Post by Jman2k3 on Nov 21, 2017 5:22:39 GMT
Looking in the mirror at himself, Eric Lee stands inside of a restroom, washing water onto his face. Beside him and on the counter, the Extreme Championship sits. Other than Eric, no one else is inside of the restroom, not even an official… other than the cameraman filming of course.
JOHNSON: ”So far tonight, Eric has managed to not only capture the Extreme Championship, but also fend off two waves of attacks.”
VASSA: ”Barrows just couldn’t catch a break. I want to know who these masked people are though! What are they doing here?!”
JOHNSON: ”It seems like where ever the Extreme Championship is they are more than likely not far away.”
VASSA: ”But what’s their purpose? I wouldn’t be surprised if Perry hired these people as an extra obstacle to throw in everyone’s path tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”It wouldn’t be a bad move if he did.”
VASSA: ”Who are we kidding?! Perry isn’t that smart!”
TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!
The restroom door swings open as an unidentified body crashes through it. Slamming into the stall ahead, the body comes to a stop, but not long before Eric goes on the rampage with the Extreme Championship.
THWACK!!! THWACK!!!
With two shots to the back of the head with the championship, Eric puts down the body, leaving it unconscious in the floor. With his foot, Eric pushes the person over to their back, revealing their face, unknown to all those watching unless you happen to personally know the man. Scratching his head, Eric stares down at the body for a moment before tightly gripping onto the championship and turning for the door. Grabbing the handle, he pulls the door back and just as he steps through and into the hall…
CCCRRRUUUNNNCCCHHH!!!
Stopping him in his tracks, a chair wraps perfectly around his head as it crashes against his skull. The belt falls to the floor and seconds after, Eric drops to his knees, still with the chair wrapped around his head. Stepping into the picture, Scott Stevens looks down with a devilish grin from ear to ear. Kicking his foot up from the floor, he extends his leg and plants it into Eric’s chest, knocking him back and sending him to the floor. As Eric’s back hits the floor, so does his head and the chair is knocked off upon impact, revealing a crimson mask over Eric’s face.
STEVENS: “Have yoouuuuu heard about…”
Slamming his fist into the palm of his other hands, Stevens drops down to one knee.
STEVENS: “Scott Stevens.”
Crawling over Eric, Stevens makes the pin on his lifeless body as the official who happened to be waiting in the hall as Eric was in the restroom makes the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Scott Stevens strikes again!”
JOHNSON: ”This time he wasn’t hiding in the trashcan singing Captain Planet either!”
VASSA: ”I love that song. I miss those days.”
Grabbing the Extreme Championship, Stevens rises to his feet. Nodding at the official, he then steps through the doorway and back into the hall, looking to both his left and right first before leaving the scene.
Cutting to the catering area, Scott Stevens is seen by the buffet of food. The Extreme Championship is draped over his shoulder and in one hand, he holds a plate. Picking through the assortment of food, he fills his plate, leaving his back exposed and no one but the official standing by.
VASSA: ”Look at this cocky son of a bitch.”
JOHNSON: ”With all of the madness that has happened thus far and the night still being young, Scott has a lot of nerve taking a break to get a quick snack.”
VASSA: ”It is what it is I suppose. A man’s gotta eat.”
JOHNSON: ”You know from experience.”
VASSA: ”What is that supposed to mean, you rude fu–“
JOHNSON: ”Quiet down! We have action!”
Sneaking into the lobby area, one of the familiar masked men we’ve seen throughout the night tiptoes towards the catering table. Sneaking in behind Stevens, the person gets closer and closer, unnoticed until finally they give their position away. A plastic fork on the floor is snapped in half as the person steps onto it. The sound of the plastic breaking catches Stevens’ attention as he drops his plate of food to the table and whips around, ripping the belt from his shoulder.
STEVENS: “Got ya!”
Clutching the championship tightly in his hand, Stevens punches his arm forward, cracking the championship across the person’s jaw. He then tosses the belt aside before grabbing the individual and lifting them into the air. Turning around in place, Stevens then takes a step forward before slamming the person down onto the food, breaking the table in half as the two fall through it and to the floor. Food flies into the air, spilling out onto the floor and leaving nothing but a complete mess. Mounting himself on top of the man, Stevens then begins punching rapidly with his right hand, over and over onto the mans face.
VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!! NOT THE FOOD!!!”
JOHNSON: ”It happens every single time.”
VASSA: ”We can’t have any fucking thing nice around here. What’s next? Is Cashe going to come into the room and shit all over the place!?”
As Stevens continues to punch the person into oblivion, two more masked people rush into the picture. Grabbing Stevens from behind, they pull him away from their fallen comrade and drag him away from the broken table and food assortment spread across the floor. The two men hold Stevens in place while a third comes out of nowhere with a chain wrapped around their hand and the rest hanging to where it just barely drags along the floor. Walking behind the trio, the person stands behind Stevens and then grabs the other end of the chain. Reaching Over Stevens’ head, the person wraps it around his throat and begins choking him with it. The three masked people then drag Stevens to the other end of the catering area where another table stands, covered in more food.
VASSA: ”No, no, no, no!”
One of the masked people let go of Stevens and then run to the table, clearing off all of the food with their arm. The other two then pulls Stevens onto the table. Standing at the end of the table, the person with the chain keeps it wrapped around his neck while the other two grab an arm and hold it out to Stevens’ sides, keeping him secured to the table.
JOHNSON: ”It looks like you’re eating take out after the show, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”FUCK YOU!!!”
The camera then looks above the table where another unknown individual carefully walks along the ledge of the upper floors barriers to a loft. Standing directly over Stevens, the person lines themselves up before jumping out and pushing themselves away from the barrier. Doing a backflip in mid-air, the person comes down with speed before executing a moonsault double foot stomp onto Steven’s forcing the big man’s body to break through the table upon impact.
CCCRRRAAASSSHHH!!!
Hopping off of Stevens, the person then removes their mask, revealing them to be no one other than Johnny Evil.
JOHNSON: ”So Evil is the one behind these masked lunatics!”
VASSA: ”I told you Perry wasn’t smart enough to do it himself!”
Looking down at Stevens, Evil laughs to himself before speaking.
EVIL: ”You didn’t count me out, did you?”
Dropping to his knees, Evil then makes the cover as another masked man drags the official over and throws him to the floor beside them for the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Evil takes the Extreme Championship!”
JOHNSON: ”He did, but he didn’t do it alone.”
VASSA: ”I don’t remember there being any rules saying that he couldn’t bring others to the party.”
JOHNSON: ”They’ve been causing problems throughout the entire night.”
Grabbing the championship, Evil then stands to his feet before looking to the others and nodding. One masked person grabs the official and drags him along. Evil then leads the pack, leaving the area as the others follow behind, leaving Stevens in a mess of food and broken table.
With the Extreme Championship over one shoulder and his hockey stick covered in barbed wire over the other, Scottywood walks the halls of the T-Mobile Arena where the fans have access to. Following behind him, the camera watches his every move. The fans in the area watch closely as well, while also keeping a safe distance because even they know anything is bound to happen.
VASSA: ”He’s got some balls on him.”
JOHNSON: ”Scottywood has come into 4CW and done exactly what he said he was going to do. Why hide? He’s out in the open wishing someone would attack him.”
VASSA: ”Careful what you wish for because you just might get it.”
With that, the group of masked people charge onto the scene, led by Johnny Evil. Pushing fans out of the way, the pack force their way through the crowd with Scottywood in their sights. Hearing the commotion, Scottywood slowly turns around and the sight brings a smile to his face. Shrugging the belt from his shoulder, he lets it drop to the floor as he grips both hands tightly around his barbed wire covered hockey stick. Bracing himself for a fight, Scottywood is then clipped from the side as one last masked person charges onto the scene unnoticed. Falling to the floor, the stick slips from his hands and slides feet away. The pack then closes in, circling Scottywood. Leading the charge, Evil begins kicking and stomping on Scottywood as the others follow his lead.
EVIL: ”Hold this mother fucker down! Let’s end this once and for all!”
The masked people then begin to grab onto Scottywood. Locking onto his arms and legs, the group of masked people leave him with nowhere to go as he looks up at Evil on his back. Looking down at Scottywood, Evil smirks before placing his foot across Scottywood’s chest. The Hardcore Artist tries to break free but can’t as he’s overtaken. With his shoulders pinned to the floor, the official has no choice but to count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Evil has won it ag–“
JOHNSON: ”WOAH!!!”
CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!
With a sledgehammer in hand, Scott Stevens bursts through the bodies with masks and cracks Evil in the back of the head! Lights out, Evil’s eyes close as he instantly drops to the floor. Everyone then turns their attention to Stevens as the masked people pop back to their feet. Hitting anything that he can, Stevens swings and jabs the sledgehammer at the masked people, backing them away from Scottywood. Rolling over to his stomach, Scottywood looks up and sees his hockey stick within arms reach. Grabbing onto it, Scottywood then stands tall and begins swinging at the masked people as well. Outnumbered two to twelve, Scottywood and Stevens don’t back down as they fight for their lives.
Charging onto the scene, Matthias Barrows rushes in with Black Betty in hand and joins in the attack, hitting the first masked person he lays eyes one. Then comes in Dexter Severin with a chair, followed by Eric Lee with a light tube, and Viduus Morta, covered in blood, with a torch in hand. Together, the six stand united and fight against the pack of masked people. After a few moments of fighting, the fight begins to make its way down the halls, leaving the scene and the holder of the Extreme Championship, Johnny Evil, behind. Bursting through the glass at the main entrance, the fight exits the building as a swarm of fans circle the action, snapping photos with their phones in hand.
JOHNSON: ”This entire Roulette has destroyed numerous areas of the T-Mobile Arena tonight. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to come back after this.”
VASSA: ”Perry will pay for the damages. He doesn’t have a choice. And with enough money, we’ll easily be back here next year for Ante Up!”
JOHNSON: ”Hold on a second! What’s this?!”
With the fight now outside and nowhere else to be found to aid Johnny Evil as he lays on the floor unconscious, Carmella Wilder finally makes her grand appearance!
VASSA: ”It’s Carmella!”
JOHNSON: ”I’ll be damned! She wasn’t bluffing!”
Scanning the area and searching for possible attackers, Carmella seems safe as she walks over to Evil and quickly makes the cover. Everyone else interested in the Roulette is nowhere to be found and the only two still around is the cameraman and the official on call. As best as she can, Carmella hooks Evil’s leg as the official quickly makes the count beside them.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”CARMELLA HAS CAPTURED THE BELT!!!”
JOHNSON: ”This is unbelievable! While everyone else is fighting outside, she’s swooped in and taken advantage of Evil being laid out with no one around to prevent her from pinning him.”
Shortly after, the speakers throughout the entire arena come to life.
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!
VASSA: ”What’s that noise?!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s it!”
VASSA: ”What do you mean that’s it?!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s the official bell to end the Extreme Roulette! Our main event is just about to start!”
VASSA: ”No fucking way…”
JOHNSON: ”Way.”
Mike Powers voices then blares throughout the arena as Carmella looks up, checking over her shoulders for any attackers.
POWERS: ”The Extreme Roulette is officially over and your winner, and NEW 4CW EXTREME CHAMPION… CARMELLA WWIILLDDEERR!!!”
Bursting up to her feet, Carmella jumps up and down in excitement as a crowd begins to form around her of fans celebrating her victory. Stepping in beside her, the official hands her the Extreme Championship. Holding it with both hands, she then raises it high above her head, overflowing with joy as everyone in the vicinity cheers her on.
VASSA: ”Wow. I can’t believe that just happened.”
JOHNSON: ”Believe it Vinny.”
VASSA: ”But how? How was she able to be the last one in possession of the championship with everyone else who was involved?”
JOHNSON: ”She waited for the right moment to make her move and it worked. I’d love to sit here and discuss with you but with the end of this, comes out main event. This Roulette was set to end just before the main event so with that, let’s get the camera back here at ringside!”
VASSA: ”Oh my god I hope she does Playboy with that belt!”
JOHNSON: ”So far tonight, Eric has managed to not only capture the Extreme Championship, but also fend off two waves of attacks.”
VASSA: ”Barrows just couldn’t catch a break. I want to know who these masked people are though! What are they doing here?!”
JOHNSON: ”It seems like where ever the Extreme Championship is they are more than likely not far away.”
VASSA: ”But what’s their purpose? I wouldn’t be surprised if Perry hired these people as an extra obstacle to throw in everyone’s path tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”It wouldn’t be a bad move if he did.”
VASSA: ”Who are we kidding?! Perry isn’t that smart!”
TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!
The restroom door swings open as an unidentified body crashes through it. Slamming into the stall ahead, the body comes to a stop, but not long before Eric goes on the rampage with the Extreme Championship.
THWACK!!! THWACK!!!
With two shots to the back of the head with the championship, Eric puts down the body, leaving it unconscious in the floor. With his foot, Eric pushes the person over to their back, revealing their face, unknown to all those watching unless you happen to personally know the man. Scratching his head, Eric stares down at the body for a moment before tightly gripping onto the championship and turning for the door. Grabbing the handle, he pulls the door back and just as he steps through and into the hall…
CCCRRRUUUNNNCCCHHH!!!
Stopping him in his tracks, a chair wraps perfectly around his head as it crashes against his skull. The belt falls to the floor and seconds after, Eric drops to his knees, still with the chair wrapped around his head. Stepping into the picture, Scott Stevens looks down with a devilish grin from ear to ear. Kicking his foot up from the floor, he extends his leg and plants it into Eric’s chest, knocking him back and sending him to the floor. As Eric’s back hits the floor, so does his head and the chair is knocked off upon impact, revealing a crimson mask over Eric’s face.
STEVENS: “Have yoouuuuu heard about…”
Slamming his fist into the palm of his other hands, Stevens drops down to one knee.
STEVENS: “Scott Stevens.”
Crawling over Eric, Stevens makes the pin on his lifeless body as the official who happened to be waiting in the hall as Eric was in the restroom makes the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Scott Stevens strikes again!”
JOHNSON: ”This time he wasn’t hiding in the trashcan singing Captain Planet either!”
VASSA: ”I love that song. I miss those days.”
Grabbing the Extreme Championship, Stevens rises to his feet. Nodding at the official, he then steps through the doorway and back into the hall, looking to both his left and right first before leaving the scene.
Cutting to the catering area, Scott Stevens is seen by the buffet of food. The Extreme Championship is draped over his shoulder and in one hand, he holds a plate. Picking through the assortment of food, he fills his plate, leaving his back exposed and no one but the official standing by.
VASSA: ”Look at this cocky son of a bitch.”
JOHNSON: ”With all of the madness that has happened thus far and the night still being young, Scott has a lot of nerve taking a break to get a quick snack.”
VASSA: ”It is what it is I suppose. A man’s gotta eat.”
JOHNSON: ”You know from experience.”
VASSA: ”What is that supposed to mean, you rude fu–“
JOHNSON: ”Quiet down! We have action!”
Sneaking into the lobby area, one of the familiar masked men we’ve seen throughout the night tiptoes towards the catering table. Sneaking in behind Stevens, the person gets closer and closer, unnoticed until finally they give their position away. A plastic fork on the floor is snapped in half as the person steps onto it. The sound of the plastic breaking catches Stevens’ attention as he drops his plate of food to the table and whips around, ripping the belt from his shoulder.
STEVENS: “Got ya!”
Clutching the championship tightly in his hand, Stevens punches his arm forward, cracking the championship across the person’s jaw. He then tosses the belt aside before grabbing the individual and lifting them into the air. Turning around in place, Stevens then takes a step forward before slamming the person down onto the food, breaking the table in half as the two fall through it and to the floor. Food flies into the air, spilling out onto the floor and leaving nothing but a complete mess. Mounting himself on top of the man, Stevens then begins punching rapidly with his right hand, over and over onto the mans face.
VASSA: ”NNNOOOOOO!!! NOT THE FOOD!!!”
JOHNSON: ”It happens every single time.”
VASSA: ”We can’t have any fucking thing nice around here. What’s next? Is Cashe going to come into the room and shit all over the place!?”
As Stevens continues to punch the person into oblivion, two more masked people rush into the picture. Grabbing Stevens from behind, they pull him away from their fallen comrade and drag him away from the broken table and food assortment spread across the floor. The two men hold Stevens in place while a third comes out of nowhere with a chain wrapped around their hand and the rest hanging to where it just barely drags along the floor. Walking behind the trio, the person stands behind Stevens and then grabs the other end of the chain. Reaching Over Stevens’ head, the person wraps it around his throat and begins choking him with it. The three masked people then drag Stevens to the other end of the catering area where another table stands, covered in more food.
VASSA: ”No, no, no, no!”
One of the masked people let go of Stevens and then run to the table, clearing off all of the food with their arm. The other two then pulls Stevens onto the table. Standing at the end of the table, the person with the chain keeps it wrapped around his neck while the other two grab an arm and hold it out to Stevens’ sides, keeping him secured to the table.
JOHNSON: ”It looks like you’re eating take out after the show, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”FUCK YOU!!!”
The camera then looks above the table where another unknown individual carefully walks along the ledge of the upper floors barriers to a loft. Standing directly over Stevens, the person lines themselves up before jumping out and pushing themselves away from the barrier. Doing a backflip in mid-air, the person comes down with speed before executing a moonsault double foot stomp onto Steven’s forcing the big man’s body to break through the table upon impact.
CCCRRRAAASSSHHH!!!
Hopping off of Stevens, the person then removes their mask, revealing them to be no one other than Johnny Evil.
JOHNSON: ”So Evil is the one behind these masked lunatics!”
VASSA: ”I told you Perry wasn’t smart enough to do it himself!”
Looking down at Stevens, Evil laughs to himself before speaking.
EVIL: ”You didn’t count me out, did you?”
Dropping to his knees, Evil then makes the cover as another masked man drags the official over and throws him to the floor beside them for the count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Evil takes the Extreme Championship!”
JOHNSON: ”He did, but he didn’t do it alone.”
VASSA: ”I don’t remember there being any rules saying that he couldn’t bring others to the party.”
JOHNSON: ”They’ve been causing problems throughout the entire night.”
Grabbing the championship, Evil then stands to his feet before looking to the others and nodding. One masked person grabs the official and drags him along. Evil then leads the pack, leaving the area as the others follow behind, leaving Stevens in a mess of food and broken table.
With the Extreme Championship over one shoulder and his hockey stick covered in barbed wire over the other, Scottywood walks the halls of the T-Mobile Arena where the fans have access to. Following behind him, the camera watches his every move. The fans in the area watch closely as well, while also keeping a safe distance because even they know anything is bound to happen.
VASSA: ”He’s got some balls on him.”
JOHNSON: ”Scottywood has come into 4CW and done exactly what he said he was going to do. Why hide? He’s out in the open wishing someone would attack him.”
VASSA: ”Careful what you wish for because you just might get it.”
With that, the group of masked people charge onto the scene, led by Johnny Evil. Pushing fans out of the way, the pack force their way through the crowd with Scottywood in their sights. Hearing the commotion, Scottywood slowly turns around and the sight brings a smile to his face. Shrugging the belt from his shoulder, he lets it drop to the floor as he grips both hands tightly around his barbed wire covered hockey stick. Bracing himself for a fight, Scottywood is then clipped from the side as one last masked person charges onto the scene unnoticed. Falling to the floor, the stick slips from his hands and slides feet away. The pack then closes in, circling Scottywood. Leading the charge, Evil begins kicking and stomping on Scottywood as the others follow his lead.
EVIL: ”Hold this mother fucker down! Let’s end this once and for all!”
The masked people then begin to grab onto Scottywood. Locking onto his arms and legs, the group of masked people leave him with nowhere to go as he looks up at Evil on his back. Looking down at Scottywood, Evil smirks before placing his foot across Scottywood’s chest. The Hardcore Artist tries to break free but can’t as he’s overtaken. With his shoulders pinned to the floor, the official has no choice but to count.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”Evil has won it ag–“
JOHNSON: ”WOAH!!!”
CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!
With a sledgehammer in hand, Scott Stevens bursts through the bodies with masks and cracks Evil in the back of the head! Lights out, Evil’s eyes close as he instantly drops to the floor. Everyone then turns their attention to Stevens as the masked people pop back to their feet. Hitting anything that he can, Stevens swings and jabs the sledgehammer at the masked people, backing them away from Scottywood. Rolling over to his stomach, Scottywood looks up and sees his hockey stick within arms reach. Grabbing onto it, Scottywood then stands tall and begins swinging at the masked people as well. Outnumbered two to twelve, Scottywood and Stevens don’t back down as they fight for their lives.
Charging onto the scene, Matthias Barrows rushes in with Black Betty in hand and joins in the attack, hitting the first masked person he lays eyes one. Then comes in Dexter Severin with a chair, followed by Eric Lee with a light tube, and Viduus Morta, covered in blood, with a torch in hand. Together, the six stand united and fight against the pack of masked people. After a few moments of fighting, the fight begins to make its way down the halls, leaving the scene and the holder of the Extreme Championship, Johnny Evil, behind. Bursting through the glass at the main entrance, the fight exits the building as a swarm of fans circle the action, snapping photos with their phones in hand.
JOHNSON: ”This entire Roulette has destroyed numerous areas of the T-Mobile Arena tonight. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to come back after this.”
VASSA: ”Perry will pay for the damages. He doesn’t have a choice. And with enough money, we’ll easily be back here next year for Ante Up!”
JOHNSON: ”Hold on a second! What’s this?!”
With the fight now outside and nowhere else to be found to aid Johnny Evil as he lays on the floor unconscious, Carmella Wilder finally makes her grand appearance!
VASSA: ”It’s Carmella!”
JOHNSON: ”I’ll be damned! She wasn’t bluffing!”
Scanning the area and searching for possible attackers, Carmella seems safe as she walks over to Evil and quickly makes the cover. Everyone else interested in the Roulette is nowhere to be found and the only two still around is the cameraman and the official on call. As best as she can, Carmella hooks Evil’s leg as the official quickly makes the count beside them.
ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!
VASSA: ”CARMELLA HAS CAPTURED THE BELT!!!”
JOHNSON: ”This is unbelievable! While everyone else is fighting outside, she’s swooped in and taken advantage of Evil being laid out with no one around to prevent her from pinning him.”
Shortly after, the speakers throughout the entire arena come to life.
DING!!! DING!!! DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!
VASSA: ”What’s that noise?!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s it!”
VASSA: ”What do you mean that’s it?!”
JOHNSON: ”That’s the official bell to end the Extreme Roulette! Our main event is just about to start!”
VASSA: ”No fucking way…”
JOHNSON: ”Way.”
Mike Powers voices then blares throughout the arena as Carmella looks up, checking over her shoulders for any attackers.
POWERS: ”The Extreme Roulette is officially over and your winner, and NEW 4CW EXTREME CHAMPION… CARMELLA WWIILLDDEERR!!!”
Bursting up to her feet, Carmella jumps up and down in excitement as a crowd begins to form around her of fans celebrating her victory. Stepping in beside her, the official hands her the Extreme Championship. Holding it with both hands, she then raises it high above her head, overflowing with joy as everyone in the vicinity cheers her on.
VASSA: ”Wow. I can’t believe that just happened.”
JOHNSON: ”Believe it Vinny.”
VASSA: ”But how? How was she able to be the last one in possession of the championship with everyone else who was involved?”
JOHNSON: ”She waited for the right moment to make her move and it worked. I’d love to sit here and discuss with you but with the end of this, comes out main event. This Roulette was set to end just before the main event so with that, let’s get the camera back here at ringside!”
VASSA: ”Oh my god I hope she does Playboy with that belt!”