Alice In Chains’ “Stone” plays and Cyral Kanas walks out in his leather jacket, black jeans and cowboy boots, Zenon Nikolla on his arm. He scowls at the high-rolling crowd in their finery as he walks around the ring. He sees somebody take out a cigar from his jacket and Cyral snatches it from the dude, motioning to him to pull his lighter out, and when he does, Cyral bites off the tip of the cigar with his mouth and lights it. Zenon bends over seductively, wolf whistles ensuing as she steps into the ring. Cyral slides in after her her, under the bottom rope, and asks for a microphone.

“You fuckers ready to be entertained?”

There is a smattering of applause, as Cyral Kanas paces the ring. He slides out of the ring and sees a large mafia don sitting at a table, his gold rings sparkling in the sun. Kanas scoffs at him.

“Hey fat-ass, how much you think those rings are worth?”

Three other men get up from the table and glare at Cyral. He smiles and motions them to sit down.

“Better tell your boys to put their asses back in their seats, because the only thing stopping me from snapping their necks is this barricade. Enjoy your night.”

“Now tonight, I might be fighting in the B division, the Outlaw division, but let me make something clear to you all. When they offered me a shot at competing on their first show, I told them to put me anywhere on the card and I will make an impact. The Outlaw championship ain’t nothing but a trinket–still worth more than your rings, fatass–but a trinket nonetheless. No, I’m here to fight the big fuckers, the Union guys, the guys and gals who hit harder, work harder, and bleed more to all get to the top…”

“This Means War” by Nickelback plays as Jessica Jones walks on in, sticking her hands out to keep distance between herself and the crowd. She steps in the ring with a microphone of her own. Jessica walks right up to Zenon and Cyral steps between them.

“You might want to be careful of your words, Cyral, we DID come into Fight Union together. You remember that, right? I would take over the Outlaw division, and you, the Union division. That was the plan, and still is.”

Cyral nods and smirks.

“And here I thought you were going to come out and slap me or something.”

“The thought crossed my mind, but I prefer to stick to our mission. WE are the main event players in this company. A solid front is better for us, I feel. Just try to keep up–you could have done better.”

Jessica winks at him before stepping through the ropes and leaving. Zenon is getting visibly angry with these remarks, Cy trying to calm her down before they leave as well.

 

Previously…

With all four competitors in the ring, the Battle Royal started out violently as Slamsly McBody tried to create a partnership with Bratton, which worked out long enough to ground both Kanas and Jones, but ended promptly when Bratton helped McBody hit some high notes with a pretty wicked low-blow.

Kanas and Jones became a united front and beat down Bratton, and while they couldn’t quite eliminate her, thanks to her ability to cling to the ropes like a monkey, they were able to team up on Slamsly McBody and managed to eliminate him. Kanas and Jones turned their attention back to Bratton, but it wouldn’t be the last time they would see McBody, as he re-entered the ring, braining both Kanas and Jones with a steel chair before finally being escorted from the ring.

Bratton found herself in the ring alone with Jones and Kanas, but was lucky in that both competitors were down. Bratton attempted to eliminate Jones, but Kanas came in with the save. In the ensuing melee, Jones was knocked off of the ring apron before re-entering the ring and found herself eliminated.

Jones didn’t leave ringside without a fight however. She attempted to eliminate Bratton from the outside, but was unsuccessful, and yet, still managed to leave with a fist full of Bratton’s hair.

It came down to Bratton and Kanas and the two fought back and forth like the gladiators everyone in the crowd expected. It was what might go down as the fight of the night; Kanas and Bratton put on one hell of a show.

Credit needs to be given to all four entrants to the Outlaw Battle Royal, but a special nod needs to be given to Bratton and Kanas, who fought their hearts out. Finally, with the help of yet another low-blow from ‘The Prankster’, Kanas was eliminated, leaving Lara Bratton the soul survivor of the match.

Winner: Lara Bratton

 

For the first time, the scene shifts to Nico Sutton and Brick Ramrock. They’re sitting at a desk, both dressed in their own sexy ways. Nico looks sharp and Brick would look nearly as sharp, if he only knew how to tie his tie.

Nico nods, “Quite a way to open up this inaugural episode of Violent Behavior! The ‘Royal definitely could have gone any direction, but we’ll be welcoming ‘The Prankster’ to the final match for the Outlaw Championship!”

“Jessica Jones is hot,” Brick adds.

Nico shakes his head, as he’s already exhausted from being beside Brick. “I’m sure Jessica Jones and Cyral Kanas will have some revenge down the road. I don’t think Kanas is going to let Bratton get away with that low-blow.”

Brick’s thousand-yard-stare is followed by, “I mean, you remember that scene from Fast Times? When Phoebe comes out of the pool in that red swimsuit and she’s all wet and…”

Nico interrupts, “Is this going to serve a purpose, other than sexism?”

Brick continues, “Imagine Jessica Jones in that same swim suit. Oh Em Gee. Seriously. Amazing. All eyes on Jessica Jones!”

Nico lets out a sigh. “We’re also left with the question of whether or not we’re going to see Slamsly McBody again. He put in one hell of an outing. I, for one, hope he doesn’t let this match be his last here at Fight Union. Now we’re going to send you elsewhere– I believe we’re about to hear from Mikhail Reinhardt.”

“It’s Gorbachev. Duh,” Brick quips.

 

Previously…

As the show was continuing on and the crowd was gearing up for the second Outlaw Title Qualifier, the sounds of a man laughing sadistically came over the loudspeakers, followed by the sounds of a German saying.

“Du bist dran zu sterben!”

<‘Your turn to die!’>

As a shotgun sound goes off, followed up by a man singing about becoming Judas as Fozzy’s “Judas” comes across the PA, the fans were wondering what was going on, looking wildly around. Suddenly they saw a hint of who it was, as one third of the EIW Trios Champions, the “Killa Reinhardt” from New Zealand, Megan Reinhardt, came out first. Close behind was the woman from Toronto, Ontario, now residing in Los Angeles and playing for the LA Stars, “The Dead Evil Queen”. It was Tricia Reinhardt, the second-third of the champs, who made her way out to a huge ovation as the crowd chanted “B.W.A.H.”, her nickname, meaning ‘Bitch Without A Heart’. Behind her, followed her mother from Johannesburg, known as the “Wicked Queen”, now retired from the ring, but still manager of The Devil: his ex-wife Jacelyn Reinhardt. As the crowd progresses to a happier state, through a curtain-like entrance, they saw the German flag waving with a spike skull-looking devil on it. They knew who it was. He was the final third of EIW’s Trios Champions that were crowned in a one night tournament last Saturday at Collision Course.

As “The Devil” Mikhail Reinhardt came, fans chanted “Die, Die, Die, Die, Die!” They may hate the man but they loved his violence. The dark family made their way to the ring, streamers flying triumphantly. One Reinhardt sat atop the corner turnbuckle in each corner. It was a true celebration, the Judas playing over and over, as Tricia came down and stood in the middle of the ring, having threatened staff for a microphone. Megan was sitting on a turnbuckle, waiting with Jacelyn. As Mik came up behind his daughter headbanging with the beat and the “Die!” chants, Tricia put her hand up, cutting off the music with a scream.

“Shut the fuck up! This is where you all are quiet as fuck, and we talk, you fuck heads!”

The crowd stilled and got into her. They went from cheering loudly, to half-cheering and half-boos.

As they gradually stilled, Tricia sternly commanded the audience, “Now, as we were about to say, in a matter of moments, you will all see the second Outlaw Qualifier. We, the family who hates together, we will stay here at ringside and we will be as violent and angry as we want. Because it’s a triple threat, we really can do what the fuck we ever want! I mean think about it– Fight Union might’ve signed only Fa originally, but they ended up with all of us to deal with. We’re a pack! A coven! A goddamned team–we are devils! Don’t ever think we aren’t!”

Tricia then walked up to the closest camera she could, starting to brag again.

“I mean, think about it. I ran a bitch out of a company because I almost killed her, not giving her the time of day. So, FM… Suck my dick, cunt! Now, with the next match coming up, Fa, got anything to say?

Mikhail took the microphone as the crowd raised their voices with booing, but it looked like Mikhail was inspired by some overseas wrestler, his eyes mysteriously lighting up as he began to speak.

“Egal was heute Abend passiert, ich, Mikhail Reinhardt, werde Outlaw Champion sein. Und egal ob Bronson oder Dahl denken, dass sie mich schlagen können. 4 auf 2 Hündinnen. Und als die umwerfende Mutter verdammt Teufel sage ich, BRONSON, DAHL, GEBEN SIE GERADE AUF. Und Bronson, Dahl, komm hier vorbei!”

<No matter what happens tonight, I, Mikhail Reinhardt, will be Outlaw Champion. No matter what–even if Bronson or Dahl think they can beat me. 4 on 2 bitches. And as the presently dealing motherfucking Devil, I say, BRONSON, DAHL, JUST GIVE UP. Bronson, Dahl– COME ON OVER HERE!>

 

The bell is ignored as Bronson pushes the referee out of the way and charges right over to Dahl, flattening him with his patented ‘Meat Cleaver’ knockout forearm. Not only does the forearm put Dahl’s lights out, but it also busts him open. Reinhardt stands back, watching the exchange with a deranged smirk on his face. Bronson grabs Dahl by the throat and starts choking him as the ref tries to call for Bronson to knock it off. Bronson’s either deaf, or he doesn’t care– likely the latter–and he doesn’t obey the ref’s commands.

The crowd is going ape-shit, did we mention that?

Reinhardt comes up from behind, but somehow Bronson knows he’s there, so he captures Dahl and rips him over his head with an exploder suplex, straight into Reinhardt. Reinhardt collapses under the weight of Dahl, as Bronson screams out a roar reminiscent of a lion fused with a bear, fused with something out of a horror movie. Bronson leaves the ring and doesn’t even have to look for a weapon, as he’s immediately handed a barb-wire wrapped bat. He checks the weight of the bat and takes a few practice swings before heading back towards the ring.

Meanwhile, Reinhardt has Dahl in a rear naked choke and the ref is checking the hold. Dahl is nearly blue-lipping it as Bronson rolls back into the ring. Bronson swings twice. One swing rips a gash in Dahl’s hairline and the second sinks barbed wire right into Reinhardt’s elbow. Reinhardt has no choice but to release the hold as Bronson swings once more, just narrowly missing Reinhardt as he dodges.

Dahl rolls over in a heap as blood begins to pool. Reinhardt comes up to meet Bronson. Bronson takes another swing with the bat, but this time, Reinhardt catches the barbed wire and despite the fact that that barbs are sinking into his palms, Reinhardt just laughs maniacally. Bronson laughs back at him, and the two just mysteriously share a laugh for a moment. It ends rather abruptly when the bat is thrown to the wayside and the two start pounding on each other, roaring like angry bears.

Dahl, meanwhile, looks like he might be dead.

The crowd is really, really, into it.

There’s blood, sweat, and a lot of cussing coming from the general vicinity of the brawl between Reinhardt and Bronson. Dahl twitches a little bit, but he’s not making a move. With the help of an eye-gouge, Reinhardt is able to take control of Bronson and lands his ‘Concussion’ roundhouse kick to Bronson, putting Bronson down to one knee, leaning against the ropes. Reinhardt escapes the ring! While looking for a weapon, he’s handed a large glass bottle, formerly once-full of aged whiskey, and he heads back into the ring. Surprisingly, Dahl is back to his feet, but he is wearing a shining bloody mask. Bronson is back up too. Reinhardt jumps abruptly into the fray, taking a wild swing at Bronson with the glass bottle–but Bronson ducks! Instead, the bottle crashes right into Dahl’s skull–sending him to the ropes, and over and out of the ring!

Bronson tackles Reinhardt to the mat and the broken bottle goes flying. The two swing wildly. The savage fisticuffs doesn’t end until Reinhardt reaches out for the broken bottle and wields it like a knife, trying to slash Bronson’s throat. Bronson catches Reinhardt’s wrist and forces the bottle back towards Reinhardt’s face. The broken edge of the bottle is only an inch away from Reinhardt’s exposed eyeball before Reinhardt powers back, pushing the bottle away.

“I’ll skull-fuck you with this fucking bottle, you tattooed fuck!” Bronson roars!

Reinhardt laughs, “Flachwichser!”

<A great word meaning “fuck-wit”. >

Finally, the bottle goes sideways as the two men slam their foreheads against each other’s, crushing the bottle between them. Bronson falls off of Reinhardt and the two are immediately back to their feet–now both are pumping blood everywhere.

Outside the ring, Dahl looks like he’s dead.

Bronson grabs Reinhardt and throws him out of the ring. Reinhardt hits the mat hard, but seems to like it. He comes right back up, as Bronson exits the ring right into a flying knee from Reinhardt. Bronson collapses against the ring apron as Reinhardt looks for another weapon. Reinhardt comes up with a cheesegrater and while it seems unremarkable, he shrugs and wields it as a weapon, stalking Bronson. Reinhardt falls upon Bronson and grinds the cheesegrater across Bronson’s forehead, not surprisingly, making grated cheese out of his skin. Bronson takes the pain with a steely grimace, and finally drives a low blow into Reinhardt’s junk, triumphantly standing up as Reinhardt crumbles to the mat.

Oh and yes, Dahl still looks dead.

As Bronson heads towards Dahl’s corpse, he snatches a drink out of one of the crowd-member’s hands and knocks it back. He takes the stemware glass and crushes it against Dahl’s head before he pulls him up and slings him back into the ring. Bronson follows him, grabbing that baseball bat as he enters. He takes two solid whacks at Dahl’s back slicing it open. Bronson is also making that spine specialist in the second row very happy over the prospect of the bill resulting from the upcoming surgery.

Reinhardt pulls himself up onto the ring apron and takes a swat to the head from the bat, for his trouble. Reinhardt flies off the ring apron and slams into the guard rail.

Bronson turns his attention back to Dahl.

“Now it’s time for this little pipsqueak to fucking die!” Bronson exclaims, pleasing the crowd.

He sets the bat on the ground very specifically before pulling Dahl to his feet. Bronson lets out another roar before planting Dahl skull-first into the barbed wire portion of the bat with the ‘Skull Fucker’ sit out piledriver!

Bronson doesn’t even bother hooking the leg as he goes for the pin.

“One! Two!”

Reinhardt comes from out of nowhere to break the pin, but he’s too late!

“Three!”

‘Dot your Eyes’ by Five Finger Death Punch hits as Bronson rises to his feet. Reinhardt follows him up and despite the match decision, the two continue beating each other up!

Winner via Pinfall: ‘Cactus Jack’ Bronson

 

Back at the announce table, Nico has a look of amazement on his face as Brick is onto his third sandwich of the evening.

“I honestly thought we were going to see someone get killed in there. Both Reinhardt and Bronson are ‘unstable’ at best and I’m pretty sure, had that match gone on any further, that we would be driving Dahl’s body out into the desert to rest in a shallow grave.”

“Ha! Like Casino!” Brick says, between bites.

“Yes. Like Casino, Brick.” Nico shakes his head, hating his new ‘position’, “It’s got to be frustrating for Reinhardt, but unfortunately, in a triple threat situation, you don’t have to be pinned to lose. Although, I have this sneaking suspicion that we haven’t seen the last of Bronson and Reinhardt trying to kill each other.”

“There weren’t any chicks in that match, so it didn’t really do much for me. I thought it was cool when the cheese grater got involved, but that just made me hungry for nachos and they don’t have any at craft services. So now, not only do I not have nachos, but I’m sad too.”

“The world cries for you Brick, now we’re going to catch up with Union Division hopeful, Alyssa Daniels.”

Brick starts to choke on his sandwich, but Nico just drives a hard slap into Brick’s back as he maintains his toothy white smile.

 

The fountain stands majestically in a path not far from the mansion. Water squirts down into the pool below, color-changing lights shining through it to create a beautiful effect. Fight Union competitor Alyssa Daniels steps up to the fountain and admires the design for a moment.

“This place is gorgeous,” she says as her eyes reflect the colored light.

She reaches into a pocket and withdraws a penny. She looks down at it, smiles, then looks up to the fountain. With a flick of her thumb, the penny spins into the air and down into the water with a small ‘sploosh.’

“Hey, you fragile fucking bitch,” a slurred voice calls out from behind Alyssa.

Startled, she whips around to face the source of the noise.

“Excuse me?” she asks in offense.

The man approaches wearing a crisp suit and smelling strongly of booze. He staggers toward her, his hand up and finger out. His intoxication cleared his inhibitions and turned him into an obvious angry drunk.

“You heard me, woman!”

Alyssa, her face twisted in disgust, just stares at the man unsure of how to react. He continues his approach unabated.

“Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes over here,” he slurred. “What the fuck is the point of you being here?”

“I don’t know, to wrestle?” she responds with uncertainty of where he’s going with this.

“Wrestle? Fuck that. Nobody here cares about wrestling. We just wanna see you animals get bloodied, maybe throw somebody off some shit.”

He steps onto the cobblestone design surrounding the fountain.

“You don’t belong here, wrestler,” he mocks. “Why don’t you drag your happy ass to a corner and make some real money?”

He’s getting dangerously close to Alyssa now. As he does, Alyssa’s stance changes very subtly. Something in the shoulders maybe? Though she still appears as relaxed as ever, you can tell she’s ready to strike if Mr. Jagermeister gets too confident.

But he doesn’t get that opportunity.

As he approaches her, malice in his bloodshot eyes, a hand shoots out palm-first and impacts him in the chest. For a sober person, it would knock them back a few steps and get their attention. This guy though? He was nowhere near sober. He stumbles and trips over his own feet, falling dramatically to the ground.

“Hey! What the fuck–”

“Cool the jets, Johnny Too Drunk,” a deep male voice warns.

Alyssa looks around to see her father, Keith Daniels, standing by her side. He watches the drunk closely as he attempts to get back to his feet.

“You wanna throw down, motherfucker?” the drunk asks, still not upright enough to see the source of the blow.

But he does manage to pull himself back up and see the man who delivered it. All six-foot-ten, three-hundred and forty-six pounds of him. The inhibition of alcohol ain’t eatin’ through that. Due to his drunken state, the thoughts that run through his mind can be easily determined by his changing facial expressions. Surprise. Fear. Anger. Doubt. Embarrassment. Anger again. Fear. Uncertainty.

“Do you know who I am?” he finally settles on saying.

“Some punk bitch who’s gonna wake up in the hospital tomorrow with much more than a hangover?”

“You can’t talk to me that way!” he shouts in fearful defiance.

He staggers backward as he flinches away from the man in front of him. Keith Daniels doesn’t move. He glares at the man with the posture of a predator preparing to deliver the killing blow to his prey.

“I’ll see you pay for this!” the man shouts as he continues to back away, unwilling to pursue this particular confrontation further. Once he’s a sufficient distance away to be certain he won’t be coming back, Alyssa turns to face her father fully.

“What are you doing here?”

“What?” he asks with a smile. “Think I was gonna miss my little girl’s first flagship title shot?”

Alyssa narrows her eyes.

“I’m not really your little girl anymore.”

Keith chuckles.

“Of course not. You’ve taken to this sport exceptionally well. It’s almost like it’s in your blood or something.”

“No,” Alyssa states firmly. “I’ve studied this sport for years, done everything I can to keep my body in peak physical condition. If my blood has anything to do with this, it’s the low LCL, the high HCL, and minimizing triglycerides.”

Her father looks at her blankly. It seems clear he didn’t expect that kind of bite back.

“Dear, I–”

“I know,” Alyssa interjects. “I know you’re just trying to be supportive, but it’s important to make this distinction. This is my career. This isn’t a continuation of your legacy. When I got my last name legally changed back to Daniels, it wasn’t because I wanted to be ‘one of the family.’ It was personal inspiration, a reminder of the responsibility I have to myself and to my own legacy, whatever it may be. It was a reminder of what Mom sacrificed for me to still be here and what I ran from when I saw her…”

Alyssa trails off as she chokes up slightly. Respectfully, Keith doesn’t speak. He waits patiently for her to continue.

“There’s a separation between Keith and Seth Daniels…”

Beat.

“And Alyssa Daniels. I’m not like either of you. You liked punishing opponents into mental, emotional, then physical submission. Seth loves violence, loves causing it, feeling it, and watching it. I’m here to compete. I want to face the toughest adversity I can find, then overcome it. Maybe it’s skillful. Maybe it’s violent. But the most important thing is that I keep fighting and always find a way to overcome even the most difficult of obstacles.”

She pauses. Keith patiently allows her the moment.

“Your book is closed. This is my story now.”

Keith nods in understanding. Pride and sadness shine out from the small smile on his face as he looks into his daughter’s eyes.

“I get it,” he says as he nods. “I’ll try to stop treating you like you’re my little creation and give you the respect and autonomy you deserve. Regardless, I’m proud of you.”

Alyssa smiles.

“Thank you, dad,” she says before turning away. “But now, I’ve got to get ready for my match. Hopefully just my first match.”

“Indeed. I’ll be watching.”

 

Almost in an instant, Hamilton and Khalid join forces to go after the much larger Omertà. They both push him into a corner and go at him with kicks and strikes. The much larger man seems to be in trouble until he finally works up the strength to push both Khalid and Hamilton back. Khalid takes a big Omertà sized boot to the face and Hamilton gets a reverse chokeslam out of the deal.

As if he were Goliath, Omertà is standing tall over his downed opponents, much to the pleasure of the crowd. Omertà pulls his opponents so that they’re side by side and proceeds to drop a huge leg drop across both of their throats.

Now Omertà is in control.

He calls to the crowd for a weapon and someone tosses him a steel chair. He’s happy with the selection as he turns back to face his downed opponents. He holds the steel chair high over his head, but when he brings it down, Hamilton rolls out of the way and Khalid gets his boots up, sending the chair right back into Omertà’s face. Hamilton puts a stiff shoulder into Omertà’s midsection and drives him into the turnbuckle. Khalid pulls up the chair and rushes in, smashing the chair into Omertà’s face. Omertà finally slumps to a seated position in the corner.

Khalid and Hamilton are now face to face.

Khalid is talking strategy with his ‘team mate’ and she’s nodding, but only a second passes before Hamilton drives a boot into Khalid’s midsection. She then drives him down to the mat with her ‘Wrath of the Titans’ double arm hook facebuster! Hamilton goes for the pin attempt, but that’s when Omertà re-enters the fray, pulling Hamilton off of Khalid by her hair. Omertà takes Hamilton by the throat again, but Hamilton digs into her waistband and produces a pair of brass knuckles. She drives a right hand into Omertà’s face and knocks him for a loop. He lets go of her throat and staggers a moment, before she punches him again with the brass knuckles, busting his lip open. She literally has Omertà on the ropes when she follows up her assault with a number of punches to Omertà’s mid section.

Hamilton pulls back her fist again, looking for the knockout blow, but this time her fist is caught by Khalid. They make eye contact for a moment and all Khalid can do is shake his head.

“No, Sister. Just. No,” he says, before grappling Hamilton’s arm and driving her own brass knuckled fist into her own face.

Khalid follows that up with a gut wrench suplex-sending Hamilton across the ring. Now Khalid is face to face with Omertà. Khalid doesn’t back down in the face of the much larger man. Omertà and Khalid trade lefts and rights in the middle of the ring as Hamilton rises to her feet. She looks pretty pissed off, having been hit in the face with her own fist. She charges across the ring and floors both Omertà and Khalid with a flying cross body.

All three land hard on the mat, but Hamilton is the first back to her feet. Omertà rises up, but Hamilton clobbers him with the brass knuckles, putting him back down. She then pulls Khalid to his feet and whips him into the corner. She follows him in, but he moves at the last moment, sending her crashing into the turnbuckles. Khalid acts quickly and sets her up on the top turnbuckle and climbs up–looking for a superplex. Khalid checks behind him, seeing that Omertà is still down and hoists Hamilton up and superplexes her off the top turnbuckle, right on top of Omertà!

The crowd goes nuts. Hamilton rolls out of the ring and onto the floor below.

Omertà looks like he’s out of it.

Khalid crawls over for the pin attempt!

“One! Two!”

Omertà kicks out at two! Khalid gets back up as Omertà rises. Khalid rushes to the far ropes and comes back with a running knee right into Omertà’s mush! Omertà hits the mat hard and Khalid finds himself right next to the chair. Khalid pulls up the chair and heads over to Omertà. Khalid is about to drive the chair down into Omertà’s face when Omertà kicks a boot up, driving the chair right into Khalid’s face–getting a bit of payback from earlier in the match.

Khalid staggers backwards and is caught from behind by Hamilton with a big time bulldog which just so happens to drive Khalid face first into the steel chair.

The crowd roars with applause and drunken optimism.

That chair is getting a lot of play, isn’t it?

Omertà is back up and he catches Hamilton as she rises and smashes his forearm right into her face! The momentum spins her around and allows him to set her up in an electric chair! Right before he drops, he slings her up into the air and slams her down with a double-knee backbreaker, completing his vicious ‘Code of Silence’ maneuver. Omertà goes for the pin!

“One! Two!”

Khalid leaps in and breaks up the pin attempt!

Omertà comes up really annoyed with Khalid. He manhandles Khalid and whips him into the ropes. Only Khalid is ready–as he rushes back, he hits the ‘Chapal Kebab’ bicycle kick which floors Omertà!

Khalid lands on Omertà and goes for the pin! Hamilton is still stirring, but isn’t able to break the pin!

“One! Two! Three!”

‘Hasta Luego’ by Zouhair Bahaoui hits as Khalid stands up and puts both arms up in the air, celebrating his victory. Hamilton rolls out of the ring and gives him a dirty look as he continues to celebrate his victory.

Winner via Pinfall: Saïd Ben Khalid

 

Brick’s eyes are wide.

“Samantha Hamilton is…amazing. She’s like Thor, only like, Female. I wonder if she has a hammer. I’ll bet she does. I bet it’s curvy and warm and…”

Nico interrupts, “I’m going to stop you right there Brick. The honorable Saïd Ben Khalid moves on to the next step of the Outlaw tournament and now we have the line up set for the Ladder match. We will see Saïd Ben Khalid, ‘Cactus’ Jack Bronson, and Lara Bratton fight to decide who will take home the Championship.”

“That Samantha Hamilton though,” Brick sighs, resting his chin on his hands, “I wonder if she noticed me.”

“I highly doubt she took the time to look at you while she was dealing with Saïd Ben Khalid and Omertà. Still, the performances Omertà and Hamilton put in show that they are no slouches in this Outlaw division. I truly believe it could have gone any direction in that one, it was simply a matter of the chips falling in Khalid’s favor. What a kick he has in that ‘Chapal Kebab’, though. Outstanding.

Brick doesn’t say another word, he just thinks about Samantha Hamilton.

Nico cringes, “Now we’re going to send you to the Korova Milkbar to catch up with the Vulgar one, Judy Albrecht!”

 

Amongst the few hundred wealthy individuals enjoying their time in this underground lair of sorts in Bel Air our focus is centered on the Korova Milk Bar and the beautiful species with the bartender’s attention. Judith Albrecht, dressed in her very unique ring attire. Think Rick Rude or the Velveteen Dream, the words VULGAR. HOSTILE. FEARLESS. are airbrushed over all white kick-pads, white knee pads, white denim shorts, and a white tank top. She even went as far as to wrap her hands and wrists up to mid forearm with white tape.

A flyer with tonight’s matches listed rest in front of Judy at the bar. She looks it over while removing the thought of that creepy Mikhail Reinhardt. When Judy had arrived she went straight to the bar and on her way in she caught a glimpse of what the competitors in the Outlaw Division had to offer. It drove her to drinking. The bartender, SAMUEL, his nametag reads, places a tall glass and a bottle of water on the bar top.

“Thank you. Come back and see me.” Samuel says. Judy grabs a water bottle from the bartender’s hands and moves through the crowd of people. She takes a seat on the plush sofa next to what we can only assume is her entourage with her front and center, holding a glass that has KOROVA vertical in black lettering.

Judy takes a sip of the milk. She wants to vomit, but forces it down with her eyes closed.

“It’s amazing, really.”

Judy burps and follows it up with a dry heave before rising from her seat and running away.

   

 

There’s an uncomfortable energy in the air as Vebbins and Daniels gaze at each other from opposite corners of the ring. The crowd has already let them know what they think of them with a chorus of ‘boos’. Nevertheless, the two competitors have stretched and are prepared to go to blows as the ref calls for the bell. The two competitors close the distance between them and Vebbins offers Daniels a handshake. The crowd boos this, but Daniels glances at Vebbins’ hand and shakes her head negatively. Vebbins’ expression shifts from polite and sweet to sour and sad.

Undeterred, Daniels puts her fists up– Vebbins does the same and the two step in striking. They go back and forth exchanging strikes until Vebbins takes a shot which staggers her, forcing her to shoot in and ground Daniels with a double leg takedown.

The crowd is really unimpressed with this.

Daniels quickly fights her way back to standing as Vebbins rises to meet her. Daniels inspects the crowd for a moment, before pulling Vebbins into a muay thai clinch. Sge drives two vicious knees into Vebbins’ face before Vebbins can get her hands up. Daniels releases the clinch and just as Vebbins rears her head back, Daniels tags her with a spinning heel kick which sends Vebbins into the corner. Again, Daniels surveys an unimpressed crowd and charges in with a huge dropkick to Vebbins in the corner. Vebbins’ legs go out from under her.

Vebbins falls and rolls to her back and Daniels, already on the second turnbuckle, climbs to the top and immediately hurls herself off with a moonsault. Vebbins manages to get out of the way and Daniels gets nothing but mat as she lands hard. Daniels tries to get right back up, but she’s only to her knees when she’s caught by a diving clothesline from Vebbins.

As Vebbins rises, she doesn’t seem to care about the crowd’s negativity. She flashes a dance move before returning to the task at hand.

Vebbins pulls Daniels to her feet and immediately transitions and rips Daniels over with a northern lights suplex. Vebbins rises to her tip toes as she looks for the pin. Daniels, however, kicks out before the ref can even get into position to make the count. Daniels and Vebbins are now back to their feet and exchanging strikes once again. The exchange boils down to Daniels connecting with one strike and Vebbins answering with one of her own until finally both competitors are nearly ‘standing eight’. Vebbins lands one more hard strike which spins Alyssa around. The someone in the crowd throws a beer bottle into the ring and it connects with the turnbuckle–it explodes into shards of glass. Daniels responds to the distraction by leaping from the mat, contorting in mid air and landing a pele kick to the back of Vebbins’ head.

That gets a cheer or two out of the crowd.

Both women are slow to get back up and when they meet, they’re looking for the same kick and catch each other by the foot. They share a smirk with each other, before Vebbins whips her body and lands an enziguri. Daniels hits the mat hard.

Vebbins scrambles to her feet and immediately pulls Daniels up by her bright pink hair and steadies her. Vebbins then turns around and arches her back like a pony and slaps her back, looking around at Daniels, asking for her to ‘hop on’. Daniels shakes the cobwebs loose and looks at Vebbins with a raised eyebrow.

Vebbins trots around the ring and spins with her hands up and prances for a moment to the delight of a previously hostile. At that moment, she’s blindsided by a superkick from Daniels. Vebbins is about to topple, but Daniels catches her and lets her soar with a belly to belly suplex. Vebbins hits the mat hard and is met with a diving knee drop from Daniels moments later.

Now the crowd is starting to get into it. Maybe it just took some ‘horsing around’.

Get it?

Vebbins gets onto her knees and pulls up her skirt, exposing her rear end, urging Daniels to give it a spank. The crowd really likes it, they begin chanting, “Spank that ass!” over and over again. Instead of giving Vebbins the spank she wants, Daniels lands a low drop kick right to the ginger’s rear end, flattening her out. From there, Daniels runs to the far turnbuckle and effortlessly pulls herself to the top. She turns as she balances and looks down at Vebbins, waiting for her to stand up. Daniels leaps off the top rope looking for a flying crossbody, but Vebbins charges forward, putting two knees right into Daniels’ chest, grounding her again.

Now the crowd is calling for Vebbins to return the favor, “Spank that ass!” over and over again.

Vebbins gets on her knees and crawls over to Daniels and holds out a flat hand just inches away from Daniels’ ass and looks at the crowd. The crowd encourages her to do so.

“Spank that ass!”

Sure enough, Vebbins spanks Daniels repeatedly, with authority. Vebbins then pulls Daniels up and leaps back towards the ropes and rushes back in, looking for the double knee opener of her finisher, when from out of nowhere, Daniels leaps up, grabs Vebbins’ neck and crushes her with the ‘Amnesia’ double knee facebuster! Vebbins hits the mat hard and Daniels rolls over onto her and hooks the leg!

The ref pounds out the beat – and to the chagrin of the crowd, not on Vebbins’ ass.

“One! Two! Three!”

Daniels rolls of Vebbins and sits up as ‘I Am The Fire’ by Halestorm hits!

Winner via pinfall: Alyssa Daniels

 

Nico is all alone and it looks like he’s having the time of his life.

“Brick can’t be with us at the moment because he’s onto his role as janitor. I couldn’t be happier. I honestly want to strangle that moron with one of those six foot long twizzlers he keeps sucking down. But I didn’t say that, because Tony Chu will bust me down to Valet or something fucking stupid.”

Nico realizes what he’s said and swallows hard before adjusting his tie.

“Jokes! See! I can be funny. Anyway, what a collision between Azurine Vebbins and Alyssa Daniels. I honestly thought Vebbins had the match in control until she decided to take things off into ‘horsey’ land. I guess that works for her and I’m not into kink shaming,” The thought gives Nico a momentary pause, “Still. Alyssa Daniels kept her eyes on the prize and managed to get one over on her ‘star-crossed’ lover, Azurine Vebbins. We now know that Alyssa Daniels will be involved in the triple threat elimination match for the Union Championship. What a night we’ve had so far!”

Nico leans back in his chair, happy in his Brick-free moment.

“Now we’re going to catch up with Azurine Vebbins.”

 

Cameras happen to catch Brick Ramrock pretending to mop up a spill outside “The Adorkable Angel” Azurine Vebbins’ dressing room. Despite legitimate news sources reporting Ramrock was part of a “Lateral Transfer,” he refuses to admit he’s no longer a reporter/interviewer. Ms. Vebbins appears to be looking for her girlfriend Alyssa Daniels when Ramrock whips out a microphone attached to the handle. Granted, an actual mophead should be where the microphone is located. However, as noted from his previous interviewing attempt Brick is a few short of a load. Matters aren’t helped when Azurine saunters out in that unmistakable Mykonos Blue Crochet Monokini she sported during her “Exploration” promo. Fumbling with his mop and bucket, Brick begins the interview on a sore subject.

“Homina, homina, homina…wanna get a drink after dis show’s all said and done, Devil in Dat Blue Swim Dress?”

“Brick, Mr. Ramrock, da nickname you were lookin’ for is “Da Damsel in Dat Dress” and even if you had said da right monikers deyr’s at least five women who’d tell me it’s a bad idea. Chief among dem is my sweet-heart Alyssa Daniels. Did you watch what we put each oder dr-ough? Crazy din’ is dat no matter how she took my antics, I’ll still be her little spoon tonight. Hence, why I need to be on my best behavior and not get my mind clouded by alcohol right ’bout now.”

“You mentioned five. Who would the other five women be?”

“Well, two are involved wid my alternative apprenticeship in Malibu. “

“The woman who hoofed you and her branded heifer?”

“Bite your tongue, Brick, but yes. Dey would agree spendin’ a quiet drink wid a neander-dal like you would be detrimental to my dazzlin’ divinity.”

Brick counts on his fingers, “That’s three. You’re still missing two.”

“Nova and Scarlett Hearst, i.e. da Union Division member who got you fired and your replacement.”

Brick’s quick to act cool, but you can tell he’s hurt, “Wasn’t fired. The brass called it a “lateral transfer.” I know they may not have American football where you come from, but there’s no shame in tossing a lateral now and again.”

“Seems someone hasn’t done deyr research, Mr. Ramrock. I’m quite familiar wid American football given Alyssa’s #24 for da Milwaukee Mayhem. She plays Runnin’ Back.”

“Anyone can throw terms around… I’d be a… A… Running DEATH!”

Azurine raises an eyebrow at that, but mostly ignores it as she continues, “Mentioned dat she was a Runnin’ Back ’cause her position requires achievin’ forward progression. Believe Management didn’t want to bruise your ego, Brick. Dat’s why dey said “lateral transfer.” Why? ’Cause Defense is bearin’ down on da Quarterback, da last-ditch effort is to lateral da ball backwards and hope someone can move da ball forward. Only din’ is dat you got sacked and placed into a Janitorial/Analyst position. No-din’ wrong wid eider. Both are noble professions.”

“Hadn’t thought of it that way…still involved with the show as an Analyst. Actually, that segues nicely into my next question. What do you make of the upcoming match between “Blissfully Vulgar” Judith Albrecht and Pandora Royce?”

“I know yesterday I tweeted dat Judy and I don’t see eye-to-eye on many din’s, but honestly it’s more eyes-to-glasses, right? Right. Buried deep down, we have a rarely spoken respect for each oder. Know Albrecht will deny it just like every-din’ else uttered or tweeted dis past week or so. Why? ’Cause more dan anyone in da Union Division, Judy Albrecht views Azurine Vebbins as her rival. She’s a heel among heels and I’m da most saccharine sweet of all da goody two-shoes.”

“Eh, I was thinking I should’ve followed the rules of never make passes at dames wearing glasses. Still, as a follow-up, does this rarely-spoken respect have you thinking Albrecht stands a chance against Royce tonight?”

“Right now. I’d say da odds are 80-20 Albrecht. Used to be 50-50, but viewin’ Royce’s promotional material lead me to believe she doesn’t possess da confidence to win. Still, as was da case in myd-ology once Pandora’s box was open…all heck broke loose…”

“Not losing another gig to innuendo. Since I could very well be relegated to more menial labor after this interview, I have one final pressing question. And again, that’s an industry term in investigative journalism for a question that really needs asking. Ms. Vebbins, why are you walking out towards the arena in that swimsuit?”

“Oh, dis ol’ din’? Well, I’m actually plannin’ to take some laps in da swimmin’ pool located next to da lanai out back. Figure gettin’ some breaststrokes and backstrokes in will keep me tone and limber for later on tonight.”

Brick’s confused, “Later tonight?”

“Exactly. Can’t wait to see da look on Alyssa’s face when it happens. Gettin’ better, Brick. Would say dis interview was, like, a 1 out of 10.”

“That’s 11 better than last time. Thank you for your time, Azurine Vebbins.”

The scene ends with Brick Ramrock fumbling with the mop handle like a bo staff while Azurine Vebbins heads out to the swimming pool.

 

The crowd is hungry for more violence as Albrecht steps forward from her corner and goes chest to chest with Royce who doesn’t back down an inch. The two share a stare down before the ref calls for them to fight. Albrecht pushes Royce backwards with enough force to put Royce down on her ass. Albrecht charges forward, putting a boot right into Royce’s face. Royce is grounded hard by the boot as Albrecht puts her hands up, calling for the crowd’s attention. The response is positive, by now the crowd is fairly inebriated and welcome any and all violence.

Albrecht pulls Royce up by her hair and slings her into the far corner and follows her in and lands a stiff elbow to Royce’s face. Albrecht pulls Royce out of the corner and with all of her might, deadlift suplexes Royce into the center of the ring. Royce looks like she’s out of it as the ref checks on her. All Albrecht can do is smile as she’s been completely unchallenged.

Albrecht calls out, “I told you! Pandora is clearly not fit for survival!”

Royce is up to her knees, and Albrecht charges her again, this time grounding Royce with a knee to the back of her head. Royce’s face snaps against the mat, her eyebrow bursts open. Albrecht wastes no time pulling Royce back up and crushes her with a short arm clothesline, but doesn’t let go. Again, Albrecht snaps Royce into another clothesline. Royce is ‘standing eight’ as blood pours from her brow. Albrecht whips her into the corner again. Albrecht charges in behind her, but Royce hits the mat and slides feet first beneath the bottom rope as Albrecht slams chest first into the turnbuckles.

The bloodthirsty crowd frenzies as more blood gushes from Royce’s brow, now cascading down her face and chest.

Royce is dazed, but forces herself back into the ring as Albrecht staggers backwards and Royce charges in with a leg lariat. Albrecht and Royce both crumble to the mat. Royce rolls over onto her chest and doesn’t move. Albrecht is on her back, but is stirring as the referee checks on both of them and begins a count. The count is pointless as Albrecht immediately scrambles to her feet and turns to wait on Royce to begin to stir. Albrecht pushes her hair out of her face, calling for Royce to stand.

The anticipation of the crowd is electric.

Royce is to her knees and finally stands as the crowd calls for her to look behind her. As she turns, Albrecht steps forward, looking for a savate kick, but Royce dodges and contorts her body violently and nails Albrecht right in the temple with a thunderous enzuigiri. Royce spends a moment on the mat, trying to clear the blood from her eyes. The ref checks on her, but Royce begs for no stoppage. Her brow is hanging open like the gaping maws of so many in the crowd. Royce pushes herself to her feet and charges towards Albrecht and hurls herself up into the air, looking for a standing moonsault, but Albrecht gets her knees up. Royce is t-boned by the knees and rolls over, seizing in pain.

The crowd chants, ‘Violence’ over and over.

Albrecht favors her knee for only a moment before pushing herself to her feet. She sizes up Royce and calls to the crowd, “You want violence? I’ll give you violence!”

Albrecht pulls Royce to her feet by her bloody hair. Albrecht lays in a stiff elbow to the already damaged brow, spinning Royce around. As Royce’s hair whips, it spatters the front row with blood. This only makes the crowd call out for more.

Albrecht goes behind Royce and hoists her up and over with a vicious german suplex. Albrecht takes Royce for ride three more times, completing four chained german suplexes before finally sinking in a rear naked choke. Royce’s hair is almost completely slick with blood as she fights Albrecht’s grip. More blood is pumping out of Royce with every beat of her heart. Albrecht now wears a crimson mask of her opponent’s blood.

The ref checks on Royce and looks like he’s about to call it!

The crowd’s going crazy.

The ref takes a step back as Royce uses her viscous state to break free from the choke. Royce spins around and wrestles Albrecht into a full mount and violently postures up and drives wild hammer fists down into Albrecht’s face. Albrecht gets her hands up, but some of the hammer fists slip past her guard and make contact. Albrecht looks like she’s in trouble as Royce continues the assault, screaming out as she goes. Albrecht, out of desperation, pulls Royce’s fists down and captures the back of her head and immediately transitions to rubber guard! Royce fights it, but Albrecht uses her leg strength to transition into a triangle choke!

The crowds roars again as Royce once again finds herself trapped!

Royce struggles against the hold–Albrecht cinches it in. The ref checks Royce, but she’s still with it. Royce’s blood paints Albrecht’s thighs as Royce attempts to transition. Royce tries to step over looking for the north-south position, but Albrecht pivots with her, maintaining control. Finally, out of desperation, Royce hoists Albrecht up and slams her down hard with a makeshift spin buster, but shockingly, Albrecht doesn’t release the hold!

The crowd chants ‘Vulgar’ repeatedly.

Albrecht has the triangle choke sunk in deep at this point, but Royce hasn’t given up yet. The ref checks Royce. She’s pumping blood, but thanks to her slippery state, she’s still able to maneuver to maintain breathing room. Royce steps around and breaks free from the triangle, but instead of going for north-south, Royce simply slumps to the mat and over onto her back. Albrecht, gassed from the series of submission attempts takes a moment to sit up. She wipes her brow and lets out a laugh as she pushes herself to her feet.

The crowd cheers as Albrecht rises. Royce isn’t moving. Albrecht moves slowly towards Royce and pulls her up and sets her up for her ‘Ignorant Shit’ piledriver. Albrecht lets out a breath before grasping Royce’s tights!

All that can be heard is the roar of the crowd calling for Albrecht to finish Royce.

Royce plants her feet and stands up, sending Albrecht flipping over her shoulders. Albrecht, however, doesn’t hit the mat, she completes the flip and lands on her feet. Royce turns around right into the ‘Vulgarness is Bliss’ superkick!

Royce collapses as Albrecht falls on top of her for the pin attempt! Albrecht hooks the leg.

The crowd is hushed as the ref calls out, “One! Two! Three!”

Royce doesn’t have it in her to kick out as ‘Hermés Freestyle’ by Saint Jhn hits! The ref helps Albrecht up and raises her hand! Albrecht, even with the victory, still looks gassed out from the match, but she can’t help but smile, knowing that she’s one step closer to the Union Championship.

Winner via Pinfall: ‘Blissfully Vulgar’ Judith Albrecht

 

Brick is back at the analysis booth and Nico doesn’t look too pleased.

“What a violent and bloody match. Pandora Royce proved she came to fight tonight, but it just wasn’t enough to hold back Judith Albrecht! Albrecht will now move on to take on Alyssa Daniels and either Lara Bratton or Nova in the finals for the Union Championship. Still, what a match.”

“There was a lot of blood. I don’t know if I’m going to eat ketchup anymore,” Brick cringes.

“I like how you take two thoughts that seem completely disconnected and somehow make them connect, Brick.”

“What?”

“Alright, we are now expecting a visit from Lara Bratton who has something to say before she takes on Nova. Let’s hear her out, shall we?”

Brick shakes his head, and holds his fingers to his lips like he’s trying to hold in vomit.

 

#S-P-I-R-I-T

#SPIRIT LET’S HEAR IT!

#S-P-I-R-I-T

#SPIRIT LET’S HEAR IT! LET’S GO!

The cheerleading intro to “Happy Song” as performed by Bring Me The Horizon begins to play as the letters and words pop on the screen in unison to the lyrics and the as the guitars kick in the name and face of “Prankster” Lara Bratton explodes onto the screen.

After a few long moments of the song playing, Lara steps through the curtain. She has a cane she has slung over one shoulder as she skips down the aisle as the chorus comes into to play.

#If I sing along a little fucking louder

#To a happy song, I’ll be alright

She continues to prance her way down the aisle. She’s dressed in a shredded leather jacket with a dirty t-shirt underneath along with a pair of old, worn jean shorts. She has long sports sock and disappear down into her large steel toed shoes. She does have a slightly smaller frame, a bit smaller than most of her female wrestling counterparts. Her hair is a bit disheveled and a sloppy looking braid comes out the back of her head. Her face is painted white, which mascara tears that roll down her cheek, though she seems to be all smiles today as she twirls her cane and makes her way up the steps and into the ring.

She walks over and takes a ring microphone from the ring announcer and as her music finally fades out, she speaks into the microphone.

“Well, hello everybody!”

The crowd doesn’t seem too pleased to see the prankster in the ring. “My name is Lara Bratton, also known as the Prankster. And I’m /so/ happy to be here!” Perhaps a bit of sarcasm on her part coming through. She leans against her cane as she takes a circle so she can see the crowd.

“It’s so nice that you are all so excited to see me! I mean, after what you’ve seen so far, to actually see a real wrestling star must be a special moment for everyone!” She unleans from her cane and flips it around a bit, “I’m practically wrestling royalty, if you ask me. So, I gotta fight a little girl named Nova. Well, miss Nova, I promise that I won’t cheat. I promise I won’t break any rules and I promise I’ll treat you with the utmost courtesy and respect during our match.”

She brings her hand up and, “Cross my heart. So let’s get this show on the road!”

 

The sun is down and the lights are up as the anticipation in the crowd grows. Admittedly, several of the guests are half in the bag, or worse, so they’d be happy to watch badgers fight, but that’s not what they’re going to get.

Nova and Bratton are in their separate corners as the ref checks them both. Bratton, having already seen action, looks somewhat tired, but isn’t leading on. She’s ready to go. So is Nova. The ref calls for the bell and the two aren’t interested in charging each other. They circle the ring as they size each other up. The distance closes rapidly, however, as the two meet in the center of the ring in a tie up. They fight back and forth for control. Nova comes out of the hold with a headlock, but Bratton quickly shifts position and spins out of it. The two meet again with another tie up, but this time Bratton makes sure her back is to the ref and sneaks in an eye rake. Nova favors her eyes long enough for Bratton to go behind Nova and rake her nails down her back.

The crowd groans as Nova staggers forward. Bratton charges up behind and quickly sinks in an abdominal stretch. Bratton balls up her free hand into a fist and drives strike after strike into Nova’s exposed midsection. Nova first tries to reach for the ropes, but once she realizes she’s too far away, she transitions and whips Bratton over her. Bratton lands hard and while it takes a moment for Nova recover from the abdominal stretch. Bratton rises quickly, but as she turns, she’s met by a running knee lift by Nova. Bratton staggers, but doesn’t fall. Nova heads back to the ropes and snaps off them with incredible momentum and plants Bratton on her back with a monstrous shining wizard.

As Nova rises, the fans get a good look at her back which now displays eight ugly claw marks travelling from her shoulder blades right to the small of her back. Nova collects herself and drops three quick elbow drops to Bratton’s chest, one right after the other. Nova rises once more before driving down with a leg drop to finish out the combination.

Nova pulls Bratton to her knees, but Bratton, knowing the ref is behind her, by design or desperation, connects with a low blow that lifts Nova off of her feet. The crowd’s collective groan and then celebration for the dirty move plays as theme music for Nova as she slumps to the mat. Bratton wastes no time as she flattens out Nova and locks in a camel clutch. Nova screams as her body is sickly contorted. Bratton reefs back on the hold with everything she’s got.

“Check her! She’s quitting!” Bratton roars with a smile.

It looks like Nova’s about to tap, but she balls up her fists and isolates both of Bratton’s legs and pushes herself up onto one knee. Bratton shakes her head back and forth violently, but Nova’s surprising strength takes her by surprise as Nova is able to shift to a standing position, with Bratton now on her back. Bratton transitions into a rear naked choke, but Nova rushes backwards, slamming Bratton’s spine into the turnbuckles. The crowd pops. Nova steps forward and for a second time, slams Bratton into the turnbuckles. Bratton, however, doesn’t let up. As Nova steps forward a third time, Bratton grapevines Nova’s torso and brings Nova down onto her back in a full rear naked choke.

The ref gets into position to check the hold.

Nova’s in trouble. Big trouble. Bratton has the hold sunk in tight. Nova wrestles one leg free and it gives her enough space to roll and get a hand on the bottom ring rope. It takes a full three count before Bratton releases the choke. Nova rolls out of the ring from beneath the bottom ring rope and flops unceremoniously onto the ground below. Bratton is still on her back, feeling the effects of both shots to the spine and having had the choke sunk in for so long.

The ref begins the count on Nova as Bratton slowly rises. Once Bratton is to her feet, clinging to the top ring rope, she smiles, showing her bright white fang like teeth, before pushing some sweat soaked hair out of her face.

Nova isn’t moving. The ref has counted to six.

Bratton breathes out, “This isn’t ending this way, oh no no it isn’t!”

Bratton slides out of the ring from beneath the bottom ring rope and immediately pulls Nova up by two fist fulls of her hair and runs before violently driving Nova into the ground with a bulldog. Inside the ring, the ref is now at four in his count. Bratton isn’t quite ready to return to the ring. She pulls Nova up and takes her by the hair once again. Bratton drives Nova’s face not once or twice, but three times into the ring post before from out of nowhere, Nova reverses and slams Bratton’s face into the ring post. For a moment, the two women stare at each other and there’s a flash of a brand of vicious mutual respect before Bratton drives two fingers into Nova’s eyes.

The ref’s count is at eight as Bratton takes a blinded Nova and rolls her back into the ring. Bratton slides in right behind her at the count of nine.

Looking closely, it’s apparent that Nova’s eye is red and the swelling is already starting around her eye socket. Bratton doesn’t care, that’s just the way she wants it. Bratton smirks as she steps towards the corner and climbs to the top. Nova rolls over onto her back as Bratton balances on the very top turnbuckle before leaping off the top. Bratton is about to execute a text-book Savage elbow drop when Nova rolls out of the way. Bratton crashes and burns.

The crowd boos as Nova rises to her feet, still favoring her right eye. Nova shrugs off the pain and pulls Bratton to her feet and sets her up for a double underhook facebuster. The ref steps in close to inspect Nova’s eye for a moment when Bratton drives another low blow into Nova. Nova actually leans on the ref for a moment, as Bratton rises up. Nova turns to see a wicked smile on Bratton’s face right before she drives a stiff boot into Nova’s midsection. The crowd cheers as Bratton readies Nova for a cradle piledriver. Bratton puts her own spin on it-as she hoists Nova up, she leaps and drives Nova down right on the top of her head. The concussion rattles the mat as Nova falls over limply.

Bratton goes for the cover! The ref counts out, ‘One! Two!’ but Nova somehow kicks out. Bratton is shocked, but quickly returns to her smile as she mounts Nova and drops one fist right after the other into Nova’s face. Nova is out of it as Bratton rises up and points towards the turnbuckle!

The crowd cheers as Bratton rushes to the turnbuckle. Nova pushes herself up and gets her knees under her, but as Nova rises, she turns right around into a diving knee from Bratton! The knee collides with Nova’s temple and both women crumble to the mat. Bratton can’t capitalize! The ref starts the count!

Bratton is the first to stir as Nova is still out on the mat. Bratton scrambles over to Nova, but there’s only a two count before Nova kicks out again. Nova kicks out so hard that she sends Bratton flying. Nova rises to her feet and turns to Bratton. Running on pure instinct, Nova scales to the top rope and waits as Bratton rises. Bratton turns just in time to catch ‘Stardust’! A vicious corkscrew stunner!

Again, neither woman can capitalize. Nova is out of it. Bratton is out of it. It’s unclear which woman has taken more damage. The ref starts another count as the women slowly begin to stir. The ref is to ‘five’ in his count as both women are back to their feet. Bratton smiles and extends a hand, for a handshake. Nova steps up, inspecting Bratton’s offer for a moment. Nova steps in with her hand extended, but is met with a vicious stomp to the foot!

Bratton once again drives a boot into Nova’s midsection and again lands a vicious leaping cradle piledriver. Bratton covers as the ref slides in to make the count!

“One! Two! Three!”

‘Happy Song’ by Bring Me The Horizon hits as Bratton sits up, breathing out, absorbing the moment.

Winner via pinfall: Lara Bratton

 

We return to Brick and Nico and once again, Brick is smitten.

“Nova will always be a winner in my book. Her…whole…wow. She’s amazing. I wonder if she’d let me taste her…”

Nico interrupts, “Keep yourself under control. What’s important here is that not only has Lara Bratton qualified for the Outlaw Championship match, but she’s just qualified for the Union Championship match. She has the opportunity to take home two championships tonight and I think that’s incredible.”

“Nova…”

Nico sighs, “Of course, we’re proud of Nova’s performance. She came up short, but you should give some credit to Lara Bratton for what she has accomplished tonight.”

“She’s been punching people in the crotch a lot.”

“And maybe you’re next Brick,” Nico imagines it for a moment and smiles, “I for one, would love to see that. Please god.”

“That’s like super mean. My crotch is super sensitive.”

“Please keep your crotch information to yourself, Brick. Next up, we’re going to hear from Lara Bratton. She’s had an opportunity to head back to the locker room and prepare for her next match and, well, she’s excited to get back to work…”

 

“Happy Song” plays again for the fourth time tonight as Lara Bratton makes her way towards the ring. She seems very happy with her performance so far as she slides her cane under the bottom rope and than slides in after it. She gets up onto her feet, picks up her cane and walks over to the side to get a microphone.

“Well, well, well!” she says as she grins widely. She’s a little more tired than she was the first time she was out here, but she seems to have caught her second wind. “I bet some of you are regretting those bets you made now, aren’t you?”

She cackles into the microphone, “First I win the battle royal, then I put Nova down for the count.” She leans in closer to the mic, “She won’t be setting her face around these parts again no more,” she jokes as she continues to prance around the ring. “Now, if I were a betting man then I’d go find the nearest bookie and change my bet and put everything I had on “Prankster” Lara Bratton.”

She moves to the center rope and leans against the top one, “Cause you see, I plan to go three for three on this series of idiot bashing and come out on top. I’ve been this close to championship gold for nearly a decade and if you think for one moment that I’m going to let this moment pass without taking full advantage, then go ahead and go place your money on one of these other chumpsters. Throw it away, for all I care. If you think I have used all the tricks up my sleeve, well for all those morons in the back, the joke is definitely on you.”

She cackles some more as she tosses the microphone from the ring.

 

The ladders are set up in and outside the ring – one is standing directly beneath the Outlaw Championship which is swinging in the light breeze. It’s dark, but still light enough to see, even without the ring lights. Bratton looks worn out – a she should, having been through two grueling matches already. Bronson is bruised and cut up, but he doesn’t look any worse for wear. Finally, Khalid looks fresh. He doesn’t look like he’s been through much, despite the war in the first round.

The bell rings and Bronson doesn’t even go for the ladder. He charges straight at Khalid and they meet with lefts and rights as Bratton just cocks her head to the side and smirks as she marches straight towards the ladder and starts to climb it.

Bronson and Khalid are so interested in destroying each other that they don’t even notice that Bratton is half way up the ladder already. She gets to the very top and she’s within an arm’s length of the championship.

The crowd is screaming for her to take the belt and win the match, and a few others are calling for her to ‘flash her tits’, but she ignores them. She just keeps shifting her eyes between the Championship and the mess Bronson and Khalid are making. She bites her bottom lip and climbs to the very top of the ladder and perches atop it. She kisses her hand and presses her fingers against the title before leaping off the ladder. It’s a solid twelve feet straight down as she collides with both Bronson and Khalid, taking them both down in a mass of human destruction.

All three competitors are down, but Bratton rolls over with a smile on her face as the crowd chants her name. She rolls over and gets to her feet and scrambles to the ladder a second time, but this time, when she’s halfway up the ladder, Bronson catches her, goes under her, and powerbombs her right into a rising Khalid.

Again, Bronson ignores the ladder and puts the boots to both Bratton and Khalid. Bronson rolls out of the ring and looks around for a weapon and pulls a plumber’s wrench out from under the ring and inspects the weight of it in his hand and nods approvingly before sliding back into the ring.

Khalid pushes Bratton off of him and dodges just in time to miss out on having that wrench land right between his eyes. Khalid rolls to his feet with wide eyes as Bronson charges at him with the wrench in hand. Khalid sidesteps and pushes Bronson face first into the ladder. Bronson and the ladder crash to the mat. Khalid rushes over and places the ladder atop a groggy Bronson and rushes back over to Bratton and hoists her up. He does a complete gorilla press before power slamming Bratton into the ladder, crushing Bronson beneath with the ‘Pitta Slam’!

Both Bratton and Bronson are down and out as Khalid pushes the mangled ladder out of the ring and slides outside to find another one. He folds the ladder up, the fifteen footer mind you, and slides it back into the ring.

By the time Khalid has the ladder set up, Bratton is back to her feet.

We’re unsure how, but she is.

Khalid starts climbing the ladder, as Bratton climbs to the top rope and propels herself off of it with a drop kick to Khalid’s back. Bratton has a long fall to the mat, but Khalid is only barely injured by the attack. He continues to climb and has his arm extended and his fingers are just inches from the title when Bronson takes hold of his heel and rips him off the ladder. Khalid goes face first into one step and bounces backwards, right into a reverse neckbreaker from Bronson!

Now Bronson finally turns his attention to the ladder, but he has a much more interesting idea for it than simply ‘a quick climb’. He folds up the ladder and proceeds to climb the turnbuckles with it in his hands. He gets to the top rope and looks odd atop the turnbuckle, but he’s there anyway. Khalid and Bratton are side by side in the ring as Bronson tosses the ladder up into the air and leaps at just the right moment to land a senton onto the ladder as it crashes into Bratton and Khalid. This fucks up Bronson bad. He favors his back and rolls clear out of the ring.

Khalid’s cheek is now bleeding and it’s not clear whether it was the fall or the most recent assault that caused it, but he rolls over, deliriously touching his cheek and looking at the blood on his fingers. Bratton is completely out of it.

Some time passes while the ref checks on the competitors as the crowd starts to get irritable. They’re booing and calling for action. The ref stops considers helping Khalid up, but stops himself.

Finally, as Khalid and Bratton are starting to stir, Bronson appears as just a set of eyes rising over the ring apron. He throws a hand into the ring and shows that he’s found himself a chain. In his other hand is a claw hammer. He slides into the ring with a wicked look in his eyes, but can barely get up because of the damage he’s done to his back. He manages to get the chain around Khalid’s neck and starts choking him out with it. Bronson balls the chain up in one hand and keeps choking Khalid and drives the hammer down into Khalid’s side.

Khalid is in trouble and the crowd is eating it up.

Bratton ignores the potential murdering going on and sets up the ladder. She looks up at the title and it might as well be a hundred miles away as she starts her ascent.

Khalid gets his knees underneath him and pushes himself up. In an insane feat of strength, Khalid spins around, chain still around his neck and flips Bronson over him with a belly to belly suplex! Both men crash to the mat. Bronson favors his back as Khalid gasps for air, now free of the chain. The thunderous impact causes the ladder to quake.

Bratton holds on for dear life, trying to steady the ladder, but it begins to fall over. Bratton keeps her hands on the ladder, but kicks her legs off and braces against the top ring rope and pushes herself and the ladder back towards the center of the ring. The ladder’s moving fast, but at the right moment, Bratton leaps off of the ladder and clutches the Outlaw Championship. The ladder continues to move, crashing into Khalid’s head as he rises. Bronson is barely to one knee as Bratton clings to the title like the cat on the ‘Hang in there’ poster.

The buttons on the Outlaw Championship start to give!

Bratton kicks her feet wildly, trying to will the buttons to unsnap, but just as they do, Bronson rises to her feet and catches her on the way down and plants her with a thunderous powerbomb!

The crowd is chanting Bratton’s name as she is officially the new Outlaw Champion, but Bronson doesn’t give a fuck. He pulls her up by the hair and glares at the Outlaw Championship which is face up on the mat and hoists Bratton up and tombstone piledrives her right into the title.

Bronson is about to continue beating on Bratton when Khalid rises and tackles him off of her and starts driving wild fists into Bronson. Finally, Fight Union security storms the ring to restrain both Khalid and Bronson as Bratton rolls out of the ring with the Outlaw Championship. She lands with a thud, but clutches the Outlaw Championship like it’s a life preserver and the Titanic just sank.

Winner & New Outlaw Champion: Lara Bratton

 

All Nico can do is shake his head, and no it’s not because Brick has taken his shirt off for some reason.

“I cannot believe my eyes. Lara Bratton somehow came out of that match with the Outlaw Championship, but considering what Bronson did to her, I will be shocked if she’s even able to compete in the Union Championship match. She would be in much worse shape had Khalid not intervened. I’m not sure if he did so on her behalf, or just wanted more of Bronson – either way, she’s lucky he stepped in when he did.”

“Are you overheated? I am. Like, super over heated.” Brick pulls off his wife-beater and is now full on tits out.

“Wow. Just. Wow,” Nico cringes, “While I do my best to erase that image from my mind, we here at Fight Union wish to congratulate Lara Bratton on earning the Outlaw Championship. She was up against some of the finest competition Fight Union has ever seen and undoubtedly, she has a long road ahead of her, carrying that Championship. Unfortunately for her, she only has a few moments to collect herself after the savage beating, before returning to the ring to face Daniels and Albrecht to decide who will be crowned Union Champion.”

Brick mutters, “I wonder if they still have those little cheese sandwiches. Those were good. Am I having a heart attack?”

Brick leaves the analysis desk, revealing that he’s now wearing only underwear as Nico pretends he doesn’t want to cry.

“Now we’re going to turn you over to our…new…COO,” Nico sighs hard, “Thirteen. She has some special words for us all after this quick advertisement.”

Nico grits his teeth.

   

   

Rows of books on mahogany shelves populate the opulent library. One of those books is opened within the hands of 13, leaning against the lip of the desk reading the words on the page with interest. She’s dressed to impress, an evening gown to catch your eye, a diamond studded choker and matching bracelet, her hair is elegantly brought up into a bun. She notices you suddenly, mildly starting from her book.

“Oh! Didn’t see you there.” She closes the book and sets it on the desk behind her to give you her full attention.

“Welcome to the first Violent Behavior. I’m 13, the recently signed Chief Operating Officer of Fight Union. Yes, my name is a number. But that’s not important. You’re joining us at the beginning of the story, and for that you have my sincerest gratitude. Tonight opens the first chapter of what is promising to be an amazing story populated with fascinating characters.”

She lifts away from the desk gracefully and purposely strides along the rows of books, inspecting the titles.

“There are many worthy competitors who have signed on the dotted line to be among those who kick Violent Behavior off with a bang. Each of these fighters has their own story to tell, and their own path to carve through Fight Union. This is only the beginning of the Fight Union story. Tonight, so far, we’ve seen the first Outlaw Champion crowned. Next? We find out who the first Union Champion will be. Will Alyssa Daniels capture her first championship? Or Will Lara Bratton have the last laugh… again? Perhaps this night will begin the Blissfully Vulgar Era?”

Her eyes shift away from the books, a sly smirk creeping onto her lips.

“I don’t have favorites. Whoever emerges victorious tonight won’t get a chance to rest on their achievement for long. There’s only one rule of Fight Union: you have to fight.”

She stops, and smiles at you, ready to bid you off to finish the show.

“Truly, it’ll be an honor to write history with you all tonight. I’ll be right here watching, as I have been, and looking ahead to see where this story might be heading in the Violent Behaviors that will follow. Enjoy the rest of the show.”

 

It’s down to Daniels, Albrecht, and Bratton. Bratton doesn’t look like she’s doing so hot and her injuries translate to blood in the water as the shark that is Judith Albrecht charges directly towards Bratton off the ring bell and drives a big boot right into Bratton’s face. The impact carries Bratton backwards and out through the middle and top ring ropes. Bratton hits the ground outside hard as Albrecht is blindsided by an assault of strikes at the hands of Daniels. Albrecht gets her guard up, but shots slip through and finally one catches her in the midsection which doubles her up.

Bratton looks like she’s either asleep or dead, outside the ring. The crowd eats it up.

Daniels, meanwhile, has Albrecht in a Muay Thai clinch and is driving relentless knees into Albrecht’s face. Albrecht has her guard up, but one knee slips through and connects with her nose, immediately drawing blood. Albrecht, out of desperation, pushes forward and grounds Daniels with a double leg. Albrecht uses the momentum to transition into half guard and drives a vicious forearm strike into Daniels’ face. Daniels, sensing the danger of the position, transitions out, and both Daniels and Albrecht return to a vertical base.

Albrecht grounds Daniels with a short arm lariat and charges to the far ropes and propels herself off of the ropes with a low dropkick to Daniels.

Meanwhile, Bratton has pulled herself back up, but without knowing it, she’s gained the attention of some ‘fans’ in Jessica Jones and Cyral Kanas.

The duo sneak over the guard rail. Bratton stands up and is immediately collapsed from a high/low from Kanas and Jones. It appears as though Kanas wasn’t happy about having his family jewels handled so inconsiderately by Bratton. While Kanas and Jones back away, happy with their work, the crowd cheers them on, despite their noted love for Lara Bratton.

Inside the ring, Albrecht has Daniels locked in an armbar and she’s making no bones about it with the ref.

“Check her! She’s ready to tap! Check her!”

Daniels shakes her head negatively as she forces herself to a standing position and turns into the armbar and uses all of her strength to lift Albrecht up and slam her down with a makeshift powerbomb. Albrecht releases the hold and favors her back.

“That’s my little girl!” a big man in the crowd yells, “Oops, big girl, I meant big girl.”

Daniels shakes her arm, attempting to get feeling back into it as she rushes to the far corner and leaps from the mat to the top turnbuckle in a single bound. She sets flight off the top turnbuckle and lands a picture perfect Shooting Star Press. She hooks the leg as the ref slides into position!

“One! Two!”

Albrecht kicks out, narrowly.

Meanwhile, Bratton has gotten back to her feet with the help of the ring apron and she reaches into the ring and gets a hold of Daniels’ feet and pulls her out of the ring. Daniels’ head bounces off the ring apron on the way down and Bratton proceeds to put the boots to her. The ref turns his attention to Bratton and Daniels and leaves the ring.

Meanwhile, Azurine Vebbins appears from the crowd with a fire extinguisher in hand. She slides over the guardrail and slides into the ring and pops to her feet. Albrecht slowly rises, but doesn’t realize she’s got company. Albrecht turns around right into a cloud of fire extinguisher discharge. She’s blinded by it and falls to her knees and Vebbins follows that up by slamming the bottom of the fire extinguisher into Albrecht’s forehead, both knocking her out and cutting her open.

Vebbins, feeling pretty happy with her work, tosses the extinguisher out of the ring and slides out. Vebbins walks backwards up the ring ramp and blows a kiss at Albrecht before vanishing into the dark of the entrance tunnel.

Outside of the ring, Bratton and Daniels have been exchanging lefts and rights. Bratton takes control and drives a stiff boot into Daniels’ midsection and plants Daniels with a jumping cradle piledriver.

On her way up, Bratton realizes that Albrecht is knocked out inside the ring. Bratton, always the opportunist, rushes the ring and slides in beneath the bottom ring rope and pops to her feet. She immediately goes for the pin on Albrecht. The ref slides into the ring and makes the count!

“One! Two!”

Albrecht narrowly kicks out, but it’s a weak kick out. Bratton pops up and rushes to the corner and climbs to the top rope.

Albrecht is bleeding buckets as she finally gets her knees underneath her. Bratton times it just right and lands the vicious ‘Punchline’ diving knee right to Albrecht’s temple. The impact takes Albrecht’s knees right out from under her. Bratton pins Albrecht, and unbeknownst to the ref, Bratton puts her feet on the ring ropes!

“One! Two!”

Albrecht tries to kick out, but can’t!

“Three!”

Judith Albrecht has been eliminated!

Bratton rises up, celebrating. What she doesn’t realize is that Daniels has been waiting for her, all along. Daniels leaps off of the top turnbuckle and grounds Bratton with a vicious superman(woman?) punch from the top rope. Bratton hits the mat hard, as does Daniels.

Albrecht finally stands up and she’s hopping mad. She’s screaming at the ref in regards to Bratton’s cheating and Vebbins’ interference, but the ref can only shrug. Albrecht smacks him in the face.

Daniels stands up and turns just in time to receive the ‘Vulgarness is Bliss’ superkick from Albrecht. Daniels crashes to the mat as Albrecht goes right to Bratton and pulls her up and promptly plants her with the ‘Ignorant Shit’ pulling piledriver.

Albrecht finally leaves the ring with a smirk on her face, as she’s leaving the two remaining Union hopefuls in a heap in the ring. Undoubtedly, she’s thinking about finding Vebbins next as her pace picks up as she makes her way up the entrance ramp.

Daniels and Bratton are both down in the ring.

The crowd is going wild–some now cheer for Daniels, yet the majority still cheer for ‘The Prankster’.

The ref is counting as Daniels and Bratton both try to get up. He’s at seven, but once he counts ‘eight’, it lights a fire beneath both competitors to rise to their feet.

The ref checks on them and ignores his urge to call the match and literally says, “Fuck it” out loud and tells them, “Mix it up!”

Bratton’s barely standing. Daniels is clearly in better shape after everything that’s happened. Daniels steps in and lands a one-two combination which staggers Bratton into the corner. Daniels takes a few steps backwards and charges in and lands a sick shining wizard on Bratton. Daniels falls away and rolls to her feet as Bratton slumps to the mat, still seated against the bottom turnbuckle. Daniels retreats again and this time charges forward, looking for a low drop kick. Somehow, Bratton is able to slide out of the way. Daniels crashes into the ring post, rather unfortunately, and falls out of the ring, clutching her left thigh.

Bratton looks up and can’t hide the fact that she’s dazed. Still, she forces a smile and lets out a laugh as she pulls herself to her knees on the ring ropes. Once she’s standing, her legs give out and she falls to the mat and rolls her legs out of the ring and once she has her feet under her, she rests on the ring apron.

Daniels is up, but she can’t put any weight on her left leg. Undaunted, Daniels limps her way to Bratton and with the help of the bottom ring rope, she tags Bratton in the head with an enziguri. Both women hit the floor again.

The ref is counting, but Daniels isn’t settling for getting herself back into the ring. She shoves Bratton into the ring first and slides in behind her and immediately goes for the pin. The ref slides into position!

“One! Two!”

Somehow, Bratton kicks out! Daniels blows the hair out of her face and uses the ring ropes to help her make her way to the corner. Daniels climbs up, and winces as she puts weight on her left leg. Bratton, running on fumes, leaps to her feet and scrambles up the turnbuckles and tries to meet Daniels with a superplex! Daniels drives lefts and rights into Bratton’s ribs and finally scores an overhand right which sends Bratton crashing down to the mat.

The crowd roars! It’s a mix of boos and cheers!

Daniels gains her balance and soars off the top rope and completes a 450° spin and finishes it with a brilliant elbow drop to Bratton, completing the ‘Shot to the Heart’!

Daniels can’t hook the leg, she just throws herself on top of Bratton as the ref slides into position to make the count!

“One! Two! Three!”

Bratton kicks out a moment too late!

‘I Am The Fire’ by Halestorm hits as Alyssa Daniels rises up with a shocked look on her face. Bratton is down and out as Thirteen enters the ring with the Union Championship. The music blasts as the crowd carries on. Thirteen places the belt around Alyssa’s waist and closes the snaps and then holds Alyssa’s hands up!

Most of those in the crowd stand and applaud what they’ve just witness, which the exception of some who are too plastered to stand up.

Winner & New Union Champion: Alyssa Daniels

 

Nico Sutton is all by himself as Brick wandered off in his underwear some time ago. Also, Brick may or may not have had a heart attack? We’ll look into that later.

Nico is standing and applauding what he’s just seen.

“Incredible match to cap off an incredible night. I wish you all were here to feel the electricity in the air. Alyssa Daniels has survived this match to become the first Union Champion in this reimagined Fight Union. Incredible. It should be mentioned that both Judith Albrecht and Lara Bratton gave it their all. Interference withheld, it was an incredible match in the culmination of the Union Championship tournament.”

He pauses a moment as he watches Alyssa Daniels and Thirteen pass the analysis desk and while he wants to growl at Thirteen, he stops himself.

“Thank you all for joining us tonight. Whether you were watching legally or illegally, we don’t care. We’re simply happy you could be a part of this amazing event. Like Thirteen said, this is merely the first chapter in the story of Fight Union. We’re looking forward to seeing you at chapter two! Now before we go, we’re going to send you to the ballroom to join in on a special moment between Kassandrah and our CEO, and rat bastard who fired me, Tony Chu. Enjoy & Goodnight!”

 

The dust has settled and the champions have been crowned. The show has been a success–a bigger success than anyone anticipated. The crowd has already made their way home and all that remains is some clean up and some hand shaking. Fight Union’s CEO, Tony Chu, however, has made his way to the ballroom to spend a quiet moment with the Chief Advisor, Kassandrah.

‘Forever Young’ by Bob Dylan is playing softly in the dimly lit ballroom as they dance slowly together. Kassandrah is in a beautiful evening gown and Tony, of course, is dressed to the nines in a red Brooks Brothers custom.

Tony looks into Kassandrah’s eyes, “So did you see this coming? Did you know that Violent Behavior was going to be such a colossal success?”

She smiles thoughtfully, her hand cradled in his as she rests her head softly against his shoulder and responds wistfully,

“Yes.” She leans her head back to look in his eyes. “I suppose I wonder what you intend to do with that success?”

“Multiply it, exponentially,” Tony sighs happily, “I know there’s an ‘Asian stereotype’ joke to be made there, but we’ll ignore it.”

The two continue dancing as if there’s no one else on the planet. Or better yet, as if they’re both on the surface of Mars.

“So what’s to come? What do you feel?” Tony asks.

She never loses that smirk, eyeing Tony as they sway softly, pressed tightly together. She blinks thoughtfully as she considers his question, the smirk drifting from her lips, before she looks at him more seriously.

“Tony, just try and remember that not all apples are good, okay?” She says with a suggestive nod, like she were trying to convince him.

“Not all apples are good?” Tony mulls, but is lost in the moment, “I’ll try to remember that.”

The two continue to dance as the scene slowly fades to black.