As the telecast begins, the lights go black as a deep eerie growl is heard over the PA System. 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 re-

Jesse Williams - Cut the fucking music!

The music shuts off as we see Jesse Williams walk out from the back- the NLW World Heavyweight Championship draped over his right shoulder, and the OWF World Heavyweight Championship strapped around his waist. He has a microphone tucked tightly into the palm of his right hand as he storms from the stage, and begins to trek down the ramp as he heads towards the ring. The fans are merciless in their booing, with Jesse growing more enraged with every step he takes. As he reaches ringside, he brings the microphone up towards his face.

Jesse Williams - Last week, I had two things majorly interrupt the most important night of my career. One happened as I returned to my locker room, and the other was witnessed by millions of people who were watching their TV sets- or the thousands who packed themselves into the Mohegan Sun Arena last Monday.

Williams rounds the ring, stepping towards the steel ring steps and slowly climbing them.

Jesse Williams - Who I saw in my locker room doesn't concern any of you, and it will be dealt with at a time, and place, that none of you will be able to bare witness to.

He enters the ring through the top and middle ropes, immediately turning to face the hard camera.

Jesse Williams - I'm more concerned with the fact that I'm standing here with my NLW Championship on my shoulder, the OWF Title around my waist- but still no Quest For The Best Trophy sitting on my mantle. The reason for that, "The Crucifix" as he has been dubbed, has tried to enstill fear into me leading up to the Pay Per View- and now he wants to continue with his trend as we move away from Quest For The Best by interruping something he had no business being a part of. By my count, this thing is going to run it's course when he runs out of sins to punish people for in about a week or two. And when we get to that point, this guy is going to have a lot of problems.

Jesse ignores the constant booing, and pulls himself away from the camera- backing to the middle of the ring.

Jesse Williams - Not from me, because he hasn't laid a finger on me- which of course sets you all in the direction to believe that it's me. Believe what you want, but I already have the entire federation out to rip my head from my neck. I don't need to give them any additional reasons to come after me, and because of that I wouldn't be stupid enough to try. But, the problems brought onto the Crucifix will hardly concern me and I've wasted enough time on the subject...

Jesse spits a wad of saliva down to the canvas, pausing for only a second.

Jesse Williams - I'm more focused on continuing with my ceremony, and having my Trophy awarded to me.

An enraged crowd plasters Jesse with a chorus of boo's, so loud that he is forced to keep himself silent for a few additional seconds.

Jesse Williams - Boo me all I want, but I'm not moving from this spot until your President walks through the curtains with five pounds of gold and polished wood, molded into a perfect centerpiece of my den.

Falcoon - This guy is out of control.

Kissens - His actions have taken over, and it has exceeded his ego.

Dunn - Oh stop it, he just wants what is deservedly his.

Jesse Williams - That's fine, your Addiction is ruined and your money has been wasted by Specter. So please, everyone stand up and say "Thank y-"

PA System - Tonight's your lucky fucking night.

Says the voice of the Venetian Vandal to an arena full of fans that may or may not remember the glory days of MVW. The surf guitar sweetness of The Dead Kennedys' rendition of "Viva Las Vegas" assaults the ears of the audience, leaving images of gambling and debauchery dancing in their heads.

Kissens - Specter is here, y'all!

Through the curtains, the President of the OWF, Specter, walks out onto the stage- holding the 2009 Quest For The Best Trophy with both of his hands, and staring directly into the ring.

Dunn - And he's got the trophy.

Falcoon - I can't believe he's doing this.

Dunn - It's his job.

A wide smile is seen across Jesse's face as Specter trots down the ramp, eventually reaching the ringside area. He places the trophy onto the outside apron, and rolls himself into the ring under the bottom ropes. After standing himself up, President Specter reaches over the top rope and grabs the trophy with both hands and lifts it over the ropes. He turns himself around, holding the trophy, and walks straight towards Jesse. His music fades out as he releases his grip of the trophy with his left hand, and snatches the microphone from Williams' hand.

Dunn - Do your job!

Kissens - Let him speak, he's the President!

Specter lifts the microphone up to his lips, with the fans quieting down to hear his words.

Prez Specter - Take the fucker.

He shoves the trophy into Jesse's chest with his right arm, and releases it as Jesse scrambles to catch it before it hits the ground. President Specter drops the microphone, and leaves to a huge ovation from the sold out crowd.

Falcoon - That'ta way Specter!

Dunn - What a jerk.

Williams bends over and places the trophy on the mat as Specter exits the ring, and begins to retreat up the ramp. Jesse grabs the microphone with his free right hand and scoops it off of the mat.

Jesse Williams - That's it! That's it!? Wait, where are you going?! Get back here and announce me as the winner!

President Specter keeps on walking, ignoring the raging Jesse Williams.

Jesse Williams - I'm talking to you, god damn it! I'm your Champion! I am the OWF!

Specter disappears through the curtains, receiving an even more boisterous ovation after he vanishes to the back. The cameras cut back to the ring as Williams paces back and forth, listening to the rowdy crowd who seems only energized by their President's actions.

Kissens - Jesse is really out there, y'all.

Falcoon - The last time he and reality were in contact was months ago.

Jesse Williams - How fucking typical! First I have every supporter who ever cheered me on turn their backs on me, and now I have a guy who should be the one competitor who respects what I have done since January, who is also my Boss, giving me the cold shoulder. Everyone associated with the OWF is a fucking piece of shit by my standards, myself included.

Williams hangs hims arms up over the top rope, looking into the crowd.

Jesse Williams - But that's not a new realization. In fact, I learned that back in September of last year when I faced a competitor who didn't bleed crimson red and black. A man who, if everything was set to go his way, would have destroyed this federation and laughed at it's funeral. That same man is about the only person I can respect now, and I'd be foolish not to.

He steps away from the side of the ring, rounding back towards the center of the canvas.

Jesse Williams - Respect goes a long way in this business, and I learned a lot from EJ Slayer at Drift & Die when it came to respect for myself. I learned that I didn't have to cater to anyone besides myself, and what I wanted to accomplish. That my success didn't rest on how loud you fickle-fucks reacted when I came through those curtains. And no longer did I have to jump from third-story tall perches or collapse the skull of my opponent with a blunt object to come out victorious.

Jesse pauses to take a deep breath, then quickly continues.

Jesse Williams - At Quest For The Best, for the first time, he showed me respect- even through means he wanted to gain for himself. But for that, I cannot speak on his behalf. Rather, I'd like to invite EJ Slayer out here to be a part of this ceremony- considering I'd never be the superstar I was today if it wasn't for him.

The crowd erupts in a chorus of boos as "Binge and Purge" hits, and EJ Slayer Slayer makes his way to the ring. Random trash is thrown his way as he walks down the aisle and enters the ring. Jesse extends his hand to Slayer, and after a moment Slayer accepts and shakes his hand, causing the crowd to roar even louder with disapproval.

Falcoon - I think I'm going to be sick.

EJ Slayer - You're right Jesse, respect does go a long way, much farther than sheer talent would ever get you in this business. Respect for your other competitors, respect for this business, and most of all, respect for yourself. You understood that. The rest of this company? They haven't a god damned clue.

The fans start a "Slayer sucks" chant, but Slayer brushes it off.

EJ Slayer - At Quest for the Best I went through competitor after competitor, and they all showed me the same thing: a lack of respect. No respect for my abilities, and no respect for their own limitations. I spent the evening making former World Champions and so-called "elite talents" tap out like little bitches, and when it came to the finals... I couldn't do it.

Slayer pauses, letting the crowd think about what he means for a moment.

EJ Slayer - I couldn't be this company's "hero" I couldn't put an end to the reign of the one man who "gets it". The fans of this company and the boys in back all say this company deserve better, but to that I ask why? Why would you deserve better than the man that's held that title for a year? Why would you deserve better than the only man besides me smart enough to know the truth of this business? It's a silly little pipe dream, and the longer this goes on the more idiotic you all look for calling for it. This man is your champ, and you damn well better enjoy it.

With that, Slayer throws down the mic, raising Jesse's arm in the air. The fans are about ready to riot as the two men exit the ring, taunting the fans at ringside as they do.

Dunn - Oh yes, Slayer and Williams. The best duo in the world!

Kissens - I almost want to argue with that point, but I can't.

Falcoon - We may have just witnessed the forging of a force, the likes never seen before.

Kissens - And the show has barely started.

Dunn - Intro time. This is going to be a great night.

The feed fades away from the two competitors, and into the Monday Addiction Opening Video Package.

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 Quest For The Best, 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.

The feed comes back upon the darkened Times Union Center in Albany, New York -- which is completely sold-out. "I Get It" by Chevelle continues to pump through the PA System as red and white pyrotechnics shoot off across the stage and around the OWF-Tron -- which is playing the same video package shown in the show opening. The fans can be heard cheering at the top of their lungs, although drowned out mostly by the fireworks and music. Eventually the pyro dies off, and the house lights return to normal in the Arena. The camera feed cuts all around the crowd, getting shots of the different sections of fans as "I Get It" eventually fades out.

The feed then cuts to ringside, and a shot of the announcers table. Sitting there, all attentively staring at the camera, we see Gordie Falcoon, James Dunn and Jackie Kissens -- with a bunch of fans behind them, standing and cheering.

Falcoon - Well, I haven't said it in a while so... AAAAHHHHOOOO!

Kissens - That's how you start a Monday Addiction.

Dunn - Personally I think Jesse did a great job.

Falcoon - You're entitled to your opinion.

Kissens - But tonight isn't about Jesse... for once.

Falcoon - Jackie is right. Tonight we have Two Title Matches that are both going to be hotly contested.

Dunn - Steel and GI because the new guy wants to make a name, and Steel wants a victory after losing to Dude JoB.

Kissens - And there is no explanation needed for why the Main Eventers hate each other.

Falcoon - Nope. Just watch the past few shows and that should be as clear as day.

The camera feed cuts backstage and JC notices Trent Steel preparing for his match in the hallways of the Arena.

JC - Trent, we need to talk.

Trent Steel - What is it, I'm a little busy.

JC - I've got a favor to ask.

Trent Steel - What, do you want me to take it easy on your brother? Save some for you? They call me "the son of a bitch" for a reason, and it's not taking it easy on people.

JC - Actually, I was going to say the opposite. This match is PDA rules, that gives you ample opportunity to hurt him. I'd appreciate it if you could just eliminate GI from the picture tonight.

Trent Steel - Can't do it yourself?

JC looks at Trent, noticeably irritated.

Trent Steel - Chill out, I'm just trying to get a rise out of you. That's kind of my thing.

JC - I've noticed.

Trent Steel - Your brother is interfering in your business, so he's interfering in Rogues business. Not that I need a reason to hurt someone.

JC - If you need a target, he has a history of a weak knee. It's the one with the brace on it. Do the OWF a favor and make GI wish he stayed retired.

Trent Steel - Will do.

JC walks away and Trent grabs his Blood Championship belt and heads to the ring. The feed cuts back to the announcers booth at ringside.

Falcoon - Well, that's pretty cold.

Dunn - JC and GI have issues to work out, but Steel may solve them here tonight.

The camera pans to the right, picking up Missy Janson as she rises from her steel chair placed at the time keepers table. She pulls a microphone off of it with her right hand, and heads towards the ring.

Kissens - Speaking of that, looks like that match is coming up right now.

Falcoon - And it's in Trent's playground -- PDA Rules.

Dunn - If GI wanted a test, he definitely has one tonight.

Missy quickly climbs up the steps and makes her way onto the ring apron. From there she steps through the ropes and enters the ring.

Falcoon - Lets just hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew.

Kissens - He may have with JC giving his tag team partner the free will to do to his brother as he wishes.

Dunn - We'll find out.

Falcoon - Indeed. So let's send it to Missy so we can get this contest underway.

Missy Janson makes her way to the center of the ring and turns to face the live cameras as she lifts the microphone up to her mouth.

Missy Janson - Hello fans, and Welcome to Monday Addiction!

A very nice applause comes from the crowd, as Missy continues on -- now speaking over their combined voices.

Missy Janson - It is time for our first match, which is scheduled for a one-fall under PDA Rules with a time-limit of sixty minutes -- and it is for the OWF Blood Tag Team Championship!

The fans roar in excitement, causing Missy to pause before continuing on with her introductions. The crowd quickly settles down, prompting Missy to speak again.

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".

Falcoon - GI has been rather impressive in his last few showings.

Dunn - Adrian Jackson and Thunder were another two who looked good in their first few matches.

Falcoon - Point taken.

His music fades out and he positions himself in his corner, awaiting his opponent. Missy lifts the microphone back up to her mouth.

Missy Janson - And his opponent, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania... He is the Current OWF Blood Tag Team Champion... "The Son of a Bitch" Trent Steel!

PA System - Now you're messing with a son of a bitch.

With a wide smile upon his face, Trent Steel walks through the curtains with the OWF Blood Tag Team Title strapped around his waist. He glances at the ring while his music blares loudly. The fans gives him a mixed reaction the moment they lay eyes on him. He takes slow steps as he walks down the ramp and approaches the ring. Trent keeps the anticipating at an all time high as he plays mindgames with his opponent by taking so long to get the ring. Steel slides under the bottom rope, positioning himself in the ring before pushing himself up and staring right at his opponent.

Falcoon - Trent looks focused.

Kissens - As always.

His music fades as the men take up positions in their corners, with the referee approaching Trent and being handed the Blood Tag Team Title. He returns to the center of the ring and holds the belt high above his head, before passing it to Missy as she exits the ring.

Dunn - Every time Trent enters that ring, he has a goal in mind.

Falcoon - And tonight it's the destruction of GI.

The referee calls for the bell as Missy steps to the outside.

(Ding, Ding, Ding...)

The two competitors head towards the center of the ring, with both men waiting for the other to start off the action. Trent Steel does so by shoving GI upon his chest, causing him to backpeddle slightly. GI doesn't take well to this and steps forward, pushing Trent right back. As if on cue the two men grab a hold of each other in a tight grapple. The jock for position, trying to gain the upper hand in the collar and elbow tie-up with GI eventually pushing Steel down to his back. Trent somersaults over onto his feet and immediately sprints at GI, who turns himself to the left to bring the sole of his left boot into Steel's gut. He is doubled over from the kick, allowing GI to walk toward the nearest corner -- which he begins to ascend.

Dunn - If he gets up top, Trent may find himself in trouble.

Falcoon - He's going for the CodeRed, and if he hits it it will be more than trouble.

Steel drops to the mat once he sees GI on the top rope, and rolls under the bottom rope to get to the outside of the ring. The fans give Trent a hasty reaction as he rounds the ring, walking away from GI. Once he notices Trent on the outside, GI hops off of the top rope and lands on his feet on the concrete floor at ringside. He begins to follow Trent who picks up his pace and slides back into the ring, barely avoiding being grabbed by GI. As soon as he returns to the ring, Trent slingshots himself over the top rope and flies down at the unsuspecting GI -- connecting with a springboard plancha that sends both men to the floor.

Kissens - It's not just the extreme element that Trent has in his favor, he can also dish out a lot of pain without weapons.

Dunn - It's true, but sometimes he just chooses to use them.

Falcoon - Because he's a psychopath.

Dunn - Exactly.

Kissens - A likeable psychopath, y'all.

Steel is able to get himself up almost immediately, while GI rolls onto his right side in a bit of pain. Trent uses his free time to duck his head under the skirt of the ring apron, as he begins fumbling around for a weapon. He pulls out a barbed wire baseball bat, sending the crowd into a loud hum as GI returns to his feet and leans himself against the ring post on the outside. Noticing his opponent is back to his feet, Trent weilds the bat behind his head and swings it wildly -- but at the last second GI ducks down to the concrete, laying himself upon his stomach to avoid the strike. The barbed wire baseball bat shatters across the steel ring post, sending shards of wood flying into the crowd while the wire itself gets caught up around the steel post.

Dunn - GI is lucky he dodged that.

Falcoon - Otherwise he would have been nothing more than mince meat for Steel to scavenge over.

After hitting the ground, GI crawls away from Steel while reaching under the ring apron. As he stands he pulls out a ten foot steel ladder, and immediately tosses it at the Champion as he turns around. Steel is met with the cold steel of the ladder as it smashes up against his face and chest -- thus sending him down to a seated position on the concrete. GI wastes no time in walking towards Trent and picking the ladder up off of him, eventually sliding it into the ring before turning his attention back to his opponent.

Kissens - GI seems to have some sort of an idea of how to fight in these conditions.

Falcoon - A ladder is a great weapon.

Dunn - A big, heavy mass of solid steel? Yeah, I'd agree with you there.

GI reaches down and grabs Trent by his hair with both hands before slowly dragging him up to his feet. He rolls Trent into the ring directly next to the ladder, and eventually joins the Champion and the inanimate object just a second later. Instead of continuing his assault on Steel, GI reaches down and grabs the ladder before turning to the nearest corner -- laying it up against the turnbuckles. He takes too long in doing so as Trent is able to return to his feet, and he sneaks up behind GI -- hooking him between his legs, and rolling him down to his shoulders with a school boy pin. The referee dives in and makes the count, 1... 2... GI somersaults backwards out of the pin and returns to his feet in the middle of the ring. Without hesitation he breaks off into a full-on sprint at Steel who is still laying on his left side. As he reaches his opponent, Trent wraps both of GI's ankles with his legs -- executing a textbook drop toe hold that trips up GI, and drives his face right upon one of the rungs of the ladder he set up in the corner.

Dunn - Ouch!

Falcoon - Maybe it was a mistake going to the hardware.

Kissens - He'd have to deal with it at some point.

Dunn - But maybe he'll end up living to regret busting out the ladder as his first weapon.

A wide gash opens up across GI's forehead, while Steel slowly pushes himself up to his knees. Once there he grabs GI by his hair, and starts to stand himself up while dragging the Challenger back to his feet. As the two men stand, Trent steps forward and delivers a sharp palm thrust to the throat of GI -- choking him up for a moment as he hangs his head. In doing so, he leaves himself wide open for Steel -- who swings his right arm forward, and executes a European Uppercut as he brings his bicep up to the jaw of the Challenger. He doesn't hit the mat, but he staggers backwards enough that Trent can get a running start at him. In charging full speed, Trent has no time to react as GI plants both of his feet and catches Steel around his midsection -- immediately tossing the Champion over his head, and sending him crashing into the ladder with a devastating Belly to Belly Suplex. Trent's body rolls down the ladder and he eventually flops down onto his back on the mat, while GI rolls himself onto his stomach and sets his eyes to Trent.

Dunn - Beautiful counter by GI.

Falcoon - He's going to need more of that to topple Steel here tonight.

GI crawls over his chest, with the referee sliding in to make the count. 1... 2... The referee stops the count, noticing as Steel places his right boot over the bottom rope.

Falcoon - See, he's not quite dead yet.

GI stands himself up, looking very frustrated while Steel lays on the mat holding his back. The Challenger walks to the corner and grabs a hold of the ladder -- turning it horizontally, and laying it across the middle ropes in the corner. GI turns himself around and walks back towards Trent, picking him up by his hair and standing him back to his feet. As he stands back up, Steel throws desperation strikes at his opponent's face -- connecting with a hard right fist that knocks GI for a loop. Trent uses this opportunity to turn his back to GI and take off towards the opposite set of ropes. He turns to hit them back-first, and sprints back at GI who has already recovered by the time Steel gets within striking distance. The Challenger leaps into the air and nails a leaping Superkick, knocking Trent flat to his back and sending blood running from his mouth.

Kissens - Vandaminator!

Dunn - Lets just call it a jumping superkick.

Kissens - Deal, y'all.

Falcoon - Whatever you call it, Steel may be out!

GI scrambles as he falls to his knees and lays over Trent Steel's chest. The referee drops to his knees and administers the count. 1... 2... Trent thrusts his left shoulder up off of the mat at the last second, with GI's eyes growing even more wide with every near fall. He stands himself up in a rage, and drags Steel off of the mat in one quick movement. As he does so, Trent is able to push himself away from GI -- before spinning around and bringing the laces of his right boot directly across the left side of GI's face. The roundhouse kick dazes GI as he stumbles forward, right into the front face lock applied by Trent. The Champion falls back and drives GI down right upon the crown of his head with such force, that the DDT flips him over onto his back. As GI clutches his head and neck, Trent casually rolls out of the ring and stands himself upon the concrete outside of the ring.

Falcoon - Nice combination by Steel to get himself back in control.

Kissens - He's coming our way, y'all!

Dunn - Don't make eye contact, he'll just focus on GI if we don't bother him.

He walks past the announcers booth and shoves Missy out of her chair, grabbing it and closing it up. Trent returns towards the ring with the steel chair in hand, and dives back into it under the bottom ropes. He immediately opens the chair and sets it up near the middle of the ring, before returning to GI and grabbing him on both sides of his head. He slowly pulls the Challenger back to his feet, but immediately sends him running towards the ropes with an irish whip the moment he stands. GI bounces off the ropes, back-first, and sprints back at Steel who hits the mat once again -- looking for a second drop toe hold, this time onto the chair. GI is keen to the idea and stops himself short before bringing a sharp stomping boot down into Trent's chest. Instead of following up, GI turns and hits the ropes he was just sent off of while Steel cautiously returns to his feet. As he does so GI leaps into the air and secures a front face lock -- then spins himself and Trent around. GI falls to his back, and crushes the face of Steel down onto the steel seat of the chair with Tornado DDT.

Kissens - Holy...

Falcoon - Talk about making the best of a bad situation.

Dunn - GI improvised there, and it paid off big time.

Both Trent Steel and GI lay on their backs for the moment, with GI making movements towards his left side. He is able to pull himself up onto his left hip and lay his upper body over Trent's chest. The referee drops down to the mat and begins the count. 1... 2... Again Trent throws his left shoulder up, just in time to beat the three count.

Dunn - But there's no quit in Steel.

Falcoon - GI had to expect that coming in.

Kissens - If he didn't, then he was never really prepared.

The fans are very into the match as GI slowly stands himself back to his feet, and begins to argue with the referee. He only bickers with him for a few seconds before kicking aside the destroyed steel chair, and pacing back towards Trent. As GI reaches down and grabs a hold of him by his hair, he eyes up the ladder he placed between the ropes. The second he gets Trent back to his feet he takes a hold of him by his right arm and irish whips him towards the corner. Steel is unable to stop himself and crashes, chest-first, right into the ladder which remains laid upon the two middle ropes. He slowly stumbles around but notices the foot of GI being flung at his head. Trent has enough time to duck under the kick, and pull himself around behind GI.

Dunn - He was going for another Van Daminator!

Kissens - You mean, jumping superkick?

Dunn - Right!

Falcoon - Again, call it what you will but if he connects with another we could see Steel fall.

As GI turns himself to face Trent, he notices Steel swinging his right boot up at his head for another roundhouse kick -- but GI captures it, and pulls it to his chest, with his right arm. He doesn't keep Trent on his left foot for long as he throws his right boot down to the mat, and fires back at Steel -- connecting with a toe kick to his abdomen. Steel bends over a bit, allowing GI to tuck his head between his legs. He shifts his body around to face the corner with the ladder laid on the middle ropes, and bends down to wrap his arms around Trent's midsection. He picks Trent up onto his shoulders into a powerbomb position, but Trent fights with everything he has.

Dunn - Trent got out of it!

Kissens - Barely!

After a few moments of struggle, Steel is able to slide down GI's back and land on his feet behind him. When he turns around to confront Steel, Trent ducks down and dips his shoulder into the gut of GI -- hoisting him onto his shoulders with a standing firemans carry. He spins his body around, making GI's head point towards the corner.

Falcoon - What is he going to do?

Steel dives out and drives the back of GI's head and neck down onto the ladder with a Death Valley Driver. The impact is so great that the ladder dents heavily, but is still hung up on the middle ropes.

Dunn - PITTSBURGH NIGHTMARE ONTO THE LADDER!

GI flops down to the mat, clearly conconscious while Steel collapses on top of him. The referee dives into place to make the count.

Kissens - Put it in the books, y'all.

1... 2... GI throws his right shoulder up at the last millisecond, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

Falcoon - He kicked out!?

Dunn - I'm shocked...

Trent Steel is absolutely furious as he rises himself up to his unsteady legs and brings the lifeless GI back up to his. He tucks the challengers head between his legs and positions himself to face the corner with the dented ladder in it. With one movement he bends forward and hoists GI up over his shoulder -- holding him a crucifix position over his head.

Kissens - Trent is going to kill him!

Falcoon - The Eradication right after the Pittsburgh Nightmare may be too much!

Steel dives forward and drops GI onto the ladder -- which breaks clear in half from the impact of the Crucifix Powerbomb. Steel grabs a hold of GI's foot and pulls him off of the broken ladder -- laying him flat on the canvas before laying on top of him.

Dunn - That's it.

The referee dives in to make the cover. 1... 2... 3!

Missy Janson - The winner of this match and STILL OWF Blood Tag Team Champion... Trent Steel!

Dunn - What a brutal match.

Kissens - And Steel retains due to the level of violen--

As Trent has the OWF Blood Tag Team Title returned to him, Dude JoB hops over the steel barricade as he enters from the crowd.

Falcoon - It's DJ! What the hell does he have in his hand.

Dunn - It looks like a blowtorch...

DJ slides into the ring with the lit blowtorch and a bottle of liquid. After returning to his feet, GI starts to back off as Trent grabs him from behind in a reverse waist lock -- and slams him down with a release German Supex. After returning to his feet, Trent grabs the torch and the bottle from Dude JoB.

Kissens - Oh come on.

He pops off the cork with his mouth as GI starts to get up slowly, with the fans booing the impending doom GI is faced with. BLACK FIREBALL TO THE FACE!

Falcoon - WHAT THE...

Kissens - Jesus christ, Gordie!

The fans all drop silent as GI rolls around on the canvas, holding his face in a lot of pain. Trent hands the blowtorch back to Dude JoB, who estinguishes it while Steel walks towards the side of the ring. He calls for a microphone from Missy.

Dunn - Oh he's going to talk, too? Why not just slit GI's throat and save him the torture.

Missy Janson obliges and walks to the ring, handing Steel a microphone. He stands himself up and brings the microphone to his lips.

Trent Steel - Win. Lose. It's if I let you live through the game...Welcome to MY Federation!

He drops the microphone to the mat and exits the ring with Dude JoB at his side.

Dunn - The old Trent Steel is back.

Falcoon - And that's not a good thing for anybody involved with him.

Kissens - Unless you're on his side, y'all.

Dunn - The Rogues grow stronger with every passing day.

Falcoon - I fear for the federation, and anyone who crosses them.

Trent and Dude JoB eventually disappear behind the curtains, while EMT's rush down to the ring to check on the condition of GI.

Falcoon - And as for GI, I did say I hoped he didn't bite off more than he could chew.

Kissens - I doubt anyone was prepared for what we just witnessed.

The camera feed cuts away from the ring, as we end up backstage where Tyler Taylor is standing by with JC.

Falcoon - And there's half of the reason why GI got burned tonight.

Tyler Taylor - I'm here with JC, who has asked for this time to address some issues here in OWF.

JC - Issues is putting it mildly, Tyler.

Tyler Taylor - My first question is this, what do you have to say for yourself after your gruesome attack of The Avenger last week?

JC - That was an attack? I just decided to not mess around and take him out. He is a superhero, after all.

JC smirks and laughs to himself. Taylor looks visibly disgusted.

JC - It's just one less joke on the roster Tyler. I told you, I became lackadaisical in my approach to this place. I thought removing CJ would end everything but OWF's still suffering from it's cancer, and I'm the only physician capable of cutting that cancer out.

Tyler Taylor - May I ask who your other targets are going to be?

JC - Oh I'll gladly give them some warning. Maybe they'll clean up their act. You have this guy Crucifix hanging everyone up like it's Christmas. Nietzsche said God is dead, and so is the concept of sin. Your gimmick is tired and so is this idea that you are saving OWF. Let's make one thing clear...I am OWF's savior...not you.

Tyler Taylor - You mentioned recently that you know who Crucifix is...care to elaborate?

JC - I'd rather not. But I discovered who it was through some research, and I'm waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Tyler Taylor - Anyone else?

JC - There's always Jesse Williams...but he's irrelevant. El Plaga...oh man.

Tyler Taylor - What about them?

JC - It seems I couldn't shut them up when I took this beautiful tag title...

JC lifts up the Tears Championship belt over his shoulder.

JC - ...away from them. No, they're content to pollute the airwaves of the OWF Network with their insignificant melodrama. Who cares if El Plaga is splitting up? Not a damn soul. To care if those two are splitting up is to care that they were around to begin with, and let's face it, no one does. Ray Lopes, who managed to take the Network title and keep it from remaining a joke, is caught in the middle. I've got half a mind to do something to El Plaga tonight. Make them my next victims and prove to OWF that I still have it's best interests at heart. Fun can't kill you, El Plaga...but JC will destroy you.

JC walks off, laughing to himself, leaving Tyler alone. The camera feed cuts back to the announcers booth at ringside.

Falcoon - So he's not done with his path of destruction.

Dunn - Did you ever think he would be?

Kissens - You had to assume that he'd be content with the list of names he has put out of commission.

Dunn - He wants bigger and better things.

Falcoon - And we all know that JC is a man who takes something if he wants it.

Dunn - Very true.

Kissens - Hopefully he just keeps his nose out of the Main Event, as we have enough drama with those three already.

Falcoon - Speaking of that, right after this break we will bring you the OWF Caribbean Title Triple Threat Match.

---

LIVE! SUNDAY, MAY 31ST 2009! * EARLY AFTERNOON SHOW -- BELLTIME AT 4PM CST * FROM THE REDBIRD ARENA IN NORMAL, ILLINOIS!

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.

---

The cameras open back up with a shot of the announcers booth. All three commentators are staring straight on into the camera in front of them.

Dunn - And we're back. I was hoping we'd get a few teams announced this week.

Falcoon - That's for another time.

Kissens - With our small roster, we're going to have some interesting combinations.

Gordie lifts his right hand up to his ear, and presses his index finger upon it.

Falcoon - Hold that thought, Jackie. I just got word Garrett Greene has got a one on one interview with Jesse Williams.

Dunn - YES! More from the Champion!

Kissens - This is going to spike down the ratings.

Dunn - Spike down? Oxymoron.

Kissens - Hey! No name calling!

We cut backstage to see Garrett Greene outside of Jesse's lockerroom.

Garrett Greene - Are we on? Cool. Now folks in just a moment we are going to have a exclusive--

We hear mariachi music playing from inside.

Falcoon - The hell?

Suddenly from the room comes Dude JoB wearing a tye dye poncho, big mustache, a black domino mask, and a sumbero.

Dude JoB - AYIYIYIYIYIYIYIY!!! I am Jessito Papito Williamzo...I am also the Frito Bandito.

Garrett Greene - What the hell?

Dude JoB - Sorry I gotta do this...hey NLW fans...OLLLEEEEEE!!!!

Garrett Greene - What the...Dude JoB what are you doing?

Dude JoB - I am not Dude Juan. I am Jessito Papito. I am here for my interview AYAYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYIYI

Garrett Greene - ...I'm outta here. This is horse shit.

Dude JoB - NO that is what is going to be coming out in a bit. I had a taco supreme with extra beans. VIVA LA STEREOTYPO!!!

We see Trent Steel, Joe Cool, and Plauge walk in from off screen.

Trent Steel - What the?...Is that a mariachi band in our locker room?

Dude JoB - CI!!!

Plague and JC are laughing their asses off as Trent just sighs.

Dude JoB - Wanna hat dance?

Trent busts out laughing as soon as that is uttered. The feed cuts away from the backstage area, and back to the announcers booth at ringside.

Dunn - That was such crap.

Kissens - I thought it was kind of funny.

Falcoon - The Rogues sure are enjoying themselves.

Dunn - As they should, they entail more than a third of the federation.

The cameras pan to the right as Missy Janson stands up from her seat at the time keepers table, holding a microphone in her right hand. She steps off towards the nearest corner of the ring, and begins to ascend the steel ring steps.

Falcoon - And another third is about to compete right here.

Kissens - They aren't a cohesive unit by any stretch of the term, y'all.

Dunn - You could say that again.

She makes her way up to the apron, and briefly steps onto it before stepping through the ropes and entering the ring. She moves off into the center of the squared circle, and turns herself to face the live cameras.

Falcoon - Hopefully they get some closure tonight.

Dunn - I'd assume the fans want some as well.

Kissens - I don't believe anyone will get it tonight.

Falcoon - You're most likely right.

She lifts the microphone up to her mouth as she stares into the live feed.

Dunn - Well lets find out if this can be fixed with a simple set of fisticuffs.

Missy Janson - Ladies and gentlemen it is time for the Main Event of the Evening!

A nice ovation comes from the crowd as a mass of fans start to return to their seats, while others just start to take note of Missy's position.

Missy Janson - It is scheduled for a one-fall with a sixty minute time limit -- and it is for the OWF Caribbean Championship!

The fans explode as they rise to their feet, highly anticipating the Main Event to commence.

Missy Janson - Coming to the ring first, from Manugua, Nicaragua... Vernon Somoza!

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 holler as Somoza walks out with Tan Fatigues on a Military Generals coat and a Military green hat on. He has on Sunglasses smoking a large Cigar and carries the Nicaraguan Flag on a pole and waves it towards the crowd. He walks towards the ring blowing smoke into the air, while slapping a few hands of the fans. He steps up onto the ring apron, and into the ring, and places the flag atop one of the corners and Salutes it. Then he stands atop the turnbuckles and waves it as the fans cheer him loudly.

Falcoon - Vernon is going to have another shot at gold here.

Dunn - He's more focused on killing Lopes.

His music fades out while Missy lifts the microphone up to her lips again.

Missy Janson - And one of his opponents, from Haiti... Porta Prince!

Red and blue pyro fall over the stage with "Welcome To Jamrock" playing.

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

Pyro stops and Porta Prince appears as if he was behind it the whole time. Smoke flies out of his nose as he goes towards the ring with nothing but a spotlight on him. As he rolls into the ring, he gets up drapes himself over the ropes with a hand raise as red & blue pyro goes off behind him.

Kissens - The former Champion has two issues to settle here tonight.

Porta's music fades out as he backs into his corner, keeping an eye on Somoza.

Falcoon - Looks like he's focused on his former partner.

Dunn - It's a weird triangle.

Missy brings the microphone up to her mouth once more.

Missy Janson - And finally, from Los Angeles, California... He is the Current reigning OWF Caribbean Champion... Ray Lopes!

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

"Step Back" by Brisco & Joe Budden blasts over the PA system as the fans all rise to their feet and unleash a smatter of boo's for Ray Lopes as he makes his way down to the ring -- the OWF Caribbean Championship hung over his right shoulder. He scowls at the fans along the way and then slides inside the ring, immediately setting his sights on both of his opponents.

Dunn - And there's the Champion, who should be concerned with only preserving himself.

Kissens - You're right, if he worries too much about his opponents he's going to end up losing before the match even starts.

Ray's music fades out as he backs into his corner. The referee approaches and Lopes hands him the Caribbean Championship -- which he takes to the center of the ring to hold high above his head. He then passes the belt over to Missy who makes a prompt exit through the ropes, and returns to her seat at the time keepers table.

Falcoon - Looks like we're about ready to go.

(Ding, Ding, Ding...)

All three men rush into the center of the ring, set for a collision course. Vernon throws his right foot up towards Lopes' face, while Ray brings his right elbow away from his chest -- thrusting it toward the skull of Porta. Meanwhile, Porta unrolls his right arm from behind his ear and sends a haymaker towards Somoza. All three men connect with each other, instantly falling into a slight daze.

Dunn - And we're off already!

Kissens - Wasting no time!

The most wary of the group proves to be Vernon Somoza, who shakes the cobwebs free and wraps Ray around the back of his head with both hands. He pulls him away from the recovering Prince, and leans him against the ropes -- before thrusting his right knees upward into Ray's chest. He is about to stagger the Champion a bit, releasing his grip and allowing him to stand back up. This proves to be a mistake as Ray jumps into the air and places both of his feet onto the extended thighs of Vernon. While perched there, Ray secures a greco-roman knuckle lock with both hands and spins himself around. With Prince getting his footing finally, Lopes rolls backwards and monkey flips Somoza into the air. His legs extended and partially spread, he flies at Porta who's only reaction is to grab his former partner around his waist -- then dump him down right onto the back of his head with a Powerbomb.

Falcoon - Was that teamwork?

Kissens - If it was, it spells serious bad news for Somoza.

Dunn - I don't know if it matters, that powerbomb could have crippled a lot of people.

Vernon rolls over onto his stomach, holding the back of his head in a lot of pain while both Ray and Porta rise up to their feet. The two men exchange a glare and begin walking towards one another. They eventually meet in the center of the ring, where words are exchanged -- quickly followed by a series of right and left hands, all of which find their mark. Ray Lopes and Porta Prince go at each other, connecting with closed fists to their opponents face -- but neither give up an inch.

Falcoon - Nevermind.

Although they both begin to tire, they still fire away with Ray nailing a left hook before Porta catches him with a straight left jab to the mouth. Both competitors both break apart, to the applause of the crowd, while they turn themselves to catch their breaths. As they do, Somoza re-emerges and runs up behind Lopes -- grabbing him in a reverse waist lock and dumping him back over his head with a release German Suplex. Lopes slides along the canvas and eventually rolls over onto his stomach from the momentum of the suplex. Somoza stands himself up and looks at Porta, and chooses to go after the fallen Lopes instead. Vernon walks towards the head of the Champion, and gently scoops it off of the mat. He quickly lifts Lopes up across his body and rushes at the corner. He crushes Ray, back-first, into the turnbuckle and turns to slam him down with a running front suplex to complete the Oklahoma Stampede. As he does, Porta steps in and pulls Lopes down the back of Somoza -- freeing him from the move.

Falcoon - What did he do that for? Somoza was about to nail El Pinolero.

Dunn - Probably because the first fall wins it.

Kissens - Or he has a grudge with Somoza for the caning he took.

Vernon turns around and gets into Porta's face, as the two men share words with one another. Ray sneaks away and runs towards the opposite set of ropes.

Dunn - Nevermind that... Watch Lopes!

Lopes leaps into the air as both Somoza and Porta turn to face him -- with both men ending up on the receiving end of a front dropkick, with Ray's left foot hitting Somoza in the jaw, and his right connecting with Porta's nose.

Falcoon - He took advantage of the two men bickering, and they paid for it.

Both men hit the canvas hard, as Ray stands up to bait-on the crowd to give more of a negative reaction. Ray immediately turns back around and scoops Porta up off of the canvas -- pushing him up against the ropes once he returns to his feet. Lopes isolates his right arm by grabbing it around Porta's wrist, and yanks him off of the ropes. He irish whips his opponent across the ring, sending him charging towards the opposite set of ropes. Porta is forced to turn and hit the ropes with his back, bouncing off and heading back to the center of the ring -- where Ray has positioned himself, bent over. As Prince reaches Lopes, he stops short and swings his right foot up to connect with the chest of the Champion. The impact of the kick stands Ray straight-up, which puts him in the line of fire of Prince's swinging right arm. Porta Prince connects with his vicious clothesline -- bringing the bicep of his arm right across the neck of Ray Lopes, and flipping him backwards as he is sent tumbling to the mat.

Dunn - Porta has some unbelievable strength.

Falcoon - Lopes and Somoza probably know the most out of anyone.

Kissens - For completely different reasons, y'all.

Dunn - Until tonight, that is.

Prince drops to his knees as he rolls Ray onto his back and lays across his chest in a lateral press. The referee slides in and makes the count. 1... 2... Somoza dives in and breaks up the pin with a double-axe handle smash to the back of Porta's head, sending him down to the mat right next to Lopes. Vernon now hops over the prone body of the Champion, hooking his right leg up towards his chest as the referee remains on the canvas. He begins the count, 1... 2... but Ray is able to muster enough strength to kick out of it on his own will. Somoza begins to stand back up to his feet, when he's clubbed from behind by Porta with a thrusting forearm. The impact drops Vernon down to his left knee, while Prince reaches down and grabs two handfuls of Somoza's hair. He lifts his opponent back to his feet, and grabs him around his torso in a reverse waist lock.

Falcoon - Porta wants to make sure his former partner doesn't get that Caribbean Title.

Dunn - I'm sure there's a lot of frustration with Somoza basically costing him his match with Plague, and the one with Lopes.

Somoza easily frees himself by pulling Porta's hands apart, and rolls around behind Prince while Ray slowly pushes himself off of the mat. Vernon now grasps Porta in a reverse waist lock, as Lopes squares his shoulders towards the two men. He takes off into a sprint at Prince and extends his right arm away from his body. Just before contact, Prince frees himself and rolls to the side of Somoza -- leaving him wide open as he is decked by a running forearm from the Champion. As Somoza hits the mat Ray shows no signs of regret, as he turns around to confront Porta -- who has already returned to his feet. As the two men lock eyes they immediately break off into another exchange of devastating strikes to one another. Ray hits first with a closed right fist to Porta's jaw, while the Challenger returns fire with a sharp left elbow which he swings up from his side. The point of the elbow connecting with Ray's right cheek bone dazes him, allowing for a short left jab from Porta that catches Lopes just above his right eye.

He steps forward and wraps his right arm around Lopes' head, bending him forward while locking in a front face lock. Porta follows it up by tossing Lopes' right arm over his head, while Somoza finally stands back up to his feet behind Ray. As Porta Prince hoists Ray up into a suplex position, he quickly loses his grip as the Champion floats over and lands on his feet behind his back. Once there he places both of his hands onto the back of Porta and shoves him forward. He stumbles towards Somoza who bends down, grabbing Prince around his thighs and lifting him straight into the air. He lays out and drives Porta straight down to the mat with a huge Spinebuster, with Somoza popping right back up to his feet to stare down Lopes.

Falcoon - A bit of teamwork by Somoza and Lopes.

Dunn - That was all circumstance. Somoza wants nothing to do with Lopes.

Kissens - Unless it comes to him beating Ray to a bloody pulp.

The two men circle around one another for a moment before they lock-up in a collar and elbow tie up. Vernon easily gains the advantage and pulls Ray's right arm around behind his back into a hammerlock. He doesn't keep him in the hold for very long, instead choosing to push Ray away from him and towards the ropes. Ray is forced to turn to his left and hits the ropes with his back, bouncing off of them and staggering forward towards Somoza. He stands in wait as he scoops Ray up across his body and rushes towards the corner -- again crushing Ray up against the turnbuckles. As he tosses Ray up over his shoulder, looking to finish out El Pinolero, somehow Ray is able to force Somoza face-first to the mat -- where he isolates his right arm between his legs, and applies a crossface over his mouth.

Dunn - Lope-a-Dope on Somoza!

Ray wrenches the crippler crossface back as far as he can, while the referee checks on Vernon Somoza. He doesn't give it up, and kicks his legs out looking to find the ropes. He is ultimately freed only a moment later, as a recovered Porta Prince brings the sole of his right boot to the back of Ray's head.

Falcoon - Vernon got lucky there.

Kissens - Didn't look like he'd be able to escape.

Porta continues to stomp away at Lopes, keeping him down upon the mat for a few moments as Ray is forced to absorb blow after blow. Once he feels satisfied, Prince reaches down and peels the Champion off of the canvas -- and immediately digs his right shoulder into his abdomen. He hoists Ray over his shoulders in a standing firemans carry, and proceeds to walk towards the nearest corner. Once there he begins climbing up with Ray still across his shoulders.

Dunn - He's going to go for that Super Death Valley Driver!

Falcoon - We're going to have a new cha--

Just then, Ray swings himself down off of Porta's shoulders and forces him to spin around before crashing down to the mat face-first. Immediately Lopes moves up to his head, grabs Porta's left arm and tucks it between his legs -- locking in a crippler crossface on the Champion now.

Kissens - Now he has Porta in the Lope-a-Dope!

Porta struggles violently, kicking his legs with everything he has -- when Somoza rushes in and boots Lopes right across his face, even sending himself down to the mat from all of the momentum. All three competitors lay on the canvas, exhausted, while they receive a loud ovation from the crowd. The referee returns to his feet and stares down at the three men, waiting for them all to get up.

From the crowd, an unidentified man hops the barricade and grabs the referee's feet under the bottom ropes.

Falcoon - That's PLAGUE!

Dunn - What is he doing here?

Plague pulls the referee to the outside of the ring, and with one throw disables him as his head cracks upon the steel ring post. The fans boo heavily as Plague turns his attention away from the referee, and slides himself into the ring.

Kissens - I don't understand.

Falcoon - Well he did make the claim he wanted the Caribbean Title.

Plague picks himself up to his feet and watches as Somoza and Porta begin crawling up to their hands and knees, while Lopes is already back to his feet -- sporting a bloody nose from Somoza's kick. With a quick side step, Plague obliterates Ray with a Superkick to the jaw -- knocking him flat to his back.

Dunn - The Vaccine on the Champion!

Falcoon - This match has disintegrated into nothing! We get no closure!

While Plague stands over Lopes, both Porta and Vernon have returned to their feet -- and share a glance. They both crouch down behind Plague, waiting for him to turn around. As he does, he is caught with a double-toe kick from both Porta and Somoza before Vernon tucks the head of Plague between his legs -- and turns his back to rest against the turnbuckle pads in one of the corners.

Kissens - El Plaga is teaming up!

Dunn - Really?

Falcoon - This is great!

Porta quickly hops to the outside apron, and scales up to the top of the corner that Somoza positioned himself in. He bends over and lifts Plague up into a powerbomb position, with Porta jumping off of the top rope into a front flip. He grabs Plague's head and falls to the mat, executing a flipping neckbreaker while Vernon Somoza throws him down with ton of force with a Powerbomb. The fans are going wild as both Somoza and Prince return to their feet.

Dunn - ... Really?

Just then we see the rest of the Rogues run down the ramp, with Dude JoB hitting the ring first. He clocks Somoza across the back of his head with a diving elbow strike, while JC waits for Porta to turn around. As he does so, JC unleashes a huge big boot that sends Porta flat down to his back.

Falcoon - God damnit!

Kissens - The Rogues were planning to ruin this from the start.

Trent Steel hobbles into the ring and begins laying boots to Lopes, with all three competitors of the match laid out cold. The fans pelt the ring with garbage as the Rogues stand tall.

Dunn - I'm sure that these three men will have a bone to pick with the Rogues.

Falcoon - A lot of people do, but they are still going strong.

Kissens - Let's just hope someone can do something.

Falcoon - In order to find that out, we'll have to wait until next week.

Dunn - Sounds good to me. Goodnight fans!

The feed cuts away from the shot of the four men, and to the OWF logo. The screen then goes black as the telecast ends.