A video package flickers on across the screen, showing the new breed of the OWF.

Press on these tannins
They double in time
The touch of life, once failed to mention so far

Of course the law is fountains
Or face to face remorse
A fast and restless blackmail
Like pent-up fetish force

The video shows highlights of the past year in the OWF, dating up to the latest events at Campus Chaos, and recent Addictions.

You're right, I get it
It all makes sense, you're the perfect person
So right, so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

Do you want enough?
Do you want it all?
Should you need it at all?
Takes a minute to see
Do you want enough?
Do you want it all?
Should you need it at all?
Do you want it or not?

As the vocals fade out, the logo of the OWF is fixated on the screen before fading out to black.

To open the show, the cameras cut to the very well lit and sold out Mohegan Sun Arena. The feed quickly cuts to the announcers booth, as a somber look is seen across all three announcers' faces.

Falcoon - I hate starting off the show like this...

Kissens - Well, it's our obligation.

Dunn - That is true.

Falcoon - Fans, we're about to be joined by The Phoenix via direct link from his home in Maryland.

Kissens - Hopefully to get some answers on his condition following that vicious lack of conscience that he suffered through in the match with our Champion.

Dunn - That's right OUR Champion.

Falcoon - Dunn... Shut the hell up.

Kissens - Let's get him hooked up here, if we can.

The OWF-Tron immediately springs to life, and once again we see the familiar figure of the PDA Champion, resting at his home. The fans' reaction seems muted at best, as they don't quite know what to expect.

Kissens - Thank you for joining us, Will.

The Phoenix remains silent.

Falcoon - So I guess the most obvious question is simply: what now?

The Phoenix - It's simple. I'm done. I've been told that another few seconds in that move would have killed me at Quest for the Best. So the answer is real simple—despite what I want, I need to step away. I need to have the surgery, let my neck and body recover, and from there...who knows? I do have a few points I want to address first, though, and if you'll let me have the run of the floor, I'll get them done in short order and you can go back to the action these fans paid to see.

There is a slight pause as Phoenix gathers his thoughts.

The Phoenix - First off, the matter of the PDA Championship. Obviously, I am not going to be able to defend the title in the state I'm in. After several phone conversations with President Specter, we've come to an agreement. When I first came to OWF back in October, I told President Johnson that I would defend the belt as needed, and to treat me as a member of the roster until such time as I lost the belt or that our inter-promotional deal was done. He promised me that he would find a way to make it up to me. I'm invoking that right immediately, as I have not brought it up since that moment in time, and despite President Johnson no longer being with us.

The camera zooms in on Phoenix's face as he speaks.

The Phoenix - Because I am vacating the belt, I do not feel that it should simply be given to the Number One Contender, whom at last check was Trent Steel. After all, being the contender means you have a shot to win the belt, not that you should automatically win the thing. Thus, I have requested that the title be put on the line in an Open Invitational match, with a special set of rules: namely, a Hazardous Ladder Match. For those of you unfamiliar with the rules of a Hazardous Ladder Match, let me explain. Several ladders will surround the ring. All of them, except for one, will be rigged to break when more than just standard weight is placed upon them, making climbing those ladders impossible. The person to ascend the one ladder that is not sabotaged and pull down the title belt will be crowned the new OWF PDA Champion.

There is another pause as Phoenix closes his eyes for a moment, breathing as deep as he possibly can.

The Phoenix - I will be in discussions with NLW President Eriq Mobely as to the fate of the other title I hold, the NLW Anarchy X Championship. When NLW reopens in the near future, that particular matter will be addressed then. That leaves only one more point I'd like to address. It's time to shoot, so those of you who may be easily offended may wish to leave the room.

He waits a few seconds before finally addressing the camera.

The Phoenix – So, Mr. Big Shot. Yeah, Jesse, I'm talking to you and your over-inflated ego, so stop looking in the fucking mirror and pay attention. You know, when I first came here in September, I actually had some respect for you. Now, you're not even worthy of being the scum at the bottom of a community toilet. You lost all of my respect when you tried to kill me at Quest for the Best, all because your ego couldn't stand the thought that someone was legitimately better than you. You know, I know, and everyone watching around the world knows that the only way you could beat me was in such a cheap, sadistic manner, weakened neck or not. I also know that you're going to crow about this like you won a third title, like the megalomaniac you are. For that, Jesse, I will take great pleasure in watching your ego destroy what remains of the OWF, because I know it's only a matter of time. All of the other wrestlers, the fans, and the company itself will crumble just for the needs of your ego. And when the OWF is no more, brought to its' very knees by the man who all but resorted to manslaughter in order to keep ten pounds of leather, gold, and marble...I will be watching and I will shake my head at the fact that one man's need to feel superior to everyone was what brought down one of the most well-known promotions in wrestling today.

At this, the camera once more zooms in to Phoenix's face, his countenance very serious.

The Phoenix – This last point is for all of the fans—the TRUE OWF and NLW fans out there. It's quite simply a request. If you're as fed up as the rest of the fans that I've talked to are with Williams as the champion, then simply walk away. Boycott any segment, any match, any press conference or interview that he is a part of. By basically ignoring him, you're going to hurt his ego even more than by throwing trash at him. Show your displeasure in the one way that no one can ignore: by simply not being a part of anything the son of a motherless goat does. Let him wrestle in an empty arena. If he wins, who's going to be there to watch him stroke his ego? His would-be family has forsaken him. He's forsaken the fans. It's time we did the same.

The look remains on Phoenix's face before the OWF-Tron abruptly cuts to black, and the shot returns to the announcers.

Falcoon - How the hell do you start a show following that?

Dunn - Easy. You go "AHHHOOOOOOOO" and then I go "I hate when you do that!".

Kissens - James, seriously. You're about one step away from getting bitchslapped.

Falcoon - Have you no class, James?

Dunn - I have class, I just respect talent when I see it.

Kissens - The Phoenix is one of the most talented guys around, y'all. And now he's out of action, probably for good.

Falcoon - It makes me sick.

Dunn - Whatever, you guys are ridiculous. If Jesse was the one hurt, you'd both be laughing and cheering.

Kissens - Probably.

Dunn - That makes you a hypocrit.

Kissens - I'd rather be a hypocrit than a heart-less asshole like you or Jesse.

The tense situation between the announcers only thickens as silence envelops the telecast.

Falcoon - We're not getting anywhere bickering.

Dunn - No kidding.

Falcoon - I think it's time we get to some action. And for that, we have a pretaped match from the Quest For The Best Pay Per View that we're going to show you all now.

Kissens - Good.

Dunn - Great!

Falcoon - So, lets send you to that now -- and hopefully our nerves will calm by the time it's done.

The video from Quest For The Best plays on the OWF-Tron, showing us back in Madison Square Garden. The camera is fixated on Missy Janson, who stands tall in the middle of the ring with a microphone in her hand. Not all of the fans have arrived to the arena yet, but a majority of them have already.

Missy Janson - The following match is a preshow match, taped for a later showing. It is scheduled for a one-fall with a thirty minute time limit.

Missy pauses as the near capacity crowd give a nice ovation.

Missy Janson - Coming to the ring first, from East Rutherford, New Jersey... GI!

Lights go out as "Undead" by Hollywood Undead blares through the speakers. Images of GI flash across the titan tron and then suddenly the lights shine bright and pyro shoots from the stage as GI walks out.

You better get up out the way,
Tomorrow we'll rise so we fight today,
Ya no, I don't give a fuck what you think and say,
'Cause we gonna rock this whole place anyway.

GI slides into the ring and climbs to the top rope to play to the crowd.

Now I see that motherfucker writin' on the wall
When you see, J-3-T,
Thirty deep he's down to brawl
Fuck those haters I see,
Cause I hate that you breathe,
I see you duck,
You little punk,
You little fucking disease

GI jumps off into the middle of the ring and points to himself as he and the audience shout "G..I..ROCKS". His music fades out and he positions himself in his corner, awaiting his opponent.

Dunn - This is GI's shot to really impress the staff.

Falcoon - He has his biggest challenge to date.

Missy lifts the microphone back up to her lips.

Missy Janson - And his opponent, from Green Bay, Wisconsin... Drake Munday!

Drake Munday comes down to the ring, upon entry he looks around nervously at the crowd. Examining each face carefully. He makes his way down the ramp and slides under the bottom rope, entering the ring and backing into his corner.

Falcoon - Drake just hasn't been himself lately.

Dunn - That's for sure.

Missy makes a quick exit out of the ring, and once she returns to her seat the referee calls for the bell.

(Ding, Ding, Ding...)

The match begins with the two competitors circling out of their corners, keeping their eyes locked on each other as they move around the ring. They cut the distance down by slowly approaching the middle of the ring, and both men eventually lock up in a collar and elbow tie up. Drake gets the upper hand almost immediately, isolating GI's arm and locking it into a standing armbar while GI staggers around -- trying to find a way out. After a few seconds of a struggle, he reverses the leverage that Drake has and reverses the hold into an armbar of his own. Instead of wrenching back, he pulls Munday into his chest and grasps him around his midsection -- quickly tossing him over his head with a overhead Belly to Belly Suplex that sends Drake crashing down to his back across the ring.

Falcoon - Nice counter there by GI.

Dunn - He must have been scouting Munday.

Drake immediately rolls up to a seated position on the mat, while GI spins around and remains on his knees -- locking Munday into a rear chinlock on the canvas. The referee checks on Drake, who brushes him off as he rolls to his left and plants his knee onto the canvas. From there, GI transitions the hold into a side headlock with Drake starting to return to his feet. After a few moments he does so, and brings the point of his left elbow into the midsection of GI -- but it doesn't break the hold. GI gasps for air, but as he does so Munday brings a second elbow into his gut which loosens the hold a bit. He still can't break free, so Drake throws a third, and final, elbow into GI's stomach -- finally freeing himself. As he does, he takes off towards the ropes that GI is facing and turns his body to bounce off of them with his back. He sprints towards GI, who still seems dazed, and Drake crashes into him. GI is sent to the mat after the shoulder block, and Drake looks to capitalize by hitting the ropes adjacent to the set he just bounced from. He springs off of them and runs back at GI, who flops onto his stomach and makes Munday leap over him.

Kissens - GI is forcing Munday to fight his kind of match, y'all.

Dunn - Munday doesn't really have a single style, so he can adapt quickly.

Falcoon - We'll find out if that applies here.

After Drake charges towards the opposite set of ropes, GI returns to his feet and squares his body to face Drake -- watching him as he turns and bounces off of the ropes. He comes charging back at GI, who is waiting for him, and he bends over in an attempt for a back body drop. As Drake returns he stops himself short and swings his right boot up, connecting with the chest of his opponent and forcing him to stand up straight. Once he does, Drake kicks GI in the gut and forces him to bend back down -- tucking his head between his legs. Drake bends himself over and wraps both of his arms around GI's midsection, and picks him up onto his shoulders into a Powerbomb position. GI doesn't stay there long as he quickly rolls himself backwards and uses his legs to flip Drake over with a Hurricanrana to counter his powerbomb attempt.

Falcoon - That was textbook execution right there.

Dunn - Not much Drake could have done about that.

After hitting the reversal, GI immediately rushes to the nearest corner and begins climbing up to the top -- while Munday rolls over onto his stomach, holding the back of his head. GI perches himself up on the top rope, watching his opponent struggle on the canvas. After a few seconds Drake slowly pushes himself up from all fours, still doubled-over while GI leaps from the top rope. He brings the calf of his right leg down over Munday's head, and knocks him down to the mat face-first with a devastating scissor kick.

Dunn - He calls that CodeRed!

Kissens - Munday is out!

GI quickly rolls over Drake as both men lay on the mat, and he lays across his chest in a lateral press. The referee slides along the mat and makes the count. 1... 2... 3!

Kissens - It's over, and very quickly at that.

Dunn - That really came out of nowhere.

Missy Janson - The winner of this match...GI!

Falcoon - Another win for GI.

Dunn - He's stacking them up now.

Kissens - Guys, I'm worried about Drake.

Falcoon - As we all should be.

The cameras cut back to the announcers booth.

Dunn - And we had every right to be worried about Drake, as he hasn't been heard from or seen since Quest For The Best.

Falcoon - I hope he's going to be alright.

Kissens - He'll bounce back, he always does y'all.

Dunn - He was really off of his game to allow the tide to be turned so quickly.

Falcoon - Well, all we can say is that maybe GI is just the better man.

Kissens - We may never have another chance to see if that rings true, though.

Dunn - It was a good match that both men could be proud of, but now it's time to move into the present.

Kissens - James is right.

Falcoon - How about the present and recent past, as something that has been brewing up for the whole week has been Dude JoB taking on Trent Steel in a two week long match. Right before tonight started we had Dude JoB with a huge lead of one hundred and five falls to Trent Steel's ninety eight.

Dunn - Jesus christ, that's a lot of falls.

Kissens - Sure is.

Falcoon - Dude JoB has been leading most of the week but Trent Steel started a massive comeback earlier today. The match is going to continue where it was earlier today right outside of our arena in the parking lot. Both wrestlers kept the fight coming out of the truck they have been wrestling in and decided to finish it in the parking lot.

Kissens - I don't think the arena would hold them at this point ya'll.

Dunn - Still makes you wonder what this is trying to prove. They're beating the hell out of each other for no money, no title shot, no nothing. But the fans are sure enjoying this.

Falcoon - Maybe that's what it is. Maybe they just want to fight for the fans.

Kissens - Trent Steel...doing something for the fans?

Dunn - You're right, Gordie is retarded.

We cut to the outside where Trent Steel hits Dude JoB in the parking lot with a big boot to the face. Both men are bloody, sweaty, and in obvious pain. DJ hits the ground hard as Trent Steel rares back and pops him square in the nuts with a massive kick!

Falcoon - Dirty Fighter!

Dunn - No DQ! Trent's behind and not waiting to give DJ a leg up.

Kissens - Or a third leg.

Falcoon - Oh wow. We're so getting sued for that.

Trent goes in for the pin and 1...2...3...DJ kicks out right after and grabs Trent Steel in the face and gouges his eyes. DJ rolls him over and starts punching him square in the jaw. DJ positioned his legs where Trent can't keep them up to defend so Trent is going to have to power out of this and flip DJ off of him. However the difficulty is he's getting hit by right and lefts hard! DJ gets off and picks up Steel who slumps down in a heap. DJ goes to lift him but Trent with both arms hits the insides of DJ's legs and then uppercuts him sending DJ flying back down to the pavement as the crowd goes wild.

Falcoon - SHIT!

Dunn - Wow! It's now one hundred and five to ninety nine and Trent's looking to make it one hundred. That move came out of nowhere.

Kissens - This is insane. They should have let them do this last week. The numbers are just iinsane.

Trent grabs DJ and hoists him up. He picks up DJ for a Death Valley Driver...PITTSBURGH NIGHTMARE ON THE PAVEMENT! DJ's head bounces when it hits the pavement. Trent goes for the cover quickly. 1...2....3...Trent gets up groggly and walks over to a truck parked in the parking lot. The fans are going nuts as Trent looks in the bed and smiles as he breaks out a tire iron. He walks over to Dude JoB methodically and rares back with the iron only to get hit with a headbutt to the stomach by Dude JoB. DJ grabs the tire iron mid drop and slams it into the ribs of Trent Steel!

Falcoon - We have to cut away from this action but we will keep you updated as the night goes on.

The feed cuts back to a wide shot of the Arena, as the OWF-Tron flickers out and the fans all sigh in dissapointment.

Dunn - You have to wonder how this is going to turn out.

Kissens - We could be watching the demise of two of the brightest stars in the OWF, y'all.

Falcoon - I'd hope they would stop before one of them was seriously injured by this match.

Dunn - Esspecially when there is nothing to gain from it.

PA System – Reggaeton Latino

Bailen, yales
Muevan, suden
Sientan el poder
Del reggaeton latino
Bailen, yales
Muevan, suden
Sientan el poder
Del reggaeton latino
(Ohhh...)
(Ohhh...)
(Ohhh...)
(Ohhh...)

The Lights turn Blue and White and they begin to flash with the bass of the song. The Crowd begins to hoot and cheer as Somoza walks out with tan fatigues on a military general's coat and a military green hat on. His trademark sunglasses and cigar are absent tonight, as Somoza looks like he means business.

Falcoon - Well, we've been interrupted by Vernon Somoza who put on one hell of an effort against Plague.

Dunn - I wonder what he wants.

Kissens - Quest For The Best was one big clusterfuck for Porta, Somoza and Lopes y'all.

Falcoon - Maybe we get a bit of clarification here tonight.

He walks towards the ring, slapping a few hands as the music blares. He motions for a microphone as Missy obliges quickly, handing her microphone over to Somoza. Somoza waits for the rabid fans, who are chanting his name, to die down before he starts.

Vernon Somoza - Quest for the Best wasn't a great PPV for me.......the new thorn in my side, Ray Lopes....

The fans erupt with a spatter of boos when Somoza says his name.

Vernon Somoza - ....cost me the opportunity to become the OWF/NLW World Heavyweight Champion. And to add more insult to injury, I try to help Porta out in his match, but to no avail as Porta gets pinned in the middle of the ring. To add MORE icing to this cake, me and Porta are on the worst terms to date.

Falcoon - Well, Somoza has cost Porta a lot of his matches lately.

Kissens - It's almost like Vernon is in denial, y'all.

Vernon Somoza - And all of this would have not happened if it wasn't for that little pipsqueak Lopes. He is the main reason for all of these problems between El Plaga! Lopes! Bring ya ass out here right now, I have something to say, and I want you to have a front row seat when I say it!!

Somoza leans on the ropes closest to the ramp as a ringside camera picks up the anger written all over his face. The fans begin to get restless as it seems like Lopes isn't going to come out. Somoza smirks and turns around to address his fans.

Vernon Somoza - You see!?!? This coward doesn't even have the gall to co--

Nigga your past don’t excite me
You bleed just like me

Dunn - This is going to disintegrate real quick.

"Step Back" by Brisco & Joe Budden blasts over the PA system as the fans all rise to their feet and begin booing Ray Lopes as he makes his way down to the ring. With the Caribbean Title strapped over his shoulder, he ignores the fans all along the way and then slides inside the ring under the bottom rope. Lopes walks right towards Somoza who almost meet nose to nose. Lopes snatches the microphone from Somoza's hand as the fans boo's continue to ring out in the arena.

Falcoon - No love lost here.

Ray Lopes - You wanted me out here!?! You got it! Now what the hell do you want?!?

Somoza stares at Lopes for a few seconds as Lopes continues to question Somoza off-mic. Somoza snatches the microphone back from Lopes and continues.

Vernon Somoza - If you haven't got it through your thick skull yet, YOU'RE the reason El Plaga isn't the way it was, the way it's supposed to be. I blame you for ALL the animosity between Porta and I. Before he started feuding with you, Porta was a stand up guy. Now he's the pompous asshole I was hoping I would never see happen to him. It's your fault....and....

Somoza glares at Lopes' Caribbean Title.

Vernon Somoza - ....You and that GOD DAMN Caribbean Title!! Ever since those two things have entered into Porta's life, he's changed drastically! Greed, corruption and manipulation are some of the words on the short list of Porta's characteristics as of late.

Ray Lopes - I said it before and I'll say it again Somoza, I could care LESS about your little soap opera with your partner. I see you eyeing my title, is there something you want to do about it??

Vernon Somoza - As a matter of fact Lopes, there is. I'm officially challenging YOU for your Caribbean Championship on next week's Addiction!

The fans erupt at the news Somoza just let out.

Vernon Somoza - You and that belt are the reason Porta acts the way he does. So my best move is to dismantle you beyond recognition, take the Caribbean Title and bring back the old Porta....The Porta WE all know and love.

The fans begin to go absolutely nuts, as they chant, "Somoza's gonna kill you!". Lopes takes a few steps back away from Somoza, collecting his thoughts. He picks his head back up, sporting an ear to ear smile, and let's out his rebuttal.

Ray Lopes - Okay, okay....So you want a title shot against me on next week's Addiction?? Deal.

The fans pop as Lopes accepts.

Falcoon - Wow. Huge Match signed for next week!

Dunn - This is going to be a wa--

Ray Lopes - BUT......Only......if you do me one tiny favor.

Vernon Somoza - And what's that Lopes!?!

Ray Lopes - YOU.......have to CANE PORTA!!

The crowd let's out a collective gasp and begin to boo, as Somoza's face changes from anger to concern. Random fans are heard screaming, "Don't do it Somoza!", as Somoza stands in the middle of the ring pondering his options.

Ray Lopes - What's the matter, Somoza!?!? You want the old Porta back don't you?? Well here's your chance, buddy.

Lopes motions towards the ramp, as a ring technician comes out with a haitian cane, literally 3 sugar canes bound by tape. Lopes continues to smile as Somoza continues to contemplate.

Ray Lopes - Look....I don't have all day for you to stand here and make a life decision! I'm gonna help speed up this process.....So please HIT PORTA'S MUUUUUUUSIC!!!!!

PA System - Out In The Streets. THEY CALL IT MURDAAAA!

"Welcome To Jamrock" by Damian Marley begins to blare over the PA System, but no one comes through the curtains. The music plays for a minute and when nobody shows, it fades out. Lopes' face fills with anger while Somoza, cane now in hand, is resting in the corner still trying to make a decision.

Ray Lopes - I know you're back there, Wyclef!! You made the stipulation, and if you're a so-called,"man of honor", you will come out and RESPECT THE RULE. NOW HIT HIS MUSIC AGAIN!!!

PA System - Out In The Streets. THEY CALL IT MURDAAAA!

Vernon Somoza - Wait! Wait!!

Ray Lopes - Have you made a decision, Somoza!?!?!

Vernon Somoza - I........I won't do it......

The crowd cheers for their hero as he declines Lopes' cynical offer.

Kissens - He doesn't want to lose a friend! That's respectable.

Dunn - But he just lost a title shot.

Ray Lopes - Just like a bitch. You have a great opportunity and you let it slip away because of a friendship. Don't you see what Porta has done?? He's gotten rid of dead weight that is Vernon Somoza, and become a STAR in this business. While you....you sit in the back burner as OWF Enhancement Talent!! They always say that there's always one great singles wrestler in a tag team, and I think we just figured out who it is!

Somoza parts the rope and begins to make his way up the ramp.

Ray Lopes - You walk away Somoza!! You will never amount to nothing in this company!! Without Por--

Porta Prince - Do it, Somoza...

Somoza stops in his tracks as he immediately recognizes the voice speaking to him. Just then, through the curtain, wearing a wife beater, jeans and sneakers, comes Porta Prince, microphone in hand. Somoza walks up the ramp, and locks eyes with Porta as they stand face to face.

Ray Lopes - Well isn't this cute! Porta coming to convince his partner to do the right thing. Awwwwww.

Porta Prince - Shut your face, Lopes!! I'll deal with you in a second.....Somoza.....we may not be seeing eye to eye lately, but I'm a man of my word. Lopes beat me, even if it was YOUR fault. And the stipulation I created has to be honored, or there's no point in it.....So go ahead Somoza, cane away.

Ray Lopes - Yeah Somoza!! Do as your told!! Cane the shit outta that motherfucker!!

Somoza is picked up by the camera feed.

Vernon Somoza - I won't do it Porta, I just won't!!

The fans continue to cheer on Somoza's choice as, "FUn Can Kill YOU" chants begin to go around the arena.

Porta Prince - What do you need?? Some motivation!! Alright, how about this!? All the things Lopes said were right! You are the weak link of the team Vern. If it wasn't for me, we'd never be tag team champions! You were nothing but dead weight these broad shoulders didn't want to carry anymore!! Your worthless Somoza......NOW CANE ME!!!

A dejected Somoza simply shakes his head "no". Porta begins to get enraged as they share a small argument inaudible to the camera and microphone.

Ray Lopes - Look, can you two turds hurry up your little soap opera?? Somoza! Cane his ass and you get your wish!! It's as simple as that....CANE PORTA!!!

Porta Prince - Just do it, Somoza....It's fine....

Porta turns his back to Somoza, who grabs a second handful of the haitian cane. The fans are still pleading with Somoza not to do it, while Somoza stands there still torn to make decision. Porta turns back around with a face full of anger.

Porta Prince - Somoza, you sonofabitch! HIT ME!!! You goddamn coward!! What's your problem!?!? Cease the opportunity! Cane me, so I can get this over with!!

Somoza drops the cane, clutching it with one hand.

Vernon Somoza - No Porta.....I can--

Somoza's sentence is halted abruptly as Porta open hand slaps Somoza across the face. The fans gasp and oooooh at the action Porta has taken. Lopes even jumps back at the drastic actions of Porta.

Ray Lopes - I wasn't expecting that!! Man this really is turning into a soap opera!

Vernon Somoza - NO PORTA!! I won't!! I don't care what yo--

Porta smacks Somoza across the face again.

Falcoon - Wow.

Porta Prince - How many times do I have to do it Somoza!! Cane me so all this can be over with!!

Porta rears back for a third smack, but Somoza deflects it. With one hand, Somoza swings the haitian cane and it connects with Porta square in the ribs.

Ray Lopes - NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' BOUT!! 9 more to go, Somoza!! Finish the job, and you got a deal!!

Porta is down on all fours, clutching his ribs as Somoza rears back for an overhand attack with the cane. Somoza hits Porta's back with so much force, one of the canes crack. Lopes is in the ring loving every moment of it while the fans boo as Somoza continues his onslaught.

Ray Lopes - 7......8......9........10!!! There it is folks!! Somoza has finally stepped up to the plate!! Get your popcorn ready assholes....Next week's Addiction doesn't get any better!! Vernon Somoza versus Ray Lopes for the Caribbean Championship! See ya next week Somoza!

Somoza stands distraught over Porta, whose back is swelling with welts and bleeding through the wife beater profusely. Somoza puts the bloody cane down and walks to the back as Miss Stephanie comes running through the curtain to console her man. Porta clutches his back in pain as OWF security comes out to help Porta. Lopes smiles as he tosses the microphone to the mat. The fans let him have it as he cackles, walking past the fallen Porta.

Falcoon - I am nearly to the point of vomitting here.

Dunn - Make sure you puke to your left, then.

Kissens - This is so sad to see, y'all. We've watched two friends get absolutely torn apart by a single man.

Dunn - Ray Lopes is a smart individual, there is no denying that.

The feed cuts back to the announcers booth.

Falcoon - Smart enough to know that without Porta being in Somoza's pocket, he has a great chance to retain next week.

Kissens - He may have even converted Porta Prince into being an ally of Lopes.

Dunn - To be honest, he did command Somoza to do it.

Falcoon - That is true.

Dunn - And he slapped him in the face, as well.

Falcoon - I'm agreeing with you.

Dunn - Oh.

The feed cuts backstage, with a camera zoomed on the bruised, bloody, and welted back of Porta Prince as he departs from the stage area -- just returning from the ring.

Kissens - Damn, look at him y'all.

Falcoon - Vernon really laid into him.

Porta walks slowly in pain as Miss Stephanie tries her best to help her man to the locker room. They make it to the door of their room, when Tyler Taylor shows up around the corner.

Porta Prince - Jesus Christ.

Tyler Taylor - Porta! Porta!!

Porta Prince - You know you have a keen sense of showing up at the WORST times.

Tyler Taylor -You just got caned by your former best friend.

Porta Prince - No shit...

Porta cringes in pain as he leans against the wall. Miss Stephanie walks into the locker room as tears are running down her cheek.

Tyler Taylor - Well, the people want to know....What are you going to do about all of this!?

Porta Prince - You know what Taylor?? For the first time in all of our interviews.....you've FINALLY come up with a good question. I'm going to show you how I'm going to deal with all of this right now.

Porta limps his way down the corridors of the Mohegan Sun Arena as the camera man and Taylor Tyler follow Porta in tow. The trio comes to a halt, with Porta stopping in front of President Specter's office. Porta knocks on Prez Specter's door a few times to no answer. Porta knocks violently with his foot when Specter answers.

Prez Specter - Come in.

Prez Specter looks up and jumps back in his chair as he gets a good look at Porta.

Prez Specter - Jeez Porta....you look like shit!!

Porta Prince - Tell me about it.

Prez Specter - What can I do for you?? Please have a seat.

Porta Prince - No need Spec....This'll be brief.

Prez Specter - Alright....shoot.

Porta begins to pace slowly, back and forth as he makes his case to President Specter.

Porta Prince - As I'm sure you know, Somoza and Lopes will be going at it next week for MY Caribbean Title.

Prez Specter - Judging by the welts and scars on your back, I can tell that match is going down next week.

Porta Prince - Well, what I need you to do is to turn that match into a triple threat. I'm cashing in my rematch clause next week and taking my title back.

Prez Specter - Okay. No problem Porta, You got it. Next week's Addiction will be a Triple Threat Match for the Caribbean Championship. Vernon Somoza versus Porta Prince versus Ray Lopes. You got your wish, buddy. Now, with all due respect, get out of my office. You're getting blood all over my furniture.

Porta walks out of President Specter's office with a cringing smile on his face as the crowd erupts at the news of the triple threat match.

Dunn - That is going to be fucking huge.

The feed cuts back to the announcers booth.

Falcoon - Finally we get some closure on it.

Kissens - I doubt we'll get anything resembling closure, y'all.

Dunn - I agree with Jackie. This is just going to make things a lot worse all around.

From next to the announcers table we see Missy Janson step out of her seat at the time keepers table, with a microphone in her right hand. The camera pans to follow her as she steps off towards the nearest set of ring steps, positioned in the corner directly next to her table.

Falcoon - But if that match is booked for next week, what the hell is going to happen to Jesse's card?

Kissens - I assume we'll have to wait to hear from him.

Dunn - Or Specter is trying to screw him again.

Falcoon - Would you stop? I'm sure Jesse is just biding his time, and doing some scumbag antics backstage -- waiting to come out here and shit on everyone else.

Missy quickly skips up the steps and makes her way onto the ring apron, before ducking through the ropes and entering the ring.

Dunn - That's true, but until then, we have two matches here that should really be a thrill to witness.

Kissens - If you can even call Dude JoB versus Trent Steel a match.

Dunn - I do.

Falcoon - Either way, there is no question we have a lot to get to tonight. So let's send it to Missy for the first live matches of the evening.

She makes her way to the center of the squared circle and turns to face the live camera feed, as the fans give her a nice applause.

Missy Janson - The next match is scheduled for a one-fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Coming to the ring first, from The Hall of Justice... The Avenger!

Over the PA, a voice is heard:

PA System - Courtesy of your Friendly Neighborhood Avenger!

"Courage" by Alien Ant Farm comes over the speakers and The Avenger leaps out on the stage, making heroic poses. As he moves down the ramp, he shakes hands, kisses babies, and signs autographs. He stands at the ring, makes sure his cape is attached and then leaps up onto the apron, before climbing up the turnbuckle and doing yet another heroic pose.

Dunn - This guy hung with Somoza a few weeks back.

Falcoon - If you're implying that means he can beat on JC just as easily, I don't agree.

Dunn - No, I'm just saying he's capable of surprising a few of us here tonight.

His music fades out as he hops off of the turnbuckle, and backs into his corner. Missy lifts the microphone back up to her lips.

Missy Janson - And his opponent, from Jersey City, New Jersey... Here is JC!

Lights flash then dim, and "Wherein Lies Continue" by Slipknot fills the speakers. The lights all go out and only a spotlight shines on Joe, who comes to the ring without any friendly movements or acknowledgment of the fans, who are booing him.

PA system - Thou shalt not

Kill your fathers - destroy another life
Question everything we clung to for years
Live forever - design a better death
Confuse a liar with a savior from fear

He climbs up to the turnbuckle, puts his hands in a clasp above his head and brings them down, still clasped, to chest-level.

The ending's the same
The world will not change
The answer is clear
Annihilation

He climbs down, glares at the audience and warms up for his match.

Kissens - I'm going with JC either way, y'all.

Falcoon - Safe bet.

JC positions himself in his corner as his music fades, and Missy promptly exits the ring. As she does, the bell is rung.

(Ding, Ding, Ding...)

The Avenger runs out of his corner and leaps into the air, looking for a cross body block -- but JC catches him in mid-air, and holds his opponent horizontally to the mat. He tosses The Avenger up into the air, over his head and lays him across his shoulders with his back resting over him. He holds The Avenger in the torture rack for only a moment before sitting out and delivering a huge sitdown backbreaker.

Falcoon - Jesus! Jersey Driver and we're under a minute into the match!

Dunn - Yeah, can I take back what I said?

Kissens - No.

Dunn - Damnit.

The Avenger collapses to the mat while JC, with a fire burning in his eyes, rises back up to his feet. He takes a few steps back and positions himself behind his opponent, watching as he struggles to pull himself back up towards his feet. He has trouble pushing himself up from all fours, and eventually gets to his knees -- lifting his upper body straight up into a kneeling position. As he does so, JC takes off towards the ropes that The Avenger is facing and turns himself to bounce off of the cables back-first. He sprints back towards The Avenger and lifts his right foot, delivering a running big boot straight to his face -- sending blood spurting from a wide gash over The Avenger's right eye.

Falcoon - Big Boot of Death!

Kissens - He's going to kill him!

Dunn - Seriously, I want to take it back. Let me do it!

Without wasting a second, JC scoops The Avenger up by his head and stands him to his feet. He bends his opponent forward and tucks his head between his legs, and reaches forward to grasp The Avenger behind both of his thighs. JC lifts him up and sits out -- driving The Avenger right down onto the top of his head with a vicious Package Piledriver.

Dunn - The Answer on The Avenger!

Falcoon - ... Okay, this needs to stop now.

The fans are absolutely silent as JC rises back up to his feet, and stares down at his lifeless opponent. A wide smirk is plastered across his face as he again reaches down, and picks up The Avenger to his spaghetti-like legs -- only to quickly pick him up over his shoulders into a standing firemans carry.

Kissens - It's enough! We get the point!

JC spins his opponent around and delivers a sitout spinebuster, as The Avenger's head snaps off of the mat with excessive force. The fans are still as quiet as the day is long, watching as JC keeps himself on the mat and rolls his opponent over onto his stomach. He isolates his right leg and hooks it into a single legged boston crab -- placing his right knee right across The Avenger's bent leg for added leverage.

Falcoon - Now he's got The Beginning of the End locked in, right after hitting the Solitare Unraveling!

Dunn - Go JC!

Kissens - You sicken me, James.

Dunn - And you're a whore.

The referee checks on The Avenger, who is passed out. The referee calls for the bell immediately, ending the match while JC releases the hold almost instantaneously.

Falcoon - Thank god.

Missy Janson - The winner of this match by referee stoppage... JC!

After the announcement, JC rolls quickly out of the ring and looks underneath for something.

Falcoon - What is JC up to now?

Dunn - It won't be good for Avenger.

JC reaches under the ring and begins to pull out a large, makeshift crucifix. He slides it into the ring and looks down at Avenger. The fans begin to boo. JC reaches out and gets a microphone.

JC - I'm not even going to dive into a speech right now. Before I walked into Quest for the Best, I thought I wanted a match with my brother the most of all.

JC walks over and kicks The Avenger in the ribs, shoving him over onto the wooden planks. He pulls some rope from his tights and quickly ties the arms down to the wood. Then, using his upper body strength he heaves the cross with the Avenger tied down to a resting position against the turnbuckle.

JC - As it turns out, someone thinks they can get away with striking me. Striking me from behind, like a coward.

JC reaches down and ties the feet to the bottom of the cross with more rope.

JC - This "crucifix" individual is pathetic. He is a worm. He is beneath me. Yet, I can't help but feel sorry for him, because he's invoked my wrath. Yet he seems to be the embodiment of these "seven deadly sins" he likes to mockingly bestow on his victim's chests. Yet, there is one cardinal sin that he broke.

JC reaches up and takes a finger to Avenger's bloodied forehead. Using Avenger's own blood, he writes "FUCKING WITH JC" across the smaller and younger wrestler's bare chest.

JC - You have drawn the ire of a force you are not capable of dealing with Crucifix. I'm going to find you, I'm going to destroy you. I don't care if I'm not in your grand scheme or plans, you're now a part of mine. Like so many other cancers, we can't have someone attacking the talent like Plague can we? If you thought I was angry before...you haven't seen the worst I'm capable of.

JC rolls out of the ring, a shocked crowd in his wake.

Dunn - So, now this Crucifix guy has officially woken up a sleeping dragon.

Falcoon - And the OWF is going to suffer because of it.

Kissens - Well that's just great.

Dunn - You can add The Avenger to the list of names dismantled by JC, now.

JC slowly heads up the ramp, with the crowd still silent as they watch The Avenger still laying motionless in the ring. The feed cuts to the announcers booth, with all three commentators looking pale in the face.

Falcoon - Who is going to stop this guy?

Dunn - That's a great question. And one that we'll have to wait to get answered.

Kissens - I'm sure he'll make his presence known next week.

Falcoon - But who will be the next to suffer.

Jackie places her right hand to her ear, thumbing the earpiece inside of her ear canal.

Kissens - Well, I don't mean to interrupt but I just got a confirmation ya'll. DJ just scored a knockout win over Trent Steel. It's one hundred and six to one hundred!.

Falcoon - Can we get a replay on that last victory for DJ? At least to get away from this carwreck...

Falcoon - Thank you guys in the production truck.

Kissens - They said you're welcome.

Falcoon - I know... I have an earpiece too.

Kissens - Well aren't you special?

Steel starts to get up after being hit by the tire iron and DJ telegraphs a hit right in the bridge of Trent's nose sending him to the ground. DJ falls down to his knee's and starts getting his breath. 1...2...3...4..5...6..7...8...9...10...DJ scores another win. Steel starts to get up after the countdown and DJ just shakes his head as he grabs Trent Steel. Trent swings wildly and misses DJ who headbutts Trent in the face again. Trent falls down hard as Trent's face starts gushing blood again. DJ walks back a bit and starts running...RUNNING DROPKICK TO THE FACE! Trent Steel rolls into the crowd. Who start hitting him. Security breaks it up as the crowd starts chanting “DJ! DJ ! DJ!!!”. DJ walks over and picks up Trent Steel. POWERBOMB! Trent isn't moving. DJ goes for the pin...1..2...3... one hundred and seven to one hundred! Dude JoB picks up Trent Steel and just tosses him into a van. Trent doesn't slide down. He's fighting to stay awake. DJ rushes for him and Trent ducks. DJ hits head first into the van. DJ is obviously shaken as Trent grabs DJ's collarbone area and swings to his knee making DJ's head bounce off of his knee and back into the van. On the rebound Trent rares back and...HEARTPUNCH!!! DJ hits the ground and Trent roundhouse kicks him in the face sending DJ to the ground. Pin attempt...1...2...3..! One hundred and seven to one hundred and one! The fans start to give Trent a even harder time.

Falcoon - Dear God! This is insane. Both men are killing each other.

Dunn - Dude JoB is obviously the crowd favorite. Steel is taking a lot of this extra punishment just from the crowd.

Kissens - Karma ya'll.

One fan tosses a beer bottle and it hits Trent in the side of the face. The ref calls for security to escort the man away from the fight. Trent is bleeding from the side of the face. One of the paramedics rushes to him and Trent decks him in the face. Trent picks up the broken glass pieces and glares at DJ. Instead Trent tosses them to the crowd and grabs Dude JoB. He sets him up for...TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER ON THE PAVEMENT. The booing is getting nuts as Trent leaps to the top of the van.

Falcoon - He isn't...No...

Dunn - Trent Steel is going to high fly in a street fight. This is so out of character!

Kissens - No. No it isn't! He's sending a message to this crowd!

Trent holds up both middle fingers as he executes...BLACK WINGED ANGEL!!! Roll up! 1...2...3...one hundred and seven to one hundred and two! Trent gets up to a chorus of boo's and yells at the top of his lungs “MUSIC TO MY MOTHER FUCKING EARS!!!”DJ is trying to get up as Trent walks over and picks up the tire iron. He goes to slam it into DJ's face but instead pops off a hubcap from the van. Trent drops the tire iron and waits for DJ to get up. Trent kicks him in the gut. Powerbomb attempt. REVERSAL! Dude JoB just Hurricanrana'd Trent Steel into the hubcap on the ground head first. Trent rolls away as Dude JoB grabs the tire iron and slams it into Trent's back hard! The fans cheer. DJ looks at them for a second and slams it again into his fellow Rouge in the back. Trent spits up blood as he turns to face DJ. The fans cheer again as DJ drops the tire iron. He starts to walk away as Trent pulls up to his knees with aid of the van. Dude JoB walks over to the ref and motions to cut it.

Falcoon - DJ has had enough of this. He's proved his point and he's getting disgusted with this crowd.

Dunn - Can't blame him. DJ see's Trent like a brother. This is tearing him up inside.

Kissens - Let it end. They proved they're point.

Trent shakes his head as DJ tells the ref to call it. Trent lets out a roar and spears JoB from behind! DJ lands face first into the ground and Trent starts punching him over and over and over. DJ rolls his head to the side and Trent punches the ground. Trent yelps out and DJ headbutts him in the face again. DJ kicks Trent off of him and leaping legdrops Trent on the neck. DJ picks Trent up and german suplexs him...bridge...1...2...3!!! one hundred and eight to one hundred and two.

Falcoon - Trent hit his head hard there. That son of a bitch won't quit though.

Dunn - Hate him. Loathe him. You can break that man physically but you can't ever break him inside. He will come back like a cockroach.

Kissens - He's not moving though.

The ref calls a different paramedic over as DJ gets up and backs off. The fans start chanting. “WHIP HIS ASS! WHIP HIS ASS!!” DJ is trying to ignore it as the ref starts a ten count on Steel because the match is still going on. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7..8..9...10! one hundred and nine to one hundred and two! The refs call the doctors over. For a good five minutes there is no action as Dude JoB paces around hearing the crowd cheer for him. He looks disgusted. Running up to him fast is Garrett Greene with a camera crew. The ref declares another knockout win for DJ.

Garrett Greene - The match just gained one more fall for DJ. Dude JoB now leads one hundred and ten to one hundred and two. The refs called a break because Trent Steel is still unresponsive. I'm trying to get a word in with Dude JoB. DJ! DJ!

Dude JoB - ...leave me alone.

Garrett Greene - If he isn't responsive in the next two minutes the match will more than likely be called when he's hauled off in a ambulence. You have been through a week of wrestling this man. This is a first in wrestling history. Surely you have something to say to the fans.

DJ looks at the camera and grabs the mic.

Dude JoB - Yeah I got something to fucking say about your fucking fanbase you fucking fool! You people make me sick! That man....That man is more of a man than our so called champion. He does this shit for money! For glory! Trent...it's all he does. It's all he can do because of what's happened to him. I'd be easy for him to get money out of this. It would be so easy for him to be just like that fucking asshole that is...

Trent Steel - HEY ASSHOLE!!!

Right before he says anything else DJ is hit from behind with a I.V. rack! Trent Steel slams it again into DJ's face. Trent picks him up and starts choking Dude JoB with the IV cord still in his wrist! DJ flips up and kicks Trent in the chest sending him flying and pulling the cord out. Trent gets right back up and running dropkicks DJ in the face sending him down. Trent grabs Dude JoB and picks him up for a running powerbomb. Trent gets to the building and slams DJ into the brick wall. DJ lands in a slump. Trent glares at the ref. “COUNT IT!”. 1...2...3...4...5...6..7...8..9....10! one hundred and ten to one hundred and three!

Garrett Greene - TRENT! Can we have a word.

Falcoon - Dumbass!

Dunn - Here it comes.

Kissens - I hope he paid off his dental ya'll.

Trent Steel - ...

DJ gets up and yells at Trent. Dude JoB and Trent Steel are trading punches. DJ runs in with a powerful right hook sending Trent flying back into the crowd of people. Two guys grab Trent and slam him hard into the ground. Security tries to break it up but not before the guys get some licks in. Trent gets picked up by DJ who hits him with a ace crusher. DJ goes for the pin. 1...2...KICKOUT!. Trent rolls out of the way and grabs DJ by the back of the head and slams him hard into the pavement. Trent picks up DJ and DJ powers out and punches Trent square in the balls. DJ gets all the way up and waits for Trent to come standing upright. DJ wails on Trent with punches...1..2..3...4...5..6..7..8..9.10..11...12...Suddenly Steel reaches out and grabs DJ's hand. Trent's face is a bright red from the hitting and the anger. His eyes are tearing up with rage as he starts shaking. He clamps down hard on DJ's hand putting pressure on the knuckles. DJ tries to punch with the other hand but Trent catches it. Trent leans his head back and headbutts DJ. DJ shakes it off but is groggy. Trent circles him and latches behind DJ in a german suplex hold. Trent connects with a german suplex onto the pavement. Bridge. 1...2...3! He keeps it up. The ref doesn't know what to do but starts counting again. 1..2..3!. Again...1...2..3! DJ can't seem to break out of this despite his squirming the way Trent has got his back and legs positioned is preventing him from getting out of the hold. 1...2...3!back into place. 1...2...3! Trent's back hits the ground for a moment and the count starts...1...2...Trent gets his back up and continues to hold on! He slams hard getting DJ back into the pinning position. 1...2..3! The fans are going ballistic. One fan tries to stop the referee but is stopped by security. 1...2...3! It's TIED! It's all tied up!

Falcoon - Trent Steel just got out of the basement! It's still anybodies match.

Dunn - That bridge is insane. How much pain it is to hold anyone in that position but someone who has literally sapped your strength the whole week. This is a testament to Trent Steel's ability to push himself over the edge.

Kissens - Ya'll it's got to end sometime. This has to stop.

Falcoon - I'm getting word that President Specter is heading outside to deal with the situation.

Dunn - Hopefully he gets there after the next fall so we can have a definite winner.

Trent finally lets go of the bridge and rolls out of the way. DJ is holding his back. The fans are booing. Trent gets up and groggily as does DJ who is holding his back. Trent goes to punch him but misses way to wide. Trent lands hard on the ground but rolls to try and get back up. DJ walks over to him and picks him up slowly. He see's a car and yells for people to get out of the way as DJ slams Trent's head into the trunk of the car. Trent falls backwards hard. He's not moving. DJ falls down and puts a hand over him. 1...2...3! one hundred and eleven to one hundred and ten!

Falcoon - Trent's out of gas. I don't believe it! After that massive regain he's about to pass out.

Dunn - He was behind for most of the week and DJ's ability to dish out the punishment has surely tested Trent Steel.

Kissens - These guys are friends. This just isn't right.

Falcoon - They're professionals. These two put aside everything when that bell rings.

Dude JoB slowly gets up and he kicks Trent in the ribs. Trent rolls with it and starts to get up. One of the cameras turn and we see President Specter walking towards the lot. Garrett Greene runs over to him and starts talking to him and pointing back to the two men fighting. Specter shakes his head and starts walking towards them. DJ gets up and the fans outside start cheering him on. Trent slowly gets up. DJ has his back to him trying to pull himself up with the car. Trent grabs DJ's legs and twists sending DJ down to the ground. Trent leaps up with a burst of energy and twists DJ's legs...X-TREME PREJUDICE!

Falcoon - That son of a bitch!

Dunn - He just pulled out his ace in the hole.

Kissens - He's been playing DJ since the start.

Falcoon - All the damage Trent's been inflicting on DJ since the start of this match has been aimed at making him more apt to taping out to that sharpshooter variation. Unbelievable.

DJ is writing in pain as the fans cheer him on. Trent Steel stands there barely able to keep upright and wrenches and twists trying to get Dude JoB to tap out. DJ's face tells the story. He doesn't give up easily. He is a proud man. There have been no submissions for this entire match. He's not going to quit. He's not going to quit. Trent starts breathing heavily and jerks with one last amount of effort. Dude JoB taps! He taps...one hundred and eleven to one hundred and eleven! Specter stops and sighs as he grabs the ref. The referee nods at the instructions as Trent Steel falls flat on his face. Dude JoB gets up and he looks down at his friend. He picks up Trent and helps him stand tall. DJ walks away...he eyes Steel up. He runs and leaps into the air. DJ wraps his legs around Trent's head sideways and spins. Trent's face goes forward along with his body going up into the air into the back windshield of the car shattering it. The crowd goes silent as Trent hits the ground hard after sliding off the car roof. DJ walks over and falls down on top of Trent. 1...2..3! One hundred and twelve to one hundred and eleven. The ref calls the match. Specter walks over to check on both stars as the paramedics rush in as well.

Falcoon - It's over...DJ wins.

Dunn - Dear God. That was fucking brutal.

Kissens - But are they going to be able to compete anymore in OWF? This could be a career ending match with as many headshots and injuries they have caused each other.

The paramedics take Trent away on a stretcher as DJ starts to get up.

We cut back to ringside.

Falcoon - What an encounter.

Kissens - But jesus christ, was it worth it?

Coming out of the back on crutches is Dude JoB. His face bandaged, shirtless, and covered in blood. He's holding a mic in one hand.

Dude JoB - I got a request...I just got off the phone with the doctors. Trent's awake. So much so that he asked me to ask you a favor for next week Jesse!

DJ takes a deep breath as he tries to hold back tears.

Dude JoB - He wants...a Kill Trent Match!

Falcoon - WHAT!

Dunn - He's suicidal! There is no way after a week of fighting Trent Steel can survive that!

Kissens - I think he knows it guys. That's why he's doing it.

The fans start chanting “DJ! DJ! DJ!”

Dude JoB - Fuck you...

He points to the ring.

Dude JoB - You people make me fucking sick! You cheer me for beating my best friend to near death! You cheer me for what? What you think I'm your hero! You think I'm the man to put at stop to that douchebag son of a mexician STD infested whore!

The fans go ballistic.

Dude JoB - No...your hero's in a hospital bed right now after two weeks of hell. Me. I'm no hero. I'm a fucking executioner...and your next on my block Mexi-melt!

The fans give a mild reception to Dude JoB after being chastised, watching as he quickly ducks behind the curtains and disappears backstage.

---

LIVE! SUNDAY, MAY 31ST 2009! FROM THE PROVIDENCE CIVIC CENTER IN PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND!

FEATURING: THE 2009 THREE MAN TAG TEAM TOURNAMENT! All competitors on the active roster will be placed into teams of three for a one-night tournament, pitting each team of three against each other -- and culminating in a Finals Match with an undetermined prize for the winning team.

---

As we come back from the commercial, the lights go black as a deep, eerie growl is heard over the PA. Immediately we hear dirty, distored guitars come in before being followed by the drums kicking in. The second verse of "Motel of the White Locust" by glassJAw hits the PA System.

Now I kiss up to God, my fists and I pray to keep my head.
Though I like your pretty eyes better blackened,
And my fists all fucking red.

Through sickness and health, I've kissed up to God.
Two years, I have focused..
On the cameos made by the tiger in the valley of the fucking locust.

Who could ever..
Who the fuck could ever..
Take the place of me?
Who could ever..
Who the fuck could ever..
No one can the place of me.

After the chorus, we see Jesse Williams walk out from the back- with the NLW World Heavyweight Championship draped over his right shoulder, and the OWF World Heavyweight Championship strapped around his waist. The lights come back up to a normal setting, shining upon the entire arena.

Dunn - There he is! The Best in the World!

The fans, who should be showing some sign of respect, absolutely don't as they pelt him with a mixture of a verbal and physical assault. Verbal from their very audible booing, and physical as Jesse is forced to avoid garbage that is continually flung his way.

Falcoon - You mean, the biggest piece of trash in the world.

Kissens - I almost want to leave.

Dunn - Go ahead, but you'll be suspended for walking off on live television.

Kissens - Ugh.

Williams makes his way to the ring, and rounds towards the corner with a set of steel ring steps adjoined to it. He takes his time ascending to the apron, and he enters the ring with a big smile on his face.

Falcoon - What a cocky son of a bitch.

Jesse walks across the ring and receives a microphone from Missy Janson, who waits outside the ring for him. Williams returns to the center of the ring as his music fades out, hearing a chorus of boo's coming from the rabid crowd.

Jesse Williams - That's exactly what I expected out of all of you.

They quiet down a bit, but still continue to give Jesse hell.

Jesse Williams - Look at this arena. Is there one bit of decoration to celebrate my year long reign? Is there a bit of adulation after I accomplished something you all believed I never could in winning the Quest For The Best Tournament?

Jesse takes a breath, noticing the fans have died down enough so he can now speak at a normal tone.

Jesse Williams - No, and even worse, you know who they had set up to present me with the 2009 Quest For The Best Trophy? Garrett Greene.

The fans drop silent, not knowing what to make of Jesse's words.

Jesse Williams - I have no problem with not being celebrated, because I'd rather not get your praise in any form it may come to me. But, I do have a problem with one person. A guy who has done everything in his power to minimize this accomplishment for me, and had it all blow up in his face.

The fans cheer, knowing who Jesse is talking about, which brings a grimace to the face of the Champion.

Jesse Williams - And that same man will present me with what I rightfully deserve. But before I call him out here, I need to address my Addiction Card. I looked through the contract which went into effect on April 27th, and I noted that I am not forced to book the next Addiction card- or even the one after that. Instead, I have chosen to wait it out and really get a good plan in my head before I book something even I don't want to see.

Williams paces to the far side of the ring.

Jesse Williams - That's why you should all mark down June 8th on your calendars, because that's when my Addiction Card will be happening. I've got some matches that I am thumbing over in my mind, and I sure am taking suggestions, but in the coming weeks I'll be sure to give you all a very good look at what I am thinking. But until that time, I'd like to welcome out the current President of the OWF- who will bestow upon me the Quest For The Best Tr-

Jesse stops himself as a rose falls from the rafters and lands on the mat in front of him. He glances down as droplets of blood now rain down around him. As he looks up the camera follows, and we see Porta Prince hung high above the arena on a cross.

Falcoon - HOLY FUCK!

Dunn - Another one?

Kissens - This is ridiculous, y'all!

Falcoon - Porta is in a bad way here! He could fall from that perch.

The camera zooms in and we see the word "gluttony" etched in his blood across his chest. The camera cuts back to Jesse who bails out of the ring and begins heading back up the ramp in a power walk, with his eyes focused on Porta above the arena.

Dunn - Even worse, Jesse didn't get his trophy!

Kissens - Oh will you shut up?

Falcoon - Seriously, Porta has been crucified!

Dunn - Yeah, but a lot of people have.

Kissens - I need to find out who is doing this, y'all.

Falcoon - This person will slip up soon enough.

Dunn - Well, unfortunately it's not tonight -- because we're out of time.

Falcoon - Tune in next week, fans. Hopefully Porta will be able to compete in that Triple Threat.

Kissens - We'll see in a week!

The feed cuts to black as Jesse disappears behind the curtains. We cut to the OWF logo, and then again to black.

Jesse Williams - This is absolute bullshit!

The cameras come back to life in the backstage area as Jesse is storming around, kicking and pushing over anything in his way.

Jesse Williams - I get no god damn respect from anybody, and this fucking asshole wants to steal my spotlight?

Jesse rounds the corner and heads down a hallway, eventually coming to his dressing room door. He pushes it open as the camera keeps filming him from the side. As he stares into the dark abyss, he is struck with fright.

Voice - What's the matter, Jesse? Looks like you've seen a ghost.

Jesse Williams - Y-y-you...No, you're dead!

Voice - Only on the inside.

Jesse slams the door to his locker room and takes off running, leaving his belongings inside of his dressing area. As he sprints the cameras fade out, and completely end the telecast.