Location: Manhattan, New York; at an outdoor skating rink
Theme Music: Strung Out -- "War Called Home"
To start the night off, the fans in attendance are treated to a match between Booger and brother of fellow newcomer, Jayson Keller, Andrew Keller. Andrew is out first, where he waits for the grotesque form of Booger to wobble his way down to the ringside area.
Once inside, the smelly, bubbling form of Booger steps up to Andrew Keller and threatens to burp in his face. Andrew, not liking this one bit, fires back with a single punch to Booger's belly...
...only for his hand to get stuck in the girth.
Laughing at this, Booger jiggles his belly, applying some pressure onto Andrew's hand, bringing him down to his knees. Out of pure desperation, Andrew Keller throws up a thrusting chop into Booger's throat, disabling his laughter, turning his smile into a frothy frown.
Gasping for air, Booger stumbles back, only to be walloped with a running-clothesline to the back of his head, which causes him to stumble forward. Once more, Andrew Keller steps back and again charges ahead, striking Booger across the back of his head with a running forearm to the neck.
This results in Booger smashing front-first against the turnbuckles, forcing him to stumble back, only to walk directly into a hellacious punch to the face from Andrew; a move that he likes to call the "Mouthpiece"! Watching as Booger's collosal form crumbles to the ground, Andrew covers the big man with his left foot, opting not to actually cover him with his body.
The referee counts...
...1...2...3!
Winner by lethal punch to the head, Andrew Keller, who walks to the back, looking very proud of his victory. Booger, in the meantime, remains in the ring, trying to remember his name and what he ate five minutes ago.
He finally comes to the realization that his name is Booger, and five minutes ago, he ate 4 tacos, a pizza, a milkshake, some goat milk and Morgana's used tampon.
Winner: Andrew Keller
It's a crisp winter night in Manhattan, New York, as people circle around the skating rink at the Rockefeller Center. The peacefulness is soon ruined by the incoming calamity of the new Sin Wrestling World Champion, Chris Extreme, who looks like he hasn't slept since winning the title at the previous pay per view.
Slipping into the scene, he gets into several innocent people's face.
Chris Extreme: I'm the champion! I beat the pink! I beat evil lawyers! Me! I'm the champ!
The title he is talking about is not even in his hands -- or around his waist. Instead, the pink title belt is being dragged around inside of Chris's dog's mouth. The dog, named Roscoe, obediently follows Chris around, stepping across several snowy hills, in the process, as Chris, in only his boxers, prances around the outer portion of the skating rink.
Chris Extreme: That's right, me! Chris Extreme, the future President of the United States of America, is your Sin Wrestling World Champion! I killed the queen!
Numerous passersby look at him oddly, thinking he is out of his mind for being outside, wearing only white boxers, in this weather. Granted, the lunatic rambling doesn't help, either.
Chris Extreme: I'm the World Champ. Fuck you, Barrack, I'll cut your black balls of--...
Before he can finish, he is swept off his ice... by accidentally stepping onto the rink. Falling onto his back, the back of his head smacks the ice with a sick thud. In a daze, he looks dreamingly up at a figure standing above him, offering him a hand to help him stand.
Chris Extreme: Hitler, is that you? Am I in heaven?
Hitler: No, it's Corey Page.
Chris Extreme: ...Oh.
The haze dissipates from Chris Extreme's eyes, showing the form of Corey Page, the owner of Sin Wrestling, helping the current World Champion up to his feet. Upon realizing it's Corey, Chris immediately yanks his hand back and cleans his hands off on his filthy, cum-stained boxers.
Chris Extreme: You! What the hell do you want?!
Corey Page: Nothing, really. I just thought it'd be best not to have images of our current World Champion passed out on an ice rink, with drool hanging from his mouth, like a retarded 8 year old who shits in his pants.
Chris Extreme: Who do you think you are?! If I want to shit in my pants, it's my own business!
Corey Page: Uh, as usual, I don't think you get the point.
Chris Extreme: Oh, I get the point. I get the point fine and dandy. I know what you're up to... you're trying to take it away from me!
Corey Page: Uhm, what?
Chris points to the pink title that is covered in dog drool, which is hanging from Roscoe's mouth.
Chris Extreme: That! You're trying to take that away from me!
Corey Page is quick to interject.
Corey Page: Trust me, I'm not...
Chris Extreme: Trust... trust?! How can I trust you?! You put me through two sets of tables in 2006!
Corey Page: Hmm... good point, but you did try to murder me, take over my life and so on...
Chris Extreme: ...You know what, shut your mouth or I'll piss in it.
Chris goes to remove his cock from his pants, but Corey halts him.
Corey Page: Fine, fine. Just listen, in tonight's main event, you're facing Declan Turner, in sort of a rematch from Santa Claus is Dead!.
Chris Extreme: But I already Cock-Factored that faggot! Then he tried to sue me!
Corey Page: Actually, he hasn't sued you.
Chris Extreme: True.
Corey Page: But he probably will if you don't meet him tonight. Luckily for you, it's non-title.
Chris Extreme: Well, thank fucking Hitler. I'll be damned if I ever defend my precious piece of garbage.
Corey Page: Uhh... anyhow, make sure you're ready for that match. It's the main event.
Chris Extreme: Oh, trust me, I'll be ready. And I have my own special plans with that title, as well.
Corey Page: Huh?
Chris Extreme: [innocently] Oh, nevermind.
Corey Page: All k.
Corey Page turns around and walks off. Chris Extreme goes to chase after him, but he again slips on the ice. Before we fade out, Roscoe drops the title and then barks at Chris Extreme, demanding that he stand to his feet.
Queen of the Stone Age's "Sick Sick Sick" revs onto the speakers, but Chris Carson looks like he's actually dressed for some sort of celebration. He has on a specially-designed Boston Red Sox jersey and proudly displays a "Creep 08" decal stitched on the back, much to the chagrin of a primarily pro-New York crowd. He also carries with him a bottle of champagne and brings it gingerly into the ring with him. He signals for the microphone.
Chris Carson: Well, let me be the first to address all you fuckheads and wish you a Happy New Year! I mean, if you can find any joy in watchin' us New Englanders win everythin' in sports!
The crowd doesn’t appreciate the holiday wishes.
Chris Carson: You know, I know that I had a rotten 2007, but these past few weeks has given me the chance to really think about the good that's come from it. Things looked bad for a while, but look what 2007 has brought us! We're about to have four more years of male supremacy in the Oval Office, since your senator can't seem to stop cryin' on the campaign trail!
A few drink cups are tossed at Carson, but he doesn't seem to be finished with his tirade, marching about the ring.
Chris Carson: Even better, not only did I shut down most of the females on the roster last year, but I personally showed up Pinky and screwed her out of her precious World Title! No women holding titles? Why, I do believe I have accomplished Phase One of my plan! And to celebrate, I think it's high time I light up a cigar and pop a cork at Morgy's expense! Gentlemen, roll out the carpet, hand me my goggles, and cue the Dropkicks!
Two men ringside pull out a rolled-up carpet and push it into the ring. While Carson straps on some goggles and pops the champagne cork, the men unroll a pink carpet with Morgana’s face embroidered on it. As the violins to The Dropkick Murphys' "I'm Shippin' Up To Boston" play their unmistakable jig, Carson dances like Jonathan Papelbon all over the Morgana rug, spraying champagne everywhere. He draws the most ire when he stomps his feet all over Morgana's face, takes a swig from the bottle, and spits it onto the rug.
Chris Carson: There! Now that the celebration's over, let's get down to business!
The crew rolls up the carpet while Carson gets ready to wrestle.
Out next is The Day Laborer, also known as Johnnyboy. He comes to the ring, doing Mexican stuff, such as jumping over a railing and eating a taco. He slides inside, facing an obviously disgusted Chris Carson, who doesn't like open borders.
Finally, Harland Delacroix comes out, making his first on-air appearance in Sin Wrestling, since finding himself in a dark match before Santa Claus is Dead!. And what a way to make an on-air debut, too, by vying for the Television Title, which is held by Sebastian York. Once he enters the ring, he stares at both of his opponents, trying to intimidate them, obviously failing when it comes to "The Creep".
Ding, ding, ding!
The bell rings and thus the match starts, with all three competitors stepping into the center of the ring. To start things off, Johnnyboy pokes Chris Carson in the chest, only to have "The Creep" fire back with a slap to Johnnyboy's face. In response to this, Johnnyboy fires off a chop to Harland's chest, to which he responds by simply punching Johnnyboy in the head, knocking him down.
Turning his attention to "The Creep", Harland instantly kicks him in the gut, gaining the advantage for the time being. This keeps up until Harland tries to whip "The Creep" across the ring and into a corner, only to have it reversed. Instead, Chris Carson sends Harland into the corner; and when he stumbles out, Chris Carson hits him with a high-backdrop.
Just as Chris Carson goes to stomp on Harland, however; Johnnyboy jumps to his feet and storms up behind him and leaps into the air. On his way down, he grabs onto Carson's head, jamming him down face-first onto Harland's crotch with a bulldog!
Having stomped Chris Carson into the corner, Johnnyboy turns to Harland, who tries to stand, holding his crotch with his hands. For his efforts, though, Johnnyboy receives a headbutt into his own crotch, resulting in him hunching over, holding his groin. Right away, Harland strikes with a kneelift to the face, following that up with a sweeping roundhouse-kick to Johnnyboy's head, knocking him onto the ground.
Upon seeing Chris Carson sitting in the corner, slightly dazed, Harland steamrolls in and connects with a running baseball-slide dropkick to "The Creep"'s chest. He pulls Chris Carson out and makes the cover...
...1...2...
However, "The Creep" calmly places his right foot on the bottom rope, stopping the count.
Disappointed, Harland picks Chris Carson back up, only to blast him with a European Uppercut, dizzying "The Creep", who stumbles back, noticing Johnnyboy charge at him. Ducking beneath a clothesline attack, "The Creep" allows for Johnnyboy to smash directly into Harland, knocking him to the floor.
After smashing his head against Harland's head, Johnnyboy stumbles back, swinging his fists at nothing but air. Viciously swinging Johnnyboy around, Chris Carson hoists The Day Laborer into the air, into a vertical suplex position, only to quick spin him out, driving him down to the canvas with the "CC Bomb"!
From here, "The Creep" rolls Johnnyboy over onto his stomach and then applies "The Silencer", even applying a cheap fish-hook, in the process. In seconds, Johnnyboy is tapping out, giving "The Creep" the victory and the Television Title shot.
Victorious, he stands to his feet, pulling his hand away from the referee, who tries to declare him the winner. Seeing Chris Carson get the win, Harland slowly creeps to the back, while Chris Carson stomps Johnnyboy out of the ring. Moving into the corner, Chris Carson requests the microphone once more, which he quickly receives.
Wiping sweat from his brow, "The Creep" begins to talk... and everyone listens.
Chris Carson: Morgana, I know your heart is breaking about what I did; and I know you want your title back, but remember... things between us are not over, Pinky. I want one more match, one-on-one, to end it all. Know that I'll always be right behind you, Pinky. Wherever you are, I will be right behind you, hunting you down, until our final match.
He takes a deep breath.
Chris Carson: As for Sebastian York, you're next on my list in my path to Morgana... you and your Television Title. Keep that title warm for me, Sebastian, because I'm coming for it. And don't think I've forgotten whose fault it was that I got eliminated at the last pay per view. It was you.
"The Creep" drops the microphone and storms out of the ring, while his music plays, receiving a loud jeer from the fans.
Winner: Chris Carson
We cut away from the ring to a blank screen. One of those expensive sounding narrators speaks up.
Narrator: The following public service announcement was paid for by Corey Ashton.
...And then this beautiful image comes up....
A new scene opens up, obviously taped earlier in the day. It’s "Everybody’s Working Class Hero", Corey Ashton; and he is seated in a bubble bath, up to his neck in bubbles. Pictures of former Television Champ, Adora, are scattered on the wall behind the sexy beast.
Corey Ashton: Hello there. I’m Corey Ashton and I care about Adora. You could even make a case for Adora being my drug of choice. The yin to my wang. I have a problem, though! My beautiful blondie is nowhere to be found.
Corey darts his head to the right and the left. Nope, nowhere in sight!
Corey Ashton: And until she returns, I have venture on a new quest. Two new goals to set my sights on. One is to remove this nasty itch down here.
Corey points between his legs and grimaces.
Corey Ashton: And the other is to remove a nasty itch from Sin Wrestling. Uno momento, bitches!
Ashton fishes into the water and retrieves a sloppy, soggy picture of Sebastian York.
Corey Ashton: This little adorable creep right here. He’s different, he’s not different. He can’t seem to make up his widdle mind on anything!
Cheesy grin.
Corey Ashton: I’m calling you out, Yorkie. I want those championships you tot around. I want to sweep you from the rug. What do you say? How about showing some of that fortitude you’re always droning on about?
Corey places the photograph back between his legs.
Corey Ashton: You can’t seem to get off Morgana’s nuts, so I’ll just let you rest on mine for a while. See ya, sweetheart! Big kisses!
We cut away from this disturbing, yet arousing sequence.
The loud sounds of Against Me's! "Sink, Florida, Sink" hit the sound system like the sound of thunder. The crowd is silent for the most part, apart from the usual drunken screams and ignorant cheers. Through the curtains, out steps Corey Ashton, bearing a smug look on his face and showing no attention to the fans, ignoring them as if they weren't even there. His only attire is a pair of black traditional wrestling boots, white wrist tape and a pair of black Muay Thai style shorts.
Ring Announcer: Making his way to the ring, weighing in a sleek two hundred sixteen pound and standing at five eleven! He hails from Seattle, Washington! Corey Ashton!
Corey slides underneath the bottom rope and stands up quickly, immediately goes into a corner and waits for the match to kick-off, with a determined look on his face.
The arena goes black and a low hiss is heard. "I'm So Sick (T-Virus Remix)" by Flyleaf fades in harshly, cranked up to its highest setting possible. An image appears.
/ the
destiny
show
i will break into your thoughts
with what's written on my heart
Scarlet fireworks explode in chain up to the top of the entrance ramp, where the flames form a ring of fire from which Destiny emerges. She sways down to the ring, an albino snake resting atop her shoulders.
i'm so sick infected with where I live
let me live without this
empty bliss,selfishness
i will break! break!
Handing the snake to a stagehand, she slides into the ring, reveling in the reaction of the crowd. She tests the ropes, motions for her music to be cut, and feigns a devilish smile.
destiny
fulfilled /
The bell rings and Corey and Destiny wade toward each other, with Destiny being the aggressor, locking in a side-headlock. Corey Ashton playfully rolls along, despite his head being in a vice from Destiny. Growing tired of this position, though, he soon pushes Destiny off, throwing her into the ropes. Bouncing off, she returns, only to run directly into a shoulderblock from Corey Ashton.
Not enjoying falling on her back, Destiny instantly pops up, seeing Corey extend his hand for a handshake. Looking around at the fans, she checks if she should accept it; with the fans wisely telling her not to.
In response to the handshake attempt, Destiny spins around, offering a spinning-kick to Corey Ashton's hand. forcing him to step back, holding onto his wrist. Speaking of which, Destiny immediately grabs his hand and then applies a wristlock. From this position, she slinks her left leg over Corey's arm, only to then quickly kick him in the face, just as fast she was able to wrap her leg around his arm.
Dizzy, Corey Ashton holds his face, while Destiny sweeps her legs around, back-tripping him, knocking him down. Jumping back up, she stands above Corey, double-stomps on his chest and then hits a standing moonsault off him!
She hooks his leg...
...1...2...
At the count of two, Corey Ashton is able to easily kick out, continuing the match!
Sitting Corey up, Destiny begins to unload with football-kicks to Corey's back and chest. Stepping back, she goes to strike with a kick to his head; but before she connects, Corey reaches up, uses both hands to block the blow and then takes her down with a Dragonscrew legwhip!
Hoping to remove the fatal kicks from Destiny's arsenal, Corey begins kicking and stomping at both of her legs, keeping her grounded. When he is finished kicking and toying with her, he picks her up, only to then strike her with repeated knees-to-the-face. These perfectly-placed knees are enough to knock Destiny back, leaving her wobbly and air-headed, which is prime for Corey, as he spins around and hits a roaring-forearm!
Driven to the mat, a battered Destiny tries to get back up, but she faces more kicks and stomps to her knees, having those followed up with a gutwrench suplex from Corey. Seconds later, Corey Ashton grabs onto her left leg, swings her over and then applies a single-leg Boston Crab!
Despite having Corey pull on her leg, trying to earn a submission victory, Destiny is able to twist onto her side and roll her way out of the hold, escaping from the submission. Unfortunately, her left leg/foot is still trapped in Corey's clutches, giving her no other option but to weave around and strike Corey's chest with a modified mule-kick, pushing him into the ropes.
Annoyed with Destiny's lack of cohesiveness, Corey Ashton pushes himself off the ropes and rumbles towards Destiny, trying to clothesline her down. Feeling her legs wobble beneath her, she astutely ducks down, only to waistlock Corey. In a matter of seconds, she jumps onto his shoulders and rolls forward, attempting a Victory Roll.
Looming forward, Destiny rolls through Corey's legs, hooking them down, trying for a pinfall...
...1...2...
But no dice, as Corey Ashton kicks out!
Corey Ashton rises to his feet before Destiny, feeling surprised by the sudden rollup attempt. Taking advantage of this, he chopblocks her left leg from beneath her, sending her flipping back through the air!
Circling her fallen body, Corey Ashton stops at her feet, soon seeing her grabbing her left ankle and lifting her foot/leg off the canvas. From this position, he is able to strike with some kicks to her inner-calf muscle, still trying to keep her immobile and powering down her legs.
Still with the same left leg/ankle hooked, Corey lifts her up to her feet, grabbing ahold of her hair to help with the lifting, only to then suddenly snap inward, delivering a second Dragonscrew-legwhip!
On his knees, Corey notices Destiny writhing in pain, holding her left leg, trying to regain feeling in it. Opting not to put more pressure on it, he goes for the cover, instead. The referee starts his count...
...1...2...
As the two is made, Destiny kicks out, continuing the match, despite the surging pain in her leg!
Angst-ridden about the lack of a pinfall, Corey Ashton grabs another tuft of Destiny Daniels hair and lifts her up. After swatting her with some chops, Corey whips her into the ropes and watches her rebound. Ducking down, he goes for a backdrop; but using her right leg, which is the lesser injured leg, she kicks him in the jaw, knocking him backward.
Still using her right leg, Destiny reaches upward with her foot and connects with a Roundhouse Kick to Corey's head! She drops down and makes a hasty cover!
...1...2...
Almost surprised with defeat, Corey Ashton kicks out!
Springing from beneath Destiny, Corey pops up, shrugging off the damage from the kick, only to then lock onto Destiny. Waistlocking her, he is surprised when she fires back with some back-elbow shots. Slithering out of Corey's clutches, Destiny swings around and applies her very own waistlock on Corey.
Much like Destiny before him, Corey struggles to break free, but Destiny reuses a move that nearly got her a pinfall a few minutes ago. Leaping onto Corey Ashton's shoulders, Destiny goes for a Victory Roll... only to have Corey push her forward, dropping her onto her feet. Applying a secondary waistlock, Corey Ashton goes to throw her overhead with a release German Suplex...
Amazingly, Destiny is able to completely backflip and land safely on her feet, astonishing even Corey Ashton, who instantly rises to his feet, with Destiny charging right back at him. Ducking down, he lifts her up onto his shoulders with a standing fireman's carry... and then brings her back down with "The Fall of Neptune" Death Valley Driver!
Corey decides against going for the cover, offering to go to the top turnbuckle pad, instead. Walking into the corner, Corey climbs to the top, watching as Destiny remains down on the canvas. In no time, he dives off the top rope, hoping to hit a Frog Splash...
...but Destiny Daniels rolls out of the way; and Corey Ashton crashlands face-first into the canvas!
Barely able to stand, Destiny wobbles toward Corey, who remains on his stomach, only to then wrap him up with a majistral-cradle! The referee sees this and counts...
...1...2...
Again, Corey Ashton rolls out of it... only for Destiny to then lock on "The Cottonmouth"!
With her deadly maneuver applied, she wrenches back, trying to get a submission out of Corey, who flails wildly, looking for an escape!
...Rolling forward, he finds the escape, allowing him to sit atop Destiny, covering her. As usual, the referee counts...
...1...2...
This time, it's Destiny rolling to safety, but not for long, as Corey Ashton slips out behind her and latches onto left foot, where he promptly applies the Ashton Ankle Lock!
Pain pervades throughout Destiny's leg, as she struggles to survive, with Corey keeping her grounded until she is able to get to a kneeling position. Before Corey can drop down and grapevine Destiny's leg, Destiny is able to use her right leg to apply a body-scissors onto Corey.
Seconds later, she has him rolled-up with a modified rollup!
...1...2...!
Nano-seconds before the referee's hand strikes the canvas for a third time, Corey Ashton is able to kick out, despite the sudden rollup!
At approximately the same time, both challengers rise, with Destiny nearest to the ropes and Corey near the middle part. Corey Ashton charges forward and then clotheslines both himself and Destiny up-and-over the top rope and out to the floor, where they smash on the cold, hard, covered, rink floor!
Out here, Corey and Destiny begin exchanging blows; Destiny with some chops, and Corey with some punches and forearms. In the meantime, the referee has begun his count...
...1...2...3...4...
Corey overpowers Destiny and backs her against the ring post. He winds up and swings his fist towards her head...
...but she ducks; and Corey's fist smashes into the cold, unforgiving steel post.
...5...6...7...
Hoping to capitalize on Corey's mistiming, Destiny charges forward, only to have Corey Ashton interrupt her blow by flinging her overhead with a release exploder-suplex!
...8...9...
Corey Ashton stands, hears the count and immediately rolls inside the ring.
...10!
Inside of the ring, at just the proper time, Corey Ashton rises, realizing that he has gained the countout victory! Hopping up, he celebrates his victory, almost leaping into the referee's arms, clearly enjoying his win.
As Corey celebrates inside of the ring, Destiny Daniels stands on the floor, looking obviously disappointed in the loss, still holding her damaged left leg. Watching as Corey celebrates a little too much, she shakes her head and simply walks to the back, vowing revenge, getting a pretty good applause from the fans.
The scene fades out, last showing Corey Ashton celebrating his win.
Winner: Corey Ashton (via countout)
The weather is a bit chilly, but it's nothing Trenton hasn't experienced before. He stands watching the show from a place where fans can't get to him. This is the first night of the rest of his life and he honestly cannot wait to get started. Deep down inside, his heart growls in anticipation.
He speaks to no one, expecting no answer.
Trenton Pierce: Just about time.
"It appears you're ready. Not having second thoughts, I see." A voice answers inside his head. He turns to the left and sees himself standing, smoking a cigarette and watching the show.
Trenton Pierce: None, as you said, it's what's best for me, afterall.
Trenton responds and stretches out.
"Lets get a few things cleared up, first. I told you what I wanted and I really do hope you won't do something stupid and turn against my wishes as soon as thing start getting ugly. Because you do realize, I plan to make things get ugly." He confessed staring Trenton down.
Trenton Pierce: What you do, is what you do. I will in no way interfere. I need the victory, I need the publicity, and I need to be the face of this federation.
He speaks without hesitation.
Trenton Pierce: Whatever you gotta do to get me there, do it. Just don't kill me in the process.
Trenton's alter-ego stepped around him, clapping his hands. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and began dancing in celebration.
"That's what I like to hear!" He yelled, slapping Trenton on the back. "Good, but you're not entirely useless."
Trenton Pierce: Huh?
"Well, you see, even though I'm going to do whatever I can to destroy these two maggots, I'm just not a good talker like you. I'm not exactly a people person, I'd rather see a person dead than hold a conversation with them. So I'll do the fighting, but I need you to do the talking. Do whatever you have to do to make yourself a target. Piss people off, dig into their personal lives and make them regret ever saying a word about you. If you can do that, and I can kick the shit out of these puke opponents of ours, then we'll be the most unstoppable duo that never existed... Catch my drift?" He said, once more standing at Trenton's side.
Trenton Pierce: Yeah, I guess I do.
"Good champ, good. You need to get me laced up now, the show is about to begin." His voice trailed off and his body disappeared and once more Trenton was himself, on the ground convulsing. A few worried people passed by but being in Manhattan, didn't exactly truth a man seizing on the ground. The match was about to begin, and Trenton was about to become a star.
A giant, blood dripping globe with a swastika carved into it appears. Chris Extreme's voice is heard shouting viciously in the background.
DIE WHORES!
DIE FAGGOTS!
DIE NIGGERS!
DIE SPICS!
DIE CHINKS!
DIE MUSLIMS!
DIE JEWS!
DIE JESUS!
DIE GOD!
DIE MOTHER EARTH!
DIE HUMANITY DIE!
The heavy metal tune of "Sonne" by Rammstein blasts over the speakers. Chris Extreme marches out, swastika scarred on his naked chest, and geared up in white boxers and white socks. In his hand, he is carrying a black bag, and has Roscoe the dog marching behind him, headed towards the ring. Roscoe still has the pink World Title belt in his maw, continuing to hold it, as Chris hoists Roscoe up and lifts him into the ring.
Walking around the outer portion of the ring, Chris Extreme steps towards the announcer and takes the microphone from him. Rolling inside, still with the black bag in hand, Chris takes a spot next to Roscoe, telling Roscoe to sit, which he obliges, still with the gnawed-on title belt in his mouth.
Chris Extreme begins to speak.
Chris Extreme: My Jesus God, that was a breathtaking entrance.
A round of jeers pour in.
Chris Extreme: Now, I'm not going to be long. I'm not going to bore you to death, unlike all the other boring faggots in the back -- you know who you are. Instead, I, Lord Nazi, the future President, come here tonight to make an announcement. And it concerns that...
Chris points to the specially made pink title, which was made for Morgana that hangs out of Roscoe's mouth, full of drool and snot.
Chris Extreme: I'm talking about that piece of pink pussy shit!
Hunching over, Chris grabs the pink title and rips it out of Roscoe's mouth, sending dog drool all over the canvas. Holding it high in the air, he displays it to everyone, letting them have a good look at it.
Chris Extreme: This is the last goddamn time you'll ever see this belt. This belt is dead to me! Why? This is why...
Throwing the pink title to the mat, Chris turns his attention back to the black bag that he brought to the ring. Reaching inside, he plucks out a shiny new title belt, which has a coal-black strap; with a Swastika lodged firmly on the front of it. On the side are red, white and blue flags, showing off Chris Extreme's run for the presidency. Unlike Morgana's pretty, pink title belt, this belt is a cacophony of hate.
Chris Extreme: Ladies and whores, I present to you... the new World Title!
Wrapping the belt snugly around his waist, he turns to face Roscoe.
Chris Extreme: Roscoe, how do I look?
Roscoe responds by furiously humping Chris Extreme's leg.
Chris Extreme: My thoughts exactly. As for you...
He again points towards the pink title, which is laying alone on the mat. Hovering over it, he adjusts his boxers, things not looking very swell for Morgy's former title.
Chris Extreme: You're worth nothing to me. You're about as worthless as... as... as shit! Yes, shit!
With that said, Chris Extreme begins to slide down his boxers and then turns around, preparing to bend over and relieve himself on the title. However, before the fans bare witness to this sickening event, their attention turns towards the entrance, where Declan Turner, Chris Extreme's opponent for tonight, is shown running down.
Chris Extreme: Shit... oh, shit...
Having his boxers barely pulled up, Chris Extreme slides out of the ring, holding his newfound Nazi World Title, with Roscoe tucked beneath his arms. Once Declan Turner slides inside, he steps around, making sure that Chris makes his exit, only to peer down at the pink World Title. Soon enough, Declan Turner kicks it out of the ring, stopping momentarily to point at Chris Extreme, as he exits to the back.
Generic Heel walks to the ring first, with no music, thrilling absolutely no one in attendance. Nevertheless, it's his debut and he waits for his two opponents to come out.
"It's The End Of The World As We Know It" by Great Big Sea hits the speakers. Brietta Corrado walks to the ring, dead center of the ramp, a slight smirk on her lips. As she walks, she undoes the purple tie around her neck, and unbuttons the top two buttons on her black blouse. She jumps over the top rope and walks to her corner. She gives a dismissive wave to the mixed shouts of the crowd, and sits on the ropes, waiting for the match to start.
Those three words on the screen can only mean one thing... the arrival of Trenton Pierce!
"Now is the time for me to rise to my feet Wipe the spit from my face, wipe these tears from my eyes.."
The crowd jumps to their feet to cheer on the incoming legend. Trenton Pierce walks onto the stage to an array of fireworks that pump up the crowd even more. He descends to the ring, catching as many of the audience members as he can with a simple hand slap on the way. Once he gets to the ring, he steps up on the apron and throws his right fist into the air before stepping between the ropes and into the ring. He jumps at the far turnbuckle and raises his hands in a celebratory manner, even hitting every turnbuckle before beginning his pre-match warm-up. He stands in the corner, waiting for the match to start.
Upon the ringing of the bell, all competitors step toward each other, except for Generic Heel, who instantly rolls to the floor, watching from the outside. Trenton Pierce goes to drag him back in, but before he can get anywhere, Brietta Corrado jumps him from behind, striking him with a vicious elbow and forearm to the neck.
Thanks to the surprise attack, Brietta, who is making her on-air debut, is able to control the opening of the match, as she slaps and strikes at Trenton's pierce. At one point, she claws his back and face, which further aggravates Trenton, whose energy gains a resurgence.
After Brietta climbs to the second rope, she leaps off, expecting to hit a flying double-axehandle smash to the tip of Trenton's head. Unfortunately, Trenton is very much aware of this, resulting in him stepping to the side and swatting her in the gut with a punch to the gut.
As she flips over, Trenton immediately starts delivering football-kicks to her back, hoping to beat and rumble her down. Lifting her up, he places her between his legs, lifting her up into a powerbomb-position... only to have his right leg clipped out from beneath him by Generic Heel, who sneakily slips into the ring!
Using the endowed method of stomps, kicks and gouging, Generic Heel tries to one-up Trenton Pierce... only to have Trenton reverse things and wind up on top of Generic Heel, pounding him down with an influx of fists. Unfortunately, his attempts are thwarted by Brietta Corrado, who stands to her feet and connects with a sit-down dropkick to Trenton's pierce, knocking him off Generic Heel.
As quietly as he entered, Generic Heel quickly slips outside, hiding by the ring post, watching as Brietta clubs Trenton with some fists. Lifting him up, she whips him into the corner and goes to follow in with a running double-knee to his chest. Before she can connect, though, Trenton steps out of the way, thus smashing both of her knees against the top turnbuckle.
Thinking quickly, Trenton grabs her from behind, lifts her up into a back-suplex position and then jams her down with a Blue Thunder Driver! Keeping her arms hooked with his legs, he makes the cover...
...1...2...
However, from outside of the ring, Generic Heel reaches in and drags Trenton away from Brietta, stopping the count. Quickly rolling back inside, Generic Heel flings Trenton from the ring and remains inside with Brietta, who tries to stand to her feet.
Allowing her to stand, Generic Heel circles around her and then...
Pokes her in the eyes!
Stepping in, Generic Heel inside-cradles her... the referee counts...
...1...2...
This time, Trenton Pierce slides back in and hammers Generic Heel across the back of his neck, stopping the count. Putting Generic Heel between his legs, Trenton lifts the masked man onto his shoulders and then rumbles forward, heaving him from the ring with a release-powerbomb, throwing him to the floor!
Alone in the ring with Brietta Corrado, this gives Trenton Pierce the opportunity to calm turn around, face his opponent, who is slowly rising and then kick her in the gut. Going back-to-back with her, he soon throws her over his shoulder and drives her down to the canvas with the "UnderOath"!
Hooking a leg, he makes the cover...
...1...2...3!
Slamming his hand on the mat, in victorious fashion, Trenton Pierce rises to his feet and has his hand raised by the referee. Exiting the ring, he walks to the back, while Generic Heel shakes his head, obviously disappointed at the loss.
Standing above Brietta Corrado, Generic Heel slaps her across the face, yells "I'm the best!" to the fans, and then exits to the back, as well.
Winner: Trenton Pierce
Earlier in the day...
The scene opens up within the ice skating rink hosting Eternity, where a number of fans and wrestlers alike teeter precariously on skates, doing more wobbling than skating. The air is frigid, befitting of a winter in Manhattan, and most people are dressed appropriately for the weather, bearing hats, scarves and heavy jackets.
However, spinning gracefully in the centre of all the falling, amateur ice skaters is Morgana, who is wearing a small, sequined pink ice skating leotard, her long hair whipping in the wind with every elaborate twirl she makes. She certainly isn't a figure skater by any stretch of the imagination, but the people around her -- many of whom are falling flat on their faces -- make her look like a professional.
Morgana: Born freeee! As free as the wiiiind blooows! As free as the -- Jesus, watch out!
Skating full speed at Morgana like some sort of blind, retarded kid, is none other than Arran Hayden, who actually is close to being blind, seeing as he only has one eye. He doesn't seem to see Morgana, who is directly in line with Arran's empty eye socket, as it turns out.
Arran Hayden: I'm the king of the --
Unable to stop herself from spinning -- she hasn't quite mastered the picks on her skates yet -- Morgana and Arran Hayden collide, with Arran somehow getting the worst end of the deal. He bowls Morgy over and lands on top of her, and she instinctively draws her legs up -- which ends with Morgy's skates digging into his throat. Almost instantly, an arterial spurt of blood is launched into the air, and Arran collapses over the boards enclosing the rink, holding his newly slashed throat and garbling incoherently through bubbles of blood.
Morgana: Whoops!
Completely unfazed by the imminent death of her one-time rival, Morgy climbs back to her feet and dusts her tutu off, ignoring the blood that now gleams on her skates. After shrugging and readjusting her tutu, she starts to zip around the rink again, nearly crashing into slower skaters, as the scene fades to black.
The arena unexpectedly descends into total darkness, sparking the crowd into an expectant frenzy. After a long moment of anticipation, "Piece of Me (Remix)" by Britney Spears pulses through the sound system, accompanied by an image of Morgana in all of her pink-haired glory, which overtakes the screen.
In due time, Morgana walks out, appearing almost naked without having the World Title wrapped around her waist. Despite the title loss, she receives the same joyous applause from the audience, which builds her up, allowing her to enter the ring and wait for Tony Millennia's entrance.
Up next, "Wolf Like Me" by TV on the Radio plays, thus leading Tony Millennia out from behind the curtain. Walking to the ring, looking partially haggard, Tony holds his briefcase full of money at his side, places it on the ring apron and then slides inside.
When both competitors are ready, the bell rings, and they both step toward each other. Right off the bat, it's the larger competitor, Tony Millennia, who takes advantage, using Morgy's own hair to pull her into the corner, where he manages to belittle her with a barrage of punches and forearms to the gut.
This assault is soon doubled with some whips back-and-forth into opposing turnbuckles, where he eventually tries for a running clothesline into the corner. Luckily for Morgy, her eyes are wide open, enabling her to duck beneath this terrible running attack, resulting in Tony crashing into the turnbuckle pads.
Having things vault in her favor, Morgana uses her speed to try and dizzy Tony, especially after hitting a picture-perfect springboard-into-a-cartwheel elbow. However, after she has a swinging hurricanrana attempt blocked, Tony swings her out, seeing her land on her own two feet.
From here, he throws his right arm at Morgy's pink head, hoping to knock her down with a clothesline. Seeing this, she ducks his arm, spins him around, hits a backflip-dropkick combo and leaves Tony in a dazed state. Springing up, she latches onto his head with a 3/4 facelock and attempts for one of her signature moves, The Fata Morgana!
Alarms trigger in Tony's head, as he stumbles towards the ropes, with Morgana hanging off him, and tosses her over the top, heaving her to the floor, like a sack of doorknobs. Landing with a sickening bang, Morgana slowly rises to her feet, while a delirious Tony Millennia stands in the ring, trying to retain his focus.
Climbing onto the ring apron, she goes to return inside, but Tony sees this happening.
Instantly clenching his fists, he charges at her, striking her with a running knee-shot, keeping her from getting back inside. Now that she is dazed on the apron, he positions both of his hands together and goes to clubbing-axehandle her across the neck. Fortunately for her sake, she's aware of this daunting attack, allowing her to raise her right hand, blocking the blow from striking.
In a change of plan, Tony pulls back, trying to strike with his right hand, but to no avail; as Morgy uses her own two hands to reach up and block the attack. Feeling a surge of energy, Morgy charges along the side of the apron, climbs to the top turnbuckle with relative ease, and then leaps off the top turnbuckle pad, latching onto Tony's shoulders with both of her legs.
A hurricanrana later, she has Tony on his back, resulting in her going for a quick cover.
...1...2...
Tony kicks out at two, keeping the match rolling.
After this, Morgana stands to her feet and walks into the corner, where she climbs up, readying herself for a possible moonsault. When Tony stands, facing her, she flips back off, hoping to take him down; but he steps towards the corner, forcing Morgana to overshoot him.
...Thankfully, she has the sense to land on her feet, push herself up-and-over Tony by launching off his shoulders and then land in front of the corner. Again, she quickly scurries up and corkscrews back, only to hit a twisting Tornado DDT on her way down!
Standing up, Morgana walks into the opposite corner, waiting for Tony Millennia to rise. Thinking about their past history, wanting to show Tony Millennia up, Morgana charges ahead just as Tony rises. Leaping through the air, she extends her legs and strikes with an outstanding John-Woo Kick to Tony's chest, knocking him back into the corner, snapping his head off the top turnbuckle pad!
Collapsing to the canvas, Tony can only lay there, as Morgana rises to the top rope, lining up with Tony. Pushing herself off the top turnbuckle pad, she soars through the air, hitting a perfectly-timed Morgasm! She hooks Tony Millennia's right leg...
...1...2...3!
With ease, the previous World Champion earns a victory, allowing her to stand to her feet, listening to the praise pour in from the fans. Looking intense, she walks into the corner, where she asks for the microphone, ala Chris Carson from earlier, receives it and then steps into the center of the ring.
Brushing her pink hair over her right shoulder, she begins to briefly talk.
Morgana: Chris Carson, I heard your idiotic words. And you're right. This war is far from over. You want one more match, you got it... at the next pay per view. I don't care about the rules or stipulations. I do know that once I put your misogynistic, retarded asshole down for the count, I'm moving back to the World Title and regaining what's mine.
Spitting out words of fury, Morgana drops the microphone and exits the ring, receiving a grand ovation from the fans. On her way back, she slaps the hands of some random fans, soaking up her prior victory and her popularity.
As for Tony Millennia... let's just say he is still glad to have his box of money, as he opens his case and showers himself in money.
Winner: Morgana
The image returns to the backstage area, where Ace Rodgers is shown standing with a microphone in his hand and a scarf around his neck. Despite nearly freezing to death, Ace stands next to the hooded figure known simply as "Generic Heel", about to poke and prod him with questions.
Ace Rodgers: Hello mister.... uh... Mister Heel? Mister Generic? What do you want me to call you?
Standing with his arms folded, looking like serious business, Generic Heel finally speaks.
Generic Heel: You may refer to me as "Generic Heel".
Ace Rodgers: Uh... well, okay then, how abo--...
Generic Heel cuts in.
Generic Heel: And you shall know me as the quickest, baddest and most generic bad motherfucker that has ever entered a Sin Wrestling ring.
Ace Rodgers: Some good that did you earlier, when you lost to Trenton Pierce...
Generic Heel: What did you say?!
An angered Generic Heel grabs Ace Rodgers by the neck, ripping his scarf off.
Ace Rodgers: Ouchies! I need that scarf. It's so cold!
Generic Heel: If you want this scarf back, you most wrestle with me in the most lethal match of all time -- a generic barbed-wire, thumbtack, exploding ring deathmatch!
Ace Rodgers: But I'm not even a wrestler! Now give me that scarf back!
Generic Heel: ...Oh, you're not? Very well then.
Generic Heel gently wraps the scarf around Ace Rodgers's neck.
Generic Heel: There you go. Sorry for that.
Ace Rodgers: Why thank you. You're not so bad, after al--...
Poke! Generic Heel pokes Ace Rodgers in the eye on purpose. Blinded, Ace lets out a loud shriek, while Generic Heel laughs at his expense.
Generic Heel: Ah-ha-ha! Never trust the Generic Heel, for I am one bad mamma-jamma!
Generic Heel walks off, leaving a cursing and blinded Ace Rodgers behind.
"Simple Design" by Breaking Benjamin goes off and Dan Black comes out from the back and then runs into the ring. He climbs each turnbuckle, pointing to the audience and he goes to the center of the ring. He is about to stomp his pyro active, but instead gets an audible thump to the back of the head. Jayson Keller had sneaked into the ring from the crowd, nailing Black with a microphone before the bell even gets a chance to ring!
By the time the bell does ring, Keller is already backing Black into the corner with punches. He switches to kicks, starting to target Black's right leg. Black attempts a comeback, staggering back out of the corner with blind punches. He backs Keller into his own corner, managing to slap his hand around Keller’s neck. Keller targets that leg again with a solid kick, fending off Black's attempt at a chokeslam.
Black charges forward again after he recovers, attempting a boot to the head. Keller avoids the kick, and Black catches his leg against the top turnbuckle. With an opening, Keller goes straight to work on that weakened right leg with quick kicks. Keller manages to get Black down to his knees before he nails Black with a double-footed drop kick.
Keller doesn't allow Black any time to be groggy. Keller slides out of the ring with a cocky smirk, all while the crowd starts to get behind Black with a "Motherfucking Black!" chant. Keller drags Black to a split-legged position, then snaps the big man's injured leg around the ringpost. While Black howls in pain, Keller slips back into the ring to stop any counts, again landing kicks against that injured leg.
Keller's next visit outside the ring is again quick, this time with Keller wrapping Black's legs around the ringpost and strapping him into a figure-four leglock. Black cries out in pain, even while he grips the bottom rope. Keller lets go of the hold before he gets disqualified, then reenters the ring before he gets counted out.
Black clutches at his leg after the hold, but Keller doesn't appear finished. He drags the fallen giant back into the center of the ring and continues to stomp at Black’s leg. Keller finally loses his patience and grabs that injured leg, just about twisting everything below the knee in a solid ankle lock.
Black holds back for only a few seconds before he finally taps out, the bell ringing to give Keller the win. Keller, however, doesn't immediately release the hold, and Black's few fans start to boo. By the time he does release the hold, Black is pounding the canvass in pain.
Keller starts to leave, only to return to the ring with a grin. As a medical team hustles down to the ring, Keller drags Black's injured leg to the ropes and props it over the middle rope. He jumps to the top rope and brings both legs across Black's leg when he comes down, and a sickening pop can be heard. Black writhes in more pain as Keller finally calls off the dogs, strutting backstage with a dominant win.
Black is unable to stand on his own power after the match, his injured leg immobilized. As the doctors and medical staff carts Black to the back, the big man looks to be in both serious pain and disappointment.
Winner: Jayson Keller
Sin Wrestling's former World Champion, Morgana, stands in the backstage area, getting harassed by a familiar face. This person, of course, being Corey Ashton, who seems to be searching for Adora, the girl he has shown an intense liking for.
Corey Ashton: Where is she? Is she in there?
He refers to Morgana's very own locker-room.
Corey Ashton: Is she? She must be. Let me see her.
Morgana rolls her eyes, as if tired of listening to these constant questions.
Morgana: She's home! As in, not here! Home! Now leave me alone!
Morgana enters her own locker-room, smashing the door in Corey Ashton's face.
Corey Ashton: What an angry old bag.
WHAM!
From behind Corey Ashton, Destiny Daniels strikes with a high-kick to the back of his knees, knocking him to the floor. Overhearing the clump, Morgana opens up, checking to see what's going on.
Morgana: Now what the hell? Oh, it's you--...
Morgana eyes Destiny Daniels, someone whom she has had problems with in the past.
Destiny Daniels: Just getting a bit of revenge, that's all.
Morgana: Eh, good enough by me.
Morgana gives Destiny a respectful thumbs-up, while Destiny smirks and nods. Tension seems to have cooled down between the two... and, well, Corey Ashton lays in between them, groaning about his sore head.
The image fades out, last showing Corey Ashton questioning what just happened, as both Morgy and Destiny exit the scene.
The arena goes dark as the words blaze across the viewscreen.
"I Get It" by Chevelle explodes over the arena sound system as a huge pyrotechnic display goes off on the center stage. Declan Turner walks out from the back, wearing his wrestling gear and long black leather coat. Ignoring the crowd, he leaps into the ring and sheds the coat, waiting for the bell to ring.
A giant, blood dripping globe with a swastika carved into it appears. Chris Extreme's voice is heard shouting viciously in the background.
DIE WHORES!
DIE FAGGOTS!
DIE NIGGERS!
DIE SPICS!
DIE CHINKS!
DIE MUSLIMS!
DIE JEWS!
DIE JESUS!
DIE GOD!
DIE MOTHER EARTH!
DIE HUMANITY DIE!
The heavy metal tune of "Sonne" by Rammstein blasts over the speakers. Chris Extreme marches out, swastika scarred on his naked chest, and geared up in white boxers and white socks, complete with his Nazi Title wrapped firmly around his waist. Once inside, he unstraps his Nazi Title, turns around and looks intently at Declan Turner.
The bell rings...
...And Chris continues to stare... and stare... and stare some more. Like some creepy, retarded kid, Chris Extreme continues to stare down Declan, who smugly laughs at Chris Extreme's attempts at intimidation.
All of a sudden, Chris Extreme breaks his silence and charges across the ring, headed directly at Declan Turner, who side-steps an attack from Chris, whose forearm smashes into the top turnbuckle pad. Swinging around, Chris again tries to fleece Declan, but Declan ducks the attack and instead hammers Chris with a back-elbow.
Having Chris in a slight daze, Declan strikes the new World Champ with a kneelift, butting him in the nose with the top of his knee. Furthermore, Declan snap-mares Chris, bounces off the ropes and returns with a seated-dropkick to the back of Chris Extreme's neck. Getting right back up, Declan lifts Chris Extreme to his feet, only to repeatedly chop him across the chest, knocking him against the turnbuckle pads.
In here, Declan uses the middle rope to propel himself into the air, striking Chris with some more high-rising knees. Pulling Extreme into the center of the ring, Declan positions him into a standing headscissors, about to lift him up for a piledriver or a powerbomb. However, before he can get anywhere, Chris Extreme begins to continously bash his skull against Declan's crotch, gaining his freedom.
Now that he has Declan stumbling backward, Chris Extreme traces behind him, using his fingernails to scrape into his skin. As Chris's nails slip down Declan's back, Declan lets out a slighty yelp, only to have Chris spin him around and punch him in the jaw.
Continuing to ambush Declan with some more attacks, Chris begins rapidly headbutting his opponent, literally bringing him down to one knee. Feeling hungry, Chris even bends over and starts biting Declan's left cheek, trying to rip his flesh off. With no other choice, Declan reaches up and gouges Chris Extreme in the eyes, releasing him from the grasp of the bite.
Declan, who surprisingly hasn't turned into a Nazi, zombie or a zombie Nazi, walks up to Chris and quickly strikes with a rising uppercut, which nearly lobs off Chris Extreme's head, which snaps back. In fact, Declan even wipes some blood off his cheek and follows that up by applying a sleeperhold onto Chris Extreme!
Moving in, the referee checks Chris, seeing if he'll quit or not.
Before any response can be said, though, Declan lifts Chris back and sends him flying backward with a sleeperhold-suplex, driving his skull into the canvas!
With the best idea in mind, Declan covers Chris, looking for a quick three-count...
...1...2...
The World Champion kicks out with furor at the count of two!
Not liking this, Declan pops right back up, sitting Chris Extreme up in front of him. From here, he unloads with some more football-kicks, only to then apply a full-nelson... with his legs! This awkward submission allows Declan to wrap both legs around his arms and apply pressure on the back of the World Champ's neck.
Even moreso, this position allows for Declan to furiously strike Chris with his foot/leg/heel, bashing him across the back of the neck, wearing Chris down even further. As normal, the referee moves in, continuing to check on Chris Extreme, who still does not submit.
Chris soon takes matters in his own hand, though, as he is able to roll around, resulting in Declan on his back, while Chris jackknife-rolls onto him...
The referee counts...
...1...2...
Aware of his predicament, Declan releases his hold on Chris Extreme, allowing for both men to get back up to their feet.
Stepping into each other, they both begin attacking each other. Chris Extreme with a punch; as does Declan. Chris goes for another punch, but Declan strikes with another uppercut. Chris goes for a third punch, but Declan blocks his arm and instead goes for a flying-armbar, which he rolls into a kimura!
Feeling the pain and agony, Chris reaches towards the ropes, looking for the escape, inching closer and closer, until he finally grabs on. Seeing this, the referee forces Declan to release his grip on Chris Extreme's arm, but Declan pushes it close to a disqualification.
Nevertheless, after some griping from the referee, Declan releases his hold, while Chris Extreme hunches over against the ropes. Pushing the referee away, Declan goes back to Chris... only for the World Champion cheapshot Declan with a lowblow!
Taking Declan into the center of the ring, Chris Extreme shows why he is the World Champion, as he quickly thinks and pulls Declan into a standing headscissors position. Soon enough, Chris Extreme hits a stump-piledriver on Declan, driving his squarely into the canvas!
He makes a cover...
...1...2...
However, before the three can be made, Chris yanks Declan off the mat, purposely stopping the count. Much to the disdain of everyone, a wickedly grinning Chris Extreme rolls to the outside, walks to the ring announcer's desk and plucks his title away from the table. Wrapping the Nazi World Title around his waist, Chris Extreme cockily re-enters the ring, noting that Declan is still knocked unconscious.
Standing above Declan, boxers, Nazi Title and all, Chris Extreme motions that he is going to urinate on Declan.
Chris goes to pull out his filthy Nazi cock, but Declan springs to life, strikes with a martial-arts kick to Chris's rear-end and causes Chris to stumble backward, fumbling his cock back into his boxers.
Jumping to his feet, Declan charges at Chris and hits him with a Busaiku Kick! After this, both men charge up to their feet, only for Declan to hit the Southern Cross! Absolutely stunned, Chris Extreme hunches over... and is then given Declan Turner's "Blood Money"!
Declan makes the cover...
...1...2...3!
Pulling off the upset non-title victory on the current World Champ, Declan Turner rolls out of the ring to celebrate with the fans. Most likely pushed up to number one contender's status, Declan celebrates with the audience, while a groggy Chris Extreme rises to his feet, throwing a fit.
The final shot of the evening is that of Chris Extreme exiting the ring, grabbing his Nazi World Title and pointing at Declan Turner, threatening him with some harsh words, which no doubt include the terms "cut", "foreskin" and "sodomize".
Fade out to a picture of Declan Turner being congratulated by the fans.
Winner: Declan Turner