The scene cuts to the OWF garage where a black limo is just pulling in. The garage door shuts behind the limo as it pulls up for a stop. The camera is walking around the limo to try and see in but it is to dark to see through the windows. A driver gets out of the car and walks to the back of it. He opens the back door as the camera cuts back to the inside of the arena.

The sound of three gunshots go off, each one blasting out an O.W.F. on the screen and the cameras open panning over the crowd. Tonight the crowd is even more excited, showing the support for the main eventers gracing their program. The audience erupts and several differant shots of various places in the crowd show various signs. "Eski-Mania Running Crazy", "Together We Will MASSACRE Them", "ASW World Champ = OWF Midcarder", and "Pin Me, Prissy!" are amoung the more creative signs in the crowd. Mr P stands center ring, remaining silent as the crowd kicks off the program with their screams. After eight seconds of milking the cheers, Perry finally calls out over the crowd.

Mr P: The Tour De Texas is coming to a boiling point here tonight, for our Night In The Cell!

The audience screams out in excitement and the cameras pan over shots of the Hell In A Cell structure looming overhead from various angles.

Mr P: Texas has been great, and we're only four days removed from OWF Proven Innocent, our first Pay Per View event since we returned to salvage professional wrestling for you good people.

The audience cheers out again.

Mr P: Won't it be great to have an entire Pay Per View event without having to see a single member of the Crypt of Blood? Good God, I forgot that it was possable to have title matches that nobody can predict. This isn't ASW. This is the OWF, where truely anything is possable.

The audience screams loudly in approval. For several moments, Perry milks the crowd's reaction. A toothy smile parts his bandages, and the more astute viewer may even notice that the red tie he's sporting with his suit is actually in fact the thirteenth stripe from an American flag. Perry turns towards the big overhead screen which begins to flash an image from backstage. Greg Jackson, Matt Jackson, and Chief Squatting Dan are in the backstage area, more specifically, Greg Jackson's locker room. Greg is already in his wrestling gear, while the other two are wearing white shirts with black lettering which reads, "Team Jackson".

Greg Jackson: Alright guys, Seth Anderson is somewhere in this building! I'm not gonna let him mess up my match with Meca Blight, so let's find him and mess him up REAL GOOD!

Matt Jackson: Let's do it!

Chief Squatting Dan: YEAH! MESS HIM UP GOOD! I hope he's wearing a nice new shirt, cause I'm gonna pour kool-aid on it if he does! YEAH! Mess him up GOOD!

Greg Jackson: Um, right. And if you see Meca Blight, don't be afraid to send him a message too!

Chief Squatting Dan: THAT WASN'T PART OF THE DEAL!

Matt Jackson: What're you talking about? You got a problem beating up Meca?

Chief Squatting Dan: Well... he likes doughnuts!

Greg Jackson: So?

Chief Squatting Dan: Well, I like doughnuts too! It's like we're long lost brothers or something! I don't think I can bring myself to do it...

Greg Jackson: Fine... don't worry about Meca then. Just Seth Anderson. Besides, after I beat Meca, I don't want him to have any excuses anyways!

Chief Squatting Dan: Ok cool. LET'S SPLIT UP!

Matt and Chief bolt out the door, with Matt turning left out the door, Chief turning right. This leaves Greg in the locker room dumbfounded.

Greg Jackson: ...I THOUGHT WE WAS STICKIN' TOGETHER!

Greg's eye's shift nervously from side to side as he slowly exits the locker room on his search for Seth Anderson.

Mr P: As you all can see, tonight is guarunteed to be explosive, unlike Showdown's attempt at having an entire program without booking any of the OWF superstars. Does Kremlin feel intimidated? Let me think.

Perry taps his chin thoughtfully as the audience cracks up laughing. After a few moments, he grins again and guestures up the aisle.

Mr P: Seriously folks, it's a killer line-up here tonight for the Night of the Cell. First off we've got two men who are just dieing to go one more round. Ready to kill themselves here for you one more time, introducing first from Washington DC, weighing in at two hundred thirty five pounds, JAAACK DEEESTIIINY!

Violin Concerto in D Minor begins harmoniously singing out over the PA and Jack Destiny steps through the curtains. Strobbing spotlights glimmer over him as he struts confidentally to the ring, unbuttoning his dress shirt one button at a time, then slipping it off and slinging it over one shoulder. Pausing by ringside, Jack takes off his rayban sunglasses and puts them onto a young fan, smiles and makes the gun-shooting hand guesture at an attractive lady, then rolls into the ring.

Mr P: And his opponant, from Jasper, Arkansas, weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds, JAAASPER RAAAAAGE!

PA System - Gotta make this money, and make this money...

This money is me this money is everything I do and see who you to judge me? "Fist of Rage" by Kid Rock blares over the PA System. Jasper Rage pushes his way out onto the ramp and runs to the ring, he slides under the bottom ropes and runs to the corner where he jumps up onto the top turnbuckle showing his athleticism.

The house lights die. Hoots, hollers, and rebel yells erupt from the rowdy Fort Worth crowd. A teenage girl screams from extremely close to one of the house mics, making Mr. P hard to hear.

Mr. P - We're just having a little technical difficulties, folks, my mic's still on so it can't be anything too ser-

The large screen above the entrance lights up in a solid white, bathing the crowd in an eerie glow. A red T cartwheels across the screen from the right, settling in the left-center of the frame. A V of the same hue drops down from above, settling into the center of the screen. In dead silence, a crimson J dissolves into the right-center of the frame. Three rapid gunshots place the letters LLC below the TVJ in black. Rapid cross-wipe to black, leaving the arena dark again. Some sort of gothic aria begins to pour out of the PA.

Mr. P - Scratch that. We have a situation here.

PA System - Slack motherfucker!

Mr. P - Everybody remain in your seats. Security has this under control.

A loop of the main riff to Superchunk's "Slack Motherfucker" blares out over the public address. There's a screech of distortion, followed by a babble of voices coming over the PA as images flash by on the big screen. The voices are recognizable, to the trained ear, as those of mid-western radio personality Mancow, respected talk show host Larry King, and schlock journalist Geraldo Rivera. As for what the images are of, that's anybody's guess. They appear to just be a blur of black, red, and yellow, with the occasional slowdown in the speed to show a specific detail: a black workboot here, a bike chain there, blonde spikes worthy of a Super Saiyajin. The video cuts jarringly to black again and the music dies. Just as the crowd starts to murmur, the halogens hit the arena. The camera cuts to Mr. P at his table, looking like a Mexican swamp mummy between the bandages and his frozen expression. He throws an arm over his eyes to protect himself from the light.

Mr. P - Myles, if you want to introduce another rookie-

The halogens flick off and the regular house lights come back on. A skeletal hand reaches down and taps Mr. P on the shoulder. In a soft, matter-of-fact tenor, Piter Svoboda replies as the camera pans up to focus squarely on his Slavic nose.

Piter Svoboda - Excuse me?

Mr. P snaps his head around and lurches to his feet, crab-walking along the announce table while pointing an accusing finger at Piter.

Mr. P - Piter, what are... I mean... Hell, last time I checked the sign said Zack Perry presents OWF Heretic...

Piter Svoboda - A little bird told me you wanted to hold an MVW rules match, and hey, I agree. MVW rules! But as Chief Executive Officer of Meaningless Violence Wrestling, I'm gonna have to ask you leave ringside for MY match.

Mr. P - You're not getting away with stuff like this, Piter.

Piter settles into Mr. P's vacated seat, clips on a headset, and puts his feet up.

Svoboda - Oh, please, Zack. I already did.

Svoboda guestures towards the timekeeper and the bell sounds, Destiny lashing forward with a front snap kick. Rage ducks low, diving at Destiny and spearing his far leg. Rage rebounds to his feet, taking Destiny by the ankles and jerking his legs apart with a wishbone legsplitter, then landing a stop to the midsection for good measure. Destiny rolls over holding his groin in pain and Rage gives him a swift kick to the rear, knocking Destiny towards the ropes and leaving him scrambling back to his feet. Rage closes in on Destiny, rushing at him with a running forearm shot, and Destiny ducks low sending Rage over the top rope with a back body drop. Rage crashes to the floor outside and Destiny brushes himself off arrogantly, then turns towards the direction where Rage fell. Rage grabs Destiny by the ankles, pulling his feet out from under him and landing him flat on his back. Rage pulls Destiny out until he's sideways along the apron, then drives a fast elbow shot down over the bridge of Destiny's nose. Sliding back into the ring, Rage takes Destiny by the ankles and tosses him backwards with a catapult, only to bring Destiny's head up under the bottom rope and forcefully rebound him back to the mat by the throat. Dragging Destiny to the center of the ring, Rage makes the cover. 1... 2... Destiny pulls his shoulder up. Rage grabs Destiny by the hair, pulling him back to his feet and Destiny lashes out with a palm strike into Rage's jaw which stuns the smaller man briefly. Stumbling Rage backwards with a forearm shot to the face, Destiny hooks the southern favorite up and lifts him overhead with a vertical suplex, toppling backwards and dropping Rage on the crown of his head. Destiny stands up, turning Rage's leg around into a standing toe twist and Rage bounces on his back following in clockwise circles around Destiny to prevent the hold from being locked down too tight. Destiny turns him over instead into a half Boston crab, but poor ring positioning leaves Rage within arm's length of the ropes which he promptly takes advantage of for the break. Destiny releases him, turning towards the crowd and taking a bow with dramatic flourish as Rage gets back to his feet seeming slightly unnerved. Destiny reaches out for the tie up and Rage reaches out mirroring him, kicking out with a low blow at the last moment which nearly lifts Destiny's feet from the ground. Destiny drops to his knees and Rage grabs him by the hair, kneeing him in the face and knocking him back to the mat. Hooking a leg, Rage makes the cover. 1... 2... Destiny kicks out. Both men get back up. Rage grabbing Destiny by the wrist and sending him to the ropes with an irish whip. Destiny rebounds, coming back at Rage with a head of steam. Rage attempts to leapfrog Destiny, but Destiny snatches him out of mid-air and powerbombs him down hard to the mat. Destiny stands back as Rage gets back to his feet, then unleasches with a flurry of kicks. Rage tries desparately to cover up as Destiny slowly backs him into the corner, ending with a spinning roundhouse kick which slips over Rage's arms to clock him in the temple. Destiny hooks Rage for a ddt, toppling backwards, but Rage reaches out snatching the top rope which jerks him free of Destiny's grasp just before he hits the mat. Rage snatches Destiny up, hoisting him over one shoulder with a scoop slam. Destiny holds his back and rolls to the turnbuckle where he pulls himself back to his feet.

Svoboda appears to have left before the match even finished, leaving only a bored looking set of doodles on Perry's notes on the announce table. Perry takes his seat back, glowering over the papers, then turns on the charm as best he can for a more positive presentation towards the crowd.

Rage runs in for a corner clothesline but Destiny ducks it.. Destiny grabs Rages head.. THE INEVITABLE! 1...2...3...

Mr. P: Your winner Jack Destiny!

Mr P: Incredable match-up. Those two are absolutely vicious in the ring. And remember, Jack Destiny and Jasper Rage are just two of the eight competitors in a gang war for the OWF tag-team titles this Sunday on Pay Per View. Contact your dish providers to order.

On the big screen overhead Meca Blight has an unconscience Seth Anderson over his shoulder pulling him out towards the arena seating area. Suddenly Meca shows up in the middle of a large group of fans. He lowers Seth Anderson then pulls out a long rope. He holds it up as the crowd chants "ALL STAR SUCKS!" He wraps the rope around a large pole and ties Seth Anderson to it as the fans continue to cheer.

A camera cuts back to an office where people are sitting in chairs. There is a lady in a desk signing some papers. The phone rings and the lady picks it up and from what you can hear of the lady she is finishing up a contract signing. There is a door in the corner of the room that says Owner's Office. The camera cuts back to that room with two chairs. Diamond Kid is sitting in one to where you can see him. In the other chair is a man who we can't see, the only thing you can see is the back of the chair and white pant legs and brown Lugz on. The camera cuts back to inside of the arena again.

The big screen image cuts away again, returning backstage where Greg is searching for Seth Anderson in the bathroom area in the back. Greg walks slowly, alert of every sound that he is or isn't hearing. To add to the creepy effect, one faucet is dripping, with the sound echoing throughout the room.

Greg Jackson: Seth... I know you're in here! I know that cause I've checked everywhere else! There's nowhere else for you to hide!

No response. Greg gulps and continues onward. He looks ahead and sees three stalls, all with doors closed. Greg walks up to the first and kicks it open! No one there... Greg walks up to the second door and kicks it open! No one there either! Jeez, that's two locked bathroom stall doors with no one occupying them!

Greg Jackson: Only one door left Seth! Nowhere left to run!

He walks up to the third door and can hear the sound of somebody trembling in fear inside. He kicks the door open!

Greg Jackson: DIE MOTHA FUCKA!

Old Man: Please don't hurt me! I don't know where Seth Anderson is! I swear! OH GOD!

Greg's face-o-rage turns into a embarrassment as he looks at a man on the toilet, petrified, shielding himself with the newspaper he was reading.

Greg Jackson: Oh... sorry.

Greg closes the door, when suddenly a hand grabs him from behind! OH THE HORROR!

Greg Jackson: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Matt Jackson: Relax, it's me. Listen, Meca already got to Anderson.

The two begin walking out of the washroom and down the hall as they continue talking.

Greg Jackson: Oh well that's good, but I still owe him one!

Matt Jackson: Worry about him another night, you've got a match coming up real quick!

As the two walk by, they hear a loud banging and shrieking coming from a small closet. Matt cautiously open the door and see Chief strangling a mop. Chief's face is intense for a moment, before looking over to the Jacksons, and then back to the mop.

Chief Squatting Dan: Oh... Seth Anderson isn't in here, that's for sure! It was DARK in there!

Greg Jackson: Let's go, I got a match to win!

The three continue down the hallway as Greg awaits his match, his biggest of his career. California Love by TuPac can be heard over the PA as Jackson scrambles into position behind the curtain.

Mr P: Introducing first, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds, GREEEG JAAACKSON!

PA System - Cali.... Fornia.. Lovvvvvvvvvvve......

Greg Jackson quickly appears at the entranceway. He stares out at the crowd for a few moments, before making his way down the entranceway. His brother/manager Matt Jackson aka the Massicrist follows shortly after well behind his brother as well as Chief Squatting Dan, and they take their position outside the cell as Greg steps inside and climbs into the ring.

Mr P: And his opponant, from unknown regions of Canada, weighing in at two hundred fifty five pounds, MEEECAAA BLIIIIIGHT!

PA System - Don't call it a comeback!

Meca Blight's voice hits the PA System. The music cuts in and Meca's own version of LL Cool J's "Mamma Said Knock You Out" begins blaring. The fans erupt as Meca Blight steps out onto the entrance ramp. He throws both hands up into the air as a rainbow of pyros blow up from behind him. Meca begins strutting down towards the cell, giving high-fives to the fans as he raps with the music. He steps into the cell, Perry giving him a pat on the back for good luck, then locking it behing him, and Meca rolls into the ring, runs over to the far ropes and begins shaking it furiously, then jumps up onto the closest turnbuckle and throws his arms up for the fans. As the music begins fading away Meca walks around the ring, preparing for his match. Meca lashes out at Jackson before the bell even sounds, throwing his body generally Jackson's direction with his arms and legs all flailing wildly. Jackson steps backwards, Meca landing and hitting nothing, and Jackson quick to start laying the boots to Meca. Meca wraps his arms around Jackson's calf, clamping his teeth down on the side of Jackson' s knee with a big bite. Jackson howls out in pain, driving down a few right hands into the side of Meca's face until he can get Meca off of him. Meca springs back up to his feet, sticking out his tounge as if he has a bad taste in his mouth, and takes a few steps back timidly, putting some distance between himself and Meca. Meca closes in, backing Jackson towards the corner while bobbing from right to left like the head of a snake. Jackson shoots out first with a single leg takedown which catches Meca off-guard. Meca maintains his balance precariously on one leg, looking alot like a ballerina as Jackson spins him in a circle. Catching Meca around the midsection, Jackson plants Meca down with a spinebuster. Jackson takes to the top turnbuckle, perched ready for The Black Jack as Meca gets back to his feet. Jackson leaps from the top, but Meca bends over and begins tieing the laces of his boots again, Jackson accidentally sailing overhead missing his mark as Meca naively kneels below him. Several attempts later, Meca completes a satisfactory bow on his laces, looking up as Jackson manages to recover from his failed attempt at the Black Jack, and Meca catches Jackson as he comes in with a punch, twisting his arm over into an arm bar, then bringing an elbow down into the back of Jackson's head. Meca slips behind now, locking Jackson into a full nelson, then suplexes him overhead right out of it, flipping Jackson in the air and dropping him on his face. Meca grabs Jackson by the wrist, pulling him into position for the Strife Ender, when Jackson grabs Meca by the waistband, pulling his pants down around his knees. Meca's wearing white boxer shorts with little red hearts over them. The audience laughs and Meca lets go of Jackson and pulls his pants back up. Jackson's quick to scramble away and get to his feet, then lunge back at Meca with a flying lariett, knocking Meca back into the ropes and over the top to the floor below. Jackson jumps to the second rope, springboarding off of it and somersaulting over the top rope to come down on top of Meca with a somersault backsplash, both men crashing hard to the concrete. Jackson pulls himself up wearily, shaking off the sweat from his head and grabbing Meca by the mask to pull him to his feet. Meca jerks himself abruptly away, tossing Jackson over him with an arm drag which bounces Jackson off of the steel cell wall. Jackson staggers forward, a hand over the small of his back in pain, and Meca grabs Jackson by the hair, walking him a few steps along ringside and smashing him face first to the turnbuckle post. Jackson bounces off with a sickening thud and Meca grins, taking Jackson by the wrist and irish whipping him along ringside, Jackson crashing into the steel ring steps and knocking them loose from the ring. Meca charges at Jackson, leaping into the air with a spinning wheel kick. Jackson lifts the upper half of the ring steps between them, Meca crashing hard into the steps and twisting his knee at an awkward angle while driving the steps back out of Jackson's hands to smash him between the two unrelenting peices of steel, a deep gash opening over Jackson's left eye. Meca gets back to his feet, obviously favoring the one leg, and pulls Jackson back up by the hair, hooking him up and planting him into the cement with an impact ddt. Meca hoists up Jackson's body, rolling him into the ring, then climbs onto the apron himself and through the ropes. Jackson grabs ahold of the middle rope, pulling himself up to his knees, fighting through the pain, and Meca helps him up by the hair, hooking him up for the MecaPlex. Meca gets Jackson most of the way up when his knee gives out. Meca crumples under Jackson and Jackson capitalizes quickly, hooking a leg for a cover. 1... Meca snatches the bottom rope in one hand. Jackson gets back to his feet, wiping the blood out of his face and flicking it down onto the canvas at his feet, then drags Meca back up who barely seems capable of standing on his bad leg. Jackson sends Meca hard into the corner with an irish whip, Meca bouncing off the turnbuckles and flipping backwards over the top rope to settle down into a tree of woe. Jackson sees Meca tie up and follows in quickly, planting Meca in the midsection with a running doublefoot front drop kick. Meca crumples to the mat, Jackson dragging him back up and hooking him for a snap suplex. Meca twists in mid-air, bringing Jackson down instead with a neckbreaker. Both men lay prone on the mat for several seconds breathing heavy. Meca is the first to move, rolling over onto his hands and knees, while Jackson reaches out taking ahold of the bottom rope. Meca struggles to stand, his knee giving out once before he's finally able to regain his footing, while Jackson pulls himself hand over hand back to his feet with the assistance of the ropes. Meca hobbles to Jackson, locking up with him in a collar-arm tie-up and muscling Jackson back awkwardly against the ropes. Meca dazes Jackson with a headbutt to the face, then twists him around into a standing bow-and-arrow. Jackson drives an elbow back into Meca's kidneys. Then a second. Meca's grip slips as he winces in pain and Jackson falls back to his feet, spinning around and ducking a right hand from Meca to catch him low around the midsection and hoist him up, toppling backwards with a rear facebuster that brings Meca face first over the steel turnbuckle bolt. A flash of red splatters from Meca's face as he drops to his knees, blood drizzling out from under the open-mouth portion of his mask. Jackson gives Meca a shove, pushing him to the mat, then pulling himself up top again. Meca raises back to his feet once more, gritting through the pain and refusing to quit. Jackson goes for the Black Jack, but Meca rolls out of the way, and Jackson collapses on the mat! Meca turns around and jumps and hits a legdrop on Jackson for good measure. He looks out to the crowd, and they pop loudly.

Suddenly a figure approaches, rushing from the entryway...

Wilks: IT'S SETH ANDERSON!

Burst: What the hell is HE doing here? I thought he was out "with the fans".

Seth Anderson, looking worse for wear after having been at the mercy of the fans for the entire show, runs down to the cell, carrying a lock cutter. The crowd boos loudly and tosses more debris at Seth. Meca doesn't see him and positions Jackson for the Strife Ender! Seth Anderson reaches the door and cuts the lock, then kicks the door open right as Meca locks in the hold!

Wilks: Meca doesn't see Seth coming! He's too focused on the hold!

Burst: He doesn't smell the stale nacho cheese and beer on Seth's clothing?

With purpose, Seth rolls into the ring, and swings the lock cutters right at Meca's face! The blunt side connects with Meca's forehead, causing him to break the Strife Ender. Seth pulls Meca up by his mask to his feet, then baseball swings the lock cutters and hits him squarely in the abdomen, causing Meca to hunch over. Seth gives him an overhead swing of the lock cutters into the back, and Meca falls to all fours. Seth tosses the lock cutters down and picks Meca back to his feet, and walks him to the ropes. Seth whips Meca, then bounces off the ropes. Meca bounces back and Seth catches him and uses Meca's momentum to lift him up, and his own momentum to send Meca crashing down to the mat!

Wilks: HOLY CRAP! Seth just hit a HUGE Out of Nowhere on Meca!

The crowd starts chanting "You SUCK! You SUCK!". Seth rolls Meca onto his stomach and locks in All You Can Do Is Scream! Meca, practically unconscious, doesn't make any noise. As the crowd dies down, you can hear Seth screaming out...

Seth Anderson: YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG ALL STAR!

The crowd now begins to boo and chant "All Star SUCKS! All Star SUCKS!" The chant seems to enrage Seth and he cinches in his hold on Meca.

Wilks: It looks like Greg Jackson is starting to stir!

Burst: Good. Maybe he can get rid of this piece of trash!

Wilks: I don't know. Seth looks really pissed.

Burst: Seth? I was talking about Meca! ...and you.

Greg Jackson gets to one knee and takes in the situation. He eye the lock cutters, and realizes that Seth has his back turned to him. Jackson quickly and discreetly reaches for the lock cutters. The fans cheer, hoping to see Seth get laid out. Jackson swings and hits Seth right in the back! The crowd pops as Seth lets go of Meca and stumbles forward, stepping on Meca's back and almost tripping. Seth grabs onto the ropes and Jackson pumps up the crowd and holds up his weapon. The crowd cheers loudly and Jackson walks over to give Seth another shot. Jackson swings, but Seth ducks it and gives him a swift kick in the gut! The surprise causes Jackson to drop the lock cutters and Seth grabs his head and plants him with a DDT! The crowd boos at the turn of events and Seth yells out "FUCK YOU!" to the crowd. They start chanting "ALL STAR SUCKS!" again. Seth takes his frustration out on JAckson stomping away at him. Seth then picks Jackson up and whips him into the corner. Seth grabs the lock cutters and runs at the corner, then holds up the lock cutters and clotheslines Jackson with them! Jackson falls to his seat in the turnbuckle as Seth throws the lock cutters out of the ring, causing them to clang against the cell. Seth picks Jackson up and grabs him up for a suplex, but instead drops him back in a sitting position on the turnbuckle.

Wilks: What's Seth doing to Jackson?

Burst: Well, he can't throw him onto the Spanish Announcer's Table because of the cell...and...yeah, if that's not available I don't know what else to do.

Seth climbs the turnbuckle and puts his foot on the top rope. He helps Jackson up to a standing position facing the ring. Seth gives him a jab to the face, then turns him around to face away from the ring, and leaps off the top rope...OUT OF NOWHERE OFF THE TOP ROPE!!! Jackson's body bounces six inches off the mat and comes down again. Seth even looks a little drained from hitting the mat. Seth slowly gets up and stands over the two of them, screaming again...

Seth Anderson: YOU FUCKED WITH THE WRONG ALL STAR!

The crowd boos loudly and Seth looks out at the crowd, then spits on both Jackson and Meca.

Burst: Oh GOD! Not again! We're NEVER going to hear the end of it from Meca!

Seth climbs out of the ring and starts to walk backstage. Once out of the cell, the fans again start to throw trash and debris at Seth.

Wilks: I guess these people didn't get enough of that earlier!

Burst: Yeah, it sucks! I have this big-ass cup of beer, and I can't throw it at him because he's on the other side of the cell!

Wilks: Yeah, like you'd do that.

Burst: Of course I would! I'd just do it to his back, then say you did it. I don't think he'd give you much time to give your side of the story.

Seth ignores the crowd and their trash as he walks up the entryway. Once he's there, he turns around and faces the crowd, and starts chanting "ALL STAR! ALL STAR!" but the crowd drowns him out with boos. Seth heads backstage and the cameras go back to Meca and Greg, still on the ground from the attack. Greg flops his arm over Meca's chest. Meca's lifts his leg slowly and corsses it over Gregs leg.. The ref looks confused but makes the count.. 1...2...3! The fans cheer as they realise the match was a toss up. Suddenly Myles MacManus runs over to the referee and looks at him akwardly.

Myles MacManus - WHAT THE FUCK!? What do you think this is? ASW!? We don't have draws in OWF! Jesus.... Restart the match

The ref restarts the match and Meca slowly crawls to his feet. He grabs a steel chair that sits in the corner and smacks the still laying Greg Jackson with it. Meca throws the chair to the side and makes the cover...1....2... Seth Anderson rushes in and kicks Meca in the gut, knocking him off Greg Jackson and breaking the count.

Seth Anderson - Jesus Christ, do I have to make everything that fuckin obvious to you people? I WILL be the next OWF Network champion!

Seth grabs the chair and plants Meca with it, cracking him open across the forehead. He kicks Meca onto his back and places Greg Jackson over him.. 1...2...3!

Mr. P: Your winner and advancer.. Greg Jackson!

The cameras cut to backstage. The focus is on a sign, which is handwritten...poorly:

Contestants the
OWF Tag-team titul match
Meet by Soda Machin
OR YOUR FIRED! -DK

Burst: Holy shit! Did Jake Blood right that?

The cameras pan over to a group of wrestlers...Jasper Rage, Angel of Death, Jack Destiny, and Gavin Payne. They seem to be waiting, not totally sure of what is going to go on, but not wanting to make it too obvious that they don't know.

SANGRISSIMOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Suddenly, a voice is heard from above, and the cameras look up to see Tad O. Minor falling from the sky with a steel chair in his hand. The cameras watch him as he comes down to the ground...

SPLAT!!!

...and misses the huddle by about two feet. His body crashes into the concrete, bounces up a little, then lies motionless. All four wrestlers instinctively start to look around. Angel of Death walks over to tthe limp Minor...

Angel of Death: What the Hell? A Gas mask?

As if on cue, a canister enters the scene, tossed from who knows where. As soon as it hits the concrete, a purple haze starts seeping out of it. By the time the four realize what's happening, it's too late. The purple cloud uickly thickens and spreads, and all four wrestlers are caught coughing and wheezing and stumbling around as the gas penetrates their eyes and mouth.

Jack Destiny stumbles out of the cloud first...

SMACK!!!

...a chair hits him out of nowhere, and the cameras look over and see Kellan Hunter wearing a gas mask! He dishes out a steel chair to the head of Jasper Rage and AoD, sending them both to the ground.

The cameras look over and see Gavin Payne crawling on the ground near Tad O. Minor, who is still lifeless. Payne finds Minor and uses his hands to feel for his head and the mask thereon.

Burst: OH MY GOD! PAYNE'S COPPING A FEEL!

Wilks: He's doing exactly what you do would do in this situation: go for the other mask!

Burst: NO, he's doing what YOU would do...COP A FEEL!

Wilks: (sigh)

Payne finds the mask and pulls it off of Minor's head. He puts in on and seals it, then starts to breathe. His breaths are still little more than coughs, but he can finally stand on his feet. He turns around, right into Kellan Hunter.

Kellan Hunter: Here, hold this.

Kellan shoves the steel chair in Gavin's hands. Before Gavin can realize what's happening, Kellan rips Gavin's mask off! Gavin drops the steel chair on the ground and he grabs for his head as if to catch the mask. Kellan kicks him in the gut and grabs his head...BLACKOUT ON THE STEEL CHAIR! Kellan laughs as the haze starts to dissipate into the heavily conditioned air of the arena. It's still foggy, but the cameras still pick up Kellan Hunter standing and the five other wrestlers on the ground. Kellan Hunter speaks, but it sounds more like Darth Vader due to his mask.

Kellan Hunter: (breath) This Sunday is going to be the same result (breath) In the Tag Title match (breath) everyone else will be on the ground, and standing tall (breath) will be the NEW OWF Tag TEam Champions (breath) and the CURRENT OWF HANDICAPPED CHAMPIONS (breath) N.U.T.S.!!!!

Kellan picks Tad O. Minor off the ground and hoists him into a fireman's carry, then walks off camera as the scene cuts back to ringside.

Burst: (heavy breath) Tad (heavy breath) I AM YOUR FATHER!

Wilks: (looks up to the ceiling) God, PLEASE let Nick Burst be the next Handicapped Title challenger. PLEASE!

Burst: Oh, please, I could kick their asses no problem...because I..USE THE FORCE! (more Darth Vader-like breathing)

The Scene cuts to the back to show Prissy is in her locker room listening to some techno music as she keeps to the beat doing a few stretches. She looks up and sees her locker room door creak open and sees Williams taggering in, leaning heavily on the door. He limps his way in and she turns down the music and walks over to him. She smirks and sighs.

Prissy: Wow, Jesse you must feel like shit.. you look it too.

Williams smirks, then his facial expression gets serious

Williams: I bet you i feel worse than I look. So you getting ready for tonight?

Prissy: Yeah...you don't look like you could catch a chicken if you were starving though... So what's up? Why do I think you came here for more than a "good luck" speech?

Williams pulls the bandages off his neck and face, exposing bloody, not healed gashes from his match with Tann.

Williams: I can't wrestle like this Prissy, i can barely walk. My doctor said if I wrestle tonight, I could end my career...

One of the gashes on Jesse's neck opens up and bleeds slowly. Prissy looks around and grabs a towel. She makes a face as if she can feel what he looks like and blots the towel on his neck.

Prissy: So.. you need to cancel the match for now...?

Williams: Well see, about the match...

Williams takes the towel and pulls it away to see a pretty large spot of blood and he drops the towel.

Williams: I was wondering if you would take one for the team...

Prissy looks at him and squints her eyes.

Prissy: Meaning.....?

Williams sighs.

Williams: If you lay down for me tonight so I can get the rest going into the pay per view, i'll give you the first World Title shot when i win it...

Prissy looks at him and then turns around not facing him.

Prissy: You want me to throw the match? and you are serious? After all the preparation we...

Prissy turns back to face him.

Prissy: I mean I.. you couldn't prepare if you wanted to. look at you..

Prissy sighs and looks at the floor thinking and bites on her lip not wanting to answer her friend. Williams looks at Prissy, and smiles.

Williams: Listen, I know you've prepared for this match and it means a lot- but if I lose, I get no match at the PPV which is just another way for everybody to look down on Williams. Hell, I gave my all last week, and this week they'll boo me.

Williams calms down, then sighs.

Williams: Im just asking you, as a friend, if you would do this for me.

Prissy looks back at Jesse.

Prissy: You will remember this bargain if you win?

Williams nods, and she takes a deep breath.

Prissy: Take one for the team right?

Prissy smiles.

Prissy: Jesse, it's a deal.

Williams hugs Prissy, and grimices a bit.

Williams: Thank you Prissy, you're the best.

Williams leaves the locker room, as Prissy sighs and shakes her head and sits down on her stool, still getting ready for the match. Suddenly, the scene cuts back to a man standing in a white suit watching a tv in a room. All you see is the back of the person's head, the tv is showing Jessie Williams and Prissy who are in the dressing room chatting away. The camera starts to listen in on what is playing on the tv. "Prissy: You will remember this bargain when you win? Take one for the team, right? Jesse, it's a deal." The man watching the tv hits the tv knocking it off the stand. The camera man stands back as the man rushes out of his room. The camera tries to keep up with the man to get a peak of who he is, but all he can get is the back of him. A couple of people are pushed over as the man rushes past them. Now walking even faster the man is making his way to what seems to be Prissy's room. He enters, and slams the door behind him.

Man: What the hell is this? Did I just hear you agree to throw a match? I did not just come here to hear you say that you are going to throw a match for Jessie Williams. I could give two shits and a fuck about how this thing goes. But making deals like that is not a way to make your career go further. Its just a sorry ass way to show that you are weak hearted.

Prissy jumps at the slam of the door and the shouting man. She suddenly realizes who it is and seems both happy and a little ashamed... She looks around but says nothing..

Man: So come on! Explain to me why you would do something like this. Its just a bunch of bullshit. I can't believe you would do something so damn stupid, just to let someone else get a closer shot at the world title instead of you.

Prissy stutters trying to find words. Eventually speaking.

Prissy: I was just taking one for the team

Man: Taking one for the team is a load of shit. I can understand HELPING OUT the team, but not taking one for the team. BULLSHIT, ITS ALL BULLSHIT.

Prissy looks a little hurt to hear this scolding and angry.

Prissy: Look, you can't just come in here and try and tell me what to do!

She looks at the floor..She looks back up looking for answers.

Prissy: What would you have me do, get an easy win over someone who is in no shape for the match anyways?

Man: A win is a win, and a loss is a loss. But you can't just throw matches for people. I expect you to go out there and give it your all no matter what the cost.

Prissy throws up her arms.

Prissy: Oh so you want me to piss everyone off and make you happy? You want this to fall on me?

Man: How could this piss off everyone. So Jesse doesn't get the world title, boo fuckin hoo. Someone else could get their shot at it and takes it clean. Jesse is just in it for himself. He is a piece of trash and uses others to get where he wants to get. You think he gives a rats ass about "his friends"? Its all just show Priss.

Prissy thinks for a second.

Prissy: I.. well..

Man: Then just throw it all away. Fuck it who cares. Just let Jesse win what else can you do now? You already sealed the deal. Just remember what I said and think about what you are doing.

Prissy stands there dumbfounded as the man exit’s the room and slams the door behind him, and the camera switches back to the inside of the arena.

Mr. P: Now, for the main event. It is a semi-final for the Road to Glory Tournament, and it will be in a Hell in a Cell! Ah, who am I kidding? She's taking the "Dubz-Dive", take one for the team. Ladies and Gentlemen, your OWF PDA Champion, PRISSY!

"Dead Bodies Everywhere" by Korn starts up and Prissy steps out and is wearing jeans and heels. She struts to the ring and walks up the steps. She ducks under the top rope and walks to the center of the ring. She has a deep glare at the other side of the ring, and then looks up at the cell as her music dies down.

Mr. P: And her opponent, from Long Island, New York. He is the ASW World Champion, JESSE WILLIAMS!

"Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste" by Norma Jean starts up as the fans start to cheer from his performance against Bryan Tann on Sunday. Jesse walks out, with a bit of a limp, dragging the ASW Title behind him. He slowly gets to the ring and slides in, standing in the opposite corner of Prissy, with a smile on his face as his music dies down.

The bell rings as the fans immediately start to boo as Prissy walks to the center of the ring. She lays down on her back as Williams approaches. He lays on top of her, making the pin. The referee looks around, and then drops into place...1...2...PRISSY ROLLS THROUGH, SHE'S PINNING WILLIAMS...1...2...thre-KICKOUT! Williams just barely got out of that. Williams stands up and gets back to his corner and he is furious. Prissy steps back to her corner and she takes off her heels and throws them aside. Williams charges Prissy, but she ducks and grabs Jesse's leg, pulling him down. She wrenches on his bad leg as Williams screams in pain. He reaches back and grabs a fist full of Prissy's hair, but the referee removes his hand. Williams screams again as he reaches for the ropes, and eventually grabs the bottom one, forcing the referee to break the hold. Prissy stands up and back away as Williams pulls himself up, limping pretty badly. He goes after Prissy again, but she ducks again and she starts to kick away at Williams's midsection, eventually backing him back up into a corner with a few stiff kicks. Williams eventually grabs her and throws her into the corner and he goes to punch her, but she jumps to sit on the top rope and kicks Williams in the face, then grabs his head and nails a Tornado DDT. She quickly covers Williams, 1...2..kickout. Prissy slams the mat and she quickly jumps up and climbs to the top rope. She jumps off, and nails a splash on Williams's hurt ribs. He favors his ribs as Prissy covers again..1...2...kickout again by Williams. She stands up again, frustrated as Williams rolls to the middle of the ring holding his ribs in pain. Prissy climbs back to the top rope again, and she jumps off going for another splash but Williams jumps up as she jumps and he nails her with a dropkick to the face, sending her head slamming down to the mat. Williams holds his ribs as he pulls himself up on the ropes to support himself. He grabs Prissy and he slowly picks her up, but she low-blows him on the way up, doubling Williams over. She picks up Jesse and throws him face first into the corner, quickly jumping right behind him and somehow picking him up and sitting him on the top rope, facing the crowd. She climbs to the second rope and attempts a german suplex, but Williams isn't budging. She tries again, but fails once more. Then she stands up Williams on the top rope, and she stands on the top rope behind him. She tries again, and Williams backflips out of the german suplex as she throws him and connects with a HUGE dropkick to the back of Prissy's head, sending her to the mat like a ton of bricks as Williams braces himself for his fall, which hurts either way. The fans boo loudly as Williams stands up and looks to the crowd. He gets a devious look on his face and he grabs Prissy. He picks her up into a gorilla press slam, and throws her outside of the ring into the side of the steel cell, and she falls to the ground in a heap. The fans boo louder as Williams climbs out of the ring behind her. He picks her up and starts to drag her towards the door by the entrance ramp. He opens it and he throws her outside. Prissy starts to stir a bit and sees Williams's head turned and she starts to climb up the cell. She slowly starts to pull herself up the side of the cell. Williams eventually notices and smiles and waits for Prissy to get a little higher before he starts to climb up. Prissy gets to the top of the cell and gets away from the edge and Williams. She stands up and starts to run, but she trips on the steel piping on the top of the cell, sending her to the top of the cell. The fans are cheering now for Prissy, there is no telling what Williams will do on top of a cell. Williams gets to the top of the cell and he starts to pursue Prissy. Prissy struggles to get to the edge of the cell and she starts to climb down, but out of nowhere Williams grabs her by the hair and pulls her up. He stands her up and he kicks her in the stomach and then nails All The King's Men, Impact DDT ontop of the steel cell. The fans boo loudly and throw garbage at the cell. Williams looks down off the cell and he slowly starts to climb down, now feeling no pain at all. When he gets about halfway down, he jumps off and he focuses on Mr. P. Williams walks towards him, and gets within range of the microphone.

Williams: Hey man, can I get that microphone?

Mr. P: What in the holy hell has gotten into you? Jesse-

Williams: Are you going to give me the microphone, or am I going to embarass you on your own show like Dominator Fan did?

Mr P: You've already embarassed us all alot more than you realize.

Jesse Williams: Save the lecture, Zack. I'm not your fucking kid.

Perry slaps the microphone down on his table, turning his back on Williams in disgust. Williams brushes him off, pushing Perry out of his way with his shoulder as he picks up the microphone and puts it in his back pocket, then begins climbing up the side of the cell once more. He pulls out the microphone as he stands over Prissy who is sitting there looking up at someone she thought she knew.

Williams: It didn't have to be like this.

Prissy realizes her back is to the edge of the cell.

Williams: It could have been different, I don't want to do this anymore! Why'd you make me go this far?

Williams shows sympathy as he gives Prissy a long look. She stands to face him, a little unsure of what to do. Williams reaches out his hand, she takes it suspiciously and he pulls her in for an embrace. He and Prissy hug, and the fans cheer. Just then, we see Amaru, The fans are on there feet. This is who was making an OWF debut! Amaru runs stops on the entrance ramp as he sees Williams and Prissy on the top of the cell. Williams steps back and looks at Amaru.

Williams: Oh hey Amaru! You're just in time! All the problems we had are fixed!

Williams smiles deviously and he steps forward, THEN HE NAILS PRISSY WITH THE GLASSJAW, STANDING SIDE KICK, OFF THE HELL IN A CELL THROUGH THE ANNOUNCERS TABLE BELOW! Perry quickly hovers over Prissy, dropping any shread of his image as a booker and looking every bit the paramedic he's been for the past three years.

Williams: oops...not anymore, come get some!

Williams drops the microphone as Amaru runs to the ring. He climbs up the cell quickly and when he gets to the top he jumps at Jesse and takes him down. He starts to nail him with punch, after punch to the face. He keeps pummeling Williams, who eventually starts to bleed. Amaru doesn't back off and he picks up Williams, but Williams reverses him and starts to pummel Amaru back. Williams nails Amaru with rights and lefts, but Amaru fights up and he grabs Williams. He goes for a sidewalk slam and he nails it, as the CAGE PANEL BREAKS OFF AND BOTH MEN COME CRASHING DOWN TO THE RING. The microphone hits the ring also, sending a loud crash throughout the arena. Security and EMT's rush to the ring to take Amaru out of the ring, because he isn't in the match. Amaru battles back at security but is forced to leave and watch from backstage. Williams lays in the middle of the ring, holding his ribs, and coughing up blood. By this time, Prissy is stirring and she is picking herself up. She makes her way to the door nearest the announcers table, and she opens it and walks through. She slides into the ring and she crawls over to Williams as the fans are going bezerk, they count with the referee...1...2...thre-NO! Kickout by Williams. He barely got his shoulder up. Prissy falls back in exhaustion as Williams continues to spit out blood and bleed from his face. Prissy then jumps up in pure adrenaline and picks up Jesse, who is very slow to stand. She gets him up and she goes for her finisher, Lift, a head scissors take down, but Williams grabs her legs and catches her, not letting her roll through the move. He picks her up into a set up for a powerbomb, and he NAILS a HUGE powerbomb on Prissy in the middle of the ring. Williams falls back, in shock, but crawling towards the corner. The fans boo loudly as Williams climbs up the ringpost, rope, by rope as the pain gets worse and worse. He gets to the top and he stands up fully, looking down at Prissy. He calls for Death from Above, and he jumps off NAILING THE SWANTON BOMB on Prissy in the middle of the ring. The fans boo very loudly as Williams slowly crawls back to Prissy holding his ribs and bleeding badly, and he covers her...1...2...3! Mr. P grabs a microphone off the time keepers table.

Mr. P: You won, Jesse. Is this what you wanted? Does this make you happy? Somebody get some help down here.

Williams barely stirs in the ring as EMT's check on Prissy. She is out They take her out of the ring as the fans cheer her as she makes her way to the back on a stretcher. Williams is in the middle of the ring on his back as the cell slowly gets pulled up to the rafters and the ring crew pulls the broken panel out of the ring. Williams slowly stands up with help from the ropes, and he reaches down to grab the microphone. He winces in pain as he brings it to his mouth

Williams: I have something to say...

PA System - I push my fingers into my... eyyyyyyyesssssss....

The faint trailing of "Duality" by slipknot plays over the PA system as the OWF-TRON flashes.

Duality: Hey asshole!

Duality is seen on the OWF-Tron, standing in an undisclosed location. The fans cheer loudly, as he looks furious.

Duality: Who the HELL do you think you are? You think you can just beat the hell out of anybody you want to? Try it on me. If i was there in that arena right now, your ass would be served to you RIGHT NOW!

The fans all cheer.

Duality: Now you're going on to the finals for the World Title, well good luck. I hope you feel like a Champ after what you did to Prissy tonight. And from now on, on every dark corner you turn and in every parking lot you park your car in- you better be looking over your shoulder.

The fans cheer very loudly as Duality drops off the screen. Williams looks around the arena as the blood continues to drip down his face. He rips off his t-shirt and wipes the blood off, and throws it over the ropes. He puts the microphone to his mouth again.

Williams: Okay, that's it. No more interuptions. I'm sick of this shit...

Williams spits out a wad of blood.

Williams: All you want the truth what happened here tonight, right? Well here it is, plain and simple. I have more broken bones in my body than all of you combined have teeth, right now. I asked Prissy, as a FRIEND, if she would do a FRIEND a favor to lay down for me tonight, so I could rest for the pay per view. WE HAD A DEAL.

The fans all boo.

Williams: Fuck off, all of you. She turned on me tonight. She was doing the trickery. If she had said to me, "Hey jesse, I want to actually wrestle you", I would have agreed, because i'm a competitor- I wrestle no matter what, but there are circumstances. She has the nerve to ROLL THROUGH a pin on me and try to play a joke on me and the whole world. Thinking she could get fifteen minutes of fame by getting to the World Title match. Well here's your fifteen minutes of fame Prissy, you're a fucking saint to these fans out here, so get well REAL fucking soon. I fucking pour my heart and soul into wrestling, because its my life. Last week, I gave the match of my life to you people and now you turn on me, because I HIT A WOMAN?! FUCK that. You can say this is the day that will be monumental in the history of the OWF. First, you bastards turn on me. Then Prissy turns on me, now Du. Well you KNOW WHAT? FUCK the fans. FUCK Prissy. FUCK Duality. and FUCK my stablemates. All of those assholes don't give a shit about me, all they care about is how I'm screwing them over. ITS CALLED FRIENDSHIP! ASK ME TO TAKE A FUCKING FALL AND I WOULD, FOR A FRIENDSHIP! I come out here every damn night and I wrestle until I can't anymore. I give it my all, and you boo me. Well thats fine, because you are all dead to me now anyways. Opinions only matter when the person who it comes from actually means something in the world, and none of you do. And now, whether you dickwads like it or not, you will be seeing me win the Outsider Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship this Sunday.

The fans boo very loudly and start to throw garbage into the ring.

Williams: I did what I had to do to beat her because she decided to have a real match, and she got one. Anybody who decides to cross me like Prissy did, will suffer the same fate, because from now on, JESSE FUCKING WILLIAMS only cares about, trusts and respects one person and ONE person only- JESSE WILLIAMS.

His music hits and Williams drops the microphone and he walks towards his corner. He grabs his ASW World Title and slings it over his back as he makes his way, limping out of the ring and towards the aisle. The fans boo loudly and pelt him with garbage as he makes his way to the entrance ramp. He stands there and he drops the ASW World Title, and he turns to face the fans and he holds up his arms, to a chorus of boos. He smirks and reaches down and grabs his belt, then exits.