THE PHENOMENAL COMEBACK: PART 1

The Arena of Champions was packed with thousands of screaming fans. Each and every one of them were excited to have a ticket for the hottest show in Orlando, LoC. The bright arena suddenly turned dark when the house lights were cut off. People screamed and whistled. When everyone settled down, the LegacyTron displayed a message that would ultimately send the crowd into a frenzy.

In four weeks...

...

HART RETURNS!

"What the... is that... is that the PHENOM?" Tony Stone was in shock.

Keith Kane nearly creamed himself. "It looks like it! Now THAT's a comeback I'd like to see! The Muff Daddy returning? OH YEAH!"

"You know," Stone theorized, "It was two weeks ago that the Sixth Man started his attacks here in LoC. Do you think Shawn Hart could be the Sixth Man?"

"Violence!"
Click 'Play' below to listen to "Violence" by Primer 55.

I've got the mood set, half past midnight
Me and my soldiers are dancin' in the street lights
Set 'em up, set 'em up, buck, I watch 'em fall quick
Sound the alarms, I'm dropping bombs, with this dope shit
What goes around come around, that's what they all say
No time to blink, no time to think, no time to hesitate
You got no gun, it's best you run, unless you got one
They bring pain like rain with a shotgun!

Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit!

Like a snake, I'm the most wanted viper
Busting on punks , like the neighborhood sniper
Right from wrong, I just can't decipher
Strapped with a mack and an automatic rifle
The ten most wanted, I'm on top of the pile
Rainin' down on punks penitentiary style
No respect for life, no respect for the outcome
If ya want some, bitch, come get some!

Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit to me!
Don't bring that shit!

What's goin' on here, don't bring that shit to me!

VIOLENCE!

Bring it to me covered in RAGE!

THE COOKIES ARE A'CRUMBLIN'

�Circles� by Incubus

The fans were immediately standing tall and abusing their lungs by offering up an amount of cheers that only the legendary Scott Riktor could squeeze out of them. They loved this man for all the things he�d ever done in the ring, and they loved him for the things he�d made happen in the ring via his position as LoC�s commish.

The Man Known as Rage stepped out from the back with an appreciative smirk. It didn�t matter how many times you stepped through that curtain, hearing a crowd howling with glee simply because you were gracing them with your presence�that�s some powerful shit right there. It was a high unlike any other. Hell, it was a high that outdid the high you�d get after spending an evening with BT, Laz, and some of that Orange Crush. Riktor would never learn how to keep from breaking into gooseflesh upon receiving that high.

He walked to the ring with a purpose. The LoC-embossed microphone in his hand made it evident that he�d share his purpose sooner rather than later, and as he slid into the ring, the fans were already respectively quieting down. Like always, they wanted to hear every word�every detail of what Riktor had to say, because they knew it was going to be something important.

He stood in the center of the ring as his music faded out.

�I have to give it to the Faction." Boos. "Last week they rose to the occasion and, lets be honest, that hasn't exactly happened often as of late. I gave a well deserving man a shot at the Legacy Championship and I know people look at that and they might not see things my way. Adam Lazarus holds more wins over Sylo than any other LoC Grappler to date, regardless of how those wins came about. In my honest opinion, had that match gone the distance and Alan Helms not ruin it...Laz would be standing here with Legacy gold around his waist.� Riktor said this matter-of-factly to a receiving crowd in the Arena of Champions.

"Sylo may be bigger, stronger, and meaner than Laz...but there's one thing he doesn't have that Adam Lazarus has in spades. Heart. Laz would have kept getting up until his heart stopped. He knew the opportunity placed in front of him and the man rose to the occasion. You look at the odds, every man outside that ring wanted to see the Superbeast fall. But Black Tom Williams couldn't let things play out the way they should...inside the ring."

He was about to continue, but he wasn�t permitted the chance. Upon bringing the microphone back up to his mouth, he found that the P.A. System was already airing a noise other than his voice.

�Paint It Black� by The Rolling Stones.

The crowd turned to the entrance-way, wishing they�d smuggled in some tomatoes to toss at the old son of a bitch who stepped out onto the stage. With his normal scowl worn, it was hard to tell what kind of mood Black Tom Williams was in. Bah, who the fuck are we kidding here?! It�s Black Tom we�re talking about, his good moods are pretty much one in the same with the average person�s bad moods.

The crowd continued booing when Penance and Angelique stepped out from the back as well, taking their places beside Black Tom. Penance was a freakishly huge bodyguard�no doubt about it. And, well, Angelique dug those who were freakishly huge and horribly burnt.

�Cut it,� Black Tom was talking about his music and his word was heeded immediately.

�There you go again, Scotty, makin' them outlandish claims. Lemme tell you somethin', son. Fer two weeks in a row, yer boy Laz has gotten his head kicked in by the Legacy Champion. The only reason he won either of those matches is cause he ain't even worth the trouble of coverin' fer a pinfall. Matter of fact, puttin' in the effort to cover that sumbitch would be a step down the ladder fer Sylo.�

It was a good point.

Black Tom cut in, �Did you see how Sylo jus' tossed him around the ring last week? Were you even watchin' the match or were you too busy cookin' up this week's fiasco. Son, ain't you learned by now that there ain't nothin' you can do that's gonna get that belt offa Sylo's waist? Hell, line these sumbitches up and watch the Superbeast run through 'em like they was paper mache. You think the last two weeks was somethin'? Wait til we get to Revelations an' you put this big ol' animal inside a cage. I guaran-damn-tee you ain't none of them other boys comin' out alive.�

For some odd reason that claim didn't go over big with the Arena of Champions' crowd. Go figure.

Scott Riktor blinked. Then he brought the mic up. �Did you really just guaran-damn-tee something? Is it 1999 all over again? We don't rehash old angles here, Tom, that's another brand. Or wait...that's no brand. In any case I realize that I have not been fair to our drano-tinted friend and because of that I've decided to put him on an even playing field for a change.

There�s a tag match tonight. It�s the main event, actually. Your boy Sylo, and your tiny cohort there, Penance�they�ll be squaring off against two men who are certified Legacy Title Contenders.� Scott smiled.

The crowd was roaring, but who would be on the other side of the ring from Sylo and Penance?

Black Tom had the same question, �That�s fine and dandy and I�m sure The Destroyer will be delighted to hear it. Now then, who�s on the other team?

�Well, I�ll tell you who is on the other team�actually�no I won�t.�

Scott almost had the crowd booing until the music hit.

Silverchair�s �No Association� and the crowd gave up a massive response that showed that, so far, they were pleased with the team Riktor had assembled. For a few moments, The Ronin couldn�t be located, and then the camera revealed him coming down the stairs and pushing his way through a frantic group of die-hard LoC fans. They slapped him on the back, and while he gave no noticeable response, you knew that deep down�he wanted to give each and every one of them high-fives.

Ninja K hopped over the barricade and slid into the ring before walking over and standing next to Scott Riktor. His music died down, but the crowd didn�t.

After roughly a minute of hardcore cheering from the members in the audience, Scott Riktor turned to The Midnight Assassin.

�Kenshiro, it's such a weird coincidence that you would come out here like this. How are you doing on this lovely summer night?� Scott asked.

Ninja K pondered for a moment before leaning into the microphone, �My spirit is alive and in rare form on this evening�and I must say, I�m ready to take the blue-haired beast and paint him crimson.�

That�s all it took for Ninja K to get his point across, and the crowd ate it up while Black Tom�s lip twitched a bit.

�That�s great. That�s some tough talk there, Ken, them�s fightin� words. But while you�re busy talkin� that there talk, Sylo is going to be busy walkin� the walk, and he�ll be steppin� on your spine doin� it! Enough�who�s the other man? Ray Chavez?! Huh?! I bet that sumbitch is just achin� to stick it to The Faction. Or are you gonna reveal yer mystery man tonight? Lord knows what that boy had to do to get a job 'round here.� Black Tom was working on another anger-infested tangent.

�Check it out, check it out, check it out,
Got clout, and ya know that,�

Luckily 311�s �Large in the Margin� drowned him out. The fans quickly followed in drowning Black Tom out. God, their lungs were killing them with all this cheering, but they managed to increase the wattage when Billows came stomping out from backstage and shoved his way between Black Tom and Penance.

Black Tom was somewhat shocked by the arrogance on display from The Young Lion. Who the hell did he think he was shoving Black Tom out of the way like that? Penance didn�t much appreciate it either and started to take a step forward, but Black Tom held his hand up and Angelique lightly grabbed hold of Penance�s arm.

Billows slid into the ring and climbed onto the nearest turnbuckle before extending his arms to his sides and staring out into the sea of fans who responded to him with an explosion of cheers. He hopped down and walked over to Scott who shook his hand and handed him the microphone.

Billows� music died down and he spun around and looked at the two assholes and the cunt who were standing on the stage.

�I don�t have much to say, because God knows this crap has already cut long enough into time that could be better spent on, say, wrestling!� Billows paused as the crowd cheered and Riktor gave off a slight chuckle, �But I�ve been waiting long enough to get back into the ring with the big, bad blueberry of doom. If he hasn�t figured it out yet, Tommy Boy, you drill it into that thick skull of his�The Young Lion fears no man. That includes The Superbeast.�

The crowd was about to start cheering, but Billows continued quickly, �I�ve seen him cripple men. I�ve seen him destroy careers. I saw when he crucified a man,� Riktor hung his head at the ugly memory, ��and I�m still not scared of him. At all. The only weapon Sylo has against ME�is what he can do in the ring. And I�ll tell you what�I�m not scared of that either.�

As Billows handed the microphone back to Scott Riktor, he kept his gaze locked with Black Tom�s, and the stare-down was intense.

�So there you have it, Tom. I hope your champ is rea��

Black Tom cut Riktor off, �No.�

�What?� Scott questioned.

�No�that ain�t goin� ta� suffice. I watched the numbers get played against Sylo last week, and it was disgustin�. I want a third man on our side of the ring. I �ont give a rat�s ass who it is, that�s up t�yer choosin�, Scott. But unless y�wanna see Sylo walkin� away from that ring tonight, you�ll smile and comply.� Black Tom grinned.

He knew what was about to happen. It had played out in his head just liked it played out on screen�

Scott looked at Billows and Ninja K, apparently waiting for their approval. The three men huddled and spent a few moments conversing. The huddle broke up and Scott Riktor walked over the set of ropes nearest the ramp.

�That�s a deal, Tom. I know a �feller� who won�t give a damn which side of the ring he�s on�And you�ll see him when Main Event time comes around.� Scott said.

The crowd broke out in cheers as Black Tom made one more statement, �Fine then. Better be good�otherwise, Sylo walks.�

With that, �Paint It Black� came back on, and the three persons on the ramp took their leave.

Riktor, Billows, and Kenshiro stood in the ring discussing things as Violence cut to a commercial.

Billows and Ninja K had an uphill battle ahead of them.

STAY TUNED!

HERE'S TO NEW FRIENDSHIPS...MAYBE

Serenity fell upon the abandoned concession room, playing host to the sole presence of newly crowned tag champion, Statuz Quo. Preparing his own fair share of cappuccinos had found itself as a regular for the Jury member whom subsequently placed the stirring straw upon the oak counter before securing his place at the small round table.

This reservation of solitude offered Quo an alternative to the madness which inhabited the illustrious Arena of Champions...it offered him a chance to get away from it all and simply meditate in thought. It had become such a welcomed period of grace that he found himself engaging in it every event. This one, however, held a slight difference from that of those in the past.

The gracing of Christel Iscariot�s presence was the factor of that very difference. It was not her amazon appearance that made her presence awkward, however, but it was instead her status as one half of the newly acquired tag team, Absalom�s Rebellion. Think about it for a moment...one member of a team that hungered for tag team gold and one member of a team that held that tag gold. To say that there was a burning cancer brewing in the concession room would be quite the understatement.

After concluding with the preparation of her own cappuccino, Christel took a seat at the opposite end of the roundtable, directly across from Quo. The two knew whom the other was and because of this, they found themselves in a struggle not to make eye contact, but soon the silence became too much to bear. One of them had to break the mold...

�I see you�re a fan of sweetened cappuccino�s as well.� stated Quo after observing the first similarity between the two, thus making it the center of the conversation.

�Hardly. This stuff is so bad, though, that it really leaves you no other choice.� responded Christel as a small chuckle escaped her breath. Afterwhich, she extended her hand, requesting a handshake from her counter-part while introducing herself.

�The name�s Christel...Christel Iscariot.� spoke Christel as she firmly shook the hand of Quo who was quick to accept the gracious offer, much to her surprise.

�Wow...you actually shook my hand.� stated Christel in bewilderment as she took a moment to sip on her cappuccino.

�Why wouldn�t I?� questioned Quo as he took the same effort of sipping his cappuccino whilst awaiting an answer.

�Well...you�re one half of the tag champions, and I�m one half of a team seeking those belts. Plus, there�s no denying you can have an attitude problem at times.� answer Christel as she struggled to give the answer in as subtle a manner as she possibly could.

�Get it straight...the attitude only comes when these suckas try to disrespect my rep. You, though...you�re pretty cool from what I can tell. And then again, you�re, what...six foot eight? Not exactly a person who�s bad side I would want to get on, haha.�

The two both shared a laugh as they paused simultaneously for a moment to partake of their cappuccino. Neither one of them were ever known for their welcoming attitudes, which made such a peaceful meeting between the two a little difficult to swallow, but nonetheless it was there. Maybe there was chemistry after all.

�You know, if you were any one of these other pathetic niggas, you�d probably have sneak attacked me as soon as you spotted me in this room...but, you�re different. You�re not like the rest of these ass-clowns who are only out for themselves. I got mad respect for that, kid.� came the statement from Quo as he nodded his head in approval and greeted Christel�s smile with one of his own.

�Yeah...In my two weeks here, I�ve already found out that a lot of these guys can be trifling, especially that Kevin Kenwright character.� She responded as anger began to boil upon her face at the very mention of KKK�s name.

�Tell me about it. That fool�s begging for a beatdown, and I wouldn�t mind being the one to grant him that very wish.� He replied, burying his fist into the palm of his hand as he wishfully glanced into the sky, thinking over the possibility of destroying KKK.

�Please hit me up when you decide to do so, I su-...�

�What the hell is this!?�

Both figures shifted their heads to the entrance of the concession room in response to the highly pitched shout. Upon doing so, they found the culprit behind such a shout to be none other than the other half of Absalom�s Rebellion...Elisa Iscariot.

Christel immediately pushed herself out the chair, managing to grab hold of Elisa before she could get her hands on Statuz Quo. Elisa�s anger was so great, however, that she found herself pushing off Christel before pointing a finger in the face of her sister, despite the obvious size difference.

�What the hell do you think you�re doing, Christel!?�

�Calm down, Elisa...we were just talking, n-...�

�Talking? Why are you talking to this clown? He�s trying to break you down, Christel, can�t you see that!?� Elisa shouted, face transforming into a shade of red and eyes raving with rage.

�Look, it�s nothing like that� Quo responded to the accusation, taking the time to push himself out of the seat and hold up his hands in innocence. This only led Elisa to brush past Christel and stand toe to toe with the gangster himself.

�You listen to me you son of a bitch! You stay away from my sister or I swear before my dead father that I�ll leave you lifeless in thi-...�

�Aye, little girly. Back off!� came another shout from the entrance of the concession room. All three figures turned their head towards the door to spot none other than the other half of the tag team champions, Ali Khadafi, charging through with his eyes set on Elisa.

With little to no hesitation, Khadafi made his way over to Elisa, yanking the female around so that the two faced each other eye to eye.

�Don�t talk to �...�

But then he found himself yanked around by the much larger Christel who pointed her finger into his face.

�Don�t you EVER touch my sister again!�

Quo steps in, restraining Khadafi as he attempts to speak some sense.

�Listen, man...it�s nothing like that.�

�Come on Christel...let�s get out of here.� Elisa demanded.

And with that, the two dramatically exited the room, leaving behind a potential friendship between two souls who both sought the same thing...peace.

"That wasn't cool, Ali."

�Forget that. can you believe she touched me, homie! She's trying to sweet talk her way into the Jury so she can strip us of our belts, can't you see that? She won't get away with it, though...not if I have anything to do with it. That trick is gonna learn...

Believe me, she�ll learn.�

Cameras returned ringside for the first match of the night as "Public Service Announcement" by Jay-Z which signaled the impending arrival of Jonathan Conspiracy.

Conspiracy came through the curtain, looking a little worse for wear with a microphone tightly gripped in his right hand. As he made his way to the ring, he raised the microphone to his mouth and started to let loose!

"You know, I just don't understand why I get treated the way I get treated. Everyone seems to be complaining about me 'flip-flopping'... first I want nothing to do with Violence so I start making appearances on Underground, yet continue to wrestle on Violence. Then when I'm in the Underground I don't want the Underground Title and decide to leave, only to show up and wrestle for the Underground Title at the end of the last show."

JCON paused for a moment as he climbed the ringsteps to get on the apron, where he would resume his speech.

"Now everyone's like why aren't you going for the Legacy Title... its because my boy Sylo has it dummy! Oh so what about the Underground Title... Turk is a wanted man and from the looks of it with Black Tom enlisting the services of Tony Suits & Brute I! should be the one dethroning him, but Black Tom knows what I really want... and ITS GOLD! I mean just look at who the Relentless Champion is... PHOENIX ROSE???? What the shit is that? But I'm not going to worry about it, because once I get my Rentless Title shot Phoenix Rose will be receiving his namesake either from a hospital bed or a burial plot... unless De-Nacho gets him first."

Conspiracy finally ducked between the top and middle ropes and walked to the dead center of the ring.

"But that's just the tip of the iceberg. Everyone's hitting up the dirtsheets wanting to know what's going on with The Faction. Whose still in, and whose out. Well I'm only assuming this, but I think Statuz Quo, Ali Khadafi and Duzza decided to walk... but it wasn't like they did anything for us anyway. The JURY! HA! Y'all a bunch of SNITCHES if you ask me, in fact if it was up to me I'd get Malik and the two of us would bring The Faction back those Tag Team Titles... in fact how about..."

A "GOLD DIGGER!" CHANT STARTED TO CIRCULATE THROUGHOUT THE ARENA OF CHAMPIONS!

"If I can't wrestle for gold, what am I going to wrestle for? Honor? HA... that is definitely a dumb ass thing to do, I mean who in their right mind would be dumb enough to wrestle for honor?"

"Asian Sensation" started up and out from behind the curtain stepped Hiro Mitaki. As the 'Asian Sensation', Hiro didn't have much success, but since shedding the monikor Hiro has put out a pretty decent effort and even managed to make some trips to 'the pay window'. Conspiracy didn't care about that, as he raised the microphone back to mouth.

"And I thought Logan Creig couldn't wrestle. Ref ring the bell."

Conspiracy tossed the microphone aside and removed his "One Letter Better... Than ICON" t-shirt as the bell sounded to start the match up.

*DING DING*

Conspiracy and Mitaki circled each other as JCON toyed with his opponent by continuously backing out of lockups. JCON then stopped moving. He pointed to Hiro and let out a mock laugh before he headed for the ropes and stuck his leg between the middle and top ropes as if to make an exit. The ref approached Conspiracy and asked what he was doing and Conspiracy was pointing to the back. Hiro wasn't having that though as he ran the ropes and came flying at Conspiracy with a Running Spinning Heel Kick. Conspiracy crashed to the outside. A stunned JCON shook his head and looked around to make sure he knew where he was. Once he remember he immediately got to his feet, although his vertical base wasn't stable. Conspiracy crawled in under the bottom rope where he was met by Hiro who brought Conspiracy back up to his feet.

A few knife edge chops kept Conspiracy reeling while Hiro remained on the offensive with a snap suplex. He then brought Conspiracy back to his feet and placed him in a devastating hold.

SIDE HEADLOCK!

Hiro Mitaki was successful with this manuever to get a victory on Underground with the hold, but he was nowhere near as intense with the hold this time around as JCON backed him into the ropes and managed to slip out and send Hiro into the ropes. CON himself bounced off the ropes and ran at Hiro taking him down with a clothesline. He turned to the crowd and shouted...

"I GOT HIM NOW!", while making a jester to his waist about becoming a champion. He brought Hiro back to his feet and executed a go behind, before he planted Hiro neck and shoulderblade first into the mat with a release german suplex. Conspiracy then took to the air from the middle turnbuckle with a knee drop. He then got back to his feet and stood over Hiro and turned to the referee. He pointed at the ref before he dropped to his knees and lateral pressed the "Asian Sensation".

1...

2...NO! JCON pulled Hiro's shoulders off of the mat. It wasn't like Hiro couldn't of kicked out but Conspiracy really wasn't worried about getting the pinfall victory this early in the match. He wanted to prove to everyone why he was indeed "One Letter Better" than an icon. He punched at Hiro and ascended to the top rope this time. He made another jester to his waist before leaping off with his patented guillotine legdrop.

CONSPIRACY THEORY!

But the move was connected with the mat as Hiro rolled out of the way. It was now Hiro's turn to ascend to the top ropes and he would connect with a guillotine legdrop of his own and covered Conspracy.

1...

2...

3... NO! JCON kicked out. Hiro started to bring Conspiracy back up to his feet was intercepted with a lowblow from the man who calls himself "The One!"

Conspiracy then took to the outside and retrieved a chair. The ref tried to warn him about using the chair but he didn't head the warning and waited for Hiro to get to his feet. Once Hiro got to a vertical base, Conspiracy took a swing with the chair but Hiro ducked the attempt and nailed Conspiracy with a standing side kick causing Conspiracy to drop the chair. Mitaki then ran towards the ropes and planted JCON with a running bulldog, before slingshotting himself over the top rope onto the ring apron. A woozy Conspiracy, who tried his best to shake out the cobwebs, turned around just as Hiro slingshotted himself onto the top rope and was immediately grabbed by Hiro's legs.

JAPANESE HURRICANE!

Hiro Mitaki's Flipping Diving Huricanrana was executed to perfection. He reached back and grabbed a hold of Conspiracy's left leg as the ref made the count.

1...

2...

3... the ref got to his feet and signaled for the bell. And in that instant a stunned crowd popped. Sure they were glad for Hiro's "upset" victory over JCON, but most in attendance were probably just happy to see JCON eat his words.

"Asian Sensation" started back up as a frustrated and stunned JCON rolled around holding his head, as Hiro's arm was raised in victory. Replays of the Japanese Hurricane were shown as Hiro bowed to the crowd in attendance. Conspiracy whose spotlight was stolen rolled himself under the bottom rope still holding his head and made his exit as the cameras left ringside.

Winner: Hiro Mitaki.

WITH ALL DUE RESPECT...

The camera showed the inside the office of the President of Legacy of Champions himself�Black Tom Williams. Black Tom sat comfortably in his executive leather chair behind his huge oak executive desk. Sitting across from him was none other than his ace talent recruiter, Mystique Darkheart. Dressed in a tight black business suit skirt, Mystique looked softly upon Black Tom. Apparently, both were having an open meeting as the door to the office was wide open.

�So darlin�, I wanted to tell ya that ya�ll have been doin� one hell of a job gettin� us some premiere talent. Signing Alan Helms was a stroke of genius and now the Faction is becomin� even more stronger by the moment.�

�Thank you, Mr. Williams.� Mystique replied. �There were some tough negotiations in trying to pull Mr. Helms away from no brand Wrestling, but in the end, my expertise lent itself very nicely, do you not think?�

�Damn right darlin�! But now we must move on to our next member of the Faction�Ulysis Solian�� Black Tom stated bluntly.

�Sir, with all due respect�� Mystique tried to interject but was cut off by Black Tom.

�Listen, I know you an� him are goin� through some ruff times, but right now darlin�, business before personal. How do we get �im to join the Faction? And furthermore, how do we get �im to be Suicide and help me destroy Scott Riktor?�

Black Tom Williams definitely did not pull any punches upon the questions he just asked Mystique Darkheart.

�To be perfectly honest sir, you are never going to get Ulysis. One thing you will never do, no matter how much he has changed, is try to have him follow authority of any kind. In the past, when myself, Scott, and others were together in our own little �faction� if you will, Ulysis was always the free spirit of the group. Sure, he was always there when you needed him, but in the end, he wanted to be his own man. Because of his devotion to be an individual, in a way, cost him half his eyesight amongst other things. You see Mr. Williams, Ulysis will sacrifice anything, and I mean anything to be his own man. Though he was the most loyal of the group, in the end, he stands alone.�

�Hmmm�� Black Tom pondered. �So there is no possible way we can get �im to be wit da Faction?�

�I am afraid not, sir.� Mystique sadly replied.

�Then dat leaves me no choice but to enforce his contract as he had signed which states �I, Ulysis Solian, agree to be affiliated with Black Tom Williams and The Faction if employed to work for Legacy of Champions.�� Black Tom set Solian�s contract down on top of his desk as he smirked. �Da boy has no choice but to do what I say, when I say it, and how I say it. After No Turning Back, he�s as good as mine, no matter what.�

�Sir,� Mystique said to Black Tom. �if I may, I suggest you let that stipulation go. Ulysis is very unstable and knowing what he is capable of, you may be in for some tough times. If you wish to eliminate Scott Riktor from his position and standing here in LoC, then may I suggest an alternative plan?�

�And what would dat be, darlin�?� Black Tom inquired.

�You do realize that Ulysis is not the only one who know Scott per��

Mystique Darkheart was interrupted as over the speakerphone a secretary answers to Black Tom Williams.

�Sir, Scott Riktor request the contract for No Turning Back that you had promised to have signed?�

�That�s right. Tell dat sumovabitch that Jonathan Conspiracy will sign it very soon. In fact, tell dat bastard I was just on my way to get �im,� replied Black Tom.

�Very well sir. I shall inform Mr. Riktor right away.�

�So darlin�,� Black Tom looked at Mystique �shall we go an� take care o� sum bui�ness?�

�Yes, Mr. Williams. But I would really like to talk to you about this alternate��

�Sure, sure, darlin�! We�ve got plenty o� time do discuss dis shortly,� interrupted Black Tom.

Both the President of Legacy of Champions and his personal recruiter exited the executive office, but conveniently left the door wide open. After both Black Tom Williams and Mystique were long gone, the fans cheered loudly as out from behind the door, that was open and against the wall besides the threshold, was none other than Ulysis Solian. He glanced to his side as if he was watching the two with his peripheral vision.

Ulysis Solian took a sip from his tin cup and started to whistle as he slowly walked toward Black Tom Williams� executive desk. He glanced down and grabbed hold of his contract. Ulysis gave a slight smirk before he took another sip from his tin cup. Just as he accomplished what he had set out to do and started to walk away from the desk�


�he paused for a brief moment as something else caught his attention. Apparently, some legal document that sat next to Ulysis� contract caught his interest greatly. He slowly walked backwards before he turned around and grabbed hold of the document. Solian scanned it up and down with scrutiny�


�and for the first time ever, gave a huge smile as if Santa Claus gave him what he wanted for Christmas. Ulysis Solian rolled up the document and his contract together and tucked it in the inside of his hooded sweater. Then, Ulysis threw the hood up over his head, concealing most of his visage. With no more business left for him in Black Tom Williams� office, The Prodigal Son was finally on his way, as he took his leave. As he exited the office, Ulysis Solian made sure he closed the door behind him�out of respect, of course.

RELENTLESSLY SEEKING OPPONENTS: 1

Rose exited through a dark wooden door, his face sagged, cane loosely hung at his side. He looked down at the Relentless championship draped over his shoulder. He gave a heavy sigh before walking down the hallway. A few feet further down the corridor three chairs were set against the wall. Kevin Kassidy Kenwright sat at one of these chairs. Seeing his manager, face low and sans his goofy smile, KKK jumped to his feet, a concerned look crossing his face.

�What did they want?� He asked, the concern of his face being mirrored by his voice.

�My head on a fucking stick.� He grunted.

Confused, KKK pressed on. �What do you mean?� he asked.

�They said if I don�t defend the Relentless title tonight they�re going to strip me of the title belt.�

Kenwright�s eyes widened.

�T-they can�t� I won�t allow it.� He announced, finding a current of confidence mid sentence.

Rose looked at his client, who was standing with his chest puffed out.

�What?�

�I�m going to find somebody to fight tonight, and I�ll defend that belt on your behalf!� he proclaimed.

It should not be a difficult task, a title shot in a professional wrestling promotion is gold dust, and to have it handed to you on a plate is an absolute gift. Both men knew this and so the plan was hatched. KKK would wander the halls of the Arena of Champions and the first person he crossed, he would challenge.

�You sir, are a gentleman.� Rose said, extending his hand to his client. The two shook hands and parted ways.

THE SPOTLIGHT IS DEAD

The lights in the Arena of Champions dimmed as a spotlight started spinning full circle around the arena� �Just Like You� by Three Days Grace hit the airwaves and this was the first time this arena had seen such an entrance� Most of the audience was confused as the spotlight continued spinning, searching through the crowd, but a select few recognized this entrance from a different arena� The Epic Arena, notably the home arena of nbW.

And this was the intro of their former golden boy, Alan Helms.

�Cut this crap, cut this crap!� Just as quickly as the intro had begun, the lights in the arena were back on, and the music came to a screeching halt as Alan Helms walked through the curtain with a microphone to his lips, and he didn�t look happy at all. �What the hell does this look like???� Helms looked around� �Nope this doesn�t look like some shithole in Pennsylvania,� obviously referring to his former home in a negative light, �Now play my REAL fucking music!�. Helms dropped the microphone where he stood and struck his signature pose, spreading his arms out wide, then bringing them in to form a tight �X� against his chest.

Blue sparkling pyro rained down onto the stage as his LoC theme entitled Stone Angel had taken over the arena speakers. Helms broke his pose just as some more pyro rocketed from the top of the ramp and he strutted down the aisle. The admiration of a few young fans, eager to cheer for anyone who would simply slap their hands, was shot down by the cold and cocky gaze in Alan�s eye as he walked by them. This was a new Alan Helms, never before seen by wrestling fans anywhere.

As Alan approached the ring stairs, he made sure to hock a giant loogie at the cameraman who first approached him. Quite a shot really, landing it right on the lens, cackling to himself and flashing an egotistical smirk as the production crew had to switch over to a new camera angle while they cleaned off Alan�s mucus.

Alan stepped into the ring with his music still playing and he was handed a microphone through the bottom rope. The sound crew cut his music off but Helms wasn�t ready to begin yet. He was receiving mixed reactions from the crowd; some of them not caring at all, some booing, and some even cheering a bit for the fact that he jumped ship. One thing was certain though, Helms had a lot on his mind and he planned on airing some dirty laundry tonight.

"Well I must say, I was hoping a change of scenery would cheer me up but looking out at y'all tonight, I've realized that well... you're all just as ugly as the crowd from the incestuous back-hills of Pennsylvania!"

And just like that, if there had been any Alan Helms marks in the crowd before, there certainly weren't any remaining.

"Now don't get me wrong, I've already run through enough hot poon tang backstage to keep me happy for a little while... but oh wait... that's right you wouldn't know anything about that POON TANG now wouldya? And don't say you've seen it on iN DEMAND pay-per-view cuz that don't cut it. There's a reason why the porno business is a multi-billion dollar industry, and looking at you makes me understand that figure."

More cheap heat from the crowd as Helms looked pretty pleased with himself in the ring.

"But no, I'm not here tonight to discuss the state of the porno business, I'm here tonight to set the record straight." Helms was obviously referring to his debut last week in which he attacked Adam Lazarus with a chair during Laz's title match with Sylo. "You see, the buzz is that I'm supposed to be coming out here to give you all some sort of an explanation as to why I am here and no longer with the competition, and really I don't know how much explanation I can give." Alan paused a moment, raising his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, as he dipped his head down in thought for a moment... "I guess the best explanation I can give would be through an analogy, so here it goes... and bare with me... but the way I see it, the wrestling industry is much like prostitution. The uglier the customers, the more you get paid!!! HAHA!" Helms leaned back and opened his mouth wide as he laughed and pointed out towards the crowd.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

More boos from the crowd. Even some wadded up pieces of paper were thrown into the ring, to which Helms looked at as pathetic idiocy on their parts.

"But you see, if you all think for ONE MOMENT that I DIDN'T have any problem leaving a place that I called home for over a year and a half -- a place that I helped jump start onto the national scene... Well, then I�d have to say� that's probably the smartest thought you've had all day! AHA! It was the easiest decision I've ever made in my life, because as you can all see I'm not the cartoon hero that they portrayed me as... no not at all. I don't care for making appearances or signing autographs. I don't want to shake your hands or hold your babies. I�d rather screw your wives or corrupt your children. In fact, if there's three things in the world that I love above anything else... excluding myself, that is... they would have to be sex, money, and VIOLENCE!"

The crowd reactions were classic: Mothers covering their children�s ears, grown men lashing out like pre-pubescent teenagers. Helms might not be the man he was once considered, but good or bad he sure knew how to work a crowd.

�Speaking of Violence, I am sure that you are all sitting in your uncomfortable seats, and wondering to yourselves�� Al�s thoughts began to wander, �how in the hell did Alan Helms get so good looki � oh wait, no that wasn�t what I was going to say� he snapped outta it �I mean the answer to that question was obvious, but the real question at stake� Why?� Helms clenched a fist. �Why did I come out here last week and viciously� heinously� WONDERFULLY wrap that steel chair around Laz�s head?�

Alan paused as if to let them think a moment.

���

He then shouted �BECAUSE PEOPLE LIKE LAZ DISGUST ME!!!� Helms was even shaking a bit. �I was once a guy like Laz; the underdog that all the fans love to cheer for. Everyone knows you don�t have a chance in hell of winning, but they like to cheer you and hope that miracles still happen in this day in age�� The capacity crowd hated to hear it, but one couldn�t argue that scenario, especially given Laz�s situation against Sylo last week. �Well you should all be thanking me quite honestly, because I delivered you all your miracle. Laz WON the match.� Nodded Helms as an evil grin took over his face. It was obvious that he was replaying the act in his head as he spoke of it. �But I didn�t let that bastard win without a price!!!�

In the back of the arena, a �Laz� chant broke out, and there were various echoes about how much �Helms sucks�, which of course is a chant you can�t enter a wrestling arena today without hearing.

�Shut the hell up! Laz isn�t going to be here tonight. You don�t get a miracle two weeks in a row, and in fact I believe he�s still counting the tweety-birds flying around his head from last week! AHA!�

No sooner had he finished saying that, he was eating his own words as �Sevendust� blasted throughout the arena and Adam Lazarus, known to the fans as their beloved �Laz�, was stepping out through the curtain. His head was still bandaged up good but he had a mic in hand.

�LAZ� � �LAZ� � �LAZ� � The fans were cheering and he soaked it all in before he let Helms have a piece of his mind.

Laz gathered his thoughts and then began. �Alan, last week on Violence, with one swing of a chair you took away an opportunity I�ve waited my entire life for. A dream that��

�WHOOOOAAA WHOA WHOA�� Alan cut in. �Before you embark on your epic sob story, maybe you missed out on the part where I MADE your miracle come true last week. It was like a chapter right out of the Make A Wish foundation�s book. You won.! And if you honestly think that you had a chance against The Superbeast, Sylo� Then maybe I whacked you across the head even harder than I thought!�

�Yah Alan? You come in here and after one week you already think you are so great? I guess the dirtsheets didn�t lie about you� You�re nothing but one big ego trip with a little bit of talent. You�ll find yourself yourself pretty lonely around here, but if you�re looking for a fight, then you�ve got one�� Laz peered out at the crowd, building some suspense, and then finished. �You�ve got one tonight!�

Helms raised his hand to his heart as if he�d just been shot in the chest, then hunched over laughing. �Wait� one moment, you really got me there� Lonely. Oh, so lonely.� Helms continued to play hurt. He then stood up and focused in on Laz once again. �I guess I must not have made it clear for you last week, but I don�t plan on being so lonely.�

Laz ambushed from behind!!!

Adam Lazarus had been tackled hard to the steel ramp and beaten on while Alan Helms watched with great pleasure. When it was said and done, Laz was laid out cold with his bandages removed and his head bleeding profusely.

A savage attack at the hands of� The Faction!

�Oh and Laz� Helms added, �I hope you can hear me buddy, because I accept your offer for a fight later on tonight�� Alan chomped on his gum. �So rest up, and I�ll see you REAL soon.� He smiled and then launched his gum into the air, swatting it out into the crowd. Some unlucky fan was going to need a new haircut!

As the man formerly known to the world as �The Spotlight� Alan Helms, exited the ring and headed up the ramp giving a kick to the sprawled out Lazarus, it was very apparent that no longer was he some �golden boy� or role model of any kind. All that remained of him was the demon of his former self.

Helms disappeared through the curtain, and �The Spotlight� was dead�

ONE LETTER BETTERED

Of all the things that could happen tonight, no one expected Jonathan Conspiracy to lose the opening match to Hiro Mitaki. In fact with the way things were going around LoC, following his debut at Self Destruction, Jonathan Conspiracy should heavily be involved with the Legacy Title angle taking place before our very eyes. Jonathan Conspiracy should even be tossed into the whole "Sixth Man" talk. But alas he was sitting outside in the Arena of Champions hallway feeling displaced from the rest of the company... especially the very Faction that Conspiracy joined to push himself further up the ladder. However Sylo joining soon after left a log jam at the top, so it was JCON who took a backseat. He sat there as the LoC backstage environment moved on without him, until the silence was broken.

Ulysis Solian.

"What the hell do you want?!"

Solian stood before Conspiracy sipping from his tin cup saying nothing.

"Move along, there's nothing to see here!!"

Jonathan motioned for Solian to flee the scene. Solian took another sip from his tin cup and spit at JCON's foot. Solian then walked off to an undisclosed location as Jonathan removed himself from his seat (a steel chair by the way) and started after Solian with the chair in hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you."

That voice... it led Conspiracy to stop dead in his tracks. He turned only to see the last person he wanted to see.

"What's the matter Jonathan, can't beat Ulysis fair and square?"

"What do you want Wippit?!"

"Nice shirt."

The camera panned down to Conspiracy's "One Letter Better... Than Icon" t-shirt before back up to Conspiracy and Guud.

"You don't think I can beat Solian? Did you not see what I did to him on Underground, and if you didn't notice I would've beaten his ass at the last Violence if someone didn't interfere."

"Who was that?"

"You... it was you! Man fuck this!"

Conspiracy slammed the chair into the ground and stormed off.

"Wait you not gonna compliment my shirt??!"

Wippit looked down at his shirt as the cameras panned down to reveal his shirt.

ONE LETTER BETTER... THAN VIP!

'Lost' by Abortion Candy blasted through the Arena of Champions as Absalom�s Rebellion made their way through the entrance way ready to make their LoC in-ring debut on Violence. The duo of Elisa and Christel made their way down the ramp as the music continued to blare through the speakers. As the two women made their way through the ropes the lights in the arena turned pitch black as all you could see was the flashing of cameras as the music faded out.

�Go Away� by Cold blared clearly through the surrounding speakers as a spotlight glared across the arena until stopping at the top of the entrance way where Loyal 2 None made their way through the curtains accompanied by Brandon Kelley while the crowd began to chant undying, scaring words.

�A N C!�

�A N C!�

�A N C!�

�A N C!�

As the crowd continued the chant the music got louder as L2N continued their way to the ring. Undeniably, little hesitant as they stepped into the ring to face off against two women. The music faded as the lights turned faded back to their full brightness while the two teams stood in the middle of the ring ready for the bell.

�DING!�

Elisa and Kris Nightmare moved to the aprons of their respected corners as Corey and Christel stood in the ring ready to get the action started. Corey went to lock up with Christel but then hesitated as the pulled out of the challenge as he remembered this wasn�t going to be any ordinary match. He stepped back waiting for her to make the first move.

Christel moved and Corey circled the ring as they stared each other down. Finally Christel leaped in and the two locked up. Corey took control quickly as he forced her down to her knees but she wouldn�t give up as she built the momentum to move back to her feet as Elisa cheered her on in the corner. As she moved back to her feet she connected with a knee to the gut of Corey. He quickly released himself from the grapple as Christel stepped back and connected with a kick to the side of the head forcing Corey to the canvas with Corey flat on the mat she picked him up and whipped him into the ropes with a strong irish whip and connected with a swift side kick as he bounced back.

An angry Corey attempted to move back to his feet, as he reached his knees he received a vicious kick to the back forcing him back to the canvas. Christel once again moved in on the fallen Torn as she stepped behind him locking him in a camel clutch submission.

She tightened the hold as she pulled back just a tad bit farther. Corey squinting his eyes as he was in obvious pain. As it seemed Corey was about to tap Kris moved through the ropes and quickly attacked Christel with a clothesline.

�BITCH!!!�

Nightmare quickly picked Christel up off the canvas and whipped her into the turnbuckle with a strong irish whip as her back bounced off the top turnbuckle. Elisa hit the ring as she blindsided Nightmare with a martial arts kick to the kidney�s forcing him to his knees. The official broke it up and forced Elisa back to the team�s corner as both Torn and Nightmare laid in the ring. Torn slowly moved back to his feet and Christel was still feeling the effects of the whip in to the corner. Nightmare slowly rolled out of the ring as Corey saw that damage was done and picked Christel up off the canvas as she still held her back. He then forced her back into the turnbuckle as he hoisted her up to the top rope with her back to him. He then stepped up to the second rope as he locked her into a reverse headlock and lifted her up in the air as he stood on the second rope only to drop fall back for a reverse hanging ddt off the second rope. Torn moved to his feet quickly as he picked Christel off the canvas leaving her no time to wear off the effects, he whipped her into the ropes and connected with a boot to the face.

With the fallen Christel lying flat on her back Corey went for the pin.

ONE�.

TWO�

Kick out�

Christel managed to get the shoulder up before the official registered the three count as Torn was getting more and more flustered as he pictured the thought of getting defeated by a couple of girls. Corey moved to his knees and grabbed a handful of hair on Christel. He pulled it back forcing her to look up at him as he smiled and slammed her face into the canvas.

Corey moved back to his feet as he strutted across the ring and tagged in Nightmare. Nightmare still somewhat feeling effects from the kidney shot paid no attention to the pain in his right side as held out his hand to Christel in a kindly gesture of gratitude. She ignored the gesture and climbed back to her feet. Nightmare attempted yet another gesture of kindness as he motioned for her to tag in her partner. Again she ignored the gesture.

�SMACK!!�

Christel slapped Nightmare across the face. He stared at her with an evil glare as he wiped the side of his face with his hand. He moved in as he went for an open fist punch as it was blocked and followed with a kick to the midsection. Christel quickly took the opportune time and tagged in Elisa.

Elisa entered the ring in fury as she connected with numerous kicks forcing Nightmare to his knees. Nightmare shocked at the strength of the kicks sat there on his knees as Elisa attempted one last kick but failed as Kris grabbed her leg in mid air and moved back to his feet still holding onto her leg. A cocky Nightmare then pulled her in towards him and grabbed her by the throat with his other hand. The official warned him not to do anything stupid. As Kris stood their with her leg in arm and his hand around her throat Elisa used her open hands and connected with an open fist punch to the temple forcing Kris to drop.

Elisa stood above Nightmare as he sat on his knees in the center of the ring and smiled. She grabbed him by the ear and picked him up to his feet and connected with a strong and vicious kick to the left knee. She then grabbed him on the side of the neck forcing him to both knees as she hit a pressure point. Caught off guard with the idea of pressure points Kris grabbed her by the leg and pulled it back dropping her to the canvas.

Kris moved back to his feet and he picked Elisa off the canvas and whipped her into the corner. Nightmare went for a clothesline in the turnbuckle as Elisa ducked and moved out the way and followed up the reversal with a kick to the lower back once again forcing Nightmare to his knees. As the boys seemed to be getting their asses handed to them by the team of girls Corey quickly moved off the apron to the ring floor as he dug out a chair from under the ring and slid it into the corner. No one aware of it there, not even the official the action continued in the ring as Elisa again sent a strong kick to the back of Nightmare.

Elisa helped Nightmare to his feet as she whipped him into her team�s corner and she tagged in Christel, the two women each connected with kicks to the kidneys one right after the other and held Nightmare in the corner with their feet at his throat.

With Nightmare trapped in the corner there was no getting out. Corey saw his partner in trouble as he grabbed the chair and rushed into the ring. Distracted by the overwhelming thought of losing Corey was caught off card as Elisa removed her foot from Kris and connected with a super kick as it forced the chair into the face of Torn.

While Elisa focused on Torn, Nightmare turned the tables on Christel forcing her into the corner as he stood on the second rope and the official registered the ten counts as the crowd chanted with him.

�ONE�
�TWO�
�THREE�
�FOUR�
�FIVE�
�SIX�
�SEVEN�

Before the ten count could finish Elisa turned her attention to the corner turnbuckle as she noticed Nightmare standing over Christel in the corner and immediately climbed to the second rope behind Nightmare and grabbed him from behind in a blatant choke hold. As the team of Christel and Elisa focused their attention on Nightmare the official tried to break it up but was unsuccessful in his attempt as Torn moved back to his feet and picked up the chair that lied there in the ring. Torn swung it back only to have it grabbed by the official in an attempt to keep things fair, Torn struggled as he forced him to remove his hands from the chair as he yanked it back.

Torn then swung back the chair once again�

�WHACK!!!!!�

�DING!�

The official signaled for the bell as Loyal 2 None had been disqualified for the use of the chair. Torn went nuts as he continued to lay the chair to the flesh of Christel.

�WHACK!!!!!�

�WHACK!!!!!�

�WHACK!!!!!�

�WHACK!!!!!�

The official tried to restrain Torn but was too weak to hold him back.

�WHACK!!!!!�

�WHACK!!!!!�

�WHACK!!!!!�

Torn continued his rampage as Corey swung the chair several more times this time attacking Elisa, several members of security rushed to the ring to help as the bell once again sounded for the disqualification.

�DING!�

Torn was then escorted to the back as Nightmare and Kelley exited the ring and followed with looks of shock stuck on their face.

Winner: Absalom's Rebellion.

FREEDOM?

The locker room of Derecho was seen as the scene opened up. Derecho was seen pacing back and forth. He looked to have been waiting for something, or someone. All of a sudden, Phoenix Rose runs in, almost out of breath.

�Well? Did you get them or not?�, asked Derecho.

Phoenix Rose took a minute to catch his breath.

"Dude! Guy! Listen! Rabbits... Badgers... and some girl who commands them with her tampon... jumped out of the cake and started throwing this peanut butter and.... well.. long story.. but I have them right here!"

Derecho�s face glowed bright red with anger.

�You idiot! Those items aren�t even on the list I gave you! You know something, you�re supposed to be my servant and my manager. That was the stipulation we had in the contract I had you sign, but all you�ve done since then is screw everything up with your stupid attempts at being funny. Well, Mr. Rose, I am growing very very tired of this crap. Are you going to live up to your end of the bargain or not?�

Rose stared at Derecho. He couldn�t take it anymore.

"Aw c'mon chief. All this running around and stuff... it makes me sweat! Little beads of salty water drip into my eyes.. then I can't see.... it's not for me! I should be free like the wind!"

Derecho took a moment to ponder the request.

�You want your freedom? Fine. Granted.�, stated Derecho.

Rose�s face lit up with excitement, but shock. He couldn�t believe it was that easy.

�You�re free� on one condition����. Fight me�.

Rose looked baffled and pointed toward his glass cane, but as soon as he did, he just realized the mistake he just made.

�Oh right... that... listen... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to press you into a situation where you would be in danger of your physical state.�

Rose shook his head �yes� frantically. If he shook it anymore, it would have fallen off!

�The only way you would be able to have a match with me is if� you weren�t really injured in the first place, wouldn�t it.�

Rose took a deep swallow as he eyes widened. Derecho had him by the balls at this point.

�It�s too bad that you�re not healthy Rose.. I would have really loved to have faced you in the ring to let out some pent up aggression and�.. WAIT A MINUTE!! I�ve got it!!!�

Derecho walked over to a small end table which had a simple drawer in it. He opened it up and pulled out the infamous manilla file folder from a few weeks ago and opened it.

�I have here a little secret of yours Rose...�

Rose started to panic.

�Don�t worry.. I'm not ready to reveal it to the world yet. In fact, I have a feeling that you will actually want this job more than anything very very soon as a plan has been set in motion and the results of this plan may very well reshape my entire career and I know that you will want to be a part of it.�

Rose raised an eyebrow and Derecho grinned.

�Then again, I could just be saying all of this to keep your interest and keep you.. my little insurance policy.. from running away, but who knows?�

Derecho pinched Rose on his cheek and then walked away with a grin on his face.

"One more thing Rose... do not disappoint me again, otherwise.. I will not care if you are injured or not.. you will get your freedom at the cost of your life."

Derecho then walked through the door and exited as Rose stared at him.

"But what am I going to do with all these peanut butter tampons now?", asked Rose as if he had no clue what just happened.

ARMED AND NOT SO DANGEROUS

The camera opened to Brandon Thomas in the Commissioners' Office yammering on about something to Scott Riktor, arms flailing and everything. Scott was thumbing through a rolodex and slightly nodding, barely paying attention to what Brandon was saying. BT noticed this and decided to make his point loud and clear. He would say the next statement slowly and methodically.

"HE KICKED ME IN MY FACE!"

Scott kept nodding.

"You're not even listening to me. Are you listening?! I'm trying to tell you that Vince Jacobs kicked me in my head and, I gotta tell you, I don't think it was an accident!" Brandon paused. "See, I TiVOed last week's show so I could watch Sylo lose the Legacy Championship over and over again but instead I saw that kick. I rewound it, I paused it, I played it in slow-mo�he kicked me on purpose! I'm sure of it!"

"Yeah," was Scott's only reply.

"I'm cracking a huge case here and you don't even care. First it was you trying to keep me down, then it was Ninja K tearing my groin with his face, and now SVJ kicks me in my head! It's all a big conspiracy! Like Shawshank Redemption! You ever see that?! I was set up! All I know is�somebody's going down!" BT shot up from his seat on the couch and grabbed one of his crutches. Holding it like a machine gun he surveyed the room, ready to snipe out whoever was lurking behind the potted palm tree or the mini-fridge.

Riktor stood up from his desk and let out a big sigh before walking to said refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water. Scott took a sip and decided it was time to defuse the situation. "Put the gun down, Brandon."

"NO! Not until I find out who's trying to kill my superstarness!"

"Is superstarness even a word, moron?" That question came from the man that BT was complaining about, 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs. Jacobs walked into the commissioner's office and sat down on the chair in front of Riktor's desk.

"It is if I want it to be!"

SVJ turned to Scott. "A little help here?"

"Hey, it is if he wants it to be."

Back to Brandon Thomas. "I thought I taught you better than that Brandon. You have claimed all these years that you have surpassed me in every way. Now I find you in here complaining like a little bitch to Scotty. What's become of you BT?" Jacobs said with a smirk on his face.

"Now I came in to talk to Scotty, are you finished Brandon?" Jacobs said looking at BT.

"I decide when I'm finished, Vince. I own this whole company. I'm your boss." BT struck back.

"And�" Jacobs quickly shot back.

"�and� I'm finished. But not because you want me to be. I'm finished because I want me to be. Because I don't answer to anyone, you hear me?! You're not the boss of me!"

Jacobs folded his arms over his chest and let out a big laugh. Scott looked up with a smirk also trying to desperately stay out of the conversation. "You have to be smoking some good shit Brandon, because you're delusional. I actually wonder sometime do you have enough money to pay the wrestlers in the back in the next two months. Because I know for one I don't want my paycheck smoked up."

"Well, I don't want you to�'cause�and with your paycheck�DAMNIT!"

Riktor stood up from his desk. "All right, you two, enough. Vince did you need me for something."

"I just wanted to come in here and make sure that you were sane and not trying to offer that nbW reject, Alan Helms a shot at Sylo. Because what I said last week still stands." Jacobs replied stroking his chin.

Riktor shook his head. "Is that all?"

Jacobs stood up and glanced at BT before speaking to Scott again. �Yeah for now.�

Jacobs walked out of the office and down the hall. Someone quickly came around the corner and bumped into Vince. Jacobs not seeing who just bumped into him was ready to give this person a verbal tirade. �What the fuck? Watch where you are going rook...�

Jacobs looked up to see who the person was that he just bumped into was wearing a pair blue jeans a leather jacket. Vince had just bumped into one half of the former CWL Tag Team champions, Silence. �What the hell? I thought you were dead.� said the stunned Jacobs.

Silence patted Jacobs on the back and said "You and about twenty guys only wish I was dead." And Silence continued to walk down the hall. Jacobs looked at his former CWL co-worker and grinned.

�They�ll hire anybody in this place.�

DANGEROUS

The camera image goes back to Brandon Thomas in the Commissioner's Office. Instead of yammering, and flailing about, BT sat there across from Scott Riktor and grinned at him, happy with what he was just able to accomplish with SVJ. Which was... next to nothing. Riktor, eyes now slits of what they where, fully annoyed broke the silence. He talked slowly, carefully picking his words so as to keep his calm with his 'boss'.

"I know that... you don't know much about the day to day aspects of a fed... being the... owner... of this fed... but tonight being tonight. I've got a show to run. So I'm pretty busy at the moment." Thomas took this all in, nodding as if he weren�t even listening, but still happy with himself. Riktor said two more things, almost hissing them now.

"Please leave."

Thomas' eyebrows raised, and his lips pursed in surprise, he hadn't been paying attention, but this kind of caught him up with the situation. Now he wasn't exactly a stranger to causing trouble, but this was a very important man in his LoC system... and he could also probably hurt him more then he currently 'was'.

"You know what?" BT grabbed his crutches, and thumbed at the door, "I'm going to go now, you knooow, check out my show." There was no response from Riktor.

"Riiiight. You know, cause with tonight being tonight and me being the owner I have a lot of day to day things I need to take care of." Brandon Thomas nodded one more time, and was soon out of the room. Riktor leaned back in his chair, his face softened, but was still contemplative.

"Did you just think you thought what I just said?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

Scott watched the dumbest man to ever hold an immeasurable amount of money hobble out of his office and began a countdown to LoC's imminent death in his head. A few seconds later, his mind snapped back into reality.

"You wanted to sit in. Got any thoughts?" For a second it wasn't clear who the Legacy Commish was talking to, then the paneling in the ceiling could be heard moving, before a man clad all in black, a black hooded trench coat and black leather pants, dropped down from the ceiling. This mysterious figure dropped down in front of Riktor's desk and remained standing there, his back to the camera.

"He hasn't changed." Were the first words that the mysterious figure said, it could be taken as a disappointed statement, but his words where muffled by the mask he wore, as instead it was taken by Riktor as a light-hearted jest. Was this guy talking about BT or SVJ? Another mystery.

"Yeah, but that's not why you're here, is it?" Riktor said to the black clothed figure, pointedly.

"I'm here for Latrell," The figure replied quickly, nodding solemnly, "For what that thing you let loose in this place, did to him." Riktor quickly leaned forward in his seat, defensively.

"Now--" But was just as quickly cut off by this mysterious figure.

"No, that Legacy Championship is your title, you're in charge of it. You're responsible for who chases. And you've set this in motion, looking to introduce someone who would finally take The Destroyer off his game, but you also now have to deal with me, for the time being. I am the consequence of this Sixth Man's actions. When Latrell was attacked, he's family, and his sister Monet... I do believe you've even met Monet, she got a hold of me, and she asked me to come here. Find Latrell's attacker... for Latrell." The man in black crossed his arms.

"How do you think you're going to do that, though? If you haven't noticed, these attacks have been random."

"Seemingly..."

"No, they're random. I would have taken time out of running this show, if it weren�t for the fact that finding the Sixth Man seems, I don't know, seemingly impossible." Scott Riktor was now leaning forward on his desk, driving home his point. The man in black started to walk around Riktor's desk, towards Riktor. The camera stayed on his back, framing Riktor in front of him.

"And that's why I'll be everywhere I can be. Watching. Waiting. Do you realize I've already been to Underground? I've seen Phoenix Rose make a fool of himself in front of... Ulysis, is it? A dangerous looking guy. I've heard Trev Echo talked to a number of people. I was almost there when Rejection was attacked. Haven't gotten a chance to interrogate him yet, though. Your friends, Brute and Suits beat me to the scene." Scott was taken aback by that last statement.

"I'm looking for cracks, I'm looking for clues.

I am looking for the Sixth Man." Riktor took a step forward to the mysterious figure, as if to stop him and continue talking to him. The figure who seemed as tall as he was, brushed by him and walked to his chair, stepping on it and then from it, onto Riktor's desk. A few of the papers that Riktor had been looking at, rustled under the man in black's feet.

"I heard Graphic Violence has been at the shows, since the attacks started." The mysterious figure, turned his head, and looked at Riktor, as if to think about what he had just said. Without replying to that though, he raised his hand to the panels, about to return to the location he had come from in Riktor's office ceiling. Riktor halted him though, by asking a question that had seemingly been nagging at him.

"What's with the steel mask, anyway?"

A grunt of a laugh could be heard as sort of a reply. Then this concerned citizen, of sorts, gave more of a reply.

"It runs in the family..." then mysterious figure did something that caught even Riktor off guard.

He took the hood off of his head and crouched down on the desk, to look Scott Riktor eye-to-umm-eye. Riktor was now stairing into steel grated eyes that lay deep into a stainless steel skull of a mask. "The family of Nixon Samuel. The estranged father of Monet and Latrell... Samuel. Who had given himself the name NIXON... in the heat of the cold war, even as one of Che and Fidel's chosen Cuban social leaders, proving to be a bull of an anarchist, taking the name of Richard Nixon, Kennedy's reviled succesor." The stainless steel skulled man, the mysterious figure tilted his head quizzicly, almost amused by the last part of the story.

"He became the protector of this mask of the global citizen, the watcher of it's lineage. It's been many places, the face of many people, over the years. Unexpected people. People even know it as the face of an Asylum inmate, I here... but Nixon never wore it... because he didn't have the need to back then."

"Nixon?" Was the only word that escaped from the mouth of Scott Riktor, as he looked into the mask, seeing his reflection. And like that, he was gone again, into the underground of Violence. Where might he be next, that... wasn't exactly known, quite yet. Suffice to say, he'd be looking for the Sixth Man. Riktor plopped back down in his chair and rested his chin in his hands, deep in thought.

Would this all work in the end?

RELENTLESSLY SEEKING OPPONENTS: 2

Kevin Kassidy Kenwright had been wondering the halls of the Arena of Champions for some time. He�d already been turned down by Sylo, whose focus lay elsewhere, Max Hopper who was too busy formulating tag team strategies with his new partner, Tyke, and several other nobodies hardly worth mentioning. (Ninja K, �Superstar� Vince Jacobs and JCon. Like I say; hardly worth mentioning.)

KKK slumped on the floor next to a vending machine, his head cradled in his hands. How could nobody want to face him in a championship bout? His back began to drip with sweat, the pressure was on and he could feel it. If he let down his manager the repercussions would be dire at best. As he thought this a pair of deep red shoes clipped up the hallway, stopping at his feet. KKK looked up at his manager, immaculately dressed in his usual red suit, glass cane at his side.

�Whatup, dawg?� he chirped cheerfully.

�Nobody will take the shot.�

Rose�s face immediately dropped back to the low expression of earlier in the night.

�What? Why? It�s a FREE TITLE SHOT~!�

The confusion was shared by both men who simply stood (or sat, in KKK�s case.) and looked at one another. They stood for a few moments their minds hard at work until eventually another set of feet began to echo from behind Rose. Rose turned around to be faced with a former client. His first ever client, in fact.

Aran Thompson.

Boo.

�Aran!� Rose exclaimed, a look of glee returning to his face. �Boy o� boy o� boy, I�ve never been so glad to see someone in my life.�

Aran said nothing but tilted his head in the ever-so-familiar �what the fuck mother fucker?!� look that Rose had become accustomed to receiving over the years.

�Aran, how would you like to face my bestest ever client in a one on one match-up tonight?�

�Get bent.� Aran managed to muster before brushing past Rose and heading off down the hallway.

�Aran, it�s for the Relentless title.�

Had Aran been, say, a cute little bunny rabbit, his ears would have flickered, his nostrils would have expanded, his nose twitching. Of course, he is not, in fact, a bunny rabbit, but rather a well-built professional wrestler. And what do non-bunny-rabbit professional wrestlers say when offered a title shot of any kind (excluding half of the roster tonight who, evidently, are all completely retarded)?

�Ok, see you in the ring.� with a shrug. Aran paced down the hall in the direction that he was headed.

Rose, who had dropped to his knees and held his hands in a prayer position, was getting back to his feet and dusting off his knees, a goofy smile covering his face (again. His face is like a goofy rollercoaster of emotions tonight, isn�t it?)

�Oh Kevin! We did it, we did it!�

KKK, who had also got to his feet and was busy dusting his ass off (evidently the entire LoC backstage area is covered in dust.) jumped up and down like a giddy school girl. Rose followed suit and the two held one another, spinning around and jumping, yelping with delight.

Until they realised.

Oh shit, they just put the Relentless title on the line against Aran Thompson.

As �Good Times� by Finger Eleven blasted throughout the Arena of Champions, Wippit Guud strutted out from the backstage area and onto the entrance way stage. The fans popped decently for the Canadian aerial and gymnastic specialist as he soaked it in. Always with a grin across his face and a twinkle in his eye when the fans cheer for him, Wippit headed toward the ring, down the ramp, full of confidence.

He stopped every so often to boast to a fan at ringside as well as slapped hands that were outstretched to him. Guud jumped up on the apron and leapfrogged over the top rope with relative ease. As soon as he landed on his feet, Wippit Guud outstretched both arms outward at his sides with a big smile as he played to the fans.

But Wippit�s boasting and playing to the crowd was abruptly interrupted as �Stinkfist� by Tool played through the sound system in the Arena of Champions. The fans everywhere went ballistic as out walked The Prodigal Son of Wrestling himself; Ulysis Solian. He methodically walked onto the stage and down the ramp. His visage was concealed under his hood with loose strands of long, black hair escaping out of the sides of it.

Solian rolled into the ring and Wippit Guud ran at him unexpectedly, only to feign an attack. Ulysis had already sprung up to his feet and was met face to face with Guud. Wippit just flashed a huge smile right in the face of Ulysis, who was unmoved by the facial expression.

�Gotcha!� Guud said as he walked backwards away from Solian with a huge grin still glued to his face. Ulysis took off the hood from over his head as he stared at Wippit with pure, unadulterated intensity.


*DING DING DING*


The referee signaled for the bell at ringside to which it sounded loudly to indicate the start of the match.

�Come on, mute! Let�s see whatcha got!� exclaimed Wippit Guud with confidence. Ulysis Solian just stood silently across the ring, all the while staring at his opponent as he rubbed his taped-covered hands.

Both men began to circle one another, looking for the first opportunity to strike. Guud, the smaller and quicker of the two, tried to get the jump on Solian early on. Ulysis, who was quick and agile himself, avoided Wippit�s attack. Both men soon came to terms and locked up in the middle of the ring. Solian, the stronger of the two, powered Guud with ease as he locked him in a standing armbar. Wippit slapped his shoulder lightly a couple of times to dull the pain before he rolled forward, kicked up to his feet, cartwheeled with one hand, and with his arm finally released from Ulysis�s grasp, enziguried Solian to the mat.

Solian quickly shot up to his feet but was taken down again with a Mexican arm drag. Ever relentless, Ulysis was up to his feet once more only to be dropkicked with authority for his troubles. The fans applauded Guud�s series of brilliantly executed moves as he walked over to Solian and leaned over toward him.

�I�m just too quick for ya, Cyclops!� boasted Wippit Guud. He then walked backwards, away from Ulysis, as he flashed yet another cocky grin at him.

Solian, who seemed a bit upset and disgruntled, climbed up to his feet, focusing squarely on Guud. Both men locked horns once again, only this time, Wippit quickly slipped out, and with Solian�s right arm, locked him in a standing armbar of his own. As he held Ulysis�s arm taunt, Guud repeatedly kicked at the back of Solian�s leg with rapid-fire succession. Ulysis started to buckle, but timed one of Wippit�s kicks as he dropped down on the mat, kicked back up to his feet, dove forward and stood on one hand, and pushed off the mat. Just when Solian was about to land on his feet, he faked Guud out and swept his legs out from under him.

Ulysis Solian quickly got up, spun around, and drove a sharp elbow squarely into the chest of Wippit Guud. Ulysis shot up from that quick elbow drop, spun around again, and this time dropped a knee across Wippit�s head. He rolled forward after the impact as Guud held his head in pain. While Wippit was reeling, Solian casually slung back into a corner. He grabbed his tin cup that sat beside the ring post and took a sip from it. The fans, while this happened, now applauded Ulysis for his succession of moves.

Wippit Guud recovered quickly and just as he turned his attention toward Ulysis Solian, The Prodigal Son smirked as he took one final sip from his tin cup. Just when he was about to move the tin cup away from his lips, Ulysis had the tin cup smacked from his hands by Wippit in a show of total disrespect. Solian was not pleased.

As Ulysis Solian walked toward Wippit Guud, the man from Dildo, Newfoundland (yes, it is a real town) pushed The Prodigal Son as he berated him. No doubt this was Guud�s reaction for feeling upstaged by Solian. Ulysis, however, was unmoved by this display of disrespect on to be pushed again by Wippit. He then pointed a finger right at Ulysis�s face, who quickly swatted it away from him. Guud then slapped the taste out of Solian�s mouth as the fans gasped and then booed Wippit.

Solian, in reaction, pie faced Guud down to the mat. Wippit, however, sprung up to his feet and tackled Ulysis to the mat. He mounted Ulysis and began to rain down blows to his face. The referee was quickly over and reminded Wippit this was not the Underground and closed fists were not allowed in the match.

Wippit stopped his assault on Ulysis and pulled him up to his feet by his hair. Guud then proceeded to whip Solian to the ropes and on the return�


�sent Ulysis flying to the mat with a perfectly executed spinning headscissors takedown. Solian got up to his feet only to have his head impaled to the mat from a standing hurricanrana from Guud. Due to his short stature, Wippit was able to swing the hurricanrana around enough as he grabbed and locked both Solian�s legs in a pin�


One�


�only for Ulysis to kick out just at the two count. Wippit Guud brought Ulysis Solian up to his feet and put himself in a fireman�s carry position right across Solian�s shoulders. He then quickly flipped off and to his feet. As he flipped forward, Wippit grabbed Solian�s arm and executed a Mexican arm drag. Solian slid near the ropes and was soon sent right out between them from a running drop-down dropkick by Guud.

Ulysis Solian landed to the floor with a thud as Wippit Guud ran the opposite way towards the ropes. He shot off them, performed a handspring and, to everyone�s amazement, backflipped over the top rope and moonsaulted toward Ulysis. But The Prodigal Son evaded it quickly, only to be dropkicked on the knee by Guud as he landed on his feet from the moonsault attempt. As Ulysis was on all fours, Guud took a few steps back and then ran right at Solian. He planted a hard knee right to the side of Ulysis�s head as he collapsed right to the floor.

Guud was just about to take a chair to the back of Solian after he grabbed one from one of the fans at ringside when the referee snatched it from out of his hands from behind. The referee explained he wanted a clean match and that no weapons were allowed. Guud wasn�t too disappointed and just shrugged it off with a flashy smile. �I was just kidding!� Guud said to the referee right before he kicked Solian in the ribs. The referee then began the right out count as Guud climbed up on the apron. He bounced off the ropes and hit an Asai moonsault right across the back of Ulysis Solian. The referee was up to five when Guud grabbed a lock of Solian�s hair, lifted him up from the ground, and threw him into the ring from underneath the bottom rope.

Wippit Guud got up on the apron once more as he springboarded off the top rope and hit a beautiful twisting legdrop across the head and face of Ulysis Solian. Still in the legdrop position, Wippit made the non-chalant cover�


One�


Two�


�but Solian kicked out just after the two count. Wippit started show some slight frustration across his face but quickly turned it into a smile. He lifted The Prodigal Son up to his feet and whipped him into the corner. Guud looked toward the fans and pointed to Solian as he yelled, �Watch this!�. Guud, starting from the opposite corner across from Ulysis, performed a running cartwheel followed by a couple of back handsprings, twisted forward toward Ulysis as he splashed him in the corner�


�but no! Instead, Solian caught Guud in his waiting arms, bearhugged him, planted his left foot on the mat, spun around, and connected with a perfectly executed spinning belly-to-belly suplex. Guud slowly got up to his feet, but was soon locked in a front headlock, only to be lifted up high in a vertical suplex�


�and dropped right back down hard to the canvas with a gordbuster by Ulysis Solian. Upon impact, Guud bounced off the mat and spun around on his back. Solian then quickly ran to the ropes, bounced off the middle rope, and hit a moonsault. As he connected, The Prodigal Son made the academic pin�


One�


�only for Wippit Guud to kick out right before the two count. Both men were up and Guud quickly ran right at Solian. Ulysis, with quick reflexes, took Wippit down with a drop-toe hold. He then shot forward and locked Guud�s head in his right arm as both men made it up to their feet. With a standing headlock applied, Solian spun around to Guud�s back, lifted him up in a Torture Rack, as the fans cheered loudly knowing what Ulysis was going for next�


�but were somewhat disappointed as Wippit Guud flipped off Ulysis Solian�s shoulders, escaping the Burning Hammer attempt. But as he landed on his feet, Guud was driven right down to the mat with a brutal left roundhouse kick by Solian. Then, in one swift and fluid motion, Ulysis picked Wippit up and executed a Suicidedriver. He literally almost impaled Guud�s head through the ring on impact as the fans were in awe before they cheered loudly. The Prodigal Son made the pin attempt�


One�


Two�


�but Guud managed to lift the shoulder up after two. Ulysis Solian lifted Wippit Guud up to his feet and proceeded to whip him into the corner. Rather than making a running attempt at Guud, Solian instead calmly walked over to him. Then, as Guud was slowly coming to�


�WHOOOOO!�


The fans response to the stiff chop came a second right after the sound of Solian�s hand met with Guud�s chest. Wippit clutched his chest but Ulysis didn�t allow him to recover as he pushed his arms aside�


�WHOOOOO!�


�and turned Wippit Guud�s chest beet red from the blatantly stiff chop performed by Ulysis Solian. But Guud was able to recover this time and with a fire that burned deep within his soul, Wippit threw a series of lefts and rights at Ulysis. He stunned The Prodigal Son enough to toss him into the corner�


�WHOOOOO!�


�WHOOOOO!�


�WHOOOOO!�


�WHOOOOO!�


�and let out a rapid-fire series of stiff chops to the chest of Ulysis Solian. But as Guud was about to continue with his barrage of knife-edge chops, Solian headbutted him right in the face. Wippit shouted some obscenity as he clutched his face and as Ulysis stormed right at him�


�Guud kicked him right in the stomach and took Solian down with a swinging neckbreaker. As Wippit was up to his feet, he played to the crowd asking if he should head up top. The fans cheered positively in response and that was good enough for Guud to perform yet another high-risk maneuver.

Wippit Guud ascended the top rope with ease as Ulysis Solian laid on the mat a bit groggy. Guud stalled for a few seconds on the top rope as he played to the crowd. Then he launched off�


�and in a most amazing display of athleticism, Ulysis kicked up to his feet and in one fluid motion caught Wippit as he was coming down and powerslammed him to the canvas! The fans were in sheer amazement as Solian was able to counter Guud�s high-risk maneuver. Ulysis went into a pinfall attempt from the powerslam�


One�


Two�


�and Wippit Guud kicked out just before the three! Ulysis Solian brought Guud up to his feet and whipped him into the ropes. On the return, Ulysis did a split as Wippit leapfrogged over him. Guud hit the opposite ropes, bounced off them, and as he headed toward Solian�


�Ulysis bent forward for a back body drop�


�only for Guud to flip off of Solian�s back! Once he landed on his feet, Wippit waited for Ulysis to turn around before he jumped up�


Wipsmack!


�but Ulysis Solian was able to sidestep the Wipsmack, Wippit Guud�s signature handspring backflip kick! Amazingly enough, Guud was able to land perfectly on his feet�


Enforcer DDT!


�only to end up kissing the canvas as he was planted hard straight into the canvas with an Enforcer DDT by Solian! Ulysis made the cover once more on Wippit as he hooked the leg�


One�


Two�


�but not three as the fans awed when Wippit raised his arm up off the mat. Solian grabbed Guud by the head and lifted him up to his feet before he hoisted him up high in the air in a gorilla press. Then, in one fluid motion, Ulysis dropped Wippit on his shoulder�


�and nailed a gorilla press Suicidedriver as the fans were impressed. The Prodigal Son made the academic cover�


One�


Two�


�and somehow Wippit Guud kicked out! Solian looked a bit frustrated but continued with his assault as he laid in a few kicks to the head of Guud. He then picked up the cruiserweight and whipped him hard into the corner. Ulysis walked to the opposite corner and with a running start, performed a handspring, followed by a backflip�


�but Wippit was able to duck underneath the handspring enziguri by Ulysis! However, The Prodigal Son, as he missed, managed to land on his feet on the apron�


�only to get a slingshot enziguri for his troubles by Wippit Guud. Solian spilled to the outside only after the back of his head crashed on the apron. The fans were in shock as the impact was pretty damn brutal. With Ulysis flat on his back on the outside, Wippit ran to the corner nearest him, jumped up to the top rope�


�and connected with a beautifully executed shooting star senton! The fans were definitely impressed by Wippit Guud�s sheer athleticism as Ulysis Solian was now in even more pain than before. Guud played to the crowd once again as Solian slowly rose on all fours. He was then promptly sent back down as Wippit nailed Ulysis in the back of the head with a twisting elbow. Guud finally brought the match back into the ring as the referee counted to seven.

Solian, laid in the ring, was soon going to feel a world full of hurt as Guud took to the top once more, as he jumped off�


Schitzoplex!


�and contorted his small frame in the air like the true gymnast he is as Wippit Guud hit his trademark reverse one and a half twisting senton known as the Schitzoplex! Guud jumped up to his feet and celebrated as if he won the match only to fall down on top of Solian and made the cover�


One�


Two�


Th�


�No! Ulysis Solian kicked out as the fans cheered loudly. Wippit Guud could not believe it that The Prodigal Son was able to get his shoulder up just at the very last nanosecond! As he shook his head in disbelief, Guud brought Solian up to his feet and whipped him into the ropes. But Ulysis was able to reverse the Irish whip attempt by Wippit with one of his own as he sent the cruiserweight into the ropes. On the return, Ulysis lifted Wippit up�


Enforcer Spinebuster!


�but Guud was able to slip out of it as just when Solian turned around to face him, he was kicked right in the mid-section�


Wipsmack!


�and finally ate the Wipsmack as Wippit Guud connected right across Ulysis Solian�s chin! Guud started to boast and brag as he exclaimed, �It�s over now!�. He hooked Solian�s leg as the referee started the three count once more�


One�


Two�


Th�


�but the referee did not slap the canvas for a third time as Ulysis Solian just barely lifted his shoulder! Wippit Guud argued with the referee as he felt it was a three count, but was not getting anywhere with the official. The referee stuck with the two count and Guud was now very upset and very frustrated.


Then, Wippit Guud remembered how Jonathan Conspiracy had won against Ulysis Solian and figured that maybe that was the only way he was going to put The Prodigal Son away. The cruiserweight rolled out of the ring and pulled a chair from underneath the ring announcer. He headed back in when the referee tried to stop Guud from using the foreign object.


Soon a tug-o-war ensued with the steel chair being the rope that both the referee and Wippit Guud were pulling on. Guud then grew tired of this bickering and let the referee have the chair, who fell right on his keister, to which got plenty of laughs from the fans inside the Arena of Champions.


Wippit Guud had a hearty chuckle from the scene, only to not notice Ulysis Solian coming from behind as he reached for him�


�and was quickly evaded as Guud hit a standing headspring, somersaulted over Solian�


Wiplash!


�but was caught on the way down as Wippit was mounted on Ulysis�s shoulders in a Torture Rack position�


Burning Hammer!


�but even that finisher attempt by Ulysis Solian was all for naught as Wippit Guud flipped out of it and to his feet. Guud then grabbed Solian from behind�


�only for Ulysis to reverse it with a hold from behind as he lifted Wippit up and back�


�into a German suplex with a laxed bridge, as both Solian�s and Guud�s shoulders were pinned to the mat! The referee quickly fell down next to both combatants as he made the count with the fans in attendance counting along�


One�


Two�


*DING DING DING*


Wippit Guud shot up to his feet and rejoiced in celebration as he knew victory was his. But the referee moved to the ring announce on the outside as the two discussed the outcome of the match. They both nodded to each other as the ring announcer got on the microphone.

�The referee has informed me that this match�.has ended in a time-limit draw!�

The fans were both confused and yet, a bit disappointed, as neither man who had given it their all in this match did not win. Ulysis Solian paced back and forth in the ring with his hands on his hips as Wippit Guud was seriously pissed off. He stormed right to the steel chair that laid near the corner in the ring, picked it up�


�but soon saw Jonathan Conspiracy, Mr. One Letter Better, slide into the ring with a steel chair in tow. JCon ran right at Guud as he swung right for the cruiserweight�s head�


�but missed completely as Wippit ducked underneath.


*DING DING DING!*


The bell ran loud and clear as Wippit Guud attempted a chair shot at Jonathan Conspiracy�


�only to whiff in the air. Ulysis Solian finally got involved as he pushed both individuals to opposite sides of the ring. Jonathan Conspiracy and Wippit Guud glanced at each other and finally came to an agreement for the very first time as they both ran right The Prodigal Son�


*CLANG*


�and ended up colliding with one another as Solian rolled out of the way. Ulysis then left the ring as both JCon and Wippit were down on the mat, stunned by their hard collusion. Apparently Solian�s attention lied elsewhere as the war between Jonathan Conspiracy and Wippit Guud just kicked it up a notch.

COMING SOON

A feint, visible glow emanates from the shadows.

Small, but still noticeable to the human eye.

The sound of heavy footsteps breaks the silence of the room as the glow shines brighter.

The flicker of the light goes even faster and�

Like that, the source of the flash becomes one with the wall. Then, for a time, no sound is heard. One motion can finally be made out as it uses its hand to reach to the source of the glow, ripping it from the plaster before flicking it back into its pocket.

�He�s been around the world, perfecting his craft.�

Once more, the object -- a small pocketknife � is wielded by the individual. A small blue hue gradually materializes and more features of the mysterious figure, now a man, can be seen.

�Trained in numerous styles to ready himself against men and women from all walks of life.�

The figure takes the knife and let it fly over his head before impressively catching it by the hilt behind his back without a hesitant or worried glance.

�Respect is a gift that shall not be forcefully taken. It can only be earned.

With one more gesture, the large figure continues to flick the knife through the air. A remarkable lightshow is created with the glimmer of the knife flailing about wildly. The figure continues to display nothing less than absolute confidence as time passes slowly.

�And with my help, the world will know this: He�s not The Next Big Thing.

He�s not the future of this business.

He is NOW.�

At last, the knife stops being tossed around. Tucking it away in his back pocket, the mysterious individual stands still. Nothing seems to penetrate his ice-cold demeanor. The appearance suggests that he is indeed ready for the unpredictable terrain that is the Legacy of Champions.

LEE LENNOX

COMING SOON.

NO LOVE FOR VHS

Jeff Garvin jogged around the Arena of Champions for fifteen minutes upon arrival and a quick shower, a vintage navy blue 101 hoodie adorning his upper body, a pair of sweatpants to match. He wore one of those things on his wrist to monitor heart rate and the total number of paces in a person's run.

He came to a halt in the center of a vacant hallway, turned to face a door, and wouldn't ya know it, it was reefed by a giant gold star with his name in it. Garvin smiled. His dressing room... his own private dressing room. Prima donna? Maybe -- but atleast it was quiet.

Garvin gripped the handle, twisted, pulled � "What the--?" he exclaimed, standing in the empty frame of the now-wide open door. He immediately grumbled. "Kayden." That little bastard was everywhere!

Kayden was on the floor with about a million (okay, fifty-ish) tapes scattered all around him. Garvin bent down and picked one up, reading the label aloud, "Garvin versus Youngblood, Jolt.

"What the fuck is this, Kayden?"

Kayden turned his head and smiled up at 'the Original'. "This is your legacy, pal! Tapes of your greatest matches! Though, to be honest, they're all great! You're so talented!"

"...These are all tapes of matches I lost," Garvin deadpanned as he chucked the tape aside.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, that's quite the coincidence! I contacted Coral Avalon -- since, y'know, you two have wrestled each other sooo many times -- and I asked him what he thought your greatest matches were... strange that he'd choose matches you lost." Kayden chuckled. Coral obviously took the opportunity to mess with his old nemesis via Kayden's niavity.

Garvin was fuming. Just the mere mention of Coral's name caused him to see a red mist. He wanted to tear Kayden limb from limb... but he throttled his temper and calmed his nerves, somehow managing to keep his cool and not get himself fined ten-grand (was that the going rate these days?) for beating the piss out of the passive aggressive douchebag sitting cross-legged before him.

"Kayden," Jeff said, while hunkering down, "get out of my dressing room before I shove every last one of these tapes up your--"

Kayden, not paying him any attention, swiped a VHS off the floor and held it high in the air as if it were the Holy Grail. "Yes! Dude, I was just about to throw this puppy in and give it another viewing... wanna maybe stick around and like, talk me through it? It'll be like a feature commentary... only you'll be sitting right next to me! Sweet!"

Garvin scowled. "Where did you find all of these?"

"E-Bay! E-Bay's awesome!"

Garvin's anger sort of trailed off for a second, allowing him to relate his own feelings on E-Bay -- the wonderful little hub of consumerism, "That it is, that. it. is. Heck, I saved AT LEAST two hundred dollars on wrist tape last year alone buying it in bulk on E-Bay..."

Snapping back to reality, 'the Tennessee Technician' shook the proverbial cobwebs and reset the forehead-wrinkling scowl upon his profile. "...What the fuck am I talking about?" Garvin asked in disbelief. "Fuck E-Bay, I'm pissed! I'm pissed at YOU." This was Jeff's way of reassuring his brain that it was still "act like a dickhead" time. Can't be slippin', y'know.

"Stop foolin', Jeffster, and grab a seat � I'll locate the VCR remote!

"Last I saw of it, it was residing sooomewhere in the--" Kayden reached between the couch cushins, his tongue stuck out and twisted like a Twizzler near the corner of his mouth -- because he's such an animated character, that Kayden Paulton! Retracting his arm, he produced the VCR remote. He returned to his spot in front of the TV, amidst the rolling hills of VHS tapes that enveloped his body, and slid the tape into the VCR slot.

"These tapes should have been thrown into an incinerator and their resulting ashes buried YEARS AGO!" Garvin lightly kicked one of the tapes laying by his feet. Garvin gestured with his hand, and said, "OK, gimme the tape." Somewhat calm, devoid of anger.

Kayden shook his head, and replied, "Dude, I'm just trying to learn from the best!"

"I'LL STOMP YOUR FUCKING GUTS IN!" Full of anger... and rage... and malevolence. Ah, the Jeff Garvin we all know and despise.

"Chiiiiilll! I was just about to pop in your Juggernaut II match with Avalon... the one where he rolled you up for the three-count as you struggled to apply the Hammer Jammer," Kayden said, the latter part of that sentence spoken in such a way that it was careful not to push Jeff's buttons.

However, "Avalon", "struggled", and "three-count (when it results in a loss for him)" struck a nerve. Garvin's eyes widened, his mouth became dry with rage, he clawed at his scalp with one hand, yanking at a tuft of hair.

"THAT'S IT! I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT! DIE, SCUM!"

Garvin morphed into a child's worst nightmare -- an automated stomping machine. Yes, that's what kids dread. They're so small, how could they not be fearful of an automated stomping machine? Anyway, Garvin absolutely flew off the handle. He was pissing rage from every orifice, every pore... a momentary loss of sanity, perhaps, fueling his assault on the mountain of plastic that surrounded Kayden Paulton.

GARVIN STOMP.

STOMP.

"I!"

STOMP.

"DON'T!"

STOMP.

"NEED!"

STOMP.

"THIS!"

STOMP.

"SHIT!"

STOMP.

"OK!?"

Inhale, exhale, repeat.

Garvin fed air to hungry lungs as he geared up for the grand finale of stomps.

STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMPYOUTAPEMOTHERFUCKER~!

Little bits of plastic flew in every direction, as Jeff Garvin stomped tape after tape, with Kayden Paulton looking on in horror.

" Jeff, your legaaaaacy! Noooooooooooo." He reached to salvage the last one -- the shadow created by Jeff Garvin's foot looming overhead � but it was too late.

Cruuuuunch.

Garvin grinded his heel into the shattered mess of plastic that once held a visual account of his shortcomings. He panted and scratched the back of his neck. There was a looong awkward silence in the room. So much destruction. Like the last two remaining victims of a war being waged all around them, Jeff and Kayden exchanged a glance.

Kayden, without speech.

Jeff stared at him for a second, realizing that he may have lost his cool. But this was Jeff Garvin we're talking about, so he's not going to admit that! "DVD -- look into it." Garvin turned and walked back out the door... despite the fact that it was his dressing room they'd both been standing in (well, Jeff was standing, Kayden was sitting, but that's really not important here).

Kayden's eyes scanned the floor.

He could have gotten upset.

He could have gotten angry.

But instead he remained as calm as a Hindu cow, showing no sign of emotion for the first ten-or-fifteen seconds after Jeff had stormed off. Then... he smiled. He knew what he had to do.

He wanted a wrestling lesson? He wanted to learn from the best? It was time to get some hands-on experience.

SHOT IN THE DARK

Ryan Billows stretched out his aching back, because although nothing crazy physical happened during the opener, just the fact that he was the kind of balls to the wall technical wrestler that he was... meant that he consistently had his share of aches and pains. Billows winked at Dawn Cassidy as she walked past him, and as she raised her mic at him to start asking questions, he put his index finger up to her lips.

"Aaaaa-no." Good times. He grinned to himself, as he backed into his locker room door, grabbed the handle, swung the door open, stepping it and closing the door with his foot. Billows swung his arm over to turn on the lights.

CLICK.

Except the lights weren�t turning on.

Billows flipped the switch to the lights, on and off, again. Still nothing. So Billows quickly made his way to the bathroom, halfway there he could hear something crunching under his feet. Little did he know that these where the broken pieces of the rightful. He didn't much care, he was just looking to turn the lights on. The Young Lion flipped the bathroom light switch... and still nothing.

"The bathroom light too?" There was an annoyed and perplexed tone in his voice. Then nothing but silence in the dark. Nothing but a voice.

"What do you know about the Sixth Man?"

A ruckus could be heard as Billow's rushed back into the main part of the locker room, stumbled over a few things, and then settled himself. A few seconds passed, before Billow asked the darkness a little something.

"...is somebody there? Am I losing it? Oh God...BT's shit must have been laced...Oh God...."

A roll of blue tape, which had been in the top shelf of his locker, bounced off the back of his head.

"How about answering the question."

Billows took a few steps forward, and drifted his hand in front of him so if he was about to hit something, he'd know where it was.

"I should have stuck with Dawn Cassidy," Billows paused, "I don't know anything about the sixth man. Scott's been keeping it to himself, and I kind of realized I really don't care who it is. They won't stop me from reaching the gold...that's all I know. Now how about me asking you a question...what do you have against...LIGHT?!"

"The darkness keeps things civil, keeps you from assuming to much. Like maybe I'm the Sixth Man, and I've come to attack you. Though he seems to be keeping away from the contenders, no? It also keeps things as easy as possible for me... so when I'm gone, it's like I was never even here. Otherwise I don't have anything against light, no." There were another few seconds of silence.

"Now I get to ask another question. Why do you need the gold so badly?"

"What kind of question is that? I'm a wrestler. This is my sport. This is my home. My profession. When you're a competitor in any competitive sport...the trophy is always the main objective. Especially if you're a headstrong rookie who is hell-bent on stuffing a sock in the collective mouth of the nay-sayers. Catch my drift?" Although it was dark you could hear the smirk in Billow's voice.

"I catch. So what would you be willing to do, to get that gold... being so hell bent, and all." The man in black, the voice in the darkness, was obviously playing towards the obvious question. Was Ryan Billow's secretly the Sixth Man? No one would suspect one of the Legacy contenders, themselves.

"I would do anything it took...anything, that is, within the confines of the squared circle. But nice tryyyy, private eyeee." A soft rasping chuckle could be heard coming from the dark, a reaction to Billow's off hand response, even in this situation.

"Who's dangerous enough to be The Sixth Man then?" The voice in the darkness was checking out not only Billow's thoughts on the matter, but also who he saw as a threat or at least this much of a wildcard. "If you aren't, who is? In your opinion."

"Heh...dangerous enough? Have you looked at some of the guys around here? Chavez, he's always an option to consider when there's mystery attacks going on. SVJ? His greed has seen him do much worse. Gee, Jeff Garvin sure has seemed pretty bitter lately. For all I know, we could all just be falling into one of Sylo's cute little mind-games. I don't know, man, and I told you--I don't care."

"You could be facing this man, come No Turning Back. You will be facing this man, come Revelations. For all you know, he could be coming after you next, in this sick countdown. Shouldn't you care?" The voice was quick to reply to Billow's relaxed demeanour so far.

"Lis--" The voice quickly cut Billow's off though, before he could answer again. Putting on his shoulder left shoulder, somehow he had gotten behind LoC's Sensation.

"Or are you to busy caring about your in-ring reputation? How do you feel about the rumblings amongst the fans that you're nothing more than a glorified spot-monkey?" The hand left Billow's shoulder, and maybe it was meant to calm Billows with the latest question... like he was trying to get his goat. But you know, it sure felt like it for Billows.

He was tired of all these questions, anyway.

Billows fists tightened and he spun around, with a tight and powerful right hook.

And hit nothing but air.

He could feel a hand wrap itself around his swinging right hand, and pull his body in. Then all he could see was a starburst in the blackness as his head connected with... steel.

Headbutt?

Billow's vision was fuzzy, and his general senses where hazy for a few seconds. When he finally recovered his bearings he found himself on one knee, a small shiner at his hairline. Nothing overly visible. And he could see some light now too.

It was the light from the hall. Ryan Billow's locker room door was wide open.

And no one was in the room, but him.

"Wish I would have known Dick Tracy was going to be here tonight. Would have had Madonna put in a good word for me..."

Last week on Violence Adam Lazarus had a chance of a lifetime to take the Legacy Title off of "The Superbeast" Sylo in a lumberjack match� That chance was stolen from him by the debuting Alan Helms, who jumped ship coming over from nbW, when Helms struck Laz with a steel chair. The chairshot gave Laz a DQ victory over Sylo, but it didn�t give him the one thing he dreamt of� The Legacy Championship.

Tonight was vengeance time for Adam Lazarus.

After hearing Alan�s little tirade earlier in the night, Laz (who wasn�t even expected in the building after receiving a concussion from the chairshot) stepped out from behind the curtain to throw out a challenge to Helms, giving himself the opportunity for revenge, and giving Helms the opportunity to show his stuff in his first LoC match.

But things didn�t go exactly how Laz may have expected.

The Faction emerged from behind the curtain and delivered a surprise attack to the defenseless Laz. One has to wonder what Helms ties with The Faction are�

And that brought us to this matchup� Alan Helms vs. Adam Lazarus. Surely Laz was at a large disadvantage because he had already fallen victim to one attack earlier, but would he be able to overcome those odds?

We were about to find out...

Stone Angel hits throughout the arena for the second time tonight as Alan Helms appears through the curtain to the same pyro that he debuted earlier in the night.

Raining blue sparks hit the stage while Helms struck his pose, arms in an �X� in front of his chest. He then broke the pose as more pyro rocketed from the rampway and walked down the ramp like some kind of cocky kid who was trying to make a good impression. He didn�t seem worried one bit about his match as he spotted a big-busted lady in the second row, to whom he slowed his pace down just to get a good look of her chest.

Helms entered the ring, brushing his feet off in the apron and again struck his pose. He looked annoyed, curling his lip, as his theme music was replaced by his competitor�s.

�Praise� by Sevendust was the music replacing �Stone Angel� and the crowd couldn�t wait to see Laz kick this cocky punk�s ass� And from the looks of it, neither could Laz.

Laz dashed down to the ring, looking like he was all business. He slid into the ring headfirst under the bottom rope, sliding on his stomach, and Helms backed away immediately. He ducked his head and shoulders through the ropes as if to protect himself from an early attack. The referee stepped in the middle, trying to maintain order before the bell, and Helms returned his entire body into the ring.

Helms and Laz squared off and the ref signaled for the bell, getting the match under way.

Helms started off by taunting, and Laz looked to capitalize. Laz lunged in for a lockup but Helms backed away and ran his hands through his hair.

�It�s not going to be that easy, bud.� Helms jaunted as he circled the ring. Lazarus mirrored him and then the two men met in the middle of the ring with a lock up.

They jockeyed for position and Helms got underneath for some leverage which he was able to use to back Laz into the corner. Helms snuck in an eye gouge forcing the referee to step in for the break�

The fans booed as Helms backed away saying �WHAT!?� as if he hadn�t done anything. Lazarus stared at Helms spitefully, knowing that he was going to be a dirty player throughout the match.

Laz collected himself, but as he brought himself out of the corner Helms swooped in for a headlock takedown, bringing Laz to the mat� Only it wouldn't last...

Laz was able to stand up into the hold and reverse it, getting Helms into a hammerlock. Laz brought Helms arm out and yanked, sending him crashing to the mat temporarily, but Helms was quick up to his feet as he bridge-kicked up and slapped the taste right out of Laz�s mouth.

Helms backed away again and laughed as Laz turned his head slightly and brought his hand up to his mouth, squeezing his lips to get the feeling back. Then out of nowhere he went on a bursting attack as he nailed Helms with a flurry of hard punches until he was able to Irish whip Helms across the ring to the opposite set of ropes.

A nice back body drop by Laz and the crowd gave a nice cheer as he tried to gain the early advantage.

Laz wasn�t about to let the crowd�s approval distract him though, as he hunched over in a ready position, waiting for Helms to get back up.

Helms was to his feet when Laz decided to try his luck with the Irish whip once again, but Helms reversed the momentum sending Laz off the ropes instead. Laz was quick to react and came off the rope delivering a head-scissors takedown, maintaining the advantage in the match.

All Helms could do was use the ropes to stumble into the corner.

Alan Helms rested in the corner for a moment, flicking his hair back until his eyes widened at the sight of Laz charging at him. Helms had a quick reaction of his own as he pulled the ref directly in front of him, hugging the ref from behind and forcing Laz to put the brakes on.

The referee shriveled in fear, awaiting the impact of Laz�s body, but much to his surprise, Laz was able to pull up just short of splashing into him.

Obviously Helms was quite pleased with himself, but not for long because Laz pulled the ref off him and delivered two kicks to his midsection, setting him up for yet another ride to the ropes.

This time, Laz wasn�t able to quite get the force he had used in sending Helms before, and Alan was able to grab hold of the ropes he was being sent to, stopping the momentum. He then used the ropes to his own advantage as he hit a springboard elbow which connected to Laz�s face and put him down on the canvas.

A quick glance towards the crowd by Helms brought a hostile reaction, and then he picked Laz up by his shiny bald head.

Helms set Laz up where he wanted him and went off the ropes, Laz hit the mat to avoid Helms maneuver, but Helms simply hopped over him and continued to the opposite ropes. Laz thought he would catch Helms with a monkey flip, but Helms hooked the arm and swept Laz�s feet out from underneath him and goes for the quick pin�

One�

Tw� Kickout.

Helms wasn't going to get the early pin there.

Laz up to his knees as the two squared up again. They locked up, testing each others strength and then Lazarus snatched an arm lock and bridged over for some extra leverage. Laz needed to be careful because he was in a risky position where Helms may have been able to counter with a submission of his own, and so he wisely dropped the hold and got to his feet quickly. Helms creeped his way up onto his feet.

Lazarus advanced towards Helms with his arms up looking to connect with a double axle, but Helms dropped to one knee and drove his forearm into the gut of Laz. Helms grabbed the wrist of Lazarus who was hunched over and spun him into a lateral wristlock. Helms pulled up forcing Lazarus to stay hunched over. The position was held...

When Laz regained his strength he threw a forearm to the face of Helms and applied his own behind the back wristlock to the Helms freehand.

Out of desperation Helms threw an elbow to the stomach of Laz and quickly applied a headlock. The elbow did not effect Laz as much as Helms would have wished as Laz forced Helms to bounce off the ropes where Lazarus connected with a front dropkick.

Both men hopped to their feet quickly and Helms charged at Laz who reversed the attempt with a drop toe hold. Laz moved over and applied a front facelock to Helms who was on all fours.

Helms made his way to his feet despite the front facelock still being applied and then recognized his position in the ring and put all of his weight and strength into forcing Lazarus into the corner turnbuckle.

When Lazarus broke the lock Helms followed up with 2 more shoulder thrusts into the midsection. Helms with the advantage then whipped Lazarus across the ring and into the opposite turnbuckle.

Helms charged at Lazarus who had just enough time to dip his shoulder. Lazarus lifted Helms up and threw him behind himself but Helms grabbed onto the top rope and landed on the apron.

Lazarus turned to look to the outside and Helms perfectly timed a poke to the eyes as soon as Lazarus turned his head. Laz stumbled back and Helms grabbed a quick breath then used the top rope as a slingshot to catapult him into the air. He latched Lazarus� head under his armpit and drive it to the mat with a wicked DDT. Helms made another quick cover.

One..

Two and a half!

Helms argued with the ref about the pacing of his counts, by the time he finished bickering Lazarus had made his way to his feet.

Laz threw 2 hard rabbit punches then dropkicked Helms� right leg out from underneath him. While Helms was stuck down on one knee Lazarus bounced off the ropes and planted both feet in the face of Helms. Laz with a cover of his own.

One�

Two.. kick out!

Lazarus grabbed Helms by the head and brought him up to his feet, but Helms countered this with a forearm to the gut.

Helms followed up by draping the arm of Lazarus around his own neck and lifted Laz up backwards into a suplex. Helms got back up to his feet and grabbed the legs of Laz looking to apply maybe a Boston crab, but took too long and Laz pushed Helms off and quickly got up to his feet.

Both men wasted no time and walked right up to eachother but neither attempted anything. Instead they spit words at eachother! An art which Helms preferred!

Somehow Helms must have run out of things to say, or else he was just being a bitch and he quickly slapped Lazarus across the face like before. Laz put his hands up to his face and bent away in shock but then came right back with a punch.

When Helms tried to fire back with a punch of his own, Lazarus ducked underneath it, wrapped his arms around the neck of Helms and dropped -- nearly tearing Helms head off with a vicious neckbreaker. Another cover by Laz�

One�

Two�

Thr..

That was a count of two and three-fourths!

Lazarus was disappointed that his neckbreaker didn�t put Helms away as he rested on his knees and caught his breath. Helms was clearly shaken by the neckbreaker as he was trying to jar the stars out of his head.

Lazarus caught Helms as he was getting up by shoving his forearm underneath his chin and applied a front facelock. Both men were idle for a couple seconds until Helms started making his way to his feet. When Helms finally was on his feet he hunched over and lifted Lazarus up onto his back.

Laz countered it by rolling through Helms� legs into a sunset flip.

One� quick kick out.

Lazarus jumped right to his feet, a little too close to Helms who swept them out from underneath him and then jumped over and got Laz in a front face headlock and began pummeling away on his face.

The referee ordered Helms to stop throwing closed fists, so Helms turned to the ref and draped his leg across the throat of Lazarus and choked him, all the while distracting the ref by feeding him some garbage.

Helms finally got up to his feet and flipped his hair back and smiled to the crowd who hated him. Lazarus laid on the mat holding at his throat in pain.

Alan picked Lazarus up by the head and scoop slammed him to the mat. Helms then bounced off the ropes and dropped a knee across the face of Laz.

Helms was now eating up the heat from the crowd who despised him. Just to rub in some more, Helms did the same exact thing again. Lazarus flopped in the ring a couple times and Helms used this time to shout at the crowd.

Helms turned his focus back towards Lazarus and picked him up once again and threw a European uppercut to his chin. Laz turned and felt the pain of the strike and Helms bounced off the ropes and timed a clothesline perfectly as Lazarus was turning back to face him. Helms made a cover�

One�

Helms jumped out of his own cover after the one count and smiled. He pulled Laz up to his feet, this time by his long beard!

He stood him up straight in the center of the ring. Helms then bounced off the ropes and came in with a clothesline, but Lazarus ducked underneath and then nailed Helms with a spinning heel kick on the rebound! Both men laid winded on the mat as the ref began to count.

One..

Two..

Three..

Helms began rolling around.

Four..

Five..

Lazarus had made his way to grabbing the second rope.

Six..

Lazarus began pulling himself up.

Seven..

Helms was now on his feet, followed shortly after by Lazarus who had pulled himself up using the ropes. Helms charged at Laz who ducked down and lifted, catapulting Helms to the outside! Helms crashed on the mats and rolled in pain. Lazarus rested, holding himself up by using the top rope. The referee began counting on Helms.

One�

Two�

Three�

Four�

Helms began climbing his way to his feet.

Five�

SLINGSHOT CROSSBODY ONTO HELMS! The crowd popped huge as Lazarus had used all his strength to fling himself high into the air and come crashing down onto a hurt Alan Helms. Both men wreathed with pain on the outside. Lazarus was favoring his shoulder that he had crashed down onto the mat with and Helms was trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him.

The referee was now counting for both Helms and Lazarus to get back in the ring.

One�

Two�

Three�

Four�

Five� Lazarus finally started to show some movement. Helms was still motionless, catching his breath.

Six�

Seven�

Eight� Lazarus finally rolled into the ring and rested in the corner.

Nine�

Right before the referee could make the ten count, Helms rolled back into the ring.

When Helms got to his feet in the ring, Lazarus came at him and threw a punch to the face of Helms, who retaliated with his own punch. They exchanged punches because neither had enough energy to block the other, until finally Lazarus hit another spinning heel kick out of desperation.

Lazarus sprung up and climbed out onto the apron and was nearing the corner turnbuckle. Laz climbed to the top, but Helms caught him and knocked his legs out underneath him. Lazarus went crashing down on his crotch onto the turnbuckle!

The entire crowd felt the pain of that one... And it was heard by their expression!

Helms then stepped out onto the apron. He yelled to the crowd then slingshot himself onto the top rope where he balanced himself for a second to grab Laz�s head, then pulled both them down crashing to the mat with a super bulldog. Helms made the cover�

One�

Two�

A close three, but it wasn�t enough to put Laz away.

Helms blew his cool and immediately approached the referee with a malevolent look in his eye. The ref backed away from a very pissed off Alan Helms, until he could go no longer. Helms had backed the ref right into the corner with a finger to the chest� Poking and swearing up a storm.

Helms turned around to return his attention to Laz, but Laz was already in the air and connected with a Stinger splash just as the referee ducked underneath Alan�s left arm and out of harms way. Alan�s body was pressed up against the turnbuckles and Laz whipped him across to the opposite side.

Again Laz charged diving through the air, only this time Alan was able to move in time and Laz went face first over the top rope to the outside. The crowd near the front row was all on their feet, getting a close look at Laz who was rolling around in pain.

Meanwhile, in the ring, Alan Helms was pointing at his noggin as if he were some kind of genius� Helms waited near the ropes for Lazarus to get up, but before Laz could really get his feet under him it looked as if Helms was ready to slingshot himself over the top rope. However, Helms may have really showed his smarts here because he knew Laz would calculate that maneuver and so Helms simply hopped over to the opposite side of the apron, faking the suicide dive.

Laz bit the bait... and then Helms caught him off guard with a corkscrew senton. Both men were down and hurting on the outside.

Men, women, and children throughout the arena tried to give the momentum to Laz as they chanted his name.

"LAZ"... "LAZ"... "LAZ"...

Trying to give their preferred victor, some new life.

Despite the chants, Helms was the first to his feet and he hunched over to pick Laz up, Laz hit an elbow to Helms midsection and the crowd popped, but they were quickly disappointed when Helms drove his knee through Laz�s face, and then tossed his body back into the ring.

Alan climbed into the ring after Laz, but not through the ropes� he was going up top! Helms climbed up the turnbuckles from the outside and collected his balance. He knew he would need something big to secure his first victory, so he was pulling out all stops. Helms went for the 450 splash!!!

LAZ GETS THE KNEES UP!

Helms had executed a beautiful 450 splash through the air, but just as he was about to connected, Laz got the knees up and that was bad news for Helms!

Nonetheless, one man�s pain is another man�s triumph, and this was Laz�s chance to get control back!

Fans continued to give their support through a loud ovation as Laz got up to his feet. Helms was still rolling around on his knees, clutching at his stomach. He began coughing up some spit as Adam Lazarus went off the rope� shining wizard!

Helms was laid out on his back counting the stars in the overhead lights until Laz reached down and pulled him up by his hair. A step through heel kick put Helms right back down, flat on his back, and it appeared that Laz was finally starting to feel good again. He checked on his head bandages which had been unraveled a bit, but he was able to keep the gauze over his stitches.

Rolling Thunder by Laz connected! And Helms wasn't going to stick around in the ring after that... He rolled in pain to the outside, using the guardrail as support his body and hold himself up. Laz wasn't done with his attack though. Laz ran and used the 2nd rope adjacent to the side Helms was standing on, and moonsaulted his body over the top rope to the outside! What a display of athleticism from Adam Lazarus!

Once again both men were down on the outside, knotted in pain, and once again the crowd all stood in attention, waiting for one of them to get to their feet...

And they could breathe a sigh of relief, because it was Laz that came out the better of the two, as he was the first one up and he slid into the ring to continue his recovery, as Helms was still on the outside.

Alan was holding his back near his kidney, and he appeared to be a bit dizzy -- but more than anything he seemed pissed off.

Maybe it was due to embarrassment or maybe it was the sheer fact that he didn�t want to lose in his first match in the Arena of Champions, but as he made his way to his feet, he started cussing out a family in the front row. Laz saw this from inside the ring, and came for the save as he baseball-slid out of the ring, hitting Helms with his feet and sending him face first into the guardrail once again.

Helms was able to stay on his feet as Laz held him by the back of the hair and hammered away with stiff jabs. He then slid Alan�s body into the ring.

The family which Helms had been picking on cheered especially wild for Laz as he followed in after Alan and immediately continued to work on Helms, trying to lock in an STF.

Helms crawled away wildly, kicking and wiggling his way to the ropes, forcing the ref to step in and protect him� even though it was very apparent that the ref could care less about truly protecting him. He even allowed Laz to start stomping on Al after a moment.

Laz ran and hit a knee smash to Alan�s face and then tried to sneak in a pin�

One�

T�

Hardly even a two count as Alan kicked out of that, and sat right up. His fists were shaking in front of his body and he looked out at the audience like a crazed man.

Laz didn�t plan on letting Helms get back in this match though, and was looking to put Helms back down on his back. He went off the ropes� Helms rolled through over to his stomach and Laz had to do a step over to avoid tripping.

Helms popped up and leap-frogged Laz on the way back, forcing Laz into a 3rd run from the ropes and both men went for dropkicks at the same time, connecting only the soles of their feet! The two men quickly rolled up and stared each other down, despite their mild exhaustion.

Again, Laz checked on his head while they both started circling the ring. Alan Helms was obviously growing more and more frustrated and impatient. They moved toward each other, and Laz struck with a kick to the midsection. He went for another neckbreaker on Helms but Helms pushes his way out of it and bounced off the ropes.

Laz turned and was met immediately by Helms with a hurricanrana!

An evil beaming laughter overtook Alan as he thought he would really put Laz away with that one. He jumped back up to his feet, pulling at his hair in joy� only to turn around to Laz who was already back up on his feet somehow.

Laz wouldn�t stay down for nothin�. He wanted that revenge on Helms for taking his title shot... and he wanted it reallllllll bad.

Helms dashed across the ring at Laz in a fit, delivering stiff kick after stiff kick all over Laz�s midsection and lower legs, and all Laz could do was cover himself and take it.

Kick�. after kick� after kick�

Laz took the punishment until Helms wore himself out kicking, and needed a breather. He had backed Laz into the ropes, and as Helms tried resting, Laz ducked underneath and hip tossed Helms to the mat.

The impact from the mat sent Helms back up to a sitting position after he grabbed his back for a moment, but it wasn�t the pain of impact that got to him� Helms was just flat out frustrated. For whatever reason, he went into the match thinking that he was going to breeze to his first victory in LoC, but this place was much tougher than he imagined. All he could do was sit there and shake his head, while Laz jumped around, somehow finding energy.

Helms threw his arms up in the air as if he had, had enough of this already, and then rolled to the outside of the mat. He lifted up the skirt of the ring and began rummaging through some stuff. Laz headed over to that side of the ring and peeked over the side of the top rope to look down at Helms.

SWING AND A MISS!

Alan had pulled a chair out and tried to connect for the second week with a chair to the skull of Laz, but Laz was too quick on his feet.

Laz backed off and watched Helms slide into the ring, chair first like a madman, and let the referee handle him.

The ref grabbed for the chair, and told him he would draw the DQ for using the weapon, as if Helms hadn�t already known. At this point though, apparently he didn�t care because he wasn�t letting go of that chair.

Laz looked to take full advantage of the situation.

With Helms arguing and playing a tug of war game with the referee, Laz darted towards Helms and hit the spinning wheel kick! The chair dropped to the mat as did Helms body.

Helms was outraged!!! He exploded up to his feet, only to be already sent back off the ropes with an Irish whip� Laz with the drop toe hold� RIGHT ONTO THE CHAIR???

Or was it? At first glance it didn�t seem Helms head was lined up with the chair correctly, but the noise of some kind of impact with the chair was heard, and Helms appeared to be out cold�!

His head must have caught the corner of the chair because he wasn�t moving� Eyes shut and all.

Both the referee and Lazarus examined Helms before doing anything.

Laz was shocked because he hadn�t planned on dropping Helms face first onto the chair. They poked and prodded for a moment but there was no movement from Helms.

Laz and the referee looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders�. Laz was all about taking advantage of opportunities and the ref couldn't disqualify him for the chair that Helms had brought into the ring -- nor could he disqualify him for something he didn't see.

"..."

SMALL PACKAGE ROLLUP!?!?!

One�

Two�

Three!!!

What the hell just happened???

That sneaky bastard! Alan Helms had played opossum and caught Laz with a small package rollup for the victory!!!

Quickly Helms exited the ring and raised his hands in the air like he just won an Olympic medal or the lottery or something.

Laz came to the ropes and the two exchanged more words.

Helms was happy to jibber-jabber, throwing around words with Laz, but wasn�t about to get within an arms length of him.

The referee hopped down and raised Helms hand victoriously, to which Helms pulled his arm away saying �Don�t touch me�.

Helms walked up the ramp and hit his signature pose before leaving behind the curtain to a sea of unhappy fans. Two straight weeks Helms had cheated the fans,

Two straight weeks Helms had cheated Adam Lazarus... but in his mind he got the job done.

Winner: Alan Helms.

U2 ARE IN TROUBLE

Jeff Garvin had left his dressing room and immediately went in search of his wife, still incredibly pissed off to the point that if someone -- it doesn't matter who, it could be anyone -- stepped into his path of travel, he'd have to put his fist through their face. It wasn't a question of "want".

Garvin was stopped by a soda machine, knelt down, tying his running shoe -- which he still had on from his jog earlier -- when he heard two voices conversing amongst one another -- familair in the sense that he felt as though he'd heard the exact same exchange of mindless banter three years prior in Action! Wrestling between a tag team known as "Pretty Fly".

Tilting his head upward and staring across the large open area, he saw Team Baked standing beside a storage crate, rolling a fat blunt. Why a "fat blunt", you ask? Well, despite the fact they're both huge stoners and stoners generally like smoking fat blunts, it also happened to be "Blunt Day". A day exclusively set aside for the smokage of blunts.

Garvin stomped over to where Bammy and Mooch were standing (in hopes of taking out his fustruation, which had manifested itself in the presense of Kayden Paulton, on the two members of Team Baked) and threw his hands down on the storage crate. His left hand slid across the top and sent the unfinished blunt sailing into the wall, spilling its precious contents everywhere.

Bammy's mouth fell agape. He glanced down at the mess on the floor, then at Jeff, and asked, "Hey, what's your problem, bud!"

Garvin, without missing a beat, replied, "You two stoners think you can just... light up wherever and polute the lungs of the healthy! I'm sorry, CHEECH, but I watch what I eat, I diet properly, and I DON'T ingest cigarette smoke."

"Ah, so you're a cigar man, huh? That's coo', bro... whenever Mooch and I hit the links we like to bring a couple stogies along and just puff away, y'know? Then we burn a doob and drive around in the golf cart pretending to be one of those NASCAR guys!

"RAH RAH RAH BLACK PEOPLE SUCK"

That's me being a NASCAR guy."

Mooch added, "Bammy, you kinda' sorta' sounded like Kenwright just then!"

"Seriously!? Weiiiiiiird.

"Intolerance sucks."

"Kenwright sucks."

"Totally."

Staring at Mooch, Jeff grumbled, his scowl tightening a bit. "Cigarette smoke, cigar smoke -- IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT KIND, TOBACCO IN GENERAL I DISLIKE!

"But I ESPECIALLY despise THAT." He said as he pointed to the spilt marijuanna that Bammy was in the process of collecting back in his tin. "You two wanna smoke that kind of illegal substance until you're too stupid to write your own name? GO RIGHT AHEAD! I have stratagems I'd like to be able to carry out in my matches. I value my intelligence and mental capacity! I want to be able to rationalize and think CLEARLY. What I DON'T want is to be like YOU TWO!"

Bammy closed the lid on his tin and stood up. He looked at Jeff, and asked, "Dude...

...

"What's wrong with U2? Bono's just tryin't t'help the world."

Mooch nodded in agreement. "Yeah, bud, if anything... if we'd all just, like -- be MORE like U2, then I think the world would be a better place."

"Not U2, you fucking idiots!" Garvin's hand fell over his face. Annoyed, he shook his head.

"Yes. US! We believe in what U2 is doing, and bud..." Bammy said, taking a step toward Garvin and jamming a finger in 'the Original''s chest. "Ya better watch what ya say from now on. You wanna badmouth Mooch and I? FINE. You wanna knock our weed to the floor? FINE. What-ev! But don't you EVER talk negatively about the band that brought us "BEAUTIFUL DAY"! We cool?"

Garvin appeared calm, his face not yet conveying any semblance of anger, as his eyes bounced from Bammy, to Mooch, to Bammy. He cracked a smile. "No, we are definitely NOT cool! What you both fail to realize is that you are � THAT IS BAMMY AND MOOCH," he stared at them individually for two whole seconds when citing their names, "ARE AN EMBARRASSMENT TO THIS SPORT!

"I don't know if Black Tom has a twink fetish or something, but I'm willing to bet you two potheads were smoking something other than marijuanna when Black Tom agreed to sign you to a deal, if you catch my drift," Jeff said.

Bammy and Mooch exchanged a glance. "Hash?"

Bammy followed up with, "Hash is pretty good. Nice mellow high. No paranoia. But whenever I smoke it I feel like I'm cheating on my wife of fifteen years who's put on a little weight and turned into a huuuuge bitch... it's like, ok- so marijuanna, you're a little chunky, but that's alright! 'Cause I loves ya just the same!"

Nodding, Mooch responded, "I hear ya, bro... it's like you've got this ugly wife at home, and this hot chick who you can bang on the side. Thing is, said hot chick only wants missionary -- so you're torn because your wife let's you put in her mouth, among other places.

"Thus, while one may sample the goods of another woman � take her out for dinner at a moderately priced restaurant, then to the late show of a movie everyone's already seen so there's no one around to rat you out... you always go back to the one you married... 'cause she gives great -- y'know, Y'KNOW... apple fritter.

"And when you're stoned, apple fritter is the SHIT."

Garvin's jaw hung open. Was everyone in LoC as daft as Kayden Paulton and Team Baked, or was he just very, very unlucky?

"I'm through listening to this. I wanna match with you two tonight so that I can show you first hand what strict dieting, clean living, and an exhaustive training regime can do... 'cause it's blatantly obvious you two have no idea what the inside of a gym looks like." Jeff's intense stare left the duo of Mooch and Bammy as he turned around and continued on his way, somehow in a worse mood than he was when he left Kayden Paulton to rummage around in the piles of broken VHS tapes in search of one that may have somehow survived Jeff's Hiroshima.

With Jeff Garvin out of sight, Bammy turned to Mooch, Mooch turned to Bammy. There was a long silence, then Bammy spoke up, "DOOOOOD. We better get to that ring before U2 has a chance to answer Jeff's challenge! We don't want the greatest rock band of all time to get hurt, do we!?"

"No way, Jose!"

"LEZ GOOOOO!"

Team Baked marched off, with Bammy leading the charge, to save Bono and the gang from the shitkicking their now-arch nemesis, Jeff Garvin, was looking to inflict.

This wasn't going to be pretty.

A LESSON LEARNED

Several LoC Officials were tending to matters of finding a particular wrestler that had to be questioned in regards to a late arrival. They scurried past a man spiffed up in a custom Dolce & Gabbana black suit. This was the same man who would be going to NTB in a big way. This man was �The Equalizer� Ray Chavez.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed someone directly in front of him a few feet away. Such a coincidence that these two men meet face-to-face after the events that took place last Violence in the main event.

�The Archfiend� Alan Helms was fresh off his first victory in LoC and he was none too pleased to see Chavez staring dead at him.

Helms paused for a quick moment, creating an awkward tension, but he held his composure and continued walking. He was upbeat about his win and feeling on top of the world. As if nothing could stop him�

But then he was.

Chavez grasped Helms� arm firmly causing him to halt.

�Seems we have some unfinished business we need to take care of.� Ray released Helms� arm to fold both of his own.

Helms snickered out of sheer disrespect for this main eventer. �I know you. I�ve heard about you and I ain�t impressed. Now what business you talking �bout?�

Chavez smiled.

�It�s a small matter of you hitting me with a chair last week.�

Helms thought to himself for a moment, not actually remembering if the chairshot had connected with Chavez as well. It wasn�t part of his original gameplan, but he wasn�t about to back down now.

�Oh yeah, that�s right! You know, I almost forgot, but now it�s coming back to me�� Helms said in a sarcastic tone with an unfriendly smile. �You were the one who got in my way� Guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.� Helms said arrogantly and then looked to continue passing on his way.

Chavez leaned in and stopped Helms yet again. He moved in a bit closer and stared directly into Helms� light blue eyes. The look was enough to intimidate people much bigger than himself, but this was a lesson that begged to be taught.

�I don�t think you quite understand how things work here in LoC, or just who the hell I am. First of all, whatever you think you heard about me doesn�t compare to my capabilities in and out of the ring. Secondly, when some punk kid like you whacks me with a chair, I tend to get a little upset which I�m sure you can understand. Now you can stand there with that stupid look on your face and pretend to be unfazed, but we both know there�s a good reason why your heart�s beating a little faster right now.� Chavez paused briefly.

Helms was taken back by the level to which Ray was pressing him. He decided that he needed to make it clear he wasn�t going to let anyone walk over him. No matter whom they were.

He shot in his response. �You think I�m scared of you? Just to refresh your short-term memory, I just beat Adam Lazarus. Ya know, the same guy that beat the World Champion, Sylo. I�m already in the big leagues and I�d recommend you watch your step��

Chavez wasn�t about to listen to Helms ramble on. The kid had just bragged about beating a man who only beat Sylo because he DQed him! Chavez gave it to him straight. �There aren�t any leagues here son. You�re in the Legacy of Champions. That�s all there is to it. Only time can tell if you deserve to be here, but I see what you�re attempting to do. Hell, I�ve been there before only I got the job done my way.

You turn your back on all your fans, interfere in the main event, blah blah blah. Nice try, but your conceit in yourself will spell your demise with this company. You�ve already stepped on the wrong guys� toes and now I�m in your face.�

The area seemed to be getting smaller for Helms. He found himself between a rock and a hard place. Perhaps he should�ve left when he had the chance. Interestingly enough, Helms didn�t think for one second that he couldn�t take Chavez.

�I�m not just some kid who�s going to let you run your mouth while I just stand here like an idiot.� Helms stated clearly.

Chavez didn�t miss a beat, �You don�t need to stand there to be an idiot. You get that one just being you. I got some more pressing matters to attend to though. What I expect from you now is an apology then I want you to turn around and walk away. Once you�re out of my sight, I don�t ever want you to look in my direction again or you�ll be extremely sorry. Am I clear?�

Now Helms� eyes were wide as he brought his index finger and thumb to his eyebrows and began rubbing them as if he were confused. �Apology?� He laughed to himself. �You must be out of your fuckin� mind if you think I�m gonna apologize to you.�

Chavez made it crystal clear. �Son, you either apologize like a man who�s done wrong or I�ll treat you like a man who�s done wrong. Your choice.�

Helms wiped the sweat from his forehead and flicked it in Chavez�s face. �Go to hell��

Helms walked past Chavez, bumping his shoulder in the process. Chavez swiftly clutched a handful of Helms� multicolored hair and drove his knee into his abdomen, knocking the remaining air out of his lungs. With a handful of hair, Chavez whipped Helms face-first into the cement wall.

Chavez wiped his hands together. �Just remember kid, you made me do this to you.� Ray then continued to brush off his suit.

�You�ve got a long way to come if you ever want to be worth a damn around here. You�re no champion by any means.� He realized Helms was hardly listening to him, but finished nonetheless. �Consider this a lesson learned, albeit by you the hard way.�

Chavez walked off in the opposite direction while the camera focused back on Helms who was on the floor. He slowly raised his head and spat a large wad of blood that splattered on the cement.

Helms flashed a toothy grin, mouth full of blood, and shouted in Chavez�s direction. �This ain�t over!�

He maneuvered his body to sit up against the wall and said to himself. �I may not be a champion yet, but I can beat a champion. Come Underground everyone will know exactly what I mean.� Again Helms flashed his evil grin, showing off his faded-crimson colored teeth. It seemed as if Helms had a plan, but we would have to wait for Underground to find out.

Helms wiped the backside of his hand across his lips and the scene faded out while he examined his own blood.

�Jupiter' by 30 Seconds To Mars blasted from the P.A. system, signifying the imminent entrance of Aran Thompson. The crowd stood and booed. A few moments later Thompson stepped through the curtain and out on to the stage. He did not pause for the fans, not even to look around but rather he began pacing down the ramp towards the ring. Aran�s eyes were focused, narrow slits. He swooped up to the apron and stepped through the middle rope in to the ring. Taking his corner in silence he waited for the arrival of the Relentless champion and the person defending the title on his behalf. Soon his music faded out and was replaced with the music of his opponent.

White Stairs� filled the silence. The audience decided that they hated Kevin Kassidy Kenwright even more than they hated Aran Thompson. Phoenix Rose stepped on to the stage area and raised his arm in to the air. The fans gave a gap in the boos to give a small cheer for Rose before resuming their boos as Rose�s most successful client stepped out behind him. A solitary, half-empty beer cup flew across the stage, narrowly missing Kenwright who simply ignored the attack and brushed past his manager, raising both arms in to the air.

Boooooooo�

KKK sneered for a moment before walking down the ramp slowly, looking around at the front rows. Rose followed behind, the Relentless title around his waist. KKK slid under the bottom rope and hopped to his feet, standing in the centre of the ring. He looked across at his opponent who simply curled his lips in to a scowl and continued looking back at KKK. A cane tapped Kevin on the shoulder. Turning around KKK stepped back towards the ropes and sat on the middle rope, holding the top rope up for his manager, who stepped gingerly through the ropes, his cane dragging behind him. Rose then handed his cane to KKK as the entrance music died down.

Removing the title from around his waist Rose folded the straps behind one another and raised the belt in to the air as if he were a hot chick in a bikini with a sign reading �Round One!� in her hand (which he certainly was NOT) The crowd gave a small pop, whether that was for Rose or for the title itself remains to be seen.

Rose stepped back across the ring and had a few words with his client before slapping him on the back, taking his cane back, and leaving the ring carefully.

The bell sounded, getting the match underway. Both men left their corners and circled one another for a few seconds before lunging in to an old fashioned tie-up. KKK took the early advantage; over-powering the smaller, lighter Aran Thompson and shoving him back in to his original corner in the far left corner of the ring. KKK advanced quickly, only two steps behind his opponent, and drove his elbow in to the cheek of Aran before hitting him with a hard right fist three times. Aran blocked the fourth shot with his left arm and shot a right fist of his own back, making contact with KKK�s face and sending him stumbling a few steps backwards. Aran ran from the corner and clotheslined KKK, dropping him down to the mat.

KKK was quick to get back to his feet but was soon knocked down again by Aran with a hard shot to the face. This repeated two more times before Aran swung his boot across at the recovering KKK, hitting him hard in the side. As KKK lay staring at the lighting Aran drove his elbow down in to KKK�s chest before mauling him with scratches and punches to the chest and face, his forearms savagely smashing in to the ribs of Kenwright. Aran then grabbed the sides of KKK�s face and began to ram the back of his head in to the mat over and over.

The referee stepped in to pull Aran away, being forced to drag the arms of Aran Thompson away from his opponent. Aran jumped to his feet and began arguing with the referee.

Meanwhile, across the ring Rose patted the face of his client in a weak attempt to wake his dazed representative. KKK began to stir and rolled to his side. Rose jumped on to the apron, realising that Aran had almost finished arguing with the referee, thus distracting the official and Aran Thompson. Aran hurled abuse at his former manager, the referee interjected himself between the two men and eventually forced Rose down off the apron. By this time KKK was to his feet. Aran turned around to be met with a shuffle side kick, sending him crashing to the mat.

KKK covered.

One�

Two�

Kick out.

KKK got back to his feet and waited for Aran to get back to a vertical base. As Aran found KKK, KKK leapt in to the air and hit a perfectly executed dropkick. Aran was a few inches too far back and sold the dropkick poorly, stumbling backwards and falling in to the ropes and to the outside of the ring.

In the ring KKK headed towards the ropes, looking to step to the outside and continue the match, but the referee approached KKK and warned him to stay inside the ring. The two began to argue.

On the outside Rose pushed past an LoC crew member and grabbed his title belt, the glass cane nowhere to be seen. As Aran got to his feet Rose dove across the matted floor and hammered him in the head with the title, both men falling to the ground in a heap. Rose rolled back to his feet quickly and began kicking Aran in the ribs for a few moments before scooping Aran�s head and dragging him to his feet. Rose grabbed the back of Aran�s head and charged across the floor, tossing his head in to the steel of the turnbuckle. Aran twisted and flipped over, slapping the floor hard and rolling around on the ground, his face in his hands.

Back in the ring KKK continued to argue with the official, eventually shoving him to one side and exiting the ring. Dropping to the same side of the ring as Aran and Rose, KKK pushed past Rose and dragged Aran to a vertical base once more. KKK pushed Aran against the fan barricade before whipping him across the floor, driving Aran�s spine in to the side of the ring. Aran arched his back in pain but the pain soon subsided as KKK grabbed him by the arm again and whipped him back in to the fan barricade. Aran�s stomach and ribs crashed in to the barricade, sending him collapsing over the barricade in to the front row of the audience. KKK slid over the barricade and helped Aran back to his feet.

By this point the referee had left the ring and was heading over to the barricade to try and restore some order. Rose interjected and shoved the referee. The referee pointed at Rose, giving him a stern warning before heading once more for the barricade. Rose, running out of ideas, yanked on the pants of the referee, pulling them down around his ankles. The referee, embarrassed, fell to the ground, tripping over his own pants. Tugging at the twisted pants, the referee got back to his feet and sped down the side of the ramp, heading off in to the back, completely humiliated.

Back in the front rows KKK picked up a chair and folded it up, smashing it in to the forehead of Aran Thompson. Aran swayed but stayed on his feet. KKK took a few steps back and ran in to the second shot, which sent Aran falling backwards slowly, as if he were a tree in a forest falling at the hands of a lumberjack.

Kenwright tossed the chair down on top of Aran before looking around the audience. Kevin grabbed a teenage girl of African origin by her long braided hair and spoke in to her ear before tugging her head under his armpit. The crowd booed and security swarmed the area, keeping people back. KKK delivered a flowing DDT to the girl, driving her head in to the steel chair on top of Aran�s head. The girl rolled over on to her back then further on to her side. The chair slide from Aran�s face and KKK grabbed Aran, picking him up and holding him by the scruff of his t-shirt and the waistband of his pants. KKK tossed Aran back over the barricade to the ringside area before clambering over the barricade himself.

Back at the ringside area Rose booted Aran until KKK returned to the side of the ring and joined in. Rose backed off as a second referee charged down the ramp and around to the side of the ring. The referee grabbed KKK by the shoulder, his words being overheard by a close by camera.

�Get this back in the ring or I�ll disqualify you!�

KKK scoffed and picked Aran up, rolling him under the bottom rope. KKK hopped up on to the apron and confidently stepped in through the ropes. He looked around at the audience for a moment, his hand resting on the back of Aran�s head as Aran recovered.

The referee had a word with Rose on the outside of the ring, warning him to stay well out of the match.

Back in the ring Aran Thompson�s arm shot in to life, delivering a low blow to KKK. Aran jumped to his feet and bounced off the nearest rope, delivering a swinging neck breaker.

The referee entered the ring for the first time in the match and stood to his feet. Both men lay on the ground, Aran holding his face, Kenwright holding his groin. A ten count was instigated.

One�

Two�

Three�

Four�

Aran began to stir.

Five�

Six�

KKK rolled on to his side, Aran crawled to a ring rope.

Seven�

Aran dragged himself up to his knees, breaking the count.

Slowly Aran got back to his feet, drained after the slew of foreign objects and underhand tactics thrown his way during the match. He looked across the ring at KKK who was now on his knees, his head pressed in to the mat. Aran ran across the ring and spring boarded off the middle rope in the centre of the rope, twisting 180 degrees and hitting a springboard leg drop on to the back of KKK�s head. KKK�s body went limp. Aran turned him over and lay across him, hooking his leg.

One�

Two�

A pull on the ankle brought Aran sliding to the outside of the ring. Aran landed on his feet to see Rose standing in front of him. Realising that Aran was in better form than he had originally expected Rose gave a shrug and a customary cheeky grin before turning tail and running around the ring. Aran gave chase, doing two laps of the ring before Rose slid in to the ring. Aran followed and headed across the ring where Rose had slid back out to the outside. Aran�s eyes set on Rose before he---

BAM!

Kevin Kassidy Kenwright interrupted Aran Thompson with a hard spear. KKK jumped on top of Aran and began punching him.

�Onetwothreefourfivesixsevennineten! Come on!� The referee counted with authority before grabbing the raised arm of KKK, halting the punches.

KKK got to his feet and pushed the referee away from his arm. KKK raised his foot and drove it down in to Aran�s heart, but Aran caught the boot inches away from his chest. Swinging his body around, Aran kicked the back of KKK�s ankle, tripping him and forcing him to fall flat on his back. Aran was quick to his feet and jumped on to the middle turnbuckle before leaping backwards and hitting a quick Moonsault on top of KKK.

One�

Tw�Kick out.

Aran got back to his feet and ran against the ropes at the far end of the ring, letting KKK gather his footing and get back to a standing position again. As he did Aran dove towards him, arms stretched out. Aran hit a cross body splash, but was caught by his opponent. KKK dropped the legs of Aran and picked them back up again, almost missing the spot completely. He carried his opponent to the centre of the ring and fell backwards, hitting a fall away slam. Aran pushed away and landed on his feet, leaving KKK on the mat all alone. Aran dropped a knee in to the nose of KKK, drawing tears from his opponent as a natural reaction to the sharp jab on the edge of the nose. KKK grasped at his face giving Aran the opportunity to step to the outside of the ring and climb to the top rope.

Aran looked down at his opponent who still writhed in pain. He then jumped across the ring and turned in the air, hitting a perfect shooting star press. The crowd cheered for the prowess of athletic manoeuvre.

Aran pinned his opponent, hooking his leg.

One�

Rose tore away at his hair, loosening the ponytail as his fingernails gripped his scalp.

Two�

�NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!� Rose exclaimed

Thr�KKK kicked out!

Aran slapped the mat in frustration, looking across at the referee who held two fingers up for the benefit of Thompson. Aran got to his feet and dragged KKK with him. He threw KKK�s head in to the top turnbuckle over and over before turning him in to the corner and stomping on his stomach again and again. A moment later Aran pulled KKK away from the corner and stepped behind him, jumping to sit on the top turnbuckle, his feet on the middle ropes. Aran locked in an inverted face lock. Aran sprang from the ropes.

THE ANSWER!

Rose screamed on the outside of the ring as Aran climbed across Kenwright and hooked his leg.

One�

Two�

Three!

The bell sounded, Aran Thompson was the new Relentless champion.

Winner: Aran Thompson.

O TASTE AND SEE

Christel sat on the bench in pain, placing the ice pack firm on her shoulder as she attempted to drain the pain away. Fury masked her attitude as she seeked revenge on the tandem that had caused this very pain. Her revenge would come, she was quite sure of that, but right now she just wanted to wash away the pain as much as possible, and upon doing so, only one question lingered throughout her mind.

Where the hell was Elisa with those painkillers?

Knock
Knock
Knock

Figuring that it was no one other than Elisa at the door, Christel responded to the knocks with a simple �it�s open�. As she heard the door creak open from behind her, she responded to what she thought was Elisa�s presence.

�Got those painkillers, Lizzy?�

�Oh, I�ve got something to kill the pain alright.�

The deep tone in the response was enough for Christel to realize that it wasn�t Elisa behind her. She pushed herself off of the bench and yanked herself around as she braced herself for what seemed to be an inevitable fight with the man who was now in her dressing room. The same man she�d had a near brutal encounter with earlier in the night...Ali Khadafi.

�Three seconds. That�s all I�m giving you to get out, and two seconds are already up.� She stated with her fist�s clinched tightly, staring down Khadafi whom had two glasses of drink in hand.

�Just hear me out, Christel. I�m not here to stir up more trouble...I just want to offer a peace salute. Here...I brought you a martini made by the best in the land.� Khadafi replied, extending his arm in order to give Christel the martini. She hesitated for a moment...

�Come on. I�m trying to be a nice guy here. What I did earlier was very rude, and I feel awful. Just a drink...it won�t hurt.�

Khadafi�s sweet-talking was something that Christel found herself not being very fond of, but that martini sure looked good. She quickly found herself accepting the drink as Khadafi smiled and held his up.

�A toast...to newfound friendship.�

The glasses clashed together as both toasted and took a sip of the drink. Khadafi finished his entirely, but something seemed terribly wrong with Christel�s as she immediately dropped the glass forcing it to shatter upon the ground below. Slowly she found herself clinching her neck, coughing profusely as sweat began to rush down her face. She fell to one knee as her face began to take a shade of purple.

Khadafi smiled while watching it all.

With Christel on both knee�s now, barely clinging to her life, Khadafi kneeled down so that he stared the giant right in the eye, grabbing a chunk full of her hair and pulling it back tightly so that pain circulated through her body while he delivered the message.

�Stay away from Quo, bitch...or I�ll personally see to it that you do.� Khadafi stated, laughing menacingly as he stood back to a vertical position.

He took a few steps back and charged forward, delivering a devastating straight kick that rang throughout the locker room, forcing Christel�s eyes to roll to the back of her head as she fell back first unto the ground below.

Khadafi stood triumphant over the female goliath.

His work was done.

LAST STRAW

Ray Chavez was seen somewhere backstage sipping a steaming cup a Joe. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, waiting for the effects of the coffee to set in. This day wasn�t exactly going the way he had wanted it to. Too many things were coming up left and right and his head wasn�t exactly clear of thoughts on this particular night. All in all, he wasn�t in a good mood.

�Ray��

Ray turned around to see his good friend Alan Johnson, who was a road agent for LoC.

�How�s it going Alan?� Ray asked genuinely concerned since the two hadn�t spoken in quite some time now.

Alan seemed to be a little uneasy when speaking to Ray. This wasn�t his usual behavior. �I�m doing fine Ray. Thanks for asking. I�ve been looking for you backstage for the past couple minutes.�

�I�ve been back here the whole time. Here and there of course, but I�ve been here. Why were you looking for me?� Ray asked before sipping the warm sustenance.

�I was told you arrived at the building late? That correct?� He stammered.

�Yeah, it�s correct. I ran into problems at the airport. I was only about twenty minutes late though. It won�t happen again.� Ray smiled and took another sip.

Alan scratched the back of his nappy head, palms quite sweaty now. �I�m going to have to fine you Ray. I�m sorry.�

�Fine me? Ha ha, you�re joking right?� Ray asked thinking it was a typical joke.

Alan wasn�t laughing, he was sweating. �No joke. $2000 will be deducted from your paycheck. It�s above my head?�

This was the last straw. Ray could only take so much and keep his mouth shut. That time had come and gone.

�Above your head? Everything that goes on in this godamn place is above someone else�s head. Either that or they just stab you in the back and go about their business. You know what Alan? You�re no different from any one of these two faced sons a bitches.� Ray turned around to leave.

Alan quickly ran around and stood in Ray�s way. �It�s not like that. I could lose my job if I don�t follow the bosses� orders. What�s with you? You�re not the same guy I remember.�

Ray�s blood instantly boiled and Alan could swear there was fire in those hazel eyes. �You�re damn right I�m not the same guy. I�ve been screwed too many times here. I�ve been lied to, cheated out, and overall fucked time and time again. All that stops now.�

Ray shoved Alan to the side and made his way towards the ring.

�You�re not going out there Ray! You�re not scheduled to go out there!� Alan shouted.

Ray smiled at his old friend�s meager attempt. �Since when have you known me to follow the rules?�

With that, Ray tossed the blistering coffee at Alan�s chest, staining his white shirt and obviously burning him at the same time. Alan shrieked out in pain as several other LoC officials stormed over to him to see what was wrong.

�Stop Chavez!� Alan screamed out to his coworkers.

Ray noticed about fifteen officials darting his way. He thought quickly and snatched up a steel chair nearby. He folded it up and raised it up like a baseball bat. He motioned for the officials to keep on coming. Had one of them done so, they would�ve received a dent in their heads courtesy of the Equalizer.

Ray continued to back peddle out past the curtains. It was evident that the officials weren�t going to rush him anytime soon. He turned around and made his way into the ring to a mixed reaction. Nobody really knew what to expect after seeing the spectacle before.

Ray unfolded the chair and set it down in the middle of the ring. He then walked over to the ring announcer and whispered something in his ear. Seconds later he now had a microphone in hand.

�I may not be a bald-headed, finger gesturing sumbitch� but I�ll be damned if I can�t have a cold brewskido while I�m out here doing my thing.�

This actually garnered a nice pop from the crowd.

Ray motioned for someone to toss him a cold one at ringside. Nobody moved not quite understanding what he actually wanted. Not to mention they didn�t have any beer at ringside.

�Seems this wonderful company I work for isn�t good enough to keep a few beers at around. So I ask you� the fans of LoC� does anybody have a cold beer for Ray Chavez?�

More cheers from the crowd. Ray placed his hand on his forehead and looked around the crowd. He spotted a rather busty blonde in a tight white shirt motioning for him to take her cup.

Ray exited the ring and walked over to where she was sitting in the front row. He raised the mic back up to his mouth.

�Is that for me?� The blonde screamed and shook her head up and down. Ray took the cup and chugged down some of the contents. He wiped his mouth and raised the cup in the air to another pop. �Now that hit the spot. I appreciate it luv, why don�t you stay after the show�s over and I�ll show you how grateful I am.�

Ray kissed her on the cheek causing her to jump up and down hysterically. He made his way back into the ring, beer in hand, and took a seat on the steel chair.

�I know you guys haven�t heard much vocally from me since Or Die Trying. I�m sure you guys remember what took place. What you don�t know, is the effect it had on me. I know firsthand that I don�t always make popular decisions. I never claimed to be perfect, but I normally do what�s in my best interest.�

Ray lowered the mic and took a moment to quench his thirst one more time.

�You guys have seen me take on some of the best talent that LoC has to offer. I�ve won some and others I haven�t, but I�m still here. I�m still a capable force to be reckoned with. Hell, I never claimed to be any better than the rest, but I know I can hang with the best of the best. In a nutshell, you guys are looking at the next World Heavyweight Champion.�

Another mixed reaction, this one leaning more towards a pop. Most fans didn�t really want the belt around the wait of the Superbeast any longer.

�I�ve learned a couple things since joining the ranks of LoC. One is that you don�t trust anybody in this company because everybody has their own personal agenda. I saw that with Black Tom Williams.� Chavez looked directly at the camera and pointed. �And don�t think I�ve forgotten you. I�m just waiting for the right time.�

Ray stood up and paced around the ring a little.

�Two is the fact that I�m one of the best wrestlers on this roster. The Legacy Championship has been a focus of mine since my arrival here. There is absolutely nothing that is going to stand in my way to get the title draped over my shoulder. I don�t need any allies and lately it seems as if I�m garnering quite a few enemies. The odds have never been stacked in my favor and numbers never really bother me. I�ll take on the entire faction if need be. You can expect me to go down fighting because that�s just who I am!!�

The fans began cheer. Ray placed his hands at his hips and took a moment to look around the arena. It was all starting to soak in� a bit of his past had returned. Not bad. Ray pointed to all the officials outside the ring that were waiting for him.

�These guys don�t want me to be out here. Everybody is so determined to keep me down. They don�t want a guy like me running lose because they can�t control me. They don�t know what�s going to come out of my mouth next. This company is like poison� and I�ve already bit into it, tasted it� but it won�t consume me.

Now it time for a new chapter in The Equalizer�s career. Now it�s all about respect with me. I�ll give it to anybody else in that locker room as long as they give it right back to me. Respect is what�s going to keep things in line or completely burn this motherfucker to the ground! Either way I�m going to come out a winner. Respect. Look at some of the guys I�m going into No Turning Back with. You�ve got the World Champion Sylo whom I still owe an ass kicking to. I keep thinking back to Or Die Trying, where he played a huge role in my demise that night. Then there�s Superstar Vince Jacobs and believe me I know what this man can do. Don�t forget I worked with him in fWo. Ninja K, he and I have been to hell in back when I was gunning for the title he had on his waist. You even got Ryan Billows in the bunch. Him and I will never see eye-to-eye or even be considered any form of friends. One thing each of these men possess is my respect. You don�t have to like someone to respect them. I know these guys are the cr�me of the crop. I�ll get through the match at No Turning Back as long as the respect holds up.�

Ray raised the cup to his lips and swallowed the remaining contents. They crushed the cup and tossed it at the officials.

�The only guarantee I can make to all of you is that The Equalizer isn�t finished� not by a long shot. Come Revelations you�re looking at the next World Champion. I�ve got history with everybody going into that match right now. And as far as any rules are concerned� I�m going to make my own.

Now, onto some unfinished business. I�m sure everybody�s listening backstage, so I want Max Hopper to get his ass down here now!�

Ray leaned up against the ropes and waited for Hopper to come down. The officials were still shouting for him to get out of the ring, not knowing what else to do.

It was only a matter of seconds before


appeared on the screen and KC and the Sunshine Band's "That's the Way I Like It" blared out over the PA system. Max Hopper walked down the aisle without his tag team partner, Tyke, and soaked up the cheers from the fans and catcalls from the ladies. His hair was flawless and he was dressed to impress in an expensive, specially tailored suit. He kept emergency hair dressers and tailors on retainer for occasions such as this. He waved and blew kisses to the fans. He didn�t know why Chavez wanted him out here, but he didn't exactly care, either. He was always happy to see his public and there obviously was no love lost between the Fantasy and the Equalizer. They had history you know.

The officials moved out of Hopper�s way as he made his way a few feet from the ring. He hadn't even noticed the chair at Chavez�s feet; he just stood there posing for the fans. There eyes locked and Ray motioned for Hopper to get in the ring now. Hopper obliged and entered. His good mood had obviously been killed. Ray Chavez COULD be a bit of a buzzkill at times.

�Thanks for coming at my request Max. You probably have no clue why you�re out here, but rest assured I have a good reason.�

Max tightened his fists and continued listening to the same man he�d beaten for the Relentless title... the same man who hit him in the head with that same title only minutes after he had won it.

�You heard everything I said before about respect and me being big on it now right?�

Max nodded his head.

�Good. Then I�m sure you can recall me settling a score with Ryan Billows a few weeks back. In case you don�t remember, I cracked him over the head with a chair because he had it coming.�

Max stood there and listened.

�That all ended with you coming out to stick your nose where it didn�t belong. It was a personal matter between Billow and myself. It had nothing to do with you. Now, I know the fans like you� hell I even like you� you�re a funny guy. But what I need from you right now is an apology. It�s the right thing to do, the circumstances being what they are� and I�d appreciate it.�

Ray handed the mic to Hopper. Max stared at the Equalizer like he was wearing a bandana with a baseball cap over it. That sort of thing was a capital offense in fashion land.

�WHAAAAAA?!? Did you get a proper dose of the FOUR FOOD GROUPS today, Guy? YOU want to refresh MY memory about all of this.. this... MULARKEY? Let me remind you of something important to MEEEEE! I remember a certain somebody ruining MY celebration when I rescued every last citizen of Mexico by pinning YOUR shoulders to the mat, FAIR AND SQUARE I might add, to reclaim MY Championship of AAAAAAALL Mexico!"

Max was referring to the Relentless Championship, but for all he knew, he was still in IWF and it was the Mexican Title.

He continued. "As far as an apology goes, I'm afraid I can't do that, Guy. Think about this. You're talking an awful lot about respect, but was that respectful to me? Was it respectful to my buddy when you beat him up with that chair? Well, Guy, was it?" Chavez stood there, silent and undaunted. He was completely unaffected by Max's rather valid point. "I guess some things never change."

Ray lowered himself closer to the mic, �some things have to Max��

Ray instantaneously hoisted Max onto his shoulders and dropped him head-first with his patented D\/D ONTO THE CHAIR!!

Ray grabbed the mic from off the mat. �Don�t take this personal Max. I will not tolerate any form of disrespect from anybody in the Legacy of Champions. Consider this a message to everybody in the back. Now it�s time for you guys to make your move.�

Ray dropped the mic and stood there quite content with his actions and newfound self respect.

Will these two FINALLY feud???

ROUNDABOUT CONVERSATIONS ABOUT REVENGE...ALWAYS LEAD TO THREATS OF DEATH

"Well, how 'bout that there. That went pretty damn nicely for the boy..."

Black Tom Williams looked down at the ring, Thompson having just won the Relentless title and was celebrating in the ring. Black Tom had been looking through the glass of his Faction's Skybox, but turned his line of sight to the man he was talking to.

The Mammoth. Malik Roland.

Roland stood, strong and still, looking out at the ring but lost in thought. Angry thoughts, about what had happened with the men now known as The Jury... as his tag titles, but also what he had done in moving on from the Tag Titles... and his first unsuccessful attempt at splitting Turk in half for the Underground Championship. He turned to Black Tom, having caught that he was talking to him. They where otherwise alone, Sylo, Penance and JCON being up certain different things at the moment.

Malik grumbled in recognition, widening his eyes a bit, in recognition that something had been said to him.

"Nothing. Nothing..." Black Tom said, brushing off The Future's current success in the ring, "We kin get at that one later. You keep on thinking those unhappy thoughts, I'm gonna git ma'self into some trouble."

Black Tom chuckled to himself a bit, running his hand through his grey'd white moustache and stubble. Malik could here the door close behind, as Black Tom left the Skybox, leaving Malik alone with his thoughts on the future. Muscles tense. Gaze tight towards nowhere at all, really. He knew one thing...

He wasn't alone.

"What do you know about the Sixth Man?"

He was right.

"Who said that?" Malik Roland rocketed his own back him question. He twisted around, his eyes turning colder and that infamous snarl creeping up in his lip. There was silence, then Malik growled slightly, and turned himself fully around, flexing his mammoth physique.

"What do you know about the Sixth Man?" Was his only reply, and it was said in the same dry, non-threatening, and yet, entirely unafraid way.

"Ask someone who gives a fuck."

"I'm not asking just anyone, I'm asking you. Your a man of many enemies, what do you know?" The spit-fire response got a spit-fire return from the voice in the shadows of the large skybox.

"You aren't very smart are you? I'll give it to you, you must be brave to be in a room alone with me." Roland calmly responded.

"People have said that about me, yes. A great many times." The calmness was also there in the reply, though the tension within the skybox was unbearably thick. "What does The Faction have to do with the Sixth Man?"

"That's information I can't divulge..." Malik interrupted himself in mid-sentence and surveyed the room before continuing. "What interest do you have with him?"

"He attacked Latrell Samuel, before the kid even got a chance at a career start in LoC. He tore into him maliciously, and threw him down a flight of stairs if you don't remember or haven't heard. I honestly could care less about KKK and Rejection, the others who've been attacked before... but I want to stop the Sixth Man before he adds another victim to the count, get a hand of revenge. For family. Now. What do you gain by protecting The Faction? Are you afraid to talk without being told to by Black Tom?" The lack of answers had suddenly caused the man in the shadows to lean hard on Malik Roland now. Maybe if the man got emotional... he'd slip up and spill an answer. Though there was also a chance the Mammoth would also break something and look for the mysterious figure in the shadows to ground him and pound him.

"If you think for one second Tom has me in his back pocket like the rest of these chumps associated with 'The Faction, then you mad a terrible judgment. "Malik continued. "You have to work with me; I can't give you something for nothing. What can you possibly offer me?"

"Nothing," Malik scoffed at this response, however the voice from the shadows continued undeterred, "But the fact that if you have information that would allow me to find him before No Turning Back... everyone would be saved from what would probably prove to be another heartless attack. Including yourself. You could be next... there hasn't been an attack yet, tonight."

"So you want to be a superhero huh?"

"I'm in a position to stop him, when everyone else is either to scared, to apathetic... or possibly in on the whole thing." There was a pause, then the voice grew harder. "Though I ask the questions. So... are you the Sixth Man, Malik Roland?"

"I could ask you the same question." Malik continued. "For a man who is so virtuous, why won't you reveal yourself? Are you indeed the person in question?

"I would have liked the chance to have gotten much more physical with you, maybe even roughed you up to get some answers. Because I can only see this spiralling further into a game of questions. Proving to be to stubborn... to be answer anything, even for your own good. That's the problem with this Faction... you're rarely alone, and when you are? There's always a crowd waiting and watching your next move, and every time you must play to them... maybe there'll be a next time, a chance for a more thorough interrogation. Beware the Sixth Man, Malik Roland." Rustling could be heard at the furthest back section of the Skybox seating, as well as a metalic flash in the dark corner, where windows looked out to the side of the crowd in the upper rows.

Malik rushed up to the section of the skybox, clearing four rows at a times, making it there in seconds... and even then it was to late. The window was opened. The fan next to the window, a portly kid, ten feet down from it, just stared at amazement up at Malik Roland... and maybe another man he had just seen?

That's when the door to the skybox opened up, behind the Mammoth. Malik Roland looked down to the sixth row (the back row) skybox seat, that was in front of him, and the empty Scotch glass that sat on the stand beside it. JCON had emptied the Armadale (yes they drink vodka from a scotch glass, they're the Faction, biatch!) from it, earlier in the night.

Looking to catch the mysterious figure before he escaped out the front, that he must have got to after giving Malik the slip, Roland grabbed the glass and fastballed it at the door.

It barely missed Black Tom Williams, as it splintered into uncountable pieces. Black Tom was now on the floor, wiping the glass pits off of him, a shocked look on his face.

"WHAT IN THE DAMNED HELL ARE YOU DOIN', SON?!"

"Someone just escaped through the front door."

"I JUST CAME IN THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR! NO ONE COU--" Black Tom had made it back to his feet, and had suddenly cut off his shock and somewhat anger fuelled screaming and ranting when he realized what Malik had just said. "Wait, escape? What, boy, where you torturin' someone without lettin' Sylo or Penance in on the fun or somethin'?"

"No. It was a man interested in the Sixth Man."

"What?" Black Tom's eyes arched in annoyance, though not towards Malik... towards this man, "He try an' rough you up 'fore runnin' away?"

"Sylo himself wouldn't dare to try that." Malik replied.

"Still... I don't take to kindly, to the notion that some faceless bastard thinks he kin slip into MY arena, and my skybox, and question any member of the Faction, unwelcomed." Black Tom shock his head and balled up his fist, showing it to Roland and shaking it, as if to threaten the mystery man who had now disappeared. He hissed through gritted teeth. "I don't like that. At. All." Black Tom's balled fist turned into a pointed finger, and his mind filled with violent thoughts as he paced towards the window looking out to the arena.

We run across this man who was questioning you. This Sixth Man looks to attack any one of us. We git 'em... and we take are sweet time on 'em." Black Tom looked over his shoulder at Malik, in almost a deja vu moment, of the moment that started the segment, with so much since having happened. "Unda'stood, Malik?"

"Crystal clear."

Tonight, two men faced odds of unholy intimidation. There�s no debating that. And if you want to debate it, then we�ll just go right on ahead and put you in their shoes. You�ve got one partner, and you all are going into a battle in which you�ll be battling over 900 pounds of man-power.

Yeah, STFU, you�d have a brownie the size of an armadillo in your tights right about now�

Especially considering the (sarcasm)absolutely delightful(/sarcasm) personalities of the two behemoths that made up two thirds of the team you�d be facing. I mean, Jesus Christ, did you tea-bag Brandon Thomas while he was sleeping or something? Are you being punished?

The lights were cut.

CLICK
CLICK

�Check it out, check it out, check it out,
You got clout and your know that�

�Large in the Margin� by 311 brought the crowd to their feet, clapping for The Young Lion as he was illuminated by the lighting in the ramp. He made his way down to the ring, and it was obvious that he was in a state of concentration that was unable to be divided. He wasn�t smiles, he wasn�t playing to the crowd. This was the 2005 version of Billows, the one who was out to prove something and had no time for fun.

Except, tonight, he wasn�t here to prove that he could wrestle.

He was here to prove that he could survive.

And as much as he dreaded the pain he knew he was so surely in store for tonight, he more-so dreaded the thought of not being able to sustain the pain. Tonight was going to be something wicked, but it was going to be an opportunity that he grabbed by the balls and twisted into his manipulation.

He�d be damned if he let the numbers game affect him tonight.

As Billows tugged on the top rope and did his best to keep the firmest of firm grasps on his concentration, he heard the whisper of fog being released into the arena.

�You�ve never wanted to know me before,
Little or no association�

How did these fans keep cheering for so long? Silverchair�s �No Association� along with the fog along with the crimson tint which had been cast upon the entire arena could only mean one thing.

The Ronin was in the house.

And then, his shadow could be seen moving through the fog. The crowd went absolutely wild as Billows watched on from the ring, awaiting his partner for the evening.

The Midnight Assassin had thought just as much about this match-up as The Young Lion had. He�d be a fool to deny that the two of them were going up against three very formidable opponents. Ninja K was not a fool. In fact, you�d be the fucking fool to think he was a fool. He�s a more refined version of the old guy from Karate Kid aka Arnold from Happy Days.

Pat Morita, R.I.P. you wise old man, you.

Ninja K had no qualms about riding into battle, for he knew that when it came to destiny, failure would not come into play. He broke forth from the mist and climbed up the stairs as the crowd somehow continued cheering at an enormously loud decibel. The former Legacy Champion stepped into the ring and met his partner�s intense stare.

These two men had respect for one another. They�d stepped into the ring with one another and done battle on more than one occasion. They had, at one point, beaten one another so badly that they�d both been taking bloody shits for days.

But the fact of the matter is that they�d derived respect from one another, and their storied history is more than likely what found them together tonight. But while they would stand together as a unit on this particular evening, Revelations loomed in the back of their minds. Revelations, where it would be a bloody massacre that would see six men all involved in a match that would be an apocalyptic damage-fest of deadly proportions. They would be just two in this match, and they would not be on the same side of the battlefield.

Ninja K crossed the ring and stood in front of Billows.

Ninja K showed his respect by giving a slight bow to Billows.

�You ready?� Billows could be seen asking.

Ninja K nodded as Billows brought a fist up. The crowd couldn�t help but to roar as Ninja K brought his own fist up and shoved it into Billows�. If these two were on the same page, then they might stand a slight chance tonight.

I didn�t have to come to LoC to become a superstar...I brought my spotlight with me�

The audible tsunami of cheers would fall into hindsight with the visual eye candy of gold stars, dancing across the ominous trinity of super screens and the Arena of Champions. A select bevy of monikers would appear at random...

Pro Wrestling's Phenomenon � The Icon � The Living Legend

YOUR GOD

It's Vince Jacobs comin' down nigga, like it or not
You ain't man enough to give his fuckin' title a shot
Feel the Starbuster ruckus, Ego Checkin' ya ass
Money hungry muthafuckas gettin' wrecked in a flash
The bank accounts is thick and his pockets is fat
Peep the smirk on his face when he watchin' you tap
A 3-Count or submission, which steez you wanna go?
Cuz this muthafucka right here's the reason there's a show

Vince Jacobs stood on stage peering around the arena, posing for the fans as the pyro lit up the stage. SVJ slowly made his way to the ring wearing his trademark sunglasses. Those sunglasses hid a pair of eyes that should have never been trusted. They hid a man who had turned his back on the fans and had physically lambasted Ninja K a few weeks back. Then again, what were you really expecting from Vince Jacobs? The man wouldn�t just steal candy from a baby; if it meant a world championship, he�d steal the damned baby as well.

Ninja K watched on with a fiery intensity burning in his eyes.

SVJ gave Ninja K a quick chuckle as the fans continued raining down boos on The Living Legend. SVJ was pretty damned comfortable with what side of the war he found himself on tonight, and being so contented, pointed at the two men in the ring and shook his head before holding his arms out to his side.

�Don't fret precious I'm here, step away from the window
Go back to sleep

Lay your head down child
I won't let the boogeyman come

Counting bodies like sheep
To the rhythm of the war drums�

The crowd couldn�t have been booing any louder as The Superbeast and Penance came stomping out from the back, obviously ready to maim some poor souls tonight. Lagging a bit behind was Angelique�the boys were obviously in the mood to destroy, and she didn�t feel like getting in the way of destruction.

Fucking hell,

Ffffffucking hell.

That�s all you�d be thinking if you were standing in the ring watching these two colossal monsters shove their way past SVJ, ignoring him because they were too busy with other motives that pertained more directly to, well�uhm�you and the rearrangement of your effing face.

That�s why you really had to give credit where credit was due.

Because, where as most grown men would have been out of the gee-dee arena, Billows and Ninja K stood their ground. Outside of the ring.

They were brave, but they weren�t stupid. They were not going to rush into battle head-first, they wouldn�t fling themselves into a numbers game where the advantage wasn�t in their favor. As Penance and Sylo had climbed up separate steps into the ring, Billows and Ninja K had stepped out.

Sylo handed his belt to the official and joined Penance in giving Ninja K and Billows some of the scariest looks EVER. I mean, yeah, Penance has that fancy mask on, but if he was giving the same bulldog-shaming glare that Sylo was giving�it was ugly.

Billows and Ninja K made motion towards the ring, and Penance stepped forward, stomping in front of them and making it clear that it wasn�t going to be that easy to get in the ring.

Billows looked and Ninja K and held a finger up�he knew what to do.

Billows made his way around the corner and attempted to slide in from over there. NO-GO, Sylo was quick to occupy any space Billows would have had once he got inside the ring.

Billows yelled at official Mike Hunt whose reply was perfectly understandable�

��the hell you want me to do? Negotiate with them?!�

Billows cinched his eyebrows and turned around to the fans before whispering to them. The fans grew excited and nodded and Billows quickly moved away from them over to the fans in the opposite front row. He whispered to them and they began agreeing right away as well.

Sylo watched on, wondering in the back of the mind what this punk thought he was doing.

Penance remained big and scary.

SVJ leaned in the corner with a disinterested complexion.

Billows moved over to Ninja K�s ear and whispered in it. After Billows was finished, Ninja K looked at Billows and very uncharacteristically gave off a chuckle before agreeing to whatever scheme Billows had concocted.

Then, all at once, Billows and Ninja K split up, running in different directions and circling around the ring.

Sylo and Penance did their best to focus on one of the two men, but it was more difficult than one would think.

�NOW!� Billows screamed.

Billows and Ninja K were parallel to one another on opposite sides of the ring. And on opposite sides of the ring, fans held out their chairs.

Billows grabbed a chair and Ninja K grabbed a chair before quickly hopping up onto the apron.

Billows leveled Sylo as Ninja K more or less simultaneously nailed Penance.

CLANK!
CLANK!

The fans roared as the two biggest men in the ring were forced stumbling backwards. Billows and Ninja K dropped their chairs and climbed into the ring.

DING
DING
DING

Ninja K and Billows focused on Penance first, bombarding him with punches until they�d backed him up to the ropes.

The two partners leapt into the air at the same time and they both simultaneously extended their legs.

The doubled-impact of the Dropkick multiplied by two sent Penance over the top rope and out of the ring!

Well then, that wasn�t so hard.

Billows and Ninja K turned around to see that the Superbeast was charging at them, full-steam ahead.

Ninja K fell to the mat, latching onto the top rope and tugging it down about a foot. He hoped that Billows would prove to be the quick-thinker that everyone knew he was.

Billows looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment before hunching over�

Billows drove his shoulder into the abdomen of Sylo before hoisting the big man up and over with a Back Body Drop!!!

The crowd went bananas, showing their approval for Billows� show of strength. Not only could the kid fly high and get down and dirty with technical wrestlers�he held quite a bit of power in his 260 pound frame.

And this power was called upon to send Sylo helplessly to the outside. Wait, �SYLO� and �HELPLESSLY� used in the same sentence? Yes, you read right.

Ninja K looked at Billows, impressed by the strength that the Young Lion had just activated, the Ronin raised a single eyebrow.

Billows chanced a confident chuckle, �Somebody�s been hitting the weights, Kenshiro.�

Billows tossed his hair out of his eyes and looked behind Ninja K, glancing SVJ who had been standing in his team�s corner, lingering on the apron, unimpressed. Ninja K whipped around to face SVJ, and The Superstar was actually arrogant enough to look at Ninja K and yawn.

Ninja K quickly directed Billows� attention to the outside where Sylo and Penance where already climbing to their feet, and then the Ronin proceeded to march towards SVJ. Vince Jacobs was already climbing through the ropes to meet K.

Billows leapt up onto the ropes, facing Sylo and Penance. His balance was impeccable, for if there had been the slightest lack of comfort, Billows didn�t show it. The crowd watched on with hanging jaws as Billows leapt up and spun 180 degrees before driving his feet into the ropes and recoiling backwards with an Asai Moonsault.

The crowd stood, and cried out in horror as Sylo caught Billows and lifted him into the air. Penance helped Sylo gain momentum(like he really needed the helping hand).

SPLAT!

The two monsters had just double-teamed Billows with a devastating Spike Piledriver on the outside.

Was it time already? Was it? Was it?

�Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! Holy Shit!�

Keith Kane couldn�t pass it up, �Blessed feces! I think Billows is effing dead, Tony!�

�NOWNOW�I�.ughhhhh�that was quite a brutal piledriver. And the �protective mats� are paper-thin, Keith. Billows very well COULD BE dead.� Stone hated to admit.

Superstar Vince Jacobs was an in-ring mastermind. He was an athlete who had a style all his own. When you combined these two qualities and wrapped them up in one package, you had a very dangerous package. A dangerous package that, if left on a doorstep with no return address, should probably be reported to the bomb squad. SVJ was explosive, yeah, that�s it. See, here in LoC, we�ve got all kinds of fancy ways of being all metaphorical and shit too. It ain�t shit, easy as pie.

But, anyways�SVJ was intelligent, and he�d just seen a whole side of things that Ninja K had missed completely. The Living Legend and The Midnight Assassin meant in the center of the ring and Ninja K immediately got nose to nose with Jacobs and stared deep into his calloused soul.

SVJ was jaw-jacking Ninja K like there was no tomorrow, more or less buying time until�

Penance nearly parted Ninja K�s skull from his neck with a Clothesline that found SVJ quickly moving out of the way of a falling Ronin.

SVJ wore a wicked smile as he rediscovered his spot on the apron.

Ninja K started to rise to his feet, but Penance quickly ended that attempt with a Running Knee Lift.

Having delivered a few unnecessary stomps to the Young Lion, Sylo had climbed up onto the apron, next to SVJ.

It looked like Penance would be starting things out for his team.

Penance. Sylo. Superstar Vince Jacobs.

Was there really a �good bet� in that bunch? I mean, c�mon now, who would you want to start off against? Penance is a scary muscle of a man with an ugly mask. Sylo is a scary muscle of a man with an ugly mug and blue hair. Superstar Vince Jacobs can be one of the most cold and calculating figures in the ring.

If you were Ninja K at the moment, you didn�t really have an easy way out when it came to your opponents� line-up for the evening. And considering your partner was laying on the outside of the ring, likely counting the stars inhabiting his vision at the moment�you could actually feel a bit fucked right now and be justified in feeling that way.

Penance backed up from Ninja K, cocking his head at an angle that made him look much like a perplexed puppy dog. It was an eerie way of sizing The Ronin up, but that�s exactly what was happening.

Ninja K managed to get to his feet and was rising to a complete stance when Penance rushed for him and extended his big boot up in the air!!

Ninja K side-stepped it and grabbed Penance�s leg and forced him backwards a few hops before having him stumble down to the ground and come to lean against the ropes.

The Ronin was merciless in driving a few swift kicks into the rear of Penance�s thigh. The monster clutched at his leg, but Ninja K would hear nothing of it as he extended the leg and quickly pushed it forward before running forward a step or two and driving his knee into the pit of Penance�s knee.

Ninja K was forced to let go when Penance began shaking in a frantic pain. It looked like even monsters could succumb to the tightening of a muscle�nothing beat the pain of a Charlie Horse.

Ninja K heard the crowd booing too late and he felt himself being hugged from behind seconds before he found his arms crossed and his wrists clutched tightly.

Sylo had come up behind the Ronin and proceeded to deliver a mighty Belly to Back Crossed Arms Suplex.

BOOOOOOO!

They crowd was furious with The Destroyer. To think that they�d been so strongly behind him at one point�now�he was nothing but a turncoat to them. He didn�t care though. He never cared. He would never care. They were faceless nothings to him.

Mike Hunt finally grew some balls and stepped in front of Sylo, forbidding him to cause any further harm to Ninja K.

Sylo looked down at official Mike Hunt and then stared at Ninja K. Finally, Sylo noted that Penance was rising, and he went ahead and stepped back onto the apron.

When Sylo turned around on the apron, he saw in the ring that Ninja K had revived rather quickly.

As if that wasn�t shocking enough�

Billows wasn�t dead.

Sylo couldn�t help but to be impressed, Billows had already managed to work up the adrenaline to be back into the mix of things. Let it be known now that Sylo realized Billows had an impressive threshold for pain.

Billows extended his hand and Ninja K slid through the open legs of the monster Penance. Slapping Billows� hand, Ninja K proceeded to drive his toes into the pits of Penance�s knees.

He fell forward, a giant redwood fell by an axe injected into directly the right spot.

Billows hopped into the ring and grabbed onto one of Penance�s legs as Ninja K grabbed onto the other. WISHBONE SPLIT!

Penance might have been a monster, but you can bet that he still had a set on him, and that move had certainly succeeded in sending a shockwave of pain through him.

Sylo had found his way into the ring, and after pushing his way past the referee, he went for the closest target who just so happened to be Billows.

�HEADS UP K!� Billows yelled.

Billows ducked underneath a Clothesline from Sylo just as Ninja K leapt up in the air and came at Sylo with a Flying Thrust Kick.

Sylo saw the foot coming and he slid his head out of the way, catching Ninja K in a bad predicament. The Ronin�s foot was uncomfortably stuck in place as Sylo lifted Ninja K up and ran forward, looking for an apparent variation of a Powerbomb.

Ninja K brought his other leg up and locked it around Sylo�s back before pulling with all his might.

HURRICARANA!!!

For the second time tonight, Sylo had been taken to the outside of the ring!!! And it just so happened that Ninja K had gone with him.

Meanwhile, in the ring, Billows had somehow managed to tie the massive Penance up in an Octopus Hold!

The referee was busy surveying the chaos that had occurred on the outside of the ring, like normal referees, he was entranced by anything other than the match taking place INSIDE the ring. SVJ took note of this.

In a turn of events that resembled something out of the funnies, a scene that could have put the mischievous Mr. Bean to shame, a scene that drew enormous heat from the crowd�

Superstar Vince Jacobs double-checked to make sure that Ninja K was out of working order for the time being, and then he climbed into the ring and swiftly came around behind Billows before planting a boot in his skull. Billows relinquished the hold. SVJ pulled and tugged and struggled with dragging Penance a few more feet closer to the corner before standing up straight and clapping loud.

CLAP!

Official Mike Hunt turned around and SVJ made as though he was just climbing into the ring. Poor Mike�he couldn�t understand why the crowd was so furious!

SVJ simply gave Hunt a shit-eating grin before turning his attention to The Young Lion.

Here was a fellow who, forever whatever reason, had been getting a few comparisons in style to Pro Wrestling�s Phenomenon. Apparently if you�re 260 pounds and can fly, you�re automatically in the same league as Superstar Vince Jacobs. Yeah fucking right.

SVJ tugged Billows up by his hair and held firm to The Jack of All Trades. Looking out at the crowd and snickering, SVJ proceeded to draw back a fist and drive it forcefully into Billows� cheek.

Billows stumbled backwards and SVJ let go of his chin and watched as Billows fell backwards into the ropes, leaning against them as his cheek started bleeding just a slight tad. The Superstar had delivered a hard blow and much to the crowd�s disapproval, he didn�t seem finished yet.

SVJ tugged Billows off of the ropes and whipped him across the ring before bending over for a Back Body Drop.

The crowd cheered as Billows managed to put on the brakes just short of SVJ, and they went ballistic when The Young Lion brought a quick boot up into SVJ�s face.

They were starting to rally behind him as he lifted SVJ up and over his shoulders�

CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB!

OOOH�.noooooOOOOO!

SVJ slipped off of Billows shoulders�

OOOH NOOO! BOOOOOOO

And brought his leg up backwards, nailing Billows where it counts.

The crowd was adamant in their hatred for SVJ as he stood there for a moment smiling at them with an evil smirk that could be translated to: �YEAH, I did it because I can, you shits.�

The referee had somehow missed it.

Perhaps because he�d been occupied with a certain ninja sliding into the ring.

SVJ turned around, planning to pin Billows.

VENGEFUL SPIRITS!

�NIN-JA K! NIN-JA K! NIN-JA K!�

The crowd was behind The Midnight Assassin, and he had managed to force SVJ into the corner with the Ninjitsu rush.

Ninja K turned around and sprinted to the other side of the ring, the crowd didn�t warn him well enough and�

Ninja K turned around, running full-speed for SVJ, he couldn�t avoid the Big Boot from Penance!!!

BOOOOO!!!
YEAAAAH!!!

The crowd had just shifted gears a little too abruptly�even Penance could figure that out.

HUH?

Penance turned around�

L.O.S.T. KICK!!!!!

In the skybox, Black Tom was tearing out handfuls of hair. The Young Lion had just dropped the massive Penance!

Billows stood above Penance and shot his stare into the heavens before extending his arms out, The Young Lion gave out a roar that had the crowd standing on their tippy-toes.

SHIT!

Sylo had literally come-out of nowhere!

He hooked Billows head from behind and lifted him up in the air for a Reverse Suplex, but Billows kicked his feet frantically and managed to shift the balance of things.

Billows came back down to the ground and Sylo�s head was snapped back from the � Facelock Bulldog!

Billows stood up and turned just in time to have Sylo�s big paws come down around his neck. His air passages forced closed, Billows was being suspended in the air by his neck as Sylo choked him.

Billows kicked at Sylo desperately before trying a Bell-Clap!

No-Go.

Billows punched Sylo twice, but Sylo was hell-bent on strangling Billows.

His energy diminishing�Billows made one last stand.

OH
MY
GOD

Billows had just released a loogey that happened to land squarely on Sylo�s forehead. Sylo dropped Billows and took two slow steps backwards before bringing his hand up to his face. It seemed as though Sylo could not fathom what had just transpired. He could not believe that The Young Lion had just reared back and SPIT IN HIS FUCKING FACE!

The crowd was silent for a moment, and Billows could be heard hacking. He was on all fours, looking ready to throw up.

The crowd couldn�t help but to come back to life, though, as Ninja K had gathered his head enough to climb to his feet.

Sylo wiped the spit from his face and was now ready to rip Billows apart piece by piece, but just as he looked up�

Ninja K had used Billows as a springboard of sorts and he flew through the air, targeting The Superbeast.

THE VICTIMIZER!

Ninja K hit the canvas as Sylo stumbled forward two feet before falling to all fours.

Unfortunate for ole� smurf-head, his head was right in range for Billows to�

CRACK!

Billows had been on all fours when Sylo had fallen, and Sylo had fallen in the same position Billows was in. Sylo was a bit dazed, though, and Billows lifted one limb off the ground and clenched tight before rearing back and giving Sylo a hard right hand.

The punch didn�t seem to faze the big man much, but then Billows showed a vicious rage that the crowd had never seen out of The Young Lion

HEADBUTT!!!

HEADBUTT!!!

�COME ON SUPERBEAST!�

HEADBUTT!!!

Billows was ramming his own head into Sylo�s with enough force t knock out a Mountain Goat.

HEADBU�

Billows� head was suddenly kept from moving. Some kind of bizarre force beyond his control�

ORRRRRR�Penance�s massive paw.

Penance quickly clubbed Billows from behind as the crowd booed.

Ninja K advanced to help his partner, but he found himself being pulled to the mat. The Icon had quit his game of possum and had quickly clutched onto a handful of Ninja K�s hair.

The crowd was furious now as SVJ whipped The Ronin backwards, slamming him into the canvas.

Official Mike Hunt had, officially, lost control of this match. Chaos had broken out, and his best chance of surviving the anarchy was to sit back and wait to count the victory for somebody.

�HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!�

Penance had hugged Billows from behind and the monster had proceeded to lift Billows up and over with a Release German Suplex. The move itself wasn�t the cause of the chants�it was all directed at the fact that Penance had THROWN BILLOWS OVER THE TOP FUCKING ROPE WITH THE MOVE!

Billows could have very well been dead (for the second time in this match, in case you�re counting) if not for the quick rising and falling of his chest, and while the crowd was more than concerned for The Jack of All Trades, their attention was occupied with what was transpiring inside the ropes.

Ninja K was alone in the ring with three men who had held no good intentions for The Midnight Assassin. He was alone, and at the moment, he was vulnerable.

Sylo had found his way to his feet and stood with Penance and SVJ, surrounding a downed Ninja K.

SVJ started to make motions as if to lift Ninja K up, but Sylo shouldered his way in front of SVJ and lifted The Ronin onto his shoulder as SVJ watched a bit frustrated at being pushed out of the way.

The Destroyer looked at Penance and pointed to the masked monster�s boot before backing up and rushing forward with Ninja K still arranged on his shoulder. Penance got the picture rather quickly and lifted his leg up.

Sylo rammed Ninja K�s spine into Penance�s Big Boot!

The Ronin was let go of, allowed to fall to the ground in sheer agony.

The two monsters went to work, putting the boots to Ninja K. SVJ kept trying to work his way into the fray, but he kept getting blocked out.

The Living Legend sneered before hastily making his way to the corner and hopping up to the top turnbuckle.

�HEY!� He yelled.

It worked, Sylo and Penance both turned their attention to The Superstar and wisely moved out his way.

FIVE STAR!!!!

SVJ made the pin.

1�

2�

3!!!
NO!!!!

Sylo had ripped The Ratings Grabber off of Ninja K, shocking the crowd as well as SVJ. The Superstar had risen to his feet in a split-second, and he was bravely getting ALL UP IN THE SUPERBEAST�S GRILL.

�What the hell do you think you�re doing?!� SVJ demanded to know.

�THIS ISN�T OVER UNTIL I SAY IT�S OVER!� Sylo growled.

The crowd was cheering, and SVJ seemed to be the only one to pick up on just why they were crying out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Billows pulling himself up onto the apron.

SVJ looked at Sylo, �Yeah? And who put you in charge of things?�

�I�m always in charge of things.� Sylo stated.

Billows had somehow managed to climb to his feet and he was making his way up the turnbuckle, completely unbeknownst to Sylo and Penace.

SVJ smirked, �Yeah�except for when Black Tom is nailing you from behind and making you his blue-haired bitch!�

Sylo took a step backwards when SVJ pulled a fist back, and Penance was immediately in the mix. He stepped forward and shoved Vince Jacobs backwards, but SVJ immediately came back.

SUPTERSTAR KICK

The crowd went ballistic, and Sylo showed off an uncharacteristic emotion.

Shock.

Penance spun around and wobbled just into range for The Young Lion who had been lying in wait. Now, he moved in with predatory instinct.

THE HEADACHE MACHINE!

Penance hit the ground as the crowd continued churning with absolute glee at what they were seeing. The world was crumbling down around The Superbeast, and judging from the expression on his face�he knew it.

Sylo grimaced at SVJ before making motion to turn his attention towards The Young Lion.

As Sylo turned around he came face-to-boot with:

THE TEMPORAL SHIFT!

Ninja K had come out of nowhere with the move and, catching The Destroyer by surprise, he had gotten the big man down on his knees.

SVJ chuckled at Sylo before quietly climbing onto the apron and hopping down to the outside. He slowly began backing up the ramp, watching the decimation of The Superbeast.

Billows and Ninja K both sized Sylo up.

CRACK!

OUCH!

The two men had simultaneously delivered stiff kicks which uncovered a color other than blue in Sylo. He spit a bit of blood out as he fell forward to the mat.

The crowd was going ballistic. It looked like Billows and Ninja K were going to overcome the odds!

Ninja K patted Billows on the back and pointed to the two men who were down and out in the ring before he took it upon himself to slide out of the ring and go after SVJ who, upon seeing he was being followed, braced himself for The Ronin.

�WHAT ARE YOU DOING, K?!� Billows stood at the ropes, screaming after his partner.

Ninja K turned around, �You�ve got this one!�

But that wasn�t the point. Billows watched as Ninja K and SVJ engaged in a brawl on the stage that soon ended up seeing both men through the curtain into the backstage area. Billows had been deserted by his partner. He watched the empty ramp for a few more moments, obviously frustrated that Ninja K had left the ring.

The crowd started to boo.

Billows turned around, fearing the worst.

And the worst was worth fearing.

Penance grabbed Billows and lifted him up above his head, some of the fans had already covered their eyes.

FINAL JUDGEMENT

NO!

Billows managed to get a few blows landed to delay Penance just long enough�

The crowd watched on as Billows put his palms on Penance�s head and pushed himself up off Penance�s shoulders and over him. Coming down behind Penance, Billows wrapped his hands around the monster�s neck and grabbed hold of his chin.

REVERSE � FACELOCK BULLDOG!

�BILL-OWS! BILL-OWS! BILL-OWS!� The crowd couldn�t help but to be impressed by what they�d just witnessed.

SPLIT-LEGGED MOONSAULT!

Billows hooked Penance�s leg.

1!

2!

3!!!!

NO!!!!!!!

DAMMIT!!!

The Superbeast wasn�t an ordinary man, and thus, he�d been able to gather himself back together in time to climb to his feet and stop Billows from getting the upset.

Sylo lifted Billows up and whipped him off the ropes. On the rebound, Sylo sent Billows soaring up into the air!

BLOOD LUST!

NO!

Billows managed to redistribute his weight while in the air, rotating on the X-axis, he drove his feet into Sylo�s chest. The fans clamored for The Pride of Pennsylvania�s Dropkick.

Sylo stumbled backwards, but other than that�he hadn�t been fazed one bit. He waited for Billows to get to his feet�

THE SLAUGHTER!

The fans were already booing and beginning to litter the ring with garbage as Sylo made the pin.

1.

Penance had gotten to his feet and watched on as The Superbeast went through the motions of ascertaining the guaranteed victory.

2.

It might as well have already been marked in the books.

3�NO!

BILLOWS KICKED OUT!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!
!!!!
!!!
!!
!

The crowd lost it at this point. There was still hope. That�s all that mattered�was that there was still hope for their Sensation to come out of this with the victory.

Sylo was in a fitful rage as he got to his feet.

He grabbed Penance by the bottom of his mask and pulled him close, �GRAB THAT FUCKER AND HOLD HIM TIGHT! DO NNNNOT LET GO!�

Penance did as he�d been instructed to, lifting Billows to his feet, and making sure he remained standing as Sylo charged forward.

BIG BOOT!

The crowd groaned as Billows head whipped violently backwards, nearly catching Penance in the chin. Penance kept a hold of The Young Lion, keeping him on his feet.

Sylo backed up again.

BIG BOOT!

Another one and Billows� legs seemed to crumble underneath of him. The only thing keeping him in a vertical position was Penance�s huge arms.

BIG BOOT!

The third one had done it, and Sylo nodded at Penance who dropped The Jack of All Trades.

Sylo pinned Billows one more.

1.

2.

3.

NO!!!

What.

The.

Fuck?

Billows, somehow, someway, had just barely gotten his foot up on the bottom rope.

�I WILL BREAK YOU!� Sylo screamed in pure unbridled rage as he climbed to his feet.

TAP THE FUCK OUT!

Sylo had it locked in, and the referee was immediately down on the ground practically begging Billows to end the chaos. Billows� fists were both clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, but he refused to tap out.

The crowd began cheering as Ninja K emerged from behind the curtain. Sylo didn�t notice him. Penance didn�t notice him. Billows sure as fuck didn�t have the necessary level of consciousness to notice him.

But Angelique noticed him. She meant to say something sooner, but couldn�t speak up until the Ronin was in the ring.

�SYLO! SYLLLO!� Angelique called out.

Sylo yelled out in pure rage. For whatever reason, Angelique had distracted him, and he sure as fuck didn�t appreciate that. Sylo let go of The Young Lion and climbed to his feet, turning to Angelique.

�WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, YOU BITCH!?� Sylo screamed.

The crowd offered up the obligatory �ooooooh�, as Penance came up next to Sylo and grunted at him. The grunt more or less said, �hey nucka, don�t you talk to my ho like �dat, �less you wanna get blasted!�

�GET OUT OF MY FACE, BURNT-BOY!� Sylo was beside himself.

At this point, it was realized that the elements were finally breaking through that thick skin of Sylo�s. Even though he would come out to the ring and dominate motherfucker�s souls, he still had a lot of pent-up aggression, and it was currently being released upon the shoulders of Angelique and Penance.

YEAAAAAAH!

Sylo had just turned around when Ninja K chose to attack. The Ronin had ran forward at full-speed and had proceeded to nail Sylo with a Cross-Body Block that found the two men falling wildly to the outside.

Angelique just barely escaped getting squashed by the two men.

Penance stared down at Sylo and The Ronin, and in his mind, he felt Sylo got what he deserved.

WAIT-WHAT?!

Penance had been caught off guard, and the crowd was roaring.

How had he done it? After all the pain that Sylo had just dealt unto him, how had Billows found the energy to do what he just did?!

It was heart. Plain and simple.

Billows had dug deep and had managed to get up behind Penance and roll him up into a pin.

1�

2�

Angelique was beside herself as she tried to climb onto the apron, hoping to grab Penance�s leg and place it on the bottom rope. But Ninja K managed to latch onto her ankle and hinder her from accomplishing said task.

3!!!!

IT WAS OVER!!!

BILLOWS AND NINJA K HAD OVERCOME THE ODDS!!!

The crowd was going wild�absolutely crazy for The Midnight Assassin and The Jack of All Trades.

Penance climbed to his feet, not at all worried about the fact that he�d just lost the match for his team. Penance was more worried about Angelique and the fact that The Ronin had soiled her skin with his touch.

That�s when SVJ returned back onto the scene, and now he had back-up in the form of a steel chair. He ran down to ringside, and before Penance knew what was going on, SVJ had walloped the monster with the chair.

CLANK!!!

�THAT�S FOR TRYING TO OUTSHINE THE SUPERSTAR!!!� SVJ yelled, obviously in regards to Penance and Sylo limiting his in-ring time tonight.

SVJ turned around, his back to the ring, and he stared down at Ninja K.

�THIS IS FOR THINKING YOU CAN RUN ME OFF!� Vince screamed.

SVJ drew the chair of his head, holding it behind him, ready to deliver a mighty swing upon the downed Ninja K.

CLANK!

The crowd roared!

Billows had managed to find his way to his feet and had expended the last of his energy in nailing the chair with a Baseball Slide, driving it into the back of SVJ�s skull. The Icon stumbled forward and fell to the ground, wincing in pain.

Billows remained on the mat, staring at the ceiling and breathing heavy. He was exasperated. Suddenly he felt himself being tugged out of the ring. Next thing he knew, he was outside of the ring, resting with his legs draped over The Superbeast�s shoulders.

The Three Faces Of Sin

The last powerbomb had witnessed Sylo slam Billows into the barricade with such force that it actually moved towards the fans a foot or two.

�HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!�

The crowd offered up a mixed reaction as another face in the Legacy Title picture emerged from backstage and ran down to ring-side.

Sylo heard the commotion from the fans and he turned around to get nailed with a Running Shoulderblock from The Equalizer.

Ray Chavez

Sylo stumbled backwards for a split-second before unwisely choosing to rush forward.

SPINEBUSTER!

The crowd cheered as Chavez just barely lifted Sylo up off the ground before slamming him down. The Equalizer stood up and looked out at the crowd with a sneer.

Why were they cheering?

THE BUSHIDO BOMB!!!!

Ninja K had come out of nowhere and proceeded to nail The Equalizer. The Ronin looked at the mess of bodies laid about just outside of the ring. He noticed that SVJ and Penance were already starting to show motion, and having been a part of the match he�d just been a part of�he didn�t really feel like waiting around for chaos to reinstate itself.

Kenshiro hopped over the barricade into the conglomeration of roaring fans. He took a few steps forward before turning around and catching a glimpse of the motionless body that belonged to the man who had served valiantly as his partner on this eve.

Ninja K realized that the man had saved him from a vicious chair-shot from one SVJ, and he decided against leaving the man for the hounds to feed upon.

Kenshiro hopped back over the barricade and grabbed The Young Lion. Lifting him to his feet, Ninja K spoke to The Young Lion, welcoming him back to the realm of consciousness. Billows was bruising already, and the back of his head was bleeding a tad from the impact with the barricade�but he was able to walk.

Ninja K led the way back over the barricade and up through the crowd as Billows followed in tow. Once the two men reached the top of the stairs that led to the main hallway of the arena, they turned around.

Their stares were met with the cold glare of The Destroyer. He stood at the barricade seething and staring a hole through the two men who had somehow managed to gain a victory over him.

Penance started to get up.

Then SVJ.

Then Ray Chavez.

Sylo let out a roar that echoed throughout the entire arena before turning around and leveling Ray Chavez.

Billows and Ninja K took deep breaths before turning around and taking their leave.

They�d left just in time, for soon after�the chaos reinstated itself.

And so, Violence would close with just that�violence. Violence fueled by greed and rage. Greed and rage acted upon due to one thing. One possession.

A very prized possession.

The Legacy Title.

It was worn around the waist of The Destroyer, but upon witnessing the war being waged as Violence came to a close, one had to wonder�just how much longer would the belt belong The Superbeast?

Were his days numbered?

Would The Destroyer be destroyed?

Only time would tell�

Winner: Ryan Billows & Ninja K.

THE SIXTH MAN: THE FOURTH VICTIM

Though before time told too much...

The night wasn't over quite yet.

Well, it was for some, I suppose.

Not for everyone.

As the screen went to static after the LoC logo hit at the end of the broadcast, the static lingered for a few moments. Several seconds passed before a picture jolted the screen back to life, as if a camera feed was struggling through the television cords. The quick picture was of an empty ring, fans clearing out of the arena, all the men that where in the ring... SVJ, Penanace, Sylo, Ryan Billows, Ninja K and Ray Chavez had now gone off to there locker room.

All but one.

A camera feed now came to life in the gorilla position, and started following a trail down the steps, around the cords and the like. Scott Riktor and Black Tom Williams where seen having a heated discussion about what happened at the climax of the main event, in front of a few black and white monitors at the top of the stairs. As the camera made it to the bottom of the stairs, a hand print could be seen in blood at the bottom of the steps.

Possibly one of the competitors, who had been broken open during the main event, had slipped at the bottom of the steps... still a little woozy from his blood loss in the... by no, no one had bled during the big five-man tag match. Except for Billows that is, after taking the Three Faces of Sin from Sylo, opening up the back of his head a good bit. The men involved had put themselves to the limit... but nothing they had done, would explain this.

Or the bloody hand print after it.

Or the hand print, some five feet further down the hall, smeared against the wall.

Save Billows. The camera rushed now, more hurriedly down the blackened corridor. Until it tripped upon a leg poking out from through the last of the black curtains. The foot of a black boot. A shaking hand reached for the edge of the curtain to pull it aside and possibly reveal who the foot belonged.

There was a heavy amount of dread in the air, doubt that this would be anything but good tidings. The attack hadn't happened this show... it was thought to have passed over for unknown reasons. Maybe because of the heat of a mysterious man, who had started to make noise about the Sixth Man in the name of Latrell Samuel, of all people... Latrell Samuel.

The curtain was pulled... to show the inevitable.

A man laying, unconscious on top of a tangle of blue electrical cables. Covered in his own blood. Some of the cables where wrapped around his neck, they where once taught and strung against his throat but they had since loosened. The cable was also strung behind his back, from hand to hand, as if his hands where also strung together. His knee was tucked into a chair, between the badly dented seat and the backing, in what must have been an especially painful part of the attack. Possibly.

If the chair hadn't been dented across his head enough times to break him open and knock him out.

Across this man's chest where those numbers...

1

2

3

4

5

6

Edging ever closer to the sixth and final victim on the eve of No Turning Back. This man, the fourth victim, was not Ryan Billows. It was...

That's when the situation donned on those in LoC. Chavez was powerful, Chavez was political... and in part because of these two things, he was also infamously one of the four Legacy title contenders. Along with the Sixth Man. So now the Legacy title contenders weren�t even safe. This had been seen as a threat to all those involved in the Legacy title game. SVJ, Ryan Billows, Ninja K and the Legacy Champion Sylo... along with Ray Chavez.

This dangerous bodycountdown, had just turned into a physical threat for those involved in the Legacy title fight.

And once again, an enemy of The Faction had seemingly been targeted.

Who. Was. The. Sixth. Man?

Many wanted to know, as events continued to race towards there peak.

Even more people in the shadows entered the fray.

And the Legacy of Champions, and it's Legacy title picture, continued to because even more chaotic.

RUN CREDITS

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