ABSOFUCKIN’LUTELY INSANE as “Set The Stage” by The Warriors plays over the P.A. Jay Deschain visibly sighs, silently seething. Terry Brandon looks to the curtain with a look of worry on his face as…

Nothing happens.

The song continues into the next verse.

JACK JONES: The champion’s music, but no champion.

BILL HEWSON: That’s right, Jack, but these fans are still loud as ever.

The fans haven’t stopped cheering as loud as possible. That is, until Abbey makes her appearance. Then, the crowd drops almost completely silent…

Wearing a green “DEVINE ARMY” hoodie, jeans, and a neck brace, Abbey gingerly makes her way past the curtain with the help of some of the fine medical staff on the scene. Both of her eyes are blackened. She is shuffling more than she is walking, and an occasional grimace of pain crosses her face.

BILL HEWSON: Oh my God.

JACK JONES: She… she looks pretty beat up, Hewson.

Another medical professional comes from behind the curtain carrying the NAPW Championship. Graves is so weak she can’t even carry her own belt.

And Jay Deschain? He’s applauding, with a huge smile on his face. As Abbey has finally made her way to the ringside area, Jay sits on the middle rope and hold the top rope open for her, gesturing for her to come in the ring with a smile on his face.

JACK JONES: You can’t say that isn’t a nice gesture, Hewson. You can tell he really wants to help Abbey Graves!

BILL HEWSON: You have got to be kidding me. That man possibly ended her career!

Abbey gives Deschain a look of intense disgust before walking to the steps. When she gets to the apron, she stares Deschain down until Terry Brandon yells to Jay to move away from the ropes. With a smile and a nod, Jay obliges.

Abbey tries to go between the ropes, but she can’t. She yelps in pain and grabs for her back, then her neck. Jay puts his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his smile, perhaps, as Graves waves Terry Brandon away from the ropes. Her theme music has looped back to the beginning as she finally gets in the ring. She leans against the turnbuckles, winded and hurt, as one of the medical professionals hands her the championship. She turns her body to look left and right. Not her head. Her whole body. She signals for a mic, and Terry Brandon gives her one. She speaks in hushed, pained tones.

ABBEY GRAVES: It’s good to be back in Edmonton, that’s for goddamned sure.

A small pop, but the crowd is still in awe.

ABBEY GRAVES: As you may have heard, I’m not cleared to compete. I won’t be cleared for a while. And, if things keep going the way they are, I’ll never be cleared to compete.

Dead. Quiet. Terry Brandon lowers and shakes his head. To his credit, Jay Deschain has not said a word. His face is nondescript as Abbey Graves talks.

ABBEY GRAVES: As such, the contract I signed once I became champion notes that I have to defend it within a set amount of time, or lose it. And since I haven’t been cleared to defend it–

JAY DESCHAIN: You’ve been a good little kitten and brought it down so you can officially hand the title over to me! Aww, Abbs, you shouldn’t have!

Jay Deschain’s overly cheery outburst is followed by some of the loudest booing to ever be heard in all of Edmonton. Jay scoffs and addresses the fans.

JAY DESCHAIN: Hey, hey, HEY! I’m the clear number one contender! I beat Graves, in this ring, in front of you ingrates! Rapture went for a long swim, while every other idiot in the back is too incompetent to wash their hands after they piss, let alone be the face of this company.

TERRY BRANDON: No, I say, no! You are suspended, Jay Deschain–

Terry Brandon stops as he looks up the ramp to see head referee Morgan Smythe and head of security Jake Phoenix come to the ring. Abbey Graves holds her hand up.

ABBEY GRAVES: Commish, if I may. Jay, you are a straight up asshole.

The crowd roars in agreement as an ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! chant starts up. Jay shrugs incredulously. She talks louder, but is still in pain, as the whisper in her words prove.

ABBEY GRAVES:Since your little cowardly attack, I’ve been unable to train. I lost my job because I’ve been unable to go to work. I spent hours a day probed by doctors, and that was AFTER I spent the better part of a week in the University of Alberta hospital. I had spinal taps. I’m wrapped up like a mummy. My neck doesn’t move in ways it’s supposed to, and sleep? Yeah, fucking nope. No sleep without pain. And on top of that…

Abbey stops to breathe. She wraps her arms around her chest for a second, before looking up at Jay Deschain.

JAY DESCHAIN: What’s wrong there, champ? Forget your inhaler? In a little bit of pain? How does it feel, being the “fighting champion” that can’t defend her belt? All of her precious fans, disappointed.

ABBEY GRAVES: Can it, cockbag! You want this championship? You want to be champion? Well, tough guy, see if you can take it from a crippled, bruised and beaten woman who is much smaller than you.

There’s a concerned, confused outburst from the crowd.

JACK JONES: You gotta be kidding me!

BILL HEWSON: This is a bad idea. That capital-A Asshole, Jay Deschain, just goaded Abbey Graves into defending her championship, even though she is so hurt she can barely move!

JACK JONES: Terry Brandon won’t let it go down that way, Bill. NAPW doctors haven’t cleared her to wrestle. There’s no way.

Which is exactly what Terry Brandon is telling Abbey now. “You aren’t, I say, you aren’t cleared to compete! I won’t allow it!”

ABBEY GRAVES: Look, if Jay wants to talk big to an injured woman, then let him. Hell, he’s supposedly all for gender equality, why not equal opportunity for those who are not as able-bodied? He wants to be champ so badly, he can beat me for it. Besides, Morgan has the paperwork I signed in the back that takes all liability off you and puts it squarely on me.

Terry Brandon looks over to Morgan Smythe, who nods solemnly and hands an envelope to Terry Brandon. He opens it and reads the contents, before sighing and shaking his head.

The crowd reaction is mixed. Many audience members beg with Abbey not to compete. A young girl, sitting with her father, gets up from the third row and runs to the guard rail. She is wearing a Devine Army hoodie, as well, signed and unzipped to show an Abbey Graves t-shirt. Abbey backs into the corner and unzips her hoodie as the young girl yells to her, “ABBEY, DON’T DO IT!”

Abbey looks over to the girl and replies in the loudest voice she can, “I have to, Maddi. I’ll be OK.”

And Jay Deschain laughs.

JAY DESCHAIN: There, see? See, Terry, she wants to fight! Does that make you feel better? Now, you don’t have to hand the title over to me; I can just take it myself! Man, I am SO glad I wore my good jeans today…

Jay continues laughing as Abbey slowly and painstakingly takes off her hoodie. The crowd gasps. She is wearing a blank black tank top that shows her left shoulder heavily taped. Her midsection is heavily padded, showing her ribs are taped, as well.

JAY DESCHAIN: Whoa, woah, slow down there, champ! Need help getting that off? You look like you’re having a little bit of trouble there.

Abbey flips Jay off as Terry Brandon and Frank Warburton talk. Brandon signals for Jake Phoenix to join him on the other side of the ring. “Go ahead, I say, go ahead, Frank. Introduce them.”

Jay smiles and taunts Terry Brandon as Frank solemnly does his introductions.

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen…

He looks at Brandon again, who nods at him.

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen the following match is scheduled for ONE FALL… and it is for the NAPW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!

Jay is grinning ear-to-ear, looking eager like a child on Christmas, bouncing from foot to foot. He leans into a deep lunge, Kawada style, left leg, then right. Graves’ face is grim, her jaw is set.

FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED and FORTY ONE pounds. From Black Diamond, Washington. He is the PERFECT STORM! JAY! DESCHAIN!

Boo! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent. Weighing in at ONE-HUNDRED and THIRTY pounds. From Coram, New York! She is the NAPW WORLD CHAMPION! ABBEY! GODDAMN! GRAVES!

The cheer from the crowd is subdued. If this is what she wants, they’ll support her… but they clearly aren’t happy about this. Morgan Smythe calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

This match is under way! Jay walks to the middle of the ring as Abbey shuffles there, breathing heavily and holding her left shoulder. Jay cracks a smirk, and shoves Abbey hard to the mat. She twists on the mat in pain, clutching her neck and chest.

BILL HEWSON: Oh come on!

JACK JONES: This.. this is too much. Even for me, Bill.

The crowd boos as Jay turns and walks to his corner, making eye contact with Terry Brandon and talking trash. “Look at the face of the company, your bread and butter! She’s done. Finished. And then your new champion will be right here.” He makes the belt motion, then shadow boxes and shuffles his feet like a boxer.

Morgan Smythe is checking on Graves when the champ suddenly kips up!

JACK JONES: I…wha?

Jay smugly turns around and ABBEY GRAVES TAKES HIS FACE OFF WITH A YAKUZA KICK! Deschain slumps against the turnbuckle as Abbey grabs his head and rolls him up in a nice small package! Smythe is in position!

1!

2!

3!

DING! DING! DING!

AND THE CROWD IS NUCLEAR! Graves slides out of the ring near Maddi, rips the neck brace off and rubs some of the black make-up off her face.

Jay sits up, eyes bugged out, mouth agape. He quickly turns his attention to Abbey, then Morgan Smythe, then Terry Brandon, then the hard camera, then all over again. Deschain is AGOG.

JACK JONES: She was playing possum! She’s not injured at all!

BILL HEWSON: Jack, she wasn’t cleared to compete, so she is hurt… but she just pulled one over on Jay Deschain, that’s for sure!

Terry Brandon brings Abbey her championship belt as Abbey walks up the ramp backwards, holding it in the air. Deschain gets his hands on the nearest microphone.

JAY DESCHAIN: You! You… you… lying… no-good… double-crossing… foul-mouthed… I WASN’T READY! THE HOUSE LIGHTS WERE UP! SMYTHE’S BABY BUMP DISTRACTED ME! THE SHINE FROM TERRY’S DOME…

ABBEY GRAVES: Holy Mother of Fuck, Jay. You complain more than a woman giving birth. Not only did I pin you, just now, I did it in a championship match. There it is, Jay. You lost.

JAY DESCHAIN: YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYER! THIS WAS NOT PART OF MY DEMANDS! THIS VIOLATES AT LEAST SEVEN BY-LAWS OF-

ABBEY GRAVES: Oh, this legal shit again. You know something, winning against you was nice, but it just didn’t seem like enough. I kept you down for three whole seconds and you still think you’re a victim somehow. You want another shot at this title? FINE! At Sole Survivor, it’ll be Deschain vee Graves eye, eye, eye, but only if you drop this ridiculous lawsuit and other such legal shit against the NAPW, Terry Brandon and myself.

Deschain starts to retort, but pauses. He slowly pans his gaze over the crowd, slowing his heavy breathing down. After a few seconds, Jay brings up a finger.

JAY DESCHAIN: If I drop the lawsuit, you’ll give me a proper title shot?

ABBEY GRAVES: Did I stutter, asshole? Yeah, I’ll give you a shot!

An uneasy smile creeps across The Perfect Storm’s face, and he nods.

JAY DESCHAIN: Alright, Abbey, you’re on!

ABBEY GRAVES: Now, hold your horses for one more Goddamn second. To squash this stupid bullshit once and for all, neither of us can win by pinfall, submission, stoppage, the usual. You want to fight big, “kitten,” well, we’re gonna fight the biggest. I’ve already put you down for three seconds, and now I’m gonna put you down for a ten count! At Sole Survivor, it’ll be you and me… in a Last Person Standing match!

Jay might still be smiling, but it barely conceals a wince at the revealing of the stipulation. He stands up and leans over the top rope at the Champ, yelling obscenities at her and telling her, off-mic, that he’s ready to settle this once and for all. Deschain keeps making the title motion with his hands around his waist as Abbey, title still over her head, backs away, keeping a wary eye on Jay.

BILL HEWSON: Abbey Graves — STILL the NAPW World Champion! Next month — Sole Survivor — LAST PERSON STANDING! Graves vs Deschain, these two are going to FINISH IT!!


This month, NAPW presents the best of SOLE SURVIVOR! All five Sole Survivor matches will be added to the NAPW YouTube channel in their entirety! It’s all leading up to the biggest event of the year!


JACK JONES: So I said to my boss, “You can’t fire me, I quit!”

BILL HEWSON: I honestly see where he was coming from. Those cupcakes were very inappropriate.

JACK JONES: Not you, too. I’m telling you Hewson, they were lips! It was Valentine’s Day!

BILL HEWSON: Welcome back, NAPW fans, if you’re just joining us here on NAPW-online.com iPPV, you’re watching Heritage Havoc! Tonight we’ve had an incredible show featuring Declan Black scoring a close victory over the Crimson Mask, a hell of a match between Anton Petrov and Kris Jacobson… and an HONEST TO GOD title defence from our injured NAPW World Champion, Abbey Graves! But now it’s time for the main event! Andellion Moonwater will challenge Bruiser Breton for the Canadian Heritage Championship!

JACK JONES: Moonwater doesn’t stand a chance, Hewson! Breton has already proven how dominant a competitor he is!

The Animals hit the PA system with “Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood” and the fans instantly come unglued! Andellion Moonwater, the Prince of Crystalwood himself, hits the aisle to greet the fans with both fists high in the air! Frank Warburton is in the ring, microphone in hand, ready to introduce the challenger.

FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and is for the NAPW Canadian Heritage Championship! Introducing first, the challenger! Making his way to the ring, from Crystalwood City, weighing in at ONE hundred EIGHTY EIGHT POUNDS! The Prince of Crystalwood! ANDELLION! MOONWATER!

BILL HEWSON: Here comes the challenger! Moonwater earned his chance at the Heritage title last month in a FATAL FOUR WAY MATCH that included Blake Taylor, Felicity Banks and the former World Champion Clancy King, and you can bet he’ll be looking to pick up a W, and his first taste of championship gold, tonight!

JACK JONES: Otterboy doesn’t stand a chance, Hewson! Breton’s holding on to gold!

Moonwater hits the ring and then the turnbuckle to show the fans his appreciation! Moonwater tests the ropes as his music dies. “Born on the Bayou” by Creedence Clearwater Revival takes over the PA and the fans do a full one-eighty into boos! Bruiser Breton hits the aisle, donning his Canadian Heritage Championship, altered to be the Acadian Heritage Title, around his waist. He looks out at the sea of boos in front of him with an arrogant smirk that makes the fans just hate him more.

FRANK WARBURTON: And introducing his opponent! From Crowley, Louisiana, weighing in at TWO hundred SEVENTY SEVEN POUNDS! The NAPW CANADIAN HERITAGE CHAMPION! “BRUISER!” BRETON!

BILL HEWSON: And here comes the champion! Moonwater has an incredibly uphill battle ahead of him tonight! In Breton’s last title defense, he defeated the Crimson Mask after an intensely fought battle by using the same length of steel chain he used to defeat Sammy Devine in the match that made Breton the champion!

JACK JONES: How dare you imply that a competitor of Breton’s caliber would dare cheat to win! He won by the seat of his own pants!

BILL HEWSON: Say what you will, Jack Attack, either way, this should prove to be an incredible– whoa, hang on!

Breton is in the ring, and he’s taken the microphone from Frank!

BRUISER BRETON: Dis bein’ de ACADIAN Her’tage Champion-ship–gots dat, Franky Burton! Y’all better takin’ de elbows outta yo ears, n’yah!

Breton tosses the microphone out of the ring to resounding boos from the audience as Warburton exits the ring. Breton hands referee Martin Chan the belt, not before he shows it off to Moonwater, of course, beaking him off for good measure, while Moonwater bounces on the balls of his feet to stay loose.

BILL HEWSON: Breton showing some preliminary disrespect to the challenger here.

JACK JONES: Rightfully so! You don’t actually think Moonwater has a chance, do you Hewson?

Martin Chan holds up the belt for each competitor to see, then up to the crowd as an “AN-DEL-LI-ON!” chants start echoing through the arena! Martin Chan calls for the bell, and we are underway! Moonwater, staying light on his feet, hops around Breton while they square up, each looking for an opportunity to make the first move. Breton quickly becomes tired of waiting and calls him out for a lock up! Breton advances, trying to back Moonwater into the corner, but Moonwater sidesteps, getting the ring behind him. Breton laughs it off and resumes the pursuit as Moonwater continues to keep his distance.

BILL HEWSON: Moonwater playing it exceptionally safe to start this match off, let’s not forget the near one hundred pound weight advantage Breton has on Moonwater.

JACK JONES: Playing chicken you mean. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance, he’s just stalling! Delaying the inevitable.

Breton gets impatient and tries to catch Moonwater as he escapes a corner, but Moonwater was prepared and slips behind him into a hammerlock! Breton growls in frustration and powers out, trying to force Moonwater into a submission move of his own, but Moonwater, showing incredible agility and acrobatics, cartwheels out of Breton’s leverage and into a side headlock! Breton SHOVES Moonwater off of him into the ropes, looking for a back body drop on the rebound but Moonwater leaps and puts Breton down with a ROCKER DROPPER! Breton’s face bounces off the canvas but he’s more angry than anything! He gets to his knees with an angry snarl, but Moonwater off the ropes with a DROP KICK TO THE MUSH!

BILL HEWSON: What a kick! Breton didn’t see it coming! On his back, Moonwater with the cover attempt – and a kick out at one and a half by the champion!

JACK JONES: Breton’s just playing him, Hewson. Making him think he’s got a chance!

Moonwater is back to his feet as Breton is trying to get up. Moonwater off the ropes, Breton looking to change the tide with a clothesline, Moonwater ducks it! Another rebound, Breton lowers his base to be ready for any of Moonwater’s tricks, but Moonwater with a baseball slide between Breton’s legs and out of Breton’s grasp. Moonwater up behind Breton and a drop kick to the backside sends Breton sliding under the bottom rope! The fans are bananas!

BILL HEWSON: What amazing play by Andellion Moonwater, sending Breton out onto – LOOK OUT!

SOMERSAULT PLANCHAAAA! Moonwater with a gutsy dive, and both competitors spill out onto the floor!

BILL HEWSON: What a dive by Moonwater! Incredibly high risk, but showing that he deserves to be here, if nothing else!

JACK JONES: Both men are feeling it after that impact, Hewson!

Moonwater is favoring his shoulder after that move, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. He’s up, and hooks Breton up and with an IRISH WHIP sends him into the apron – BRETON WITH THE REVERSAL! Moonwater crashes into the steel steps! Right on the shoulder! Breton shakes the cobwebs as he looks to turn the match around! Breton yells insults at Moonwater as he grabs Moonwater’s head and slams it into the apron! Moonwater bounces out onto the floor as Breton climbs into the ring to stop Martin Chan’s count at SEVEN! and then climbs back out to keep up the punishment. Breton hooks up Moonwater and staggers him with a couple of stiff elbows long enough to nail the Anderson Spinebuster on the floor! Moonwater arches his back in pain!

BILL HEWSON: Bruiser Breton looking to turn this match around, has gotten some impressive offense so far!

JACK JONES: Did you see the way Breton angled that spinebuster so that most of the impact went into Moonwater’s damaged shoulder? That’s the work of a real strategist right there!

Indeed, Moonwater is favoring his shoulder after that impact! Breton hooks up Moonwater and rolls him back into the ring, following close behind just as the referee’s count reaches EIGHT! Breton with the cover, Chan with the count, but Moonwater with the kick out at two! Breton is frustrated, but he keeps his calm as he hooks Moonwater back to his feet. Irish whip into the corner by Breton, following up with a SPLASH in the corner! Moonwater steps out into Breton’s grasp for a RUNNING POWERSLAM! Moonwater is planted! Breton with another cover!

ONE!

TWO!

MOONWATER KICKS OUT!

BILL HEWSON: That was a close one! If Moonwater isn’t careful, Breton will take this one!

Breton pounds the mat in frustration! He yells at the referee that it was a three count but Chan is adamant, as any good referee would be, that it was a two count. Breton finally relents and turns to pick up where he left off – MOONWATER COUNTERS WITH A EUROPEAN UPPERCUT! Back hand chop by Moonwater! Another chop! Another! More chops! MOAR CHOPS! MOO– ahem, sorry. Moonwater has Breton backed into the corner, Irish whip by Moonwater, reversed by Breton! Moonwater into the ropes, SPRINGBOARD DROP KICK counter by Moonwater! Breton hits the mat, a beat goes by. Breton pops up, Moonwater to the ropes! Breton goes for the HANSEN LARIAT, Moonwater ducks under it to the other ropes! SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY – CAUGHT BY BRETON! HOISTS HIM FOR THE OVERHEAD PRESS SLAM – MOONWATER WRIGGLES FREE! Moonwater kicks the back of Breton’s knees and Breton goes down! Moonwater to the ropes, WHEELBARROW BULLDOG! Breton is prone! Moonwater looks out to the fans as they cheer him on!

JACK JONES: What’s he doing?

BILL HEWSON: He’s going high risk! This could be over right here!

Moonwater is up to the top rope! Breton is on his feet an gives chase! Breton up top with fists, Moonwater is trying to defend! Both men looking for leverage on the top rope, Moonwater blocks a right from Breton and gives him one of his own in return! Breton falls down to the mat! MOONWATER FLIES!

LUTRASAAAAUUULT!

BRETON GETS THE KNEES UP!

BILL HEWSON: What presence of mind by Breton to get those knees up! Moonwater took the full force of that impact!

JACK JONES: It’s over, Hewson! All Breton needed was an opening, and now he’s got one!

Moonwater is on the canvas, holding his aching abdomen as Breton smirks, tapping his head. He hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THR– KICKOUT by Moonwater just in the nick of time!

Breton on the offensive, hooks Moonwater and launches him into the ropes! Breton catches him with a SICK scoop slam and Moonwater is down again! Breton off the ropes, JUMPING KNEE DROP to Moonwater’s abdomen! Breton spits as he picks Moonwater back up and locks on a BEARHUG!

BILL HEWSON: It looks like Breton is putting the squeeze on Moonwater’s injured stomach!

JACK JONES: Still think Moonwater has a chance, Hewson?

BILL HEWSON: I would never count him out, Jack Attack, but it sure looks grim for Moonwater right now.

Moonwater cries out in pain as Breton literally squeezes the life out of him! Martin Chan asks if he wants to submit but Moonwater screams NO. The crowd is behind Moonwater, rallying him to fight back! Moonwater struggles, and starts throwing elbows! One! Two! Three elbows to Breton’s head, trying to reduce the pressure on his body! The crowd is getting louder as Moonwater throws two more elbows! BRETON shuts down Moonwater’s struggle with a SLAM into the canvas! Breton with a few boots to Moonwater’s midsection and then he flips off the crowd!

BOOO!

BILL HEWSON: Breton showing the crowd exactly what he thinks of them and the fans responding in kind!

JACK JONES: These mouth breathers don’t even know what they’re talking about, Hewson.

Breton hauls Moonwater to his feet and hits the RUDE NECKBREAKER! Breton with a cover, only gets a two count! Breton picks up Moonwater – MOONWATER FIGHTS! Moonwater with a flurry of kicks backing Breton into the ropes! Irish whip, Breton with the reversal OOOOOOH! Breton with the Hansen LARIAT puts Moonwater’s comeback on ice! Breton scoffs at Moonwater. “Ya wanna fly, otterboy? I’ll show ya how it’s done!”

BILL HEWSON: What’s he doing?

JACK JONES: He’s finishing this, Hewson!

Breton is heading to the top! Moonwater is still down! Breton on the top rope now, the fans are BOOOOING for all they’re worth, but Breton flips them off! Breton leaps!

FLYING HEADBUTT…

AONYX KIIIIIIICK!

JACK JONES: HOLY HELL!

BILL HEWSON: Moonwater with a clutch Liu Kang Kick, catches Breton out of the air! Moonwater needs to capitalize now, and we could have a new champion!

Both men are down! Moonwater still feeling the effects of Breton’s punishment earlier, is too fatigued to capitalize! Referee Martin Chan begins his count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

Moonwater is up to his elbows! Breton is just starting to stir! The fans are chanting for Moonwater!

SIX!

SEVEN!

Breton is using the ropes to get to his feet! Moonwater is up to one knee! THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET!

EIGHT!

NINE!

Both men find their feet with only a second to spare! Moonwater charges Breton and peppers him with kicks! Moonwater with the Irish whip to the corner! DOUBLE KNEE LIFT and Breton slumps into the corner, snapmare by Moonwater, hits the ropes DROP KICK TO THE FACE! Moonwater with the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR–

KICKOUT BY BRETON!

Moonwater picks up Breton and backs him into the ropes with chops and kicks, following up with the Irish whip into the ropes, Breton with the reversal, Moonwater springboards – HURRICANRANA! Breton goes down! The cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE—

NO!!! Breton with the last millisecond kick out! The fans breathe a collective sigh of disappointment.

BILL HEWSON: I thought it was over, there, Jack Attack.

JACK JONES: I’m with you, Hewson, that was too close for comfort!

Moonwater approaches Breton, now on his stomach after the kick out, and locks in the Aonyxlock! Breton struggles to break the rear naked choke hold but Moonwater gets the body scissors on, rolling onto his back!

JACK JONES: Don’t tap, champ!

BILL HEWSON: He’s in a bad place, Jack Attack! It could be over!

Nowhere near the ropes, Breton is fighting for his life! Breton musters his strength, rolls onto his stomach and forces himself to his feet, Moonwater still on his back! Breton gets a head full of steam, RAMS Moonwater into the turnbuckle! Moonwater holds on! Breton again, RAMS Moonwater into the corner, but this time Moonwater releases the hold. Breton grasps at his throat, gasping for air before throwing a few solid elbows into Moonwater’s face. Breton with the Irish whip to the corner, Moonwater reverses! Breton hits the corner, Moonwater charges – Breton pulls the referee into the line of fire! Chan braces for impact, but Moonwater catches himself before he does Chan any harm –

BRETON WITH THE HOODOO CHAIN! PUNCHES MOONWATER IN THE HEAD OVER CHAN!

BILL HEWSON: What an underhanded move by Breton! The referee didn’t see a thing! Where did that chain even come from?

JACK JONES: What was there to see, Hewson? I saw a clean strike!

Moonwater falls to the canvas, clutching at his head as Breton ditches the chain outside the ring before Chan looks at Breton, who shrugs, feigning ignorance. Breton stalks Moonwater, shoves his head between his legs!

BAYOU BOMB COMING UP!

UP! AND DOWN!

MOONWATER IS PLANTED!

BILL HEWSON: NO! Not like this!

JACK JONES: Do it, champ!

Breton makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and STILL NAPW CANADIAN HERITAGE CHAMPION! BRUISER! BRETON!

The fans boo as Breton rises to his feet, grinning and snatching his title belt from Martin Chan. He raises it high over his head and shouts “ACADIAN HER’TAGE, SON!” to further boos. Andellion Moonwater slowly begins rising.

BILL HEWSON: Someone, please, get that title belt out of Bruiser Breton’s hands.

JACK JONES: No one can, Hewson! Not Andellion Moonwater, not a loser like Sammy Devine, NO ONE! He’s going to be the Acadian Heritage Champion for all time!

BILL HEWSON: No… I mean SOMEONE GET THE TITLE BELT OUT OF HIS HANDS!

Because Breton is teeing off on Moonwater with its shiny faceplate. The Crown Prince of Crystalwood is levelled as Frank Warburton beats a retreat and Martin Chan angrily shouts at Breton to stand down. The bell rings again – perhaps as a way to remind Bruiser that the match is over, but he just laughs and holds the belt in Moonwater’s face. “Dis ‘ere is mah belt!”

JACK JONES: What can I say, Hewson. Bruiser Breton is sending a message. Not just to Andellion Moonwater, but to the entire locker-room.

Breton throws the belt over his shoulder, then reaches down and grabs Moonwater, pulling him up and shoving him into the corner where he sags, dazed. Breton then reaches into his overalls… and pulls out the Hoodoo Chain, wrapping it around his fist!

BILL HEWSON: No! Security!

He laughs, rears back…

And the crowd goes WILD!

BILL HEWSON: SAMMY DEVINE!

Breton’s eyes go wide as the former Heritage Champion slides into the ring and just LAYS INTO HIM, fists a flying! Bruiser tries to beg off shouting at Martin Chan to do something, but Chan is forced to duck aside…

JACK JONES: SQUIRRELLY NUTTZ!?

… bloodied but unbowed, Nuttz hits the ring along with PRINCE WADHOTEP and DECLAN BLACK, each from different side! The trio jump Devine, giving Breton a chance to stagger back in relief as they lay boots to him to boos from the crowd…

BILL HEWSON: INCOMING!

And now CRIMSON MASK and CUZIN’ EDDIE are storming the ring, Mask flying into Black while Eddie starts trading shots with Prince Wadhotep! Nuttz tries to continue his assault on Devine… but suddenly Andellion Moonwater is on his back! The crowd cheers as Devine retakes his feet, levels his eyes on Breton… and CHARGES!

JACK JONES: What’s happening! WHERE ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE COMING FROM!?

Now its LEGION storming the ring, apparently summoned by the carnage! Then the KENTUCKY HELLBILLIES are in the frey! ANTON PETROV, GRILLO JR, CLANCY KING, THOSE THAT WOULD INFLICT ILL! FUTURE SHOCK! BLAKE TAYLOR and KRIS JACOBSON! The ring is FULL and the crowd is going WILD!

BILL HEWSON: This is pandemonium! Everyone is fighting… EVERYONE!

Suddenly, Prince Wadhotep goes tumbling over the top rope, and is quickly followed by Matanza! Bryan Marshall is ejected along with Andellion Moonwater! Bruiser Breton is sent over the top by a flying Sammy Devine, sending them both crashing to the ringside! Cuzin Eddie is out! John Mitchell is out! Grillo Jr! Lambert Haniel! Kris Jacobson! Blake Taylor! Squirrelly Nuttz! Nobody sends both members of Future Shock to the apron, but they land on their feet, grab her by the head and SUPLEX her onto the crowd that’s been gathering at ringside! Everyone is down!

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

In the ring, Declan Black clears Crimson Mask over the top! Masakre tosses Clancy King! Then Masakre turns and gets clotheslined over the top by Anton Petrov! Petrov doesn’t have time to celebrate, though – because the Black Dragon catches his legs and sends him up and over, too! The crowd is going insane…

But Declan Black is the last man in the ring.

BILL HEWSON: Just as he did in his first NAPW match, Declan Black has cleared the ring and is the last man standing!

JACK JONES: I’m calling it right now, Hewson! This is the preview for Sole Survivor! DECLAN BLACK is going to be the last man in the ring next month!

Black smiles and laughs as the fans boo him. From ringside, dozens of eyes are glaring at him… he’s put a target on his back, but his expression says it all.

“Bring it on.”

BILL HEWSON: For Jack “Attack Jones and Frank Warburton, this is Bill Hewson… we’ll see you all at SOLE SURVIVOR!

Lights down.

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