One Last Time
Before Ryan could continue what he was saying, “Kill Fuck Die” by W.A.S.P. began blaring throughout the arena. Some fans cheered in anticipation for what was sure to be the arrival of one of their favorites. Those who remained silent hadn’t a clue as to what was happening.

“Well, I didn’t enjoy being interrupted to such a degree. But that music can only mean one thing, Bill!” Ryan said with enthusiasm. Bill only let out a guttural grunt of disapproval.

Surely enough, the SHOWorld Champion pushed his way through the black curtains of the entry stage. The SHOWorld Championship was around his waist. However, upon entering the top of the stage, he took off the belt and placed it over his shoulder. He was pure business tonight. He didn’t pay any attention to the fans cheering him on. His eyes were locked on the squared circle. He walked towards the ring with such confidence, it borderlined the cockiness that was his forte some eight years ago.

Uncensored entered the ring, still strictly business and as confident as ever. He walked towards the ring announcer, who was prepared to announce the combatants of what was scheduled to be the opening bout. Uncensored took the microphone out from the announcer’s hand and told him to get out of the ring, minus an expletive or two, probably.

Uncensored brought the microphone to his lips. “So, this is it, huh?” Uncensored said following a scoff. “I’ve heard that many, many different times about SHOWrestling. Just after Escape in 2002, we held an episode of Static. We were all gathered around in the locker room. Deacon Tern told us that this was it. SHOWrestling wouldn’t see another day.”

He paused for a moment. “Six months later, I was told to come back and be a part of ‘The Final SHOW.’ We all were, once again, told that that was the end. SHOWrestling wouldn’t see another day.”

Again with the pausing. “June of 2004, while I was preparing to come back to the ring, I was told over the phone that I needed to stop. Resurrection wasn’t going to happen. SHOWrestling wouldn’t see another day.”

This time, he paused to glare into his championship. “For most of you, this is the first day SHOWrestling has seen since April 15^th of this year. At which point, I was once again told, only this time they changed it up a bit. Morpheus told me, ‘More than likely, SHOWrestling will not see another day.’”

He looked down and paused yet again. “Now they’re saying it to me once more. After tonight, SHOWrestling is dead. It’s finished. It dies. And if that’s the case…”

Only a brief pause this time. “THEN SO FUCKING BE IT!” He shouted, erupting himself, loosening up. “If this is it, it’s time to go out with the biggest bang I can think of. Nik VanCore. The last time we fought, I beat you to win this belt. At the time, we both agreed that we would NEVER step foot in the ring to face each other, EVER AGAIN. So, I got to thinking, if we can never ‘wrestle’ each other again, and if I want to give these people one last thing to remember me by… as much as I FUCKING HATE to admit it, you bring out the best in me. And I know the feeling is mutual. Nik. ONE LAST FUCKING TIME, we’re going to beat the shit out of each other. But it’s not going to take place in any wrestling ring.”

“Oh no.” Ryan said quickly as Uncensored paused briefly one more.

“Cue up the lights, dumb asses!” Uncensored called out after facing the entryway. The lights to the (camera) right of the entrance stage shone brightly there was a massive figure cloaked in black surroundings. “Show these people what’s behind curtain number one!”

The sheets that covered up the structure were lowered. It was revealed.

“That’s right, Nik!” Uncensored declared. “This fucking thing hasn’t been seen since February of 2004. Anyone who knows anything about it understands the destruction it can cause. They know the bodily fucking damage it will do to anyone who steps one goddamn toe inside of it. The company that used that fucking thing went under because of how dangerous and brutal it is.”

Some were still not entirely aware of what they were looking at, exactly.

“The Zone,” Uncensored said. “The Fight Zone, a company that will forever haunt me. Whenever I was scheduled to fight, not wrestle, mind you, for TFZ, I’d have to do it inside The Zone. SHOWrestling purchased the rights to TFZ in 2004. I faced William Arthur Reagan inside of it the very night that you won this belt for your first time, Nik. I know you were watching. I know that you know what this fucking thing is capable of.”

Uncensored was breathing heavily. He hadn’t a chance to fully catch his breath. “That is why I personally put up the cash to bring The Zone here tonight. Nik, I know you’re back there. So, if this is it, if this is when SHOWrestling dies, it’s time for you and I to put it all on the table. If we die, SHOWrestling dies and vice versa. Without us, there is no SHOWrestling and vice versa, Nik. Now, let’s do this. I know your pussy ass is back there, now get out here and give me a fucking answer!”

The fans were cheering every syllable that exited from Uncensored’s mouth. They and he watched on to wait a response.

Sooner rather than later, Nik VanCore, the self-proclaimed God King himself entered the arena. Behind him was Stevie K., Dagan, and Chyler Lockhart, all four of whom make up Team No Respect.

Nik VanCore had a microphone. He lifted it to his mouth and simply said, “Yes.”

Separated by some 100 yards, Uncensored and Nik VanCore locked eyes for a few moments. Their eyes were filled with every bit of anger, hatred, and repulsion that they shared with one another. Nik VanCore looked to his left and examined the steel structure for a moment before turning around and walking back through the curtains.

“Anthem of the Year 2000” by Silverchair began playing throughout the arena. The three remaining members of TNR began making their way to the ring while Uncensored started his exit. The four of them crossed paths half-way up the aisle. Uncensored and Stevie K. took a moment to stare one another down before Dagan and Chyler let the SHOWorld Champion pass through.

“I… I guess we’re going to kick off our opening match.” Ryan declared.

Modern Day Missionaries vs. Team No Respect

Stevie K. entered the ring first. He had a look of absolute disgust on his face. He didn’t do any posing. Much like Uncensored was just a few short minutes earlier, he too was strictly business. Dagan followed shortly behind him. He was much more relaxed than his partner. Chyler Lockhart remained on the outside.

“Anthem of the Year” was stopped abruptly.

In its place, “I Can Only Love Ya Till Ya Drop” the mix of two songs by MercyMe and 4SUM began playing. Brian Douglas and “Ziggy” Wagge D. entered the arena. Ziggy was doing some sort of dancing that he and he alone thought was cool. Brian seemed a bit confused about everything.

Either way, they headed towards the ring, Ziggy doing his dancing and clapping, Douglas keeping his cool. Ziggy strutted up the four steel steps Brian followed him closely behind. Ziggy continued to dance when he reached the center of the squared circle, while Brian simply threw up his arm and waved to the crowd.

The camera took its focus off of the Modern Day Missionaries and cut to TNR’s corner.

“I’m starting this damn match!” Stevie barked at Dagan. Dagan didn’t know what to think at that point. He figured he might as well take Stevie’s wishes as orders and stepped onto the ring’s apron.

At that point, Brian Douglas had turned his back on his partner and was preparing to exit onto the apron himself. Ziggy was still dancing. Then, out of no where…

FLAVOR OF THE WEEK!

Ziggy was hit with Stevie’s patented shining wizard and hit the canvas immediately on impact. Brian Douglas heard the impact of the blow and tried to put a stop to Stevie before any more damage could be done or else his team would walk out of The Final SHOWDown defeated yet again.

However, he was given the same shining wizard for his troubles. The bell hadn’t even rang. Hell, Modern Day Missionaries’ music hadn’t even been cut off. However, Stevie had a hand on both of his opponents and the referee found himself counting the pin fall.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

“The match hadn’t even started!” Ryan said out of surprise. “And Stevie K. just single handedly destroyed the Modern Day Missionaries!”

Bill was just as shocked, however, he remained calm. “It’s no surprise really, I’ve always known how talented Stevie is.”

“That’s funny,” Ryan said, “I thought you were always too busy staring at Chyler’s chest to notice.”

Stevie stood up quickly. He walked over to his corner. “That’s how you take care of minor annoyances! You get rid of them quick!” Stevie yelled at his teammates. He walked towards the entryway and left the ring, beginning his descent to the backstage.

Chyler and Dagan looked at one another a bit confused. However, they followed Stevie. Their work here was done.

“Well,” Ryan said, “In a record of three seconds, Team No Respect wins this match!”

WINNERS: Team No Respect

A Coping Mechanism
Morpheus was sitting in his office. His desk was as cluttered as it ever was, probably even more so tonight than on any other night. His elbows were planted on the surface in front of him. His head was held by the edges of his hand at his forehead. He looked down at the mess of the stacks and piles of paper in front of him.

“Fuck it,” he said a bit under his breath. In one swift motion, he sat up straight and used one arm to brush off everything off of his desk. Papers stirred into the air before they eventually hit the floor. SHOWrestling’s President of Operations leaned to his right and pulled open a drawer. He pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

Soon, he unscrewed the cap from the bottle and poured the liquor into the glass. He lifted the glass and began to drink. Each swallow came in slower and slower. However, he didn’t stop drinking until the glass was empty. He slammed the glass down and let out a very audible exhale.

“Ya done yet?” The Don’s voice could be heard.

Startled, Morpheus asked, “Where the hell did you come from?”

“It doesn’ matta’.” The Don replied. “This is my company’s last opportunity to see some black ink, capiche? I don’ need your head all clouded in this shit.” The Don picked up the bottle of scotch.

Morpheus scoffed. “What does it matter? You never gave a damn about this company. All you’ve ever given two shits about is money. That’s it. You’ve never cared about this business, or the effects it has on everyone else involved in it. Money, money, money.” Morpheus mocked his boss when he said, “’Dat’s all you’s ever cared abodd’.”

“Heh,” The Don let out. The two of them stared each other in the eyes. “You’re right. Da’ one ‘ting ‘dat da’ Don cares about in this world more ‘dan any’ting else is money. But da’ Don has spent his time in ‘dis bidniss too. Da’ Don knows what it’s like. Now, ya’ either get yer head out of yer ass or you jus’ leave right now. How does ‘dat sound to ya’?”

Morpheus sighed and shook his head in frustration.

Undisputed SHOWHardcore vs. SHOWPrimetime Championships
Troy Adams vs. Shawn FX

There isn’t a lot to say here.

On January 28^th, 2009 – SHOW’s second pay per view telecast, Endeavor, took place. Many of the building blocks for this night were set in stone. The most obvious of the two was when Shawn FX won the finals of the tournament for the SHOWPrimetime Championship by defeating Stevie K.

The other side of the coin saw Troy Adams attacking Sadistic from behind with a lead pipe. It was a plot drawn up by Nik VanCore in order to have his opponent on that night greatly weakened. The following week on STATIC nVc gave Troy Adams a briefcase, stating that inside was all that was owed to him. Later, it was revealed that the contents were none other than the Undisputed SHOWHardcore Championship. The title that was last held by VanCore back in 2002.

Given Troy Adams’ contract with SHOWrestling, he only combats under the circumstances that he wants. He requested this match. With legalities forbidding him to say otherwise, Morpheus granted it. Surely, this bout will have no rules, just the way Adams desires.

The ring was clear. The audience watched on in anticipation.

-It’s been awhile
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been awhile since I first saw you
And it's been awhile since I could stand on my own two feet again 
And it's been awhile since I could call you-

“It’s Been Awhile” by Staind began to play inside of the MGM Grand Hotel and Caino. However, it stopped rather abruptly when “Live for This” by Hatebreed took over anything audible. The fans booed. Troy Adams was sure to make an appearance.

Sure enough, the one who has violent intentions pushed his way through the curtains. He had the Undisputed SHOWHardcore Championship in one hand. In another, he held a trashcan filled with weapons of bodily destruction. The only weapons that were clear and visible were a steel chair and a Singapore cane.

Adams stood atop of the stage and lifted both arms well above his head. Most of those in the crowd booed his presence, while others remained silent. “Fuck you!” Adams yelled at the top of his lungs.

As he headed down to the ring, Adams lowered the weapons. The title stayed above his head and he did his best to keep a middle finger up for the remainder of his journey down to the ring.

“What a classy guy,” Ryan said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Bill began, “if he can get the job done, who are you to judge?”

Troy Adams threw the trashcan over the top rope. It crashed in the center of the ring. From there, Adams rolled under the bottom rope and stood up. He dropped his title and gave the audience the one fingered salute with both of his hands before getting a hold of his belt once more.

Finally, “Live for This” dimmed down. For a few moments all that could be heard was the chatter amongst the crowd. Until…

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” The words were spoken in darkness.
 
“I have come here to lead a new awakening.” The voice this time whispered.
 
“Prepare for the dawning of a new era!” The capacity crowd erupted into cheers as they recognized a familiar face.
 
“Oh hello there!” Shawn FX said shortly after he stepped out of the darkness as he appeared on the SHOWMe Screen.
 
“Feels So Numb” by Rob Zombie began to play. Shawn FX walked through the entrance curtain wearing his trademark sunglasses with his long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a black leather vest, red long wrestling tights, black wrestling boots, and fingerless black gloves.

Around his waist was the SHOWPrimetime Championship. In his right hand, he also brought a steel chair. Much like the reaction they had for Adams, the spectators either booed him or they didn’t seem to care.

Ryan spoke into his headset, “Our SHOWPrimetime Champion, ladies and gentlemen.” There was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

Bill had another point of view, “Why do you gotta be like that, Ryan?” Bill asked his partner. “These two are definitely two of the best in SHOWrestling.”

Ryan scoffed. “No, Bill. I’d like to think that the best in SHOWrestling wouldn’t be the equivalent of the world’s biggest douche nor the world’s biggest pile of…”

“Calm down!” Bill intervened.

During their conversation, Shawn FX had already made his way into the ring. He handed the SHOWPrimetime Championship to the official and things were set to be underway.

Or so it would appear.

Shawn left the ring immediately after handing off his SHOWPrimetime Championship. Meanwhile, Troy Adams relinquished his title to the referee. While on the outside, Shawn FX walked towards the ring announcer. As he did so, he was removing his black vest simultaneously. After the vest, his sunglasses were taken off. When he reached the ring announcer, Shawn exchanged his clothing for a microphone.

“Well now, it would appear as if I will need to take an early retirement,” Shawn said. “After this match, your humble SHOWPrimetime Champion will be unemployed, just like most of you here joining us tonight.” He pointed at the audience to a chorus of boos.

Shawn reentered the ring, keeping the microphone in his hand. “Have no fear, I am sure to end this night on a high note.” He said. Adams remained in his designated corner for the most part. However, he did grab a hold of the trashcan that he had brought with him to the ring. “This will be yet another easy victory for Shawn FX, without question.”

Shawn went to hand the microphone back to the ring announcer but stopped mid-way. He stood up straight and faced his opponent before adding, “Oh and by the way, Troy, I would greatly appreciate it if you would be mindful to try not to damage my hair.” The SHOWPrimetime Champion said. “Thanks in advance.” He added quickly before turning around and handing off the microphone.

SMACK!

FX turned around only to have the trashcan driven into his face.

“Well, there went that idea.” Ryan added. “I wonder if Shawn is still as grateful as he was before.”

Troy Adams removed the steel chair. Afterwards, he emptied out the remainder of the trashcan’s contents onto Shawn FX’s prone body as the bell rang. The match was now, officially, underway.

Adams picked up the Singapore cane and started waling away at Shawn’s mid section. Shawn riveted in agony. He tried rolling out of harm’s way only to have more smacks across his back and chest alike.

Shawn rolled under the bottom rope to try and create some distance between him and Troy. Troy took another swing from inside the ring that missed the target by a mile, seemingly. Shawn bent over and placed his palms on his thighs, attempting to shake the cobwebs by taking in deep breaths.

This only lasted for a couple of moments before FX began to step up the steel stairs. He pointed and barked some orders at the official, apparently asking that Adams be held back to allow him to reenter the squared circle.

The referee held Troy back and took the cane away from him as well. However, it wasn’t long before Adams grabbed one of the steel chairs. Shawn was back in the ring at that point. Adams swung the chair directly towards his opponent’s head. Shawn ducked out of the way. Adams turned around to try and face Shawn. However, the steel chair was dropkicked into his face for his troubles.

Although Adams dropped the chair, the dropkick wasn’t enough to get him off of his feet. He was backed up into the ropes where Shawn FX gave him three stiff forearm shots to the chest. FX forced Troy down to the mat with a surprisingly fast, side headlock takedown. Well, it surprised Troy Adams, anyways. Soon there after, Adams found himself locked in a front face lock.

That hold didn’t last too long, however. FX quickly followed through and shifted his own body atop of Adams’ lower body. Shawn locked in a fairly weak single leg crab before switching it up into a modified STF.

“Adams is definitely not used to this sort of pace, Bill.” Ryan commented before adding, “And I’m sure if he does get used to it, Shawn won’t take too kindly to being repeatedly hit in the head with a chair, either.”

“Do you just sit back and analyze every little detail about everything, ever?” Bill scorned.

The STF proved to be about as effective as the Pittsburgh Steelers’ offense with the lack of Ben Roethlisberger. Adams was too close to the ropes. Nearly immediately, he grabbed a hold of the bottom, causing the submission to be broken up.

That’s definitely what he would have wanted, anyways. The official counted to five and Shawn FX did not release the hold. Seeing as this bout was to be contested under no disqualifications, the bell didn’t ring. However, the referee did have to interject himself and physically separate the two combatants.

After a few warnings, the official allowed the match to continue. At that point, Adams was already charging towards the SHOWPrimetime Champion. Shawn saw the impending attack coming. He leaped to his feet and wrapped his legs around Adams’ head, looking for a hurracanrana. Instead of flipping forwards, Troy jackknifed FX to the mat with a power bomb. Adams held the position with a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

Shawn kicked out.

Now on his stomach following the kick out, Shawn FX received a leg drop on the back of his neck. And another. And another. When he was done delivering the leg drops Adams walked over towards the weapons that had been spilt all over the canvas.

Adams picked up a trashcan lid before walking back towards his opponent. However, the messiah of violence continued to walk well beyond FX. He walked to the nearest corner and ascended to the second rope.

Troy tucked the lid under his arm and jumped off of the rope looking for a diving forearm that Mick Foley made famous. The lid and Adams’ arm connected with the back of Shawn’s head. Adam rolled Shawn onto his back and looked for a cover once more.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

“A decent display of resilience on the part of the SHOWPrimetime Champion,” Ryan commented.

Adams stood up. While doing so, he had grabbed a hold of Shawn’s ponytail and pulled him up to his feet as well. Little did he know, FX had a hold of the trashcan lid that was driven into the back of his head just mere seconds beforehand. As soon as the pair of them were standing upright, Shawn drove the lid into Adams’ chin.

Much like the effects of the dropkick from the beginning of the match, there was little to be seen after this shot as well. Once again, Adams was only back up into the ropes.

Shawn decided to act. He ran towards the opposing set of ropes. He bounced off of the cables and bolted towards his opponent full steam ahead. Shawn clotheslined Troy over the top rope and onto the floor.

After the clothesline, Shawn FX did a bit of posing in the ring for the audience. They would have none of it. All they could do was boo and hiss in unison towards their SHOWPrimetime Champion.

All the while, Shawn knew that he had to follow up with some more offense. Thusly, he walked towards the corner parallel to the one that Adams had leaped from. Shawn climbed to the top rope. However, he lost his balance momentarily. For a split second, he had to bend over.

SMACK~!

That split second was all that Troy Adams needed. He threw a chair that connected with the top of Shawn’s skull. As he fell from the top rope, Shawn’s whole body turned 180. Before it was all over, he found his sternum colliding against the top of the safety rail. Finally, FX was flat on his back on the mat surrounding the ring.

Troy stalked towards his fallen prey. He bent over and grabbed a handful of the ponytail and pulled. Shawn FX wasn’t moving. Troy gave it another tug and what happened next can only be described by saying…

“WHAT?!” Bill shouted out.

All of Shawn’s hair was removed from his head. He had been wearing a wig this entire time. Troy Adams didn’t know how to handle the situation. He did the first thing that came to his mind.

Adams allowed Shawn to remain on the outside. He rolled under the bottom rope and picked up the trashcan with his free hand. He did his best to fix the dent that Shawn’s head had created earlier in the outing before standing the trashcan upright.

Adams dropped the wig in the can and began digging inside of his pockets. Troy pulled out some lighter fluid and a book of matches. He sprayed the fluid inside of the can. While doing so, Shawn began to stir on the outside of the ring. Troy lit one match before sending the whole book ablaze. He dropped the book into the can. The crowd cheered as Shawn FX was just realizing what had happened.

Shawn stormed into the ring asking for his wig. Adams smiled and pointed at the trashcan. Shawn fell to his knees, nearly sobbing. Adams picked up the trashcan by the handle. With his other hand, he grabbed a hold of the bottom of the can and drove it onto Shawn’s head yet again. Shawn fell backwards with his legs remaining in that awkward position.

Troy walked away from the carnage and some ring hands sprayed a fire extinguisher onto the flames. Adams grabbed the chair that was originally in the trashcan and unfolded it in the center of the ring.

We headed back to Shawn FX and grabbed him by the wrist. Troy drug the SHOWPrimetime Champion towards the chair before picking him up.

VIOLENT INTENTIONS~!

A hooked leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

And just like that, Troy Adams effectively ended the reign of the longest SHOWPrimetime Champion in the company’s history.

“Live for This” by Hatebreed played throughout the arena once again as the bell was tolled three consecutive times.

Ryan said into his headset, “Well, I can’t truly say I’m that surprised.”

“How so?” Bill asked.

“This was Troy’s environment,” Ryan said, “Shawn FX really didn’t stand a chance, to be honest. Either way, I wasn’t going to like the outcome.”

“Whatever,” Bill said.

The official was given both of the belts. He handed them to Troy Adams. Troy held one in each hand before hightailing it out of the ring. He walked up the ramp and stopped to face the fans one last time. He sneered and raised his arms above his head before retiring to the backstage.

WINNER: Troy Adams, NEW SHOWPrimetime Champion

Numbingly Comfortable
30 Minutes Earlier…

The crew was setting up the lighting in the banquet room backstage. It was the setting of Team No Respect’s dressing room for a segment later on in the show. Nik VanCore had locked himself inside the bathroom that joined the room.

Chyler Lockhart knocked on the door. Muffled, Nik could hear her say, “C’mon baby, they’re almost ready for you.”

“Just give me a fucking minute!” nVc screamed, harshly.

Nik was sitting on the commode. However, he was fully clothed and nothing was exiting his bowels. He just needed a moment to breathe away from the lights, away from everyone.

In front of him was his duffel bag filled with everything he would possibly need for the evening. He was breathing deeply. His teeth were grinding together slightly. He was in agony. It wouldn’t appear as though it was anything physical. However, there was something unmistakably discomforting him.

He bent forward and extended his arm. This limb was shaking uncontrollably. As quietly as he could, he dug around the items of no importance that were in his bag until his hand had found what his mind was seeking. He pulled out a bottle that assumedly had medication inside.

Nik popped off the top of the bottle and let it drop to the floor in front of him. He dumped some pills in his mouth and reached for a bottle of water that was on the sink beside him. His arm was still moving as though he was in the middle of an earthquake. He did his best to bring the bottle to his mouth and swallow.

He dropped both of the bottles on the floor. Pills and water covered the ground. He let out one large exhale. His body seemed completely relaxed. Every muscle, every thought, every heartbeat was calmer.

Until Chyler knocked on the door yet again. “C’mon, babe,” she said, “I wanna pee before we start filming.”

Her muffled voice was barely heard by Nik. He muttered gibberish in response. He stood up, unlocked and opened the door. Chyler was shocked at the mess that had been created in the room.

nVc didn’t pay any mind to her reaction. He didn’t seem to care about her at all, in reality. He walked passed her and into the lights, where he collapsed as he sat down on a Lay-Z-Boy recliner.

Stevie K. and Dagan walked into the room. The filming of this segment was definitely going to need a few takes.

Showing Respect
Nik VanCore was leaning forwards while sitting on a Lay-Z-Boy recliner in the locker room of Team No Respect. His head was rested in the palm of his left hand. He was massaging his forehead as Chyler Lockhart massaged his shoulders.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Chyler asked.

nVc gulped before forcing out the word, “Nothing.”

Suddenly, the locker room door swung open quickly, knocking against the wall. Stevie K. and Dagan, the other two members of Team No Respect, came storming in, yelling at one another. The words of their argument couldn’t be made out by anything with a brain.

Immediately, Chyler stopped massaging the former SHOWorld Champion and looked up at the two. VanCore, on the other hand, was a lot more reluctant in his approach. Slowly, he took his forehead out from his palm and put his chin in its place.

“Calm down,” Nik said just loud enough that Stevie and Dagan could hear him. They stopped their shouting. “What’s going on here?” Nik asked, still having to force out his words.

Stevie took in a few breaths before saying, “I’ve been saying since DAY ONE, I am better than this!” He pointed at Nik, “I am better than everything that you, shit, that this entire company would EVER give me credit for.”

Nik stood up from his recliner. He walked over to Stevie K. and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right,” he said quietly, “you proved out there that you can get the job done. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go somewhere that I can think.”

Faster than any of his previous movements, Nik VanCore left the room and closed the door behind him. The tension that was originally in the room seemed to completely dissipate.

For a few short moments, the three members of Team No Respect looked at each other. Chyler broke the ice. “Are you boys ready?” She asked.

Lunatic vs. Sadistic

A year ago, if someone were to look at the combatants in this bout, that person would have surely laughed. I believe a wise man of some sort once said, “Oh how things can change.”

Lunatic. For the majority of his career, he was used as nothing more than as a competitor that would add some comedic value to the program. Earlier this year, he suffered a concussion at the hands of Uncensored. He made another appearance before requesting his release from SHOWrestling.

Nothing was heard from Lunatic again. That is, until eScape. He returned during Uncensored and Nik VanCore’s Escape to Freedom Match after hopping over the guard rail and entering the ring. The next week on STATIC, he did more of the same. This time, he was able to attack Uncensored and Jessica Styles. He had with him a SHOWrestler’s contract which he signed and threw to Morpheus, making himself an official member of the roster once again. It was later revealed that he was, indeed, the perpetrator of the hacking of SHOWrestling’s website earlier in the year.

Since then, he has gone on a tirade. He even challenged Uncensored for the SHOWorld Championship during a few live events. Each time, Uncensored was able to get the better of him. However, after every victorious match, he has marked his opponents with lipstick, forcing them to wear a smile.

Sadistic. Since 2001, he has been the long-standing monster of SHOWrestling. Normally, if someone were to simply hear that they are to be facing him, they would be immediately consumed by fear.

Sadistic is all about mind games. He typically hands out letters to his opponents, telling them what he thinks of them. Since his debut in the company, he has never once shared a word with the audience. His only communication has been in form of the written letters.

These two combustible elements are sure to add a great deal of excitement to SHOWrestling’s final hurrah. The story of this match is surely going to be about the size and power of Sadistic against the speed of Lunatic.

Who will be able to shine?

Inside the arena, the audience sat dully awaiting the next match of the evening.

“This match is sure to be an interesting one.” Ryan noted to the fans at home.

“Never Enough” by Five Finger Death Punch began to play inside the arena. Most fans hadn’t the slightest of ideas as to what they could expect. Their answers were soon answered.

Lunatic pushed through the curtains. His make up was placed on his face as sloppily as ever. He slowly walked towards the ramp in the slouching position that had started to be accustomed to what was his normal strut.

He approached the ringside area and smiled as he gazed upon the squared circle. Lunatic walked over to the steel steps and entered the ring. He mouthed some words to the referee. The official ordered that the Loony one go to his designated corner.

“Never Enough” was turned off. Slowly, the theme from Saw began playing inside the arena. Fans jumped to their feet in anticipation for the monstrous hero that is Sadistic.

Sure enough, Sadistic walked through the curtains. He didn’t push them aside, he simply let them fall out of his way. As slow as ever, Sadistic walked down the ramp and headed to the ring.

“There he is, Bill.” Ryan said. “The long-lasting monster. The evil one. The sadistic one. The SHOWOriginal. Sadistic.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bill shrugged off his partner’s comments.

Slowly, Sadistic stood on the first step of the steel stairs.

CRASH~!

Lunatic had charged towards his opponent. He jumped into the air and flipped forwards. When his body came into contact with his opponent’s, Lunatic’s left arm had wrapped around the monster’s throat. They both fell to the lightly padded concrete floor below.

As quick as a whistle, Lunatic shot to his feet and stomped the beast demon to hell. He charged towards the ring announcer and shoved him out of his seat and took it. As he turned around, he folded in the chair and made his way back to the fallen Sadistic.

SMACK~!

Lunatic drove the chair into Sadistic’s face. Then again. And again. And again. And again. He continued to drive the chair into Sadistic’s body. Wherever the chair may find itself was a good enough spot for Lunatic, so it would seem.

Lunatic spat at the monster. The wad of saliva had landed on Sadistic’s chest. Lunatic laughed at all of the damage he had just created. He looked up to the fans with a smile on his face.

They booed him in response.

The referee had exited the ring and took the chair away from Lunatic. Lunatic turned to the official and smiled crazily. The referee backed away. However, Lunatic continued to stalk him.

The referee rolled under the bottom rope. Lunatic slid his way into the ring, continuing to stalk the official. Loony reached for the chair, but he was denied. Lunatic’s smile was gone. He was visibly upset. He tried to grab the chair again to further refusal.

Lunatic laughed and threw his hands up. He backed away until he hit the waiting monster. Sadistic was standing right behind him. Slowly, Lunatic turned around. He still had a bright smile on his face as Sadistic wrapped a hand around his throat.

Sadistic lifted Lunatic into the air, looking for a choke slam. However, Lunatic drove an elbow into the monster’s temple, bringing him down to one knee. The referee tossed the chair out of the ring and called for the bell.

DING!

DING!

DING!

The match was officially underway. With Sadistic wounded, Lunatic ran towards the opposing set of ropes. He bounced back and drove his feet into Sadistic’s face with a missile dropkick. However, the evil one remained on one knee.

Lunatic walked to the nearest corner while Sadistic tried to shake out the proverbial cobwebs. Lunatic climbed to the top rope and dove off in a seated position. Loony’s right leg connected with the back of Sadistic’s neck after a well executed guillotine leg drop.

Sadistic fell to the canvas. Lunatic struggled, but he managed to roll the monster onto his back.

Cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Sadistic started choking Lunatic as he took his shoulder off of the ring’s floor. While choking the life out of the crazy bastard, Sadistic stood up and brought Lunatic with him. He lifted Lunatic up into the air. Lunatic still had a smile on his face that was as wide and bright as ever.

Sadistic walked around for a bit before tossing Lunatic over the top rope and dropping him on the floor beneath. The audience arose with instant cheers. Sadistic was back to one knee, however. He still hadn’t quite removed all of the cobwebs. He still needed a moment. He held himself together by holding onto the middle rope.

“Damn it, Ryan!” Bill shouted. “How can Sadistic get away with that.”

Ryan quickly chimed in, “As dirty of a tactic as it may be, that choke slam was as legal as a headlock.”

Slowly, Sadistic stood up. He put a leg over the top rope as he left the ring. He bent down and grabbed a hold of the remains that was left of the limp body of Lunatic. As he began to pick up the loony one, Lunatic delivered a low blow.

Even for a monster like Sadistic, a low blow is going to take its toll. Sadistic bent down and rested his upper boy on the ring’s apron. Lunatic stood up. With all the strength he could muster, he lifted Sadistic’s legs into the ring and rolled him under the bottom rope before following his opponent into the ring himself.

Lunatic stood up and ran to the ropes. He came back and gave Sadistic a leg drop. He stood up quickly and jumped as high as he could. He dropped his leg across Sadistic’s throat again before going for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Sadistic kicked out.

The loony one stood up and turned to the referee. Lunatic grabbed two handfuls of the ref’s shirt. He yelled at the man although nothing distinct could be heard. The official had finally had enough. He shoved Lunatic as hard as he could. The push was enough to turn Lunatic’s whole body around.

Sadistic was waiting for him. A kick to a gut and a few moments went by…

SADISTIC PILEDRIVER!

Out of absolutely no where, Sadistic pulled off his trademark jumping, sit-out piledriver. Lunatic was out of it, for sure. Just a couple of second passed and Sadistic put his body atop of Lunatic’s.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NOOOOO!

Lunatic barely shot a shoulder off of the canvas.

Sadistic showed as little emotion as per usual. He stood up and brought Lunatic with him. Quicker than anything he had done in the bout thus far, Sadistic tucked Loony’s head under his arm, hoping to follow up with his finishing DDT.

However, Lunatic slid out from the predicament and allowed Sadistic to drive his body onto the mat. Ever faster than he had set up the DDT, Sadistic was on his feet. Lunatic tried a kick aimed at his abdomen, but Sadistic shoved his foot down.

Sadistic slapped his hand around Lunatic’s throat and lifted him up. Lunatic smiled as per usual. All the while, the loon was digging in his pocket. He pulled something out and put his hand in front of Sadistic’s face. Something could be seen spraying from Lunatic’s hand.

“Is that… mace?” Ryan seemed confused.

Whatever the case may have been, the referee wasn’t in a position to make a call. All that he saw was Sadistic put Lunatic back on the canvas and try to rub his eyes.

Suddenly, Lunatic ripped Sadistic’s mask off of his face. He tossed the mask aside as the monster tried to cover his face. Lunatic gave him a kick to the gut…

MAKING YOU SMILE!

The face buster followed the kick to the gut. Upon impact, Sadistic’s body bounced off of the ground and he found himself on his back. Lunatic looked to end it.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

“Never Enough” played in the arena. Lunatic shot to his feet. He drove his elbow into the face of the official, knocking him out. The music stopped as, apparently, Lunatic wasn’t through on this occasion.

Quickly, Lunatic left the ring and grabbed the steel chair that he had used before the match had begun. He returned to the squared circle. Sadistic was on a knee. There was nothing he could do to stop the chair that was headed towards his face.

SMACK~!

Sadistic fell to the canvas face first. Lunatic smiled. He chuckled. He laughed. This lasted a few moments. Much like earlier in the night, Lunatic swung the chair like a wild man.

Eventually, the loon dropped the steel chair and rolled Sadistic onto his back. Sadistic had been proverbially busted wide open. Lunatic dug into his pocket and pulled something out before he hovered over Saditic’s upper body.

His right arm was moving, though no one could tell what, exactly, Lunatic was doing. He stood up and laughed at the defeated demon.

There was a blue smile on Sadistic’s lips.

Lunatic left the ring and headed backstage. The cameras tried their best to remain on the fallen monster, whose face was seen for the very first time ever in his entire career.



WINNER: Lunatic

Absolutely No Respect
“Damn it, Bill! What the hell was that all about?!” Ryan shouted into his headset.

Stevie K approached the ringside area. He stormed straight towards the ring announcer and snatched the microphone out from his hand. Stevie turned around and powerfully strutted up the steel steps and into the ring.

“I’ve just about had it!” Stevie yelled into the microphone. “No one has EVER given me the respect that I deserve! This company is nothing. It’s always been one big pile of shit! I know it. You know it.” During the last sentence, Stevie pointed towards the announcer’s table before pointing towards the fans. “All of these people know it!”

He paused for a moment. Meanwhile, Dagan and Chyler entered the ring. “I was NEVER given ANY opportunity in this damn company. Hell, I’m more talented than anyone in that bullshit of a ‘main event!’”

Security ran down to the ring amidst all of the chaos inside the arena.

“Nik VanCore, you think you’re a king? Fuck you!” Stevie said. “You are nothing but a drug addicted has-been. I have no respect for you, I have no respect for an organization that does nothing but hold back all of its best talents, that why we went to the highest authority and…”

Stevie was tackled by security. They placed him in handcuffs. Dagan and Chyler were ordered to return to the backstage and they obeyed. Stevie tried to struggle but the security officers were able to get him to his feet.

When he was there, Stevie K. tried kick to kick at the guards. However, each one of them missed by a decent distance. They escorted him back to the backstage area.

All the while, the EMT’s in The Zone had finally been able to place Uncensored on a stretcher.

Not the Intended Technician
Spectators fell silent. They were stunned. It was a grim scene as Uncensored, arguably the promotion's most famous performer and someone who had also secured notoriety in other organizations, was laid out on a stretcher, incapacitated from yet another war with long-time rival, Nik VanCore.

William Banks was being pushed out of the arena when an EMT positioned at the front of the stretcher suddenly stopped. Others asked what he was doing as he turned round, pulled his hat off and suddenly tossed Uncensored off the stretcher and decked a so-called colleague that questioned what he was doing. That was enough to ensure that nobody else challenged his authority.

Motionless, Banks lay on the floor. Why? Who?

Why? Keegan.

That's who.

Most fans thought Nik VanCore was Uncensored's number one nemesis. In SHOW, he certainly was. In LIFE, he was second, a distant second to the man who stood before a capacity crowd that started to boo, hiss and whistle.

Special K, standing 6'4 and around 270 lbs, stared down at his sworn enemy. He didn't blink. As the boos ensued, he looked up at the audience and then down again at Uncensored. He lifted the dead weight, carried him on his shoulder in a Powerslam position and then unceremoniously dumped him over the top ropes by slamming him from a Gorilla-press position. 

Keegan left William and the fans waiting as he walked around the ring to the timekeeper's position and waved his right hand repeatedly, clearly asking for a microphone, a wish that was quickly granted: “I'm sure many of you will have learned or figured out by now who I am. If you don't know, you should. I'm Uncensored's worst nightmare come alive, I'm also yours. This promotion is teetering right now and I'm going to give it the push it needs.”

He quickly drew from the microphone and handed it to the announcer, whispering something in his ear. After 10 seconds, and a lot of listening and frantic nodding, the announcer steadied himself to deliver this impromptu news: “The following match is a NO DISQUALIFICATION, FALLS-COUNT-ANYWHERE SHOWORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH, SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL.”

SHOWorld Championship
No Disqualifications
Keegan vs. Uncensored

Nobody could believe it: “In the ring…”

Special K suddenly snatched the mike back: “I can take it from here,” he said, relieving the employee of his duties.

“In the ring is the so-called champion. A chump, a cheat, an illegitimate child and two hundred and forty-five pounds of nitrogenous weight lies before you, hapless, helpless, useless and feckless. He is everything that is true of show but wrong with wrestling and society today, the Austin-copying, Michaels-imitating, two-year wonder… Un-censored.”

BOOOOO!

Before the next announcement, introducing himself presumably, Keegan scaled the ring steps and entered via the middle ropes. Sure enough: “And his opponent...

“From GREAT BRITAIN…”

He threw his head back in dramatic fashion and posed, punching the air like a rocker before embarking on a virtuoso solo of air guitar: “In no particular order… The Yardstick, The Handsome Prick, The Best of British, England's number one, a whole lot of fun, prizes to be won, Funhouse, Red and yellow, he ain't Hulk Hogan... but he's a jolly good fellow, The Essence of Extreme, The Height of Humanity, The Meal Ticket, so you'd better get down and lick it, the Highlight Reel who'll make you squeal, the Real Heel, the three-time heavyweight champion - make that four…”

He didn't finish his sentence as Uncensored tried, started to stir and turn on his side. Keegan flicked a foot at him: “Well, well, well... William. I bet when you woke up this morning, got dressed, your little heart beating that you realized you’d be in for such a beating. I mean, Nick VanCore… I heard he was rougher than a badger's arse but he roughed you right up. Mind you, not that it takes a lot…”

Just as Uncensored was crawling, Keegan cruelly kicked him back down. Well, I say kicked. It was more like a nudge. He was spent. 

“I bet you didn't expect this, did you? Well, you should have. You should've seen it coming,” Keegan claimed as he bent down on one knee to talk to Banks more privately.

He lowered his tone: “The Final SHOWDown... has a ring to it. Why do you think they came up with that name? Didn’t you think about it?”

Special K stood on his feet again: “None of you ever thought I’d show, ahem, my face around here? You must’ve known. Anyone who knows this man properly, they know who I am. I’m the thorn in his side, the man who has his number, the Frost to his Nixon, the Hogan to his Savage, Keegan and Uncensored… one last time. Tonight. Right here. Right now.”

Keegan tossed the microphone to one side for a second and tried to lift Uncensored again, but was having more difficulty. Eventually, he did, only for Uncensored to fall back down again.

The second attempt seemed to be more successful and the Englishman picked the mike up again as he held Uncensored in place, only to knock him back on his backside by hitting him with the microphone.

As the fans jeered the Geordie Genius, he feigned yawning and returned their negativity back to them - with change: “How soft is this prick?”

He shook his head from side to side: “Okay, get a ref out here.”

Within ten seconds, we had a zebra and the Brit again bent down for what was surely academic…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Over.

Well…

It would have been had Banks not raised a shoulder at the last possible moment to deny Keegan his fourth heavyweight championship. He was open-mouthed, even more so when the referee raised two fingers to reiterate the count. 

He dumped the microphone outside. Now, the Newcastle native meant business. He helped Uncensored up and ushered him to a corner where he nailed him with two stiff chops, both celebrated with a customary ‘WHOO’ AND whipped him to the other buckle, hard, and followed in with a Hogan-esque clothesline. He repeated the trick, sending him back to where he was, and was close behind, sprinting after Banks as he darted towards the buckles and connected with another stiff Lariat.

He had a lot of momentum, so he decided to do it a third time, steadying Uncensored prior to firing him into the corner. The eager Keegan chased the SHOW superstar eagerly, too eagerly…

VERBAL ASSAULT!

SUPERKICK!

Jesus, where did William pull that one from?

Both men went down.

Uncensored clutched his injured knee and was in agony.

Keegan fell like he’d been mowed down with a shotgun.

The building was shaking, trying to egg Uncensored on in a match where he was underdog, the fight of his life. He was down, not out, and this was his second match tonight, grueling, but history was being made. This, after all, was not only the main event, but this was The Final SHOWDown, the grand finale, and Keegan had returned. Ever the opportunist, he was back. Back to put Uncensored out of business for good. SHOW was going, but not without a bang, and Banks had delivered it. Could he write the last few words of a bittersweet story, the history of SHOW, dogged with controversy, mismanagement and financial issues, to give everyone a happy-ever-after ending?

We were about to find out, as the referee reached nine, Banks suddenly started to move towards the prone body of his antagonist, both chests pumping hard, as the promotion's hero draped his left arm across the invader's upper body...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!!

HE HAD DONE IT!

No, no, no!

Out of nowhere, someone had run in last minute, last second, last gasp…

To drag Uncensored off of Keegan.

William looked round and then up at the monster who stood before him…

WHAM~!

A kick to the face, not a Superkick, but a big boot nevertheless.

It was Willis.

John C. Willis.

Keegan's half-brother.

One-time enemy of Special K.

Sworn enemy of Uncensored.

Uncensored had helped Willis defeat Keegan for The Fighting Zone trophy. Thereafter, the monster didn’t need Uncensored and their working relationship evaporated. John fended William off, defeating him to retain his title and then managing to do the same again when all concerned were in nbW. 2-0. Now, he was here to help Keegan in what could arguably be the biggest victory anyone has ever had over Uncensored, the first nbW champion and SHOW's greatest product.

Willis threw Uncensored over the top rope and onto the floor. Quickly, he pursued the foul mouthed S.O.B., who wasn’t in a position to escape the Kokomo Colossus’ clutches even if he wanted to, and the 325-pound mammoth drilled the helpless William into the ring steps, knee-first. He then rolled Uncensored back in, but only as far as the ring post and wrapped William’s injured limb around it, using it as a tag team partner to smash the shattered right knee into the post on three occasions. 

John rolled back in and choked Uncensored as the referee tried to stop him. Willis turned around to face the official, who suddenly sped away when confronted by the beast, who then placed his foot over William’s windpipe, continuing to rapidly squeeze the life out of the fallen idol. He changed tact again, becoming a tactician in the process, going back to the bull’s eye that was Uncensored's knee, hanging it across the bottom rope and using his considerable frame to crush the knee not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times. It was safe to say that the Superkick wouldn’t be hit again in this match. They had learned their lesson.

The Indiana Buffalo shouted at Special K, who hadn’t moved a muscle after being waylaid by William. In the meantime, Willis tried an Irish Whip, but Uncensored had been reduced to rag doll status, and fell before he could reach the corner. Like a child, Willis pushed him there while he took a run-up from the centre of the ring...

SPLASH~!

Uncensored went down in a heap but the toothless bastard wasn't done yet. With a handful of hair, he got Banks back to his feet and hoisted him up on his shoulder. He walked around for a few seconds, intentionally or unintentionally, who knows, showing off his superhuman strength with a quick sprint, a 245-pound lifeless and effortlessly…

RUNNING POWERSLAM!

The ring shook. I'm not kidding either.

Willis had taken over and now he helped his half-brother over and urged the official to count as Keegan’s head rested against Uncensored's midriff...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE?!

NO!

Nobody could believe it, least of all Willis, who glared at the official, before knocking the poor sod to the floor with a ferocious right hand and kicking him out of the spotlight, underneath the bottom rope. The artist formerly known as Spawned Terror was livid.

He slapped Keegan’s cheeks: “COME ON! WAKE UP!” It seemed to have an effect. With Willis, you always had to be wary of his power. He was always a force to be reckoned with, a difficult opponent to overcome. On this form, fresh and looking better than ever, with William in shocking shape after an unbelievable outing against VanCore, Willis was downright scary. He seemed to be hell bent on destroying Banks, infatuated with it somewhat, and that in itself was absolutely frightening for Uncensored and anyone connected to or who cared about him.

As Uncensored tended to his neck, Willis came down with two clubbing forearms across that area and as his half-brother, still dazed, got to a vertical base. Willis grinned. What did he have in mind as he picked Uncensored up?

He looked at Keegan, who gave him a nod. Suddenly, Willis elevated Banks up into the air...

SPIKE PILEDRIVER!

No referee.

No count.

No martini.

No party.

John was a man, or rather beast, possessed. He beat away on Banks, holding him down and banging away with solid rights, solid by his standards, hands of stone by others. Keegan was now ready to regain top billing and he high-fived John, then they shared a brotherly hug before the Brit brought Banks’ knee down onto the canvas a couple of times, capitalizing on that weakened leg. He consulted the Kokomo Colossus, who chuckled and nodded in agreement. He stood back while his older stepsibling slapped on a Figure 4, then stomped on the grounded great's head and proceeded to choke him once again, leaning on the larynx with his own knee. Nobody was around to contain the couple, who were having their wicked way with William, and driven to drive their enemy out of the industry forever.

After thirty seconds, they stopped and Keegan waved towards someone, everyone wondering who it could be. Then, it all became clear.

He had employed his own official, who was running towards the squared circle.

Keegan shook hands with his half-brother and then put his boot, arrogantly and nonchalantly, on the chest of Uncensored, similar to his pitiful pinfall attempt at the outset of the offering...

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

With the same outcome.

Keegan’s jaw hit the floor. Willis was incredulous. The referee didn’t know where to put his face, these brothers, a combine weight of 600lbs and evil to the bone, were shocked – but they were still in control.

They took an arm each, shoved him into the corner and took several potshots at him, punching and chopping away viciously, beating him down so his head was resting on the bottom rope. Then, they hauled him up and again went back to the well with an Irish Whip. Willis came out of the traps like a madman...

And went into the post shoulder-first.

Things were about to get interesting.

For the very first time tonight, William was standing up straight and gazing straight at Special K, who had an ‘oh shit’ expression etched on his face. 

His hands came up, begging Banks to back off. Like fuck he would… He rushed over like a wildcat.

The spectators were on their feet as Uncensored rained down upon Keegan with rights and lefts, lefts and rights, doing serious damage to Special K as the official tried to intervene but to no avail. Keegan was now down on the deck, where William kicked him repeatedly, until he felt paws on him…

LOW BLOW!

He back-heeled Willis down there.

Hey, he thought…

VERBAL ASSAULT!

That’s how you take a titan out. Even the monster had fallen...

CHOPBLOCK!

And now, just like that, Uncensored was back to square one.

Though, on the positive side, it was one-on-one.

The Yardstick, as he likes to call himself, dropped two stiff elbows to the inside of Uncensored’s leg. But, Keegan, who did have some submissions in his arsenal, knew he’d have to change tact. William’s knee was blown, his career could be over after the conclusion of this contest, but the hard-hitting Brit would have to start unloading with the high-impact moves. Willis had paved the way. Now, he had to pick up where his brother had left off.

He started by kicking Uncensored, full-on, in the face with a Martial Arts Kick and then gave him another to the back of the head. That would do to be going on with. Afterwards…

PILEDRIVER!

Wait, Keegan held on.

SECOND PILEDRIVER!

And again...

THIRD PILEDRIVER!

After the final effort, Special K spat on Uncensored and then covered...

ONE!

TWO!

THREE?

Three piledrivers...

Did not make a three count.

Keegan looked at the referee, who could only apologize and with his hands on his knees, he could have been put down with a feather. He smacked the canvas in frustration, and then announced: “This is it, you motherfucker.”

Again, Uncensored found himself between Keegan’s legs, and no, certainly NOT IN THAT WAY, and up in the air…

POWERBOMB!

Surprise, surprise, Special K didn’t let go.

However, surprisingly, really this time, Uncensored started to unload with rights. Just as the Geordie Genius was about to brush all of them aside and connect with a second…

HURRACANRANA!

Not again!

He rolled through…

ONE!

TWO!

NEAR-FALL!

Keegan was back on his feet, ready to take his frustrations out on William for real this time but the crafty champion ducked the wild Lariat attempt…

DDT!

ONE!

TWO!

Another close shave.

Ironically, Keegan, clean-shaven, not like in his past battles with Uncensored, was now on the receiving end and again on Dream Street. 

Uncensored was ready to sacrifice anything and everything to defeat Keegan. For now, winning was the most important thing. Only then, could he do what he really wanted to and kill Keegan - no, really, literally.

He went upstairs. He wasn't a cruiserweight. He wasn't the biggest man in a land of giants but he was by no means small. Yet, as we've seen so many times in the past and significantly, demonstrated to a t earlier, Uncensored could - and would - take chances, flying without wings, fearless, reckless, driven by an inner desire to accomplish victory. There would be no greater triumph for William, personally or professionally, if he could leave with the World title by way of vanquishing the vile, vulgar, waste of space that spanned 6'4 and weighed just over 270lbs. God knows, he hated him more than anything or anyone. To bury him in SHOW’s last ever match…

Orgasmic.

Paradise.

Fantasy.

Literally, he couldn’t have scripted it.

You couldn’t.

All he had to do was hit it…

William, you can do it…

Nail the bastard…

FROGSPLASH!

Knees were up!

In an instant…

Banks couldn’t breathe.

Keegan was up…

“Fucking arsehole, get up, I’m gonna murder you, you little cunt.”

Barely…

Uncensored got up.

He wish he hadn’t.

For Keegan had changed his finisher. In the past, he used what he called the Five Knuckle Shuffle, long before that little shit Cena did, which was a Discus Punch.

Now, he’d ripped off Goldberg, Edge and Rhyno...

SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!

He had connected.

Had he lulled Uncensored into that spot, knowing he was going to do it? Knowing it would lead to the Spear?

Or did it come to him in the nick of time?

Keegan told the referee to ‘fucking count…’

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING!

DING!

DING!

That was it. 

Uncensored was literally less than ten seconds away from winning the title...

But in those ten seconds…

Had lost it.

What had gone from being on the brink of career ecstasy…

Turned into the unthinkable.

The Final SHOWDown was correct. Unfortunately for Uncensored, like all of his other previous meetings with John C. Willis or Keegan...

He lost.

There would be no more chances. They’d all run out.

This was his one shot. You have to believe if he’d known...

He’d have done it.

He’d have won.

But it wasn’t to be. Keegan was an opportunist, and now…

He wanted to gloat as he came outside of the ring, searching for the microphone he had thrown out and snatched the strap away from the timekeeper.

Ungraciously, he chucked it, somewhat like he did to Uncensored at the beginning of the bout, over the top rope, probably with just as much regard as his devastated opponent.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet as it’s New Year in the UK now and I want to celebrate it here, properly, which I will do now that I’ve beaten this twat, the least talented, most overbearing, arrogant, conceited, foul-mouthed, uneducated son of a dickhead I’ve ever met.

“This is not the crowning achievement of my career but, admittedly, it does feel sweet. Somehow, some way, I’ve managed to allow myself to stoop to levels beneath what I ever imagined, actually being happy to beat someone so insignificant, so… shit to be blunt about it.

“You may think I arrived here, only for Uncensored. You’d probably be right. But no, I came for more than that. I came here to close this spermhole, for it should have closed a long, long time ago. In fact, it should never have existed. ANY promotion which pushes William Banks to the top… well, the proof is in the pudding. They go bankrupt. 

“While I could have beaten Uncensored alone on one leg, I couldn’t have inflicted this much misery all by myself. This was a team effort. You see, I’m connected. You all know what that means, just like you all know...

“The Don.”

Cue silence.

“That’s right. We’re in the same line of work. The Don and I can reach people. While The Don was owner of SHOW, a darn good one at that, he made a phone call on my behalf. To a mutual friend of ours.”

Special K smiled.

“Now, I’ve ended this parasite's career, once and for all... no happy ending for you. I’ll pass you onto one person, the one person who may hate Uncensored and SHOW even more than I do…

“Deacon Tern.”

WINNER: Keegan, NEW SHOWorld Champion

The Final SHOWDown
The jaws of the long-time followers of SHOWrestling surely had to be dropped lower than the chances of Uncensored ever being SHOWorld Champion again.

“Breathin’” by 2Pac began to play throughout the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino. Music that hadn’t been heard at a SHOWrestling event in over seven years. Deacon Tern, one of the two original owners of SHOW (who later purchased his partner’s half of the company) was about to make the most unexpected return.

At ringside, Bill and Ryan didn’t know what they could possibly have to say. Thusly, they remained quiet as the old bugger pushed his way through the curtains. He didn’t travel alone. Behind him, the man that fans believed to be the owner of SHOWrestling, The Don, entered the arena to show his support.

In the past, these two were great enemies. Things seemed to be changing for every moment that SHOWrestling was alive. They entered the ring as EMT’s began placing Uncensored on yet another stretcher.

Tern walked over to Keegan. Willingly, The Yardstick handed over the microphone as the two embraced in a handshake. The Don stood firmly behind the former prison inmate with his arms crossed. Keegan walked passed the mob boss. They both nodded their head at one another.

“First and foremost,” Tern said into the microphone while walking towards Uncensored and the EMT’s. “GET THAT PIECE OF SHIT OUT OF MY RING!” His words were met by a chorus of boos.

He hesitated for a moment, but he started o speak once more. “Make no mistake about it, this is MY company. No matter what anyone has to say about it. Sure, I was put away for breaking the law. But what I did was for all of you fuckers!” Tern pointed at the crowd. “You wanted SHOWrestling alive. It needed money to stay that way. Instead of doing what’s right, you morons are just going to sit there and boo me out of the arena for speaking the truth.”

Slowly, two thugs entered the ring. It was the same duo that had assaulted Morpheus last year during his match against The Don at SHOCK. They stood in front of their boss, awaiting further instructions.

“A few months later, I heard that John Fiktshun found out what had caused my company to go bankrupt. So without further ado,” he turned to The Don, “if you wouldn’t mind.”

The Don nodded his head. The two thugs left the ring and walked towards the announcer’s booth. Bill threw up his hands. The thugs grabbed hold of both of Ryan’s arms and pulled him as best as they could into the ring.

“You piece of shit!” Tern yelled in the announcer’s face. The hooligans each had a hold of one of Ryan’s arms. They held him spread eagle. “I’ve been waiting for eight fucking years to do this!” Tern drove a fist into Ryan’s jaw, causing blood to drip from the man’s lip. Tern… turned to The Don yet again. He nodded at his associate.

BADDA BING!

The Don delivered his patented big boot to Ryan’s face before the thugs let him flop to the canvas.

Tern spoke into the microphone again. “I heard that SHOWrestling was going to hold one, final event. MY company was going to have one last moment to shine. That’s when I called The Don. He called Keegan. Keegan, the REAL SHOWStopper, spoke to the parole board and now, I’m a free man. Free to do whatever I please. That’s why this company is back to its rightful owner.

“And if anyone’s going to kill my company. It’s going to be me.”

Morpheus had rushed down to the ring. He slid under the bottom rope and had given The Don a shove that landed him square on his face. Morpheus dropped to his knees and started pummeling his long-time enemy. The associates came to the boss’ aide instantaneously. One gave the morbid one a kick to his temple. They both put the boots to him before rolling him out of the ring.

“Heh.” Tern said into the microphone. “Morph, you were always a worthless piece of shit, too. You can’t stop this. No one can. This is what needs to be done.”

The thugs helped The Don to his feet and brushed off the dust so to speak.

“FUCK SHOWRESTLING.” Tern yelled with fury. “The legacy ends now.”

The show cut to static.