Monroe DVD Taping (4.20.13)

[FGA Office]

[FGA Office]

Monroe DVD Taping
Monroe Sports Center
Monroe, NJ

The house lights go out in the arena as the opening of "Violence (Enough is Enough)" by A Day to Remember flares up. Strobe lights begin to go insane when the vocals blare out of the sound system as Kevin Hardaway appears in the entry way. The crowd is thrilled seeing him as Kevin inhales before he makes his way down the ring. A few hands get slapped away as once Kevin is at ringside, he hops up on the ring apron. The lights are back to normal as they enter the ring as he heads to the nearest turnbuckle and goes up to the top buckle. Some take pictures as he steps down, inhaling once more as he does the same thing on the other side of the ring before backing into the corner as he then waits for the match to begin as his entrance song fades off.

HARDAWAY: I'm going to go out front and just get the elephant in the room out of the way...I'm not the best in coming out here, talking to the crowd, getting them RILED UP for whatever's coming and be on my merry way. Hell, I think I've come out here only ONE other time, and that was at Final Frontier when I walked out of those curtains and decided that I was joining this bright ol' company for the future time being. Hell, I've never been a guy who likes to talk and talk for hours on end about god knows what. See, I've always been a fighter, plain and simple. I say what I need to say, and I do the rest of my talking in this ring with the rest of my body. I'm not a guy who likes to drone on and on...just get to the damn point, already and let the people decide who they like.

But after the events of the past few weeks and shows, I just can't stay quiet anymore.

(Cue a huge crowd cheer who are going to get a proper discussion from the Pride Champion)

HARDAWAY: When I was..."let go" from my Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER contract back in December, I didn't just decide to pick FGA because it was the first thing on my mind. Not because they...and therefore, yours truly...went to war with this company and thought "Hey, this would be a great way to stick it to those assholes by joining the company they fought hard for to take down." Hell, nobody did anything. If I'm correct, we "tied" in matches 3-3. The only people that won were the fans who got to watch one of the best wrestling shows of the year. But back to it, I didn't join FGA because I was down on my luck and just looking for the easy way out. I joined FGA because this was the best fucking chance I had.

Safe to say...turned out to be the best decision I made in a LONG time.

(Hardaway raises his Pride Championship in the air, to another huge pop and a chant of "K-HARD! K-HARD! K-HARD!" fills the arena)

HARDAWAY: Problem is...somebody doesn't see that the way I do. Nothing wrong with that. At least, I find nothing wrong with it. But...somebody does. I have no problem if somebody doesn't like me, but when somebody tries to go out of his way to actually pay somebody off to take me out, that...I honestly have no words for it. Shocking, I know. But why have words for somebody who got paid to put a target on my back, and in the end, couldn't even get the fucking job done. All Anton Chase did was lay me out when my back was turned...ONCE. That was all. Since then, all he did was run his pathetic little mouth and look what that got him for his epitaph...a lariat to the dome and a trip back to wherever he came from.

What? Was Mr. Chase just supposed to be the red herring? Was he not even supposed to be a cog turning the wheel for you, Chandler? Is that it? I'll be the first to admit that you being the person who bought out a bullseye on my back caught me by surprise, even if getting arrested for attacking the WRONG person was actually worth it. Although a simple, "I hate your guts!" to my face would have done more than enough to get my attention, Mr. Scott. But no, you like to run your mouth, you like to make promises you can't keep. And just because you talk a big game and you run a big game, being a former FGA Champion and all, thinks it's scares the hell out of me?

Look at who the fuck you're talking to, Chandler. A guy with a bum arm from almost lariating a guy's head clean off because he lied to me that he was sleeping with my late wife. A guy who almost had his small intestines ripped out of his stomach only to wrestle 5 days later. I may be a little old and all of the gears may be gathering dust, but you think trying to do all of this, just because you're one of the only guys who doesn't like my company here, all because you want a little attention yourself, is going to just have me hang my fucking head and walk out? Boy, you're wrong. DEAD WRONG! And if you think for a second that I'm going to just walk out, you have another...

Woah-woah-woah-woah-woah.... woah.... woah... WOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAH!

(Chandler Scott steps through the curtain to boos from the crowd. He is grinning from ear to ear. He can't help but snicker to himself as he slowly approaches the ring. A quick shot of Hardaway shows him fuming with flared nostrils and clenched fists.)

Chandler: Now pardon me for interrupting. But I just couldn't sit there any longer and allow this slander to continue. No longer could I just stand idly by and allow myself to be besmirched. Especially by this lower life form that's standing in the ring right now.

(The crowd boos. Hardaway, beginning to grow impatient, starts to wave Chandler into the ring. But Chandler just chuckles as he shoos him away. He is in no hurry to get his hand dirty.)

Chandler: Kevin Hardaway, you take issue the fact that I paid Anton Chase to do a job that he failed miserliness at? You take issue with the fact that I resent the very notion of you being an admirable wrestler? You you take issue with the fact that I want you gone from this company? Well Kevy, you can do two things about that. And they are "nothing" and "like it".

(Chandler snickers as the crowd continues to boo. After making his way up the steps, he begins to walk slowly across the apron.)

Chandler: See Kevy, I am the longest tenured member of this roster. And from December 1, 2011 all the way up to the present day, this company has been built off of my blood, my sweat and my tears. Yours truly was the foundation. Your truly was the building block. Yours truly is the uncrowned Wrestler of the Year. And if anyone should have any say so as to who stays and who goes in this company, then it should be me. Not the people who sign the checks. Not the two imbeciles who sit in the back and do commentary. And it certainly shouldn't be any of these sheeple in the stands.

(The crowd breaks out into a "Chandler Sucks!" chant. But Chandler just smirks and twirls his index finger in the air, as if he is the conductor in an orchestra.)

Chandler: And if I say I want you gone form this company, then guess what?

(Chandler holds up his left hand, takes his index and middle fingers and makes a walking motion with them.)

Chandler: You're going to be walking your worthless hide right out those doors. Or, I can grab you by your collar and fling you right out the front door.

(The crowd boos as Chandler slowly steps through the ropes. As he approaches Hardaway, he can see The Murder slithering through the crowd out of the corner of his eye. But Chandler doesn't tip his hand. He keeps that information to himself.)

Chandler: What you fail to realize, Kevin, is that I am the filet mignon of FGA Wrestling. And you, my phony friend, are simply dead meat. You can have every slack jawed, gap toothed, cross eyed freak in these stands on your side. They can wear your tacky t-shirts, they can hold up their poorly drawn signs, they can slap their hands, stomp their feet and scream at the top of their lungs. They can even chant that cute little nickname of yours. None of it truly matters because when that bell sounds and the both of us are in this ring, I am your superior. You understand that? See, you're place in this ring is just like you're place in life. And that's strictly beneath a guy like me.

(The crowd boos. Hardaway walks up to Chandler. But Chandler just lets out a big smile. But his smile soon disappears into a scowl as the two stare each other down.)

Chandler: Next weekend at Only The Strong Survive, I'm going to take that belt that you hold in your hands and finally lend some credibility to it. Because when I beat you next week - and I will - the TRUE PRIDE of FGA will claim the title that was custom made for him. And you Kevy, with broken bones and a broken spirit, will be left without a job..... again!

(The two men stand staring at one another as a chorus of boos ripples throughout the arena; The Murder are charging through the fans, approaching the ring from behind Hardaway. Drake and Harter hurdle over the guard rails as Chandler Scott starts to back away.)

Kevin Clement: What the hell are those two doing here?

Evan Grayson: I don't know, but I'm looking forward to it.

(Hardaway takes a step towards Chandler as The Murder slide into the ring under the bottom rope. Still Hardaway hasn't seen them, his vision being focused on Chandler Scott who is now near the ropes. Drake strikes first, a forearm across the back of Hardaway's head sends the Pride champion stumbling forward. A flurry of punches from Malcolm Drake has Hardaway staggered, until he blocks one and fires back with an uppercut. The crowd cheer briefly; they immediately change their tune as Harter drops to his knees and delivers a low-blow to the Pride champion. Chandler, having exited the ring as soon as The Murder struck, is now somewhere out in the audience. He stops and turns back towards the ring, laughing as he sees the crows swarm over their fresh meat.)

Evan Grayson: This is payback, sweet revenge for New York when Kevin Hardaway stuck his nose in The Murder's business.

Kevin Clement: This is nothing short of an ambush. And look at Chandler Scott; he saw this attack coming and now he's walking away up the aisle with a huge smile on his face.

(Hardaway crumbles to his knees after the low blow as Harter delivers a thunderous knee strike to the side of the head. Drake takes charge and assumes a mounted position astride the Pride champion's chest. He begins to wail away with hard rights, repeatedly striking Hardaway around the eye. The Murder drag Kevin back to his feet; the champion is struggling to stand as Drake grabs him by the arm. Mors Omnibus! The short arm lariat sends Hardaway slumping to the mat as Harter lays in the boots. They're interrupted, however, as a wave of cheers nearly blows off the roof though as the fans see Pat Gordon Jr. and Bob Pooler running down the aisle. As they get near the ring both members of the Murder hastily exit, devious grins upon their faces as they mock their opponents. Drake and Harter head back up the aisle as, in the ring, Pat and Bob help the Pride champion back to his feet. All three men glare up the aisle, locking eyes with The Murder before they walk back behind the curtain.)

[FGA Office]

The show transitions into a scene backstage in which Wayne Carruthers and Justice Young are standing shoulder-to-shoulder someplace in the hallways of the Monroe Sports Center. Formally dressed per his usual appearance, Young holds a microphone in hand as he introduces Carruthers, who is already wearing his ring gear, before asking Wayne about his upcoming match against Braydon Jones.

Wayne Carruthers: Well Justice, apparently Braydon Jones hasn't been seen since his last appearance in FGA so truth be told I don't know what to expect other than me going out there tonight and showing everyone why I'll be a force to be reckoned with next week at "Only the Strong Survive".

Justice expresses concern upon his face, informing Carruthers that he has a match to focus on tonight rather than any bout at an upcoming event.

Wayne Carruthers Bro, don't even worry about it... Braydon, as much as I respect the guy for his talent in the ring, I have to be honest in that I'm confident in my abilities against him in our match later on. I mean, yeah, the guy is bigger than me -- which is saying something -- but like I said on my show about a week ago, he's slower than me and I'll be using that to my advantage. And it's funny, maybe he hasn't been seen because he's out filming the latest episode of "Vikings" since, after all, Braydon does look like a perfect stand-in for that show with his kojak dome and scraggly beard.

Carruthers, who had mentioned the "Only the Strong Survive" show earlier, is asked about his chances to win the Gold Rush Rumble.

Wayne Carruthers: You know, it's a tall order but I got something up my sleeve -- it's called confidence. I'm confident in my ability to outlast more guys -- and gals -- in the Gold Rush Rumble than I am in a smut film. But don't get me wrong, realistically speaking, it's a lot of people being placed into that match but I'm keeping my mind focus on one thing and that's the FGA Championship. But first, I have to win the Rumble and then we can get somewhere.

Young applauds Wayne's confidence before signing both of them off the scene as the segment fades into another portion of the event.

[FGA Office]

J.T. Cash vs. Johnny Karma

The arena is bathed in a warm glow of orange and red lights as the sheer epicness of John Paul Jones’ drum intro to “When the Levee Breaks” fills the arena, and at the exact microsecond that Jimmy Page’s riff starts The Man, The Myth, The Johnny Karma swaggers out onto the top of the ramp to greet his adoring public with Cherry Baum hanging on his arm, pausing to blow a kiss to all his fans in attendance who paid to see him and only him this evening, before he starts to walk down to the ring.

Kevin Clement: Hello everyone and welcome to another Frontier Grappling Arts DVD presentation. We are coming to you from the Monroe Sports Center in Monroe, New Jersey. I am Kevin Clement. Joined with me as always is Evan Grayson. Tonight, we are a little over a week away from Only the Strong Survive. And this night has already started off hot.

Evan Grayson: It definitely did. Kevin Hardaway and Chandler Scott had a heated confrontation at the start of this taping. But things turned worse for Hardaway as The Murder attacked and Chandler left him high and dry.

Clement: Unfortunately, we haven't seen the last of The Murder as Malcolm Drake will be in tonight's main event. But right now, let's take it back to the ring as Johnny Karma makes his entrance....

Karma walks down the ramp, making sure not a single hair is out of place on his head, making sure to talk to his adoring public as they address him whilst he walks down to the ring. The pair reach ringside, as Cherry climbs onto the apron and holds the ropes open for her man. Karma waves to the luckiest fans of all, those at ringside as he performs, before walking up the ring steps and climbing into the ring through the gap Cherry has created for him.

Clement: If there's one thing I can say about Karma is that he doesn't lack confidence.

Grayson: You know what else he doesn't lack? Talent! And that talent is going to lead him to victory over Monopoly Money tonight.

Karma walks across the ring, climbing the turnbuckles and raises an arm into the air, holding up one finger to remind us all of one simple truth – He’s #1. Karma climbs down, then walks across the ring and climbs the opposite turnbuckles, looking out into the crowd who have paid for the privilege of watching him wrestle, before unzipping his track top to reveal his chiseled physique. He removes his dark glasses and places them in his jacket pocket, before climbing down. As he stands in the ring, Cherry Baum takes the house mic.

Cherry Baum: Introducing first and foremost, the main event, the star attraction...weighing in tonight at a lean, mean and pert 233lbs, and hailing from Queens, NYC – he is the light of your lives...he is JOHNNY KARMA!

Cherry steps aside and gives a round of applause as Johnny K steps into the centre of the ring to remove his jacket and give a bow to the crowd, before Cherry hands him the microphone].

Johnny Karma: Ladies and…ladies

Karma winks, then brushes a strand of hair back into place.

Johnny Karma: Tonight I give you the honour of not only showing you what a wrestling match looks like, but also showing everyone in the crowd and every basement-dwelling CHUD watching this DVD that, at the far end of that sewer pipe known as the Holland Tunnel is a place where you can find class, and refinement, and culture, and quality, and...basically everything you can't find in New Jersey, apart from the guy you're looking at right now.

And, no, I am not referring to J.T. Cash. Sorry...

Clement: Johnny Karma talks a big game. But we'll see if he can back it up against The Enigma...

The lights strobe throughout the arena, as the first notes of Enemy by Sevendust hit the PA system, the crowd all move towards the guard rails as there standing at the top of the ramp having broken through the curtains is J.T.Cash. Dressed in his usual black track pants with Enigma written down the side of one leg, a dark zip up hoody covering his face he stands at the top of the ramp bouncing back and forth from side to side. As the lights start to slow down in their strobing it settles on J.T.Cash looking to each corner of the arena nodding he pounds on his chest then points in to the air in his usual tribute.

Cruz: And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada. Weighing in at 235 pounds. He is "The Enigma", J......T.....CASH!

He walks towards the ring with a purpose holding out his hands to reach out to the fans before sliding under the bottom rope and taking his place in the ring. As the fans cheer his name he lifts off his hood and a smirk develops over his face, his arms outstretched welcoming the fans admiration.

Clement: J.T. Cash, after a year of rededication, is looking to jump back into a wrestling ring and pick up where he left off all these years ago.

Grayson: I don't dismiss Cash's accolades. Former NWA Television Champion. Multiple time SCCW Welterweight Champion. But that three years ago. This is now. And right now, Karma is the hot commodity. He is the man on the fast track to greatness. And Cash is a guy with ring rust. He can't compete with a man with the skill of Johnny Karma. He just can't.

The bell sounds as both men circle the ring. They lock up. After jockeying for position, Karma throws Cash down with a fireman's carry takeover. The crowd boos as Cherry Baum applauds from the outside. Cash gets back up to his feet and circles the ring. He then inches back over to Karma and locks up with him. After jockeying for position, Karma throws Cash down with an arm drag. The crowd boos as Karma gives himself a pat on the back. Baum again applauds from the outside. After Cash gets back up to his feet, he circles the ring before going back over towards Karma. The two lock up. After jockeying for position, Karma moves Cash into the corner. After pressing Cash up against the corner, the ref goes over and gives both men until the count of five to break the hold.

Ref: ONE..... TWO..... THREE..... FOUR....

Both men slowly make a clean break. The crowd boos as Karma playfully taps Cash on the cheek. But the boos turn to cheers once Cash shoves Karma down to the canvas.

Clement: And Cash has had enough of Karma's arrogance!

As Karma rolls back up to his feet, Cash runs from out of the corner and knocks him down with a running shoulderblock. The crowd cheers. Karma gets back up, but Cash knocks him back down with another running shoulderblock. The crowd cheers. As Karma gets up, Cash goes for a running clothesline. But Karma ducks and counters with a drop toe hold. The crowd boos as Karma rolls across Cash's back and applies a grounded hammerlock.

Clement: And just like that, Karma retakes control.

Karma jerks the arm, causing Cash to cringe in pain. As Cash tries to get up to his feet, Karma jerks the arm, causing Cash to grunt in pain. After Cash battles his way back up to his feet, Karma keeps the hammerlock applied from behind. He then quickly spins Cash around and plants him with Instant Karma to boos from the crowd. He turns over and makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Cash kicks out.

Karma picks up Cash and applies him in a side headlock. But Cash shoves Karma off of him and into the ropes. When Cash comes back, Karma knocks him down with a standing shoulderblock. Karma smiles as Cherry applauds from the outside. As Karma runs into the ropes, Cash kips up to his feet. When Karma comes back, Cash leap frogs over him. Karma continues to run into the ropes. When Karma comes back, Cash throws him down with a hip toss. The crowd cheers. Karma gets back up, but Cash throws him down with an arm drag. The crowd cheers. As Karma gets back up, Cash runs over and connects with a dropkick, sending him stumbling through the ropes and to the floor. As Cherry scurries over and checks on Karma, Cash ramps up the crowd by waving his arms up and down. As Karma begins to get up, Cash runs into the ropes. When Cash comes back, Cherry moves out of the way as Cash charges forward, leaps through the ropes and knocks Karma down with a suicide dive. The crowd cheers.

Crowd: CASH! CASH! CASH! CASH!

Clement: Cash knocks down Karma with a big dive to the outside! He certainly looks like he hasn't missed a step, Grayson.

Grayson: It's not over yet.

After picking Karma up, Cash heads over and rolls him back into the ring. He then climbs up onto the apron and waits for Karma to get up. Once Karma gets up, Cash connects with a springboard dropkick to the back, sending Karma stumbling through the ropes and to the floor. The crowd cheers. As Karma gets up on the outside, Cash runs into the ropes. When Cash comes back, Karma slides into the ring and knocks Cash down with a clothesline. The crowd boos as Karma goes over and puts the boots to him. He then reaches down, picks up Cash, runs towards the ropes, leaps over the top rope and drops Cash throat-first across the top rope with Macho Karma. The crowd boos as Cash clutches his throat in pain. Karma quickly slides back into the ring and makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Cash kicks out.

Clement: Another nearfall there for Karma.

Grayson: But more importantly, Karma once again regains control of this match. Just when Cash thinks he's got some momentum, Karma has consistently pulled the rug out from under him.

Clement: That is true. Karma has been quick to stop Cash from controlling this match.

Karma picks up Cash, brings him into the corner and slams his head into the top turnbuckle. After turning Cash around, Karma unleashes a series of knife-edge chops that echo throughout the building. He then takes Cash and whips him into the opposite corner. Karma charges across the ring. Cash leans back and goes to deliver a boot to the face. But Karma catches his foot and yanks Cash from out of the corner, sending him falling back-first onto the canvas. The crowd boos. As Cash sits up in pain, Karma comes up from behind and delivers a rolling neck snap. The crowd boos as he makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Cash gets his shoulder up.

Clement: And yet another nearfall for Karma. You know, I don't like his antics. I'm not a fan of the way both he and Cherry Baum demean the opposition. But I must admit that Karma has been solid thus far in this matchup.

Grayson: Why do you sound so surprised? Anyone with a brain could see that Karma was going to do whatever he wanted to Cash in that ring. Like I said earlier, I don't discredit Cash's past accolades. But it only matters what you've done in the present. And right now, Karma is having his way in the ring.

Karma picks up Cash and shoves him back into the corner. He then goes over, springboards onto the middle rope and connects with the Kodak Moment. The crowd boos as Cash crumbles from out of the corner. Karma picks him back, up, lifts him up and delivers a slingshot suplex. Karma turns over and makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Cash gets his shoulder up.

Karma picks up Cash and tries for another suplex, but Cash blocks it. Karma goes for another suplex but again, Cash blocks it. After delivering four punches to the ribs, Cash delivers a vertical suplex of his own to cheers from the crowd. He turns over and makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Karma kicks out.

Clement: And now Cash gets his first pin attempt of the match. But Karma gets his shoulder up in due time.

Cash picks up Karma and whips him into the ropes. When Karma comes back, Cash throws out a kick to the midsection. Karma catches his foot and wags his finger at him to boos from the crowd. But the boos turn to cheers as Cash counters with the Vegas Two Times. He turns Karma over and makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Karma gets his shoulder up to boos from the crowd.

After picking up Karma, Cash unleashes a series of knife-edge chops of his own. He then takes Karma and whips him into the corner. Cash charges into the corner and connects with a clothesline. The crowd cheers. He then turns around, places Karma in a headlock and goes for a running bulldog. But Karma shoves Cash off of him, sending him into the ropes. When Cash comes back, he knocks down Karma with a flying forearm smash. The crowd cheers as Cash kips back up to his feet. After circling the ring, Cash crouches down and waits for Karma to get up.

Clement: Cash has firm control of this match now. And it looks as if he's about to set up for the Cash Cut.

Grayson: Don't get up, Karma. Stay down!

When Karma finally gets up and turns around, Cash charges at him and goes for the Cash Cut. But Karma side steps and counters with The World's Greatest Abdominal Stretch to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: Did you see that?

Clement: A well-timed counter there by Karma.

Grayson: And now Cash has got nowhere to go. He mind as well just give up.

The ref kneels down and checks on Cash. While the ref isn't looking, Karma grabs the middle rope to boos from the crowd. As soon as the ref stands up, Karma lets go of the ropes. After eyeing Karma, then ref kneels back down and checks on Cash. While the ref is distracted, Karma grabs the middle rope and tugs away to boos from the crowd. But the boos turn to cheers as the ref pops up and catches Karma using the ropes. He then goes over and knocks Karma's arm off the ropes. Cash then quickly counters by a hip toss to cheers from the crowd.

Grayson: Hey! The ref can't hit Johnny Karma!

Clement: If he wasn't cheating, then the ref would have had no reason to knock his hand off the ropes!

As both men get up, Cash throws a right hand. Karma responds with one of his own. Cash delivers another right hand. Karma responds with one of his own. Cash throws a right hand. But Karma counters and clocks Cash with a right cross. Cash throws another right hand, but Kash blocks and counters with a right hook. Karma then knocks down Cash with Sugar Ray Karma to boos from the crowd. Karma then does a little Ali Shuffle as Cherry applauds from ringside. Karma picks up Cash and whips him into the ropes. When Cash comes back, Karma throws a clothesline. But Cash ducks and runs into the ropes. When Cash comes back, Karma goes for Check Your Chiclets. But Cash catches his foot, spins Karma around, kicks him in the midsection and then delivers the Cash Drop to cheers from the crowd. As Karma stands in a dazed state, Cash spins him around, grabs him from behind and delivers the Cash In to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Cash throws him down with that hard slam!

Cash circles the ring and he waves his arms in the air. The crowd chants his name as he waits patiently behind Karma.

Grayson: Stay down, Karma. Stay down!

A dazed Karma slowly gets up to his feet. Cherry can be seen waving him off and telling him not to turn around. But the dazed Karma turns right into a kick to the midsection. Cash then plants him with The Generation Gap to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

Enemy" plays to cheers from the crowd.

Cruz: Here is your winner, J.T. CASH!

J.T. Cash gets up as the ref raises his arm to cheers from the crowd. Meanwhile, a dazed Karma slowly sits up and holds up two fingers at the referee.

Clement: J.T. Cash is victorious in his return to wrestling as he defeats Johnny Karma.

Grayson: It's only one match. It proves nothing. If he wants to back up all his talk, then he should go out there and win the Gold Rush Rumble. Until then, everything that comes out of his mouth is nothing but hot air.

Clement: I'm willing to bet that J.T. has every intention of winning that Gold Rush Rumble.

Grayson: Yeah? Well, so does everyone else, including the man that he just beat tonight. I wish him good luck. He'll need it.

[FGA Office]

[Cut backstage - Johnny Blayze walking into the building with a baseball cap on, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of jeans with black boots. He turns a corner and bumps into Justice Young.]

Justice Young: Woah…Johnny Blayze…what are you doing here tonight? You're not even booked.

Johnny Blayze: Honestly, I don't really have time for this right now. I've literally JUST gotten off of a plane from San Diego and I have a message to deliver to whoever's listening; particularly Tigre Oro.

Justice Young: Tigre Oro? But he's not here either.

Johnny Blayze: Well he better pick up a copy of this here DVD and he better be paying close attention cause I got something to say.

[Blayze looks right into the camera as Justice Young holds a microphone to his lips.]

Johnny Blayze: Tigre Oro…you may have heard that Jonathan Collins is incapacitated and most likely won't be at "Only The Strong Survive. And I'm sure you're wiggling your little striped tail in glee knowing you just escaped a world of hurt courtesy of the "Saint of Violence".

But you're wrong, Tigger.

What business Jonathan Collins has started here in FGA…I'M now finishing.

So come April Twenty-Eighth in Boston, Massachusetts….your death wish WILL come.

And it will come from ME.

[And with that, Johnny Blayze stomps off down the hallway towards the FGA matchmaker's office.]

Justice Young: Man...Tigre Oro vs Johnny Blayze? That should definitely be something to see. Now, back to ringside

[FGA Office]

Anton Chase vs. Jake Winchester

"Kashmir" begins to play and Jake Winchester walks out from behind the curtain to cheers. He raises his arms in the air with a cocky grin and then slaps a few hands on his way to the ring.

Cruz: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Syracuse, New York. Weighing in at 245 pounds. He is "Old School" JAKE WINCHESTER!

He makes his way onto the apron and looks out to the crowd, where he grins once again and nods in time with his music for a few moments before he steps into the ring and runs the ropes a few times before his music fades.

As Faint By Linkin Park blasts over the pa system, white smoke fills the entrance way as a person is seen behind the white smoke, as the person steps forward in front of the white smoke Anton Chase makes his way down the ramp way, with a cocky smile on his face and his arms out at the side, he climbs in the ring and climbs the second ropes and puts one hand up in the air.

Cruz: And his opponent, from Los Angeles, California. Weighing in at 210 pounds. He is "The Future" ANTON CHASE!

Clement: Anton Chase is trying to get back on the winning page after a series of tough loses.

Grayson: Fluke losses, you mean. I've seen Chase around. I've looked into his eyes. This man is determined to get back to his winning ways. And not only will he beat Jake here tonight, I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that he'll be someone to watch in the Gold Rush Rumble.

Clement: Despite his cockiness, I will never underestimate a man with Chase's tenure. With that being said, he better keep his eye out for Jason Richards. For whatever reason, Chase attacked Richards after their match two weeks ago. And I can tall you that the Strong Style Wolf will not let that slide.

The bell sounds as Chase runs over and delivers several clubbing shots to the back of the neck to boos from the crowd. Chase then takes Winchester and whips him into the ropes. When Winchester comes back, Chase scoops him up with a fireman's carry and then drops down into a double knee gutbuster. The crowd boos. Chase picks up Winchester, grabs him from behind and delivers The Chase Factor to boos from the crowd. He then picks up Winchester, lifts him up and delivers the Chaos Theory to boos from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

"Faint" hits to boos from the crowd.

Cruz: Here is your winner, ANTON CHASE!

Chase gets up, walks over towards the ropes and spreads his arms out to boos from the crowd.

Clement: Anton Chase gets the win with an absolutely dominating victory over Jake Winchester!

Grayson: Just like I told you moment ago, this man is determined and ready to take his FGA career to the next level. And if he performs like this in the Gold Rush Rumble, then we could be looking at the man that's next inline for an FGA Championship Match.

[ FADE OUT ]

[FGA Office]

(“You Know My Name” by Chris Cornell hit’s the air, and all of the sudden the capacity crowd in the Garden State is on their feet for the self-professed living legend of the wrestling world makes his way out to the ring. Wearing a promotional t-shirt for the upcoming FGA event “Only The Strong Survive”, Bond’s face is almost emotionless. As he makes his way up the stairs, he gazes out over the FGA Nation and nods his head. Stepping to the center of the ring, he quickly spins around and lets off his trademark smirk, sending the crowd into another frenzy. As the fans in attendance slowly mellow out, Bond is handed a microphone and quickly gets down to business.)

Chris Bond: A path toward redemption runs through miles of horrid hell.

That’s what I have experienced, anyway. My battle for redemption isn’t a relatively new war I’ve been waging. It’s been going on since I blew out my knee in 2009. I’ve been fighting it since I came back to this sport. I’ve been fighting for my own personal redemption since the mother of my child, and my former fiancée found out that I had been hiding an addiction to painkillers. Hell, I’ve been fighting this fight since I drank a little too much one night and put my fist through the kitchen cabinet, mere inches from her head.

(A small chorus of boos lets loose across the Monroe Sports Center. Obviously they’re not a fan of wall-mounted furniture abuse. Bah-da-dump. Bond nods his head in agreement, mouthing “I know, I know..” His face is full of regret, but he slowly continues on.)

Chris Bond: It’s not easy for anyone, let alone myself to admit that I’ve got some demons. And to be honest, it seems like at times that they’re going to get the best of me. But I fight, I fight each and every damn day to make sure that I don’t become that person I used to be. I fight, for my son. I don’t want to wind up as another dead wrestler, killed by the hazards of this business. I fight for my friends, and what little family I have left. I fight for each and every single one of you--but mostly I fight for myself. Because I don’t want to leave this place as an unfinished pillar, or a broken pedestal.

I fight each and every day… but on April 6th, my fight became just a little bit easier.

When I defeated Magna and Jones, I felt a load being lifted off from my shoulders. I felt as though finally, something or someone up there…

(Chris places a hand over his mouth before looking and pointing up to the heavens with his free hand.)

Chris Bond: …Was looking out for me. That finally, something was going my way. Lord knows I’ve seen my share of triumph and tragedy. I’ve felt a lifetime of glory and heartbreak, but as of right now, I vow to you all… that I will not let you down this time. When I step into the ring with Chris Q for his FGA Heavyweight Championship, I find myself at the end of years long quest for redemption.

(Bond takes a moment and takes a few paces around the ring, looking out across the tens of hundreds of eyes in attendance, all peering at him. They search, and they delve into his soul, could they really possibly understand his hurt? His pain? His quest for such an specified and overused term such as “Redemption”? A small cheer lets him know the Jersey crowd behind him.)

Chris Bond: Now, I won’t lie to you. I won’t stand here and tell you it’s going to be an easy battle. Redemption never is. But my quest for redemption comes to a head at “Only the Strong Survive”. Chris Q, our reigning Champion isn’t a slouch. And while he likes to pretend he’s just this party-hearty kinda guy, he’s a vile and a vicious calculating son of a bitch. And honestly, that’s why he’s at the top of this mountain.

(A curtain of boos falls over the fans in attendance, the mere mention of Chris Q being their FGA Heavyweight Champion for an extended period of time really souring their stomachs. A rather obvious smirk forms across Bond’s face.)

Chris Bond: I’ve watched the tapes; I’ve seen the hype videos. He’s undefeated. He’s never been beaten. Last time I checked, he’s 9 and 0. I can’t say that I haven’t looked up at those lights for those forever stinging three seconds. I’ve had my fair share of victories and losses, but the thing is… it doesn’t matter if you’re undefeated or yet to win a match. What matters is that when you feel that first push of adversity, when you get that first win or that first loss, that you keep moving forward. You bask in that glory, and you take your next step. You brush yourself off, and you take that next step.

I’m not going to be another Ryan Kidd, where I’m forced out of here and leave you all behind. I won’t be another AJ Fairchild, where I break when you need me the most. And I will not let my better Angels fall at the hands of my greater Demons.

(The battle hardened ring warrior stands there reflecting on the statement. Lord know’s he’s had his fair share of greater demons in his life. The fans start to really root for the self-proclaimed living legend letting a small “Bondo” chant pick up.)

Chris Bond: I may be the underdog heading into this match. I may be the drug-addicted, booze-hound with the target on my knee and my age working against me, but in this business you learn that it doesn’t matter who you are or who you are competing against… because on any given night, the wind can shift and three seconds later you are left wondering “What the hell just happened?”

I don’t need to be bigger and better than the “Big Bad” himself. I just have to make sure that by the count of two, I get my shoulder up. I just have to make sure that I’m just a little bit more aware of those ring ropes. I honestly just have to make sure that I do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t kick out.

(Chris smirks a bit, the thought of him besting the undefeated Heavyweight Champion being just enough of a spark to get his heart pumping and his adrenaline flowing.)

Chris Bond: It may be an uphill battle. Hell, it may be a losing battle… but I’m going to be the guy who gives it everything he’s got. I’m going to be the guy who throws everything he has at Chris Q--and I’m going to be the guy to break that streak.

Not because I’m better, or bigger, or I have more experience. Chris Q is our Champion for a reason. That reason is that he was hungry and he wanted it. But my only advantage is that I am hungrier and I want it--no I NEED it more than he does.

(A small build of cheers rolls out over the fans, causing the hair to rise on almost everyone’s arms.)

Chris Bond: My name is Chris Bond… and as the dust settles at “Only The Strong Survive”, everyone will be welcomed into MY FRONTIER.

(An eruption of cheers bellows out of the bodies of the fans in attendance. “You Know My Name” picks back up and Chris stands there, eyes a little watery from all of the emotion, basking in the adoration of the fans in attendance.)

[ FADE OUT ]

[FGA Office]

Jason Richards vs. Santa Claus

The sound of a wolf howling through out the arena can be heard as the lights go out. The lights then begin to flash red, white, and blue as Richards appears from behind the curtain. He looks out over the crowd pumping them up as he makes his way to the ring holding his hand out.

Cruz: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Seattle, Washington. Weighing in at 202 pounds. He is one half of the GFC World Tag Team Champions. "The American Wolf" JASON RICHARDS!

The crowd slaps it as he makes his way around the ring stopping at the corner he stands on a chair once again hyping up the crowd. He jumps up on the apron stepping through the ropes he begins stretching in the corner waiting for his opponent.

Clement: Jason Richards had many a harsh words for Santa this week.

Grayson: And why shouldn't he? I'm not the biggest Richards fan, but I applaud him for what he did this week. I, too, have taken an issue with this fraud.

Clement: What do you mean fraud?

Grayson: The man's a fraud! He's not Santa because Santa doesn't exist! Oh, and by the way, HE'S A 500 POUND GUY WITH A JUNIOR HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!!! That doesn't make any sense!

Clement: How does Santa visit all the kids in the world in one night and give out all those gifts? Evan, some things just don't need to be explained.

Grayson: Oh give me a break!

"Santa Claus is Coming to Town" by Bing Crosby (techno dance remix) hits the arena as a chill comes over the arena. A light snow begins to fall from the rafters as a sleigh enters the arena carrying the impressively huge mass of Santa Claus and his beautiful, young, hot wife Mrs. Claus, who smiles warmly at Santa as he drops the reigns and stands up in the sleigh. He looks around and smiles as he now hops down quite spryly for an "old" man. He holds up his hand and helps his wife step down from the sleigh. Santa now reaches inside his sleigh and grabs one red and one black Christmas sack made out of crushed red and black velvet material, respectively. Santa chuckles to himself as he slings the sack around himself and catching it on the side of his back around his shoulder. He now hums a merry little Christmas tune as his face tics up into a friendly, yet mischievous smile.

Cruz: And his opponent, from The North Pole. Weighing in at 500 pounds. He is the current UWL Junior Heavyweight Champion..... SANTA CLAUS!

Mrs. Claus comes to a standing position next to her husband as he now climbs into the ring. He opens the crushed red velvet Christmas sack and begins to toss red and green wrapped Christmas gifts out into the fans. They rabidly stomp, shove and trample over one another just to get one of the gifts. Santa just chuckles inside the ring. The black Christmas sack, however, remains closed and is currently resting in Santa's corner. He now pulls on the ropes and bellows out a mighty "HO...... HO...... HO!" at the top of his voice.. with the fans all chiming in right along with him. He now leans over in his corner as the big breasted Mrs. Claus whispers something to him, as they both await Santa's opponent to make his entrance.

Clement: See that? How can Santa not exist when he's clearly right there in the Monroe Sports Center?

Grayson: Oh please!

Clement: And look at the joy on all the kids' faces. How can you dislike the happiness that Santa brings?

Grayson: I don't even know why I bother...

The bell sounds as Richards runs up to Santa and throws a lariat. But Santa doesn't budge. Richards then looks at his arm, then back at Santa. He then runs into the ropes. When Richards comes back, he connects with another lariat. But again, Santa doesn't budge.

Clement: I think Jason Richards needs to go with Option B. Because Option A clearly is not working.

Grayson: Yeah, trying to knock down a man that nearly outweighs you by 300 pounds isn't the smartest idea.

He then looks Santa up and down in disbelief. After letting out a primal roar, Richards runs back into the ropes. When Richards comes back, Santa throws him down with a big back body drop. The crowd cheers as Richards roll around the ring in pain. As Richards gets up, Santa runs over and knocks him down with a running clothesline. The crowd cheers. Richards gets back up, but Santa knocks him down with a right hand. The crowd cheers. As Richards gets up, Santa grabs him and whips him into the ropes. When Richards comes back, Santa connects with a standing shoulderblock. Richards stumbles into the ropes. But Richards ricochets off the ropes, comes back and delivers a stiff forearm strike to the face. He then delivers another stiff forearm strike to the face. Richards then delivers a series of alternating shoot kicks to Santa's legs before delivering a spinning back kick to the midsection. While Santa is doubled over, Richards grabs him and goes for a suplex. But Richards can't lift him. He then tightens his grip and goes for another suplex. But again, he can't lift Santa. So Richards changes strategy and takes Santa down with a swinging neckbreaker. The crowd cheers as he makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
Santa shoves Richards off of him.

Clement: Santa just tosses off of Richards like it's nothing.

Grayson: Richards has Santa down. He needs to keep him down.

As Santa gets up on one knee, Richards runs into the ropes. When he comes back, he connects with a lariat that knocks him down. The crowd cheers as he makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
Santa shoves Richards off of him to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: And again, Santa emphatically breaks up the pin by tossing Richards off of him.

As Santa gets back up, Richards throws a shoot kick. Santa catches his foot, but Richards counters with an enzuigiri to cheers from the crowd. As Santa stumbles over towards the ropes, Richards runs over and delivering a flying knee strike to the back, sending Santa stumbling into the ropes. As Santa ricochets off the ropes, Richards rolls him up from behind with a schoolboy.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Santa kicks out.

As Santa gets up on one knee, Richards nails him with a Kawada Kick to the head that knocks him down. The crowd cheers as he makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Santa gets his shoulder up.

Richards picks up Santa and goes for an irish whip. But Santa reverses, sending Richards into the ropes. When Richards comes back, he slides through Santa's legs. When Santa turns around, Richards runs over and delivers a spinning back kick to the midsection. Wen Santa is doubled over, Richard applies a standing guillotine to cheers from the crowd. But Santa grabs Richards, lifts him up, runs into the corner and rams him back-first into the corner.

Clement: Great counter there by Santa.

Grayson: And this is not the spot where Richards wants to be in right now.

Once the hold is broken, Santa unleashes a series of shoulder thrusts to the midsection, followed by a series of knee thrusts. Santa then unleashes a series of right and left combos to the midsection. He then takes Richards and whips him into the opposite corner. Santa runs across the ring and connects with a corner splash. The crowd cheers as Richards crumbles out of the corner. Santa makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Richards gets his foot on the bottom rope.

Santa picks him up and whips him into the ropes. When Richards comes back, Santa throws him down with a powerslam.

Clement: Santa with a bone rattling slam. This could be it........

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Clement: No, only two!

Santa picks up Richards, only to throw him down with a scoop slam. He then delivers an elbow drop. Santa gets back up and delivers a leg drop. He then gets back up and bounces into the ropes. When Santa comes back, he connects with a jumping body splash to cheers from the crowd. He hooks the leg.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Richards gets his shoulder up.

Grayson: How did he get his shoulder up? He just got squashed like a bug.

Clement: Richards nearly had all the air driven out of him with that bodysplash. But he somehow had enough energy left in him to get his shoulder up.

Santa picks up Richards and whips him hard chest-first into the corner. As Richards stumbles back, Santa grabs him from behind and takes him down with the Mistletoe Madness to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Richards gets his shoulder up to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: And again, Richards gets his shoulder up.

Grayson: It was close. But how much fight does he have left? Probably not much.

Santa sits him up and applies a clavicle hold. Richards can be seen cringing in pain. The ref asks Richards if he wants to give up. When Richards refuses to quit, Santa cinches in the hold. The ref again asks Richards if he wants to give up. But again, Richards refuses to quit. Richards slowly begins to turn over onto his knees. After battling his way back up to his feet. He nails Santa with four elbows to the midsection. He then runs into the ropes. When Richards comes back, Santa goes for a clothesline. But Richards ducks and runs into the ropes. When Richards comes back, he connects with a lariat. Santa stumbles back, He then runs into the ropes. When Richard comes back, he connects with a flying forearm smash. Again, Santa stumbles back. Richards then stands up and delivers a flurry of shoot kicks to the midsection to cheers from the crowd. He then delivers a series of shoot kicks to the back of the leg. Santa's left leg then gives out. After Santa drops down to one leg, Richards steps back and then blasts with him with a superkick. The crowd cheers. While Santa is dazed, Richards runs into the ropes. When he comes back, he connects with a front dropkick to the face that knocks him down. The crowd cheers. Richards picks up Santa, grabs him and plants him with the J.R. Driver II to cheers from the crowd. Richards then points to the top turnbuckle as he walks across the ring. The crowd cheers. After stepping through the ropes, Richards climbs up to the top turnbuckle, leaps off and connects with a diving headbutt. The crowd cheers. As Santa slowly turns over and gets up on one knee, Richards runs over and connects with the Emerald City Flash to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

"Clutch" plays to cheers from the crowd.

Cruz: Here is your winner, Jason RICH--

The crowd boos as Anton Chase clotheslines Richards down from behind to boos from the crowd. The bell sounds as Chase puts the boots to him, stomping away at Richards' back.

Clement: Richards just got a hard fought victory over Santa! But now he gets knocked down from behind by Anton Chase! Chase is better than this!

Grayson: He is. But so what? Richards shouldn't have let his guard down. This is what's going to happen in the Gold Rush Rumble. There will be people on all sides of him. And if he's not prepared, then this is what's going to happen.

Chase lifts up Richards and plants him with the Starmaker. The crowd boos as Chase stands over Richards and raises his arms in the air.

[FGA Office]

The ring goes dark as a woman's voice comes over the loud speaker.

Woman: Ladies and gentleman we have a treat for you tonight. You may have heard rumours about the possibility of a returning FGA superstar... Well I'd like to take this moment to introduce a certain special someone.

There is a pause during which we can hear a rustling of papers and a whisper in the background.

Man: Go on read it...

Woman: This man made history by becoming the first ever FGA champion, set records as the three time Solo Tag Team Champion and even became the only winner of the now retired FGA Cross Gender Transformation Medallion...

There is the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and heated argument.

Woman: What is this shit? I can't read this, is it your sick idea of a joke?

Man: You've started now, so you may as well finish...

Woman: Fuck you. You want this read out then go find some other shmuck, or better yet do it yourself, I'm off.

We hear the slamming of a door and the sound of someone picking up the microphone. A heavily accented voice echoes around the building.

Man: No point in keeping you waiting, here I am, the man who won your hearts and the respect of every man, woman and child in the word of the FGA...

The deafening sound of a blast comes across the speakers as the lights go up and reveal, standing in the middle of the ring, wearing just grey jogging bottoms and a pair of worn out trainers, arms out to the side, upper body fully tensed...

Man: It's me! Micky O'Reilly!

The fans go wild as he turns slowly, right hand in the air, still clutching the mic. This dies down pretty quickly though as he reaches down to his feet, grabs a bottle and a glass that went unnoticed up until now and pours himself a large whiskey. He swirls it around the glass and takes a deep breath through his nose, savouring the rich scent before taking a sip

O'Reilly: Some of you may have noticed I haven't been around much lately...

A man at the front of the audience in an FGA t-shirt shouts back and gives him the finger.

Heckler: It's been ten months asshole!

O'Reilly: That may be so fella but I had my reasons. Reasons that I don't have to explain to you, or anybody else for that matter. But, as I'm an honest man I will... In the next few weeks. But anyway, I'm here tonight for a more important reason.

O'Reilly pauses to drink deeply from his glass and puts the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle a cough as the whiskey warms his throat.

O'Reilly: I'm here to address the fact that this once proud company is now full of tits who like to think that they can wrestle. Who strut around giving it the big "I am" pretending they have the balls that it takes to be a true fighter... Well I've had a look for myself, and let me tell you what Micky O'Reilly sees. All Micky O'Reilly sees when he walks these halls is pillocks with their hands on the dicks and their heads so far up their own arses they can probably see what they had for breakfast. They spend more time worrying about what inspirational quote to put on their Tweeter and which photo they should upload to their Facespace than on trying to do the only thing that counts around here... Dominating.

O'Reilly downs the remainder of his drink and starts shouting energetically.

O'Reilly: That's why I'm here, that's why I'm back. To dish out pain like it was going out of fashion. Let the whole of the FGA know that the big dog is back and this time the leash is off!

The crowd start stamping their feet and a chant of "Micky, Micky, Micky" goes up, culminating in cheers as he runs and jumps up the nearest turnbuckle, launching his whiskey glass into the audience, narrowly missing a group of teenagers and shattering on the floor, much to their delight.

He drops from the turnbuckle and stalks back across the ring, picking up his Jameson's and swigging straight from the bottle as he climbs between the ropes and makes his way backstage to the sound of "Teenage Kicks"

[ FADE OUT ]

[FGA Office]

Wayne Carruthers vs. Braydon Jones

The lights dim slightly when suddenly, the beginning guitar work for This is Absolution is heard followed by orange lights going off near the stage, when the song picks up into a scream, Braydon comes storming out, shouting and pumping up the crowd.

Cruz: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Weighing in at 300 pounds.... BRAYDON "THE BULLY" JONES!

He walks to the ring with a sense of purpose, interacting with the fans before sliding in and going towards the ropes, screaming with the fans as the music fades.

Clement: Braydon Jones was so close to gaining an FGA Championship Match. But he was bested by Chris Bond. Now Braydon has to go through over a dozen FGA grapplers if he wants another shot at the belt.

Grayson: Talk about bad luck. He went from having to have to go through two others wrestlers to get a title shot to now nearly two dozen. That must be pretty demoralizing. But hey, he had his chance, just like Cami did. And they both came up short. Now, they have to travel the long, hard road to the title.

The signature guitar riff from X’s "Wild Thing" begins to play out of the venue’s sound system. Meanwhile, a fog of smoke covers the lower half of the stage before the drum beat enters the musical foray, which cues Wayne Carruthers to make his appearance onto the entrance platform. Welcomed with the audience singing along to his theme song, Carruthers struts away from the stage as the lights from the stage behind him pulsate in rhythm to the rock tune playing aloud.

Cruz: And his opponent, from Cleveland, Ohio. Weighing in at 260 pounds.... "Wild Thing" WAYNE CARRUTHERS!

Carruthers, finally making his way down to the ring, climbs atop the apron before entering the squared circle where he shoots his arms out to the side as he balls his hands into a fist before returning his arms nearby his waist.

Clement: Carruthers picked up the win last time out against Tigre Oro. This time, he's facing a man that's not only bigger than him but stronger as well.

Grayson: And you can bet that he's none too pleased after missing out on an FGA Championship Match.

The bell sounds as both men head to the center of the ring and exchange punches to cheers from the crowd. The two men continue to trade blows until Braydon gains the upperhand. The crowd cheers as each punch knocks Carruthers closer to the ropes. As Carruthers appears to be dazed, Braydon steps back and goes for a lariat. But Carruthers ducks. When Braydon turns around, Carruthers connects with a backflip kick to cheers from the crowd. He then grabs Braydon and whips him into the corner. Carruthers charges across the ring and connects with a clothesline. The crowd cheers as Braydon slumps down in the corner. After walking towards the center of the ring, Carruthers turns around, charges into the corner and conencts with the Ass Attack to cheers from the crowd. Carruthers then picks up Braydon and sends him into the ropes. When Braydon comes back, Carruthers hoists him up and delivers the Skyfall Slam to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

"Wild Thing" plays to cheers from the crowd.

Cruz: Here is your winner, WAYNE CARRUTHERS!

The referee raises Carruthers' arm in victory to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Wayne Carruthers keeps the momentum going as he picks up an impressive win over Braydon Jones!

Graydon: Braydon Jones was just in a match where he could have become the number one contender for the FGA Championship. Now, he's getting beaten decisively by Wayne Carruthers!

Clement: "The Bully" appeared to be a guy that could have been a favorite to win the Gold Rush Rumble. But with two wins under his belt, maybe it's "Wild Thing" who could end up being the wild card in that Gold Rush Rumble.

[ FADE OUT ]

[FGA Office]

MAIN EVENT
Camellia D. Magna vs. Malcolm Drake

“Riptide” by Sick Puppies sounds through the speakers in the arena. The main lights go dim and the entrance ramp is lit by blue and green lights. Fog slowly rolls down the ramp, covering the floor. Cami steps onto the top of the ramp with a huge smile on her face. She walks down the ramp, constantly looking around, spinning in a circle so as not to miss anything, enjoying the cheers from the crowd.

Cruz: The following contest is your main event of the evening! And it is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Charlotte, North Carolina. Weighing in at 145 pounds...... CAMELLIA D. MAGNA!

When about halfway down the ramp, she takes off running, sliding into the ring under the bottom rope. While on the mat, she pushes up into the bridge position. After holding it for a few seconds, she kicks over to a standing position.

Clement: Cami Magna was highly impressive in that Triple Threat Match from two weeks ago with Braydon Jones and Chris Bond. It looked like that she had that match won towards the very end. But she came up just short.

Grayson: And now she'll be surrounded by nearly two dozen grapplers that are bigger and stronger than her in the Gold Rush Rumble. I don't like her chances.

Clement: I actually do. There are a lot of people, like you, who don't perceive her as a threat. But she is a threat because if she wasn't, she would not have been placed in that number one contenders match from two weeks ago. And depending on the luck of the draw and who is left in the match, Cami could very well walk out the winner of the Gold Rush Rumble.

The lights go out in the arena as Alice In Chain's “Man In The Box” starts playing over the speaker system. The strobe lights begin flickering on the entrance curtain in pace with the drum and base line until they reach a crescendo at the chorus and Malcolm Drake bursts through the curtain. Drake stops beyond the curtain, casting wary sideways glances at the fans along ringside.

Cruz: And her opponent, from Boston, Massachusetts. Weighing in at 183 pounds. Representing The Murder.... MALCOLM DRAKE!

He recoils from those fans that attempt to touch him, screaming at them and smacking himself in the head along the way to the ring. Drake slides until the bottom rope on his stomach and crawls to the nearest turnbuckle corner, where he slumps his arms over the middle rope, staring out at the crowd. He turns back towards the ring, slouching in the corner; scratching his head and chest hair.

Clement: He's been called a lot of names. The Head Crow. Godkiller. But after the comments he made this week towards Camellia, there's only one word I can use to describe Malcolm Drake: PSYCHOTIC!

Grayson: I'm sure he didn't mean it. I'm positive that he'll handle Cami with the gentlest of care. And after taking part in this exhibition, they'll go out for tea and crackers and have a good laugh over the whole thing.

Clement: You have got to be kidding.

Grayson: Of course I'm kidding. He's going to snap here in half!

Clement: I refuse to reiterate his comments towards Cami. But they were disgusting and disturbing. I know that Cami has openly expressed fear of this match.....

Grayson: She practically begged for her life!

Clement: But I have confidence in her. It's not only she's in there with a 300 pounder. Drake is barely 30 pounds heavier than her, if that. She is a trained athlete. She knows what she's doing in there. Cami can't let the fear consume her. That's what Drake preys off of. That's what he wants. She can't let him get into her head.

Grayson: It's too late. He already is. And she's such a sweetheart, too. It's a shame that Drake is going to disfigure her.

The bell sounds as Drake immediately rushes over to Cami and tries to take her head off with a lariat. But Cami ducks the move. When Drake turns around, Cami delivers a series of knife-edge chops to cheers from the crowd. She then grabs a hold of Drake and goes for an irish whip. But Drake reverses, sending Cami into the ropes. When Cami comes back, she tries to slide through Drake's legs. But Drake reaches down and grabs her by the throat with both hands.

Clement: Oh no.

Grayson: Those are not the hands I'd want wrapped around my neck.

The crowd boos as Drake yanks her back up to her feet. After violently shaking Cami, Drake tosses her into the corner. He then charges towards the corner. But Cami nails him with an elbow to the face. The crowd cheers. She then grabs a hold of Drake and slams his head into the top turnbuckle as the crowd counts along.

Crowd: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten!

The crowd cheers. Cami then takes a groggy Drake, brings him from out of the corner and whips him into the ropes. When Drake comes back, Cami knocks him down with a spinning heel kick to cheers from the crowd. She makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
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Drake kicks out.

Clement: So close!

Grayson: Close? You think Cami is even remotely close to putting Drake away?

Cami picks him up and places him in a side headlock. But Drake quickly shoves Cami off of him and into the ropes. When Cami comes back, Drake goes for another lariat. But again, Cami ducks and runs into the ropes. When Cami comes back, Drake takes her down with a Lou Thesz Press. But instead of attacking her, he just grabs her wrists with both hands and pins her arms to the canvas. Cami panics as she frantically looks around her. She tries to break free, but Drake has her pinned to the canvas. A sadistic smile forms on his face before he lunges down and repeatedly headbutts Cami to boos from the crowd.

Clement: Come on, ref, get in there and break this up!

Grayson: Hey, she signed up to be in the wrestling business. This is what happens!

Clement: Do you not have any compassion? What is wrong with you?

Grayson: Hey, I'm not trying to get my hair ripped out or my eyeballs gouged. I will gladly pray at the alter of The Murder if it means I don't get harmed.

Clement: You're unbelievable.

Drake then gets up and marches around the ring. He wipes his nose against the back of his forearm as Cami can be seen clutching her nose in pain. Drake then slowly turns over. He cocks his head to the side and feigns sympathy as Cami appears to be in pain. Once Cami rolls over onto all fours, Drake runs over and delivers a punt kick to the ribs, sending Cami rolling over towards the ropes. The crowd boos. Cami tries to get up on all fours. But again, Drake runs over and delivers a punt kick to the ribs. The crowd boos as Cami falls stomach-first onto the canvas. Drake begins to circle the ring as he runs his hands through his hair.

Clement: Look at him, just circling Cami like some vulture.

Grayson: Like a CROW! Wrong bird, Kev.

As Cami tries to pull herself up using the ropes, Drake comes up from behind and throws her down to the canvas. He then goes over and delivers a running stomp to the face. He continues to put the boots to Cami, stomping away at her chest to boos from the crowd. He then drops down to his knees and chokes Cami as the boos get even louder. The ref gives Drake until the count of five to break the hold.

Ref: ONE.... TWO.... THREE..... FOUR.....

Drake lets go. He gets up, reaches down and picks up Cami by her hair. He begins to taunt Cami as he yanks back on her hair, sending her head and neck jerking back. The crowd boos as Drake laughs at the horror on her face. After taunting her again, he yanks back on her hair again. The crowd boos as Cami shrieks in pain. Drake then runs forward and tosses Cami over the top rope, sending her crashing hard back-first to the floor. The crowd boos.

Clement: What a disgusting human being Malcolm Drake is. He gets off on this. And that Conniving Little Bastard Dom Harter is in the same boat. He's no different.

Grayson: When this DVD comes out, you better hope that The Murder watches this match on mute. I would hate to find you backstage with a baseball bat next to your motionless body.

Drake slowly walks over towards the ropes as Cami pulls herself up onto the apron. As she tries to pull herself up on the apron using the ropes, Drake goes to grab her. But Cami ducks and counters with a shoulder thrust through the ropes to cheers from the crowd. With Drake doubled over, Cami delivers a sunset flip to cheers from the crowd.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Drake kicks out.

Clement: Come on, Cami, you can do this.

Grayson: Yeah, okay....

As soon as both wrestlers get up, Drake runs over, grabs her by the hair and throws her down with a mat slam. The crowd boos. After circling the ring, Drake goes back over and steps on Cami's hair. Cami tries to get up. But her hair is pinned down underneath Drake's boot. Drake laughs as he continues to toy with Cami.

Clement: That.... that.... that bastard! He thinks this is funny!

Grayson: Would you like to step in there and tell him to stop laughing?

He then reaches down, picks up Cami and nails her with a knee strike to the midsection. He then whips her into the corner. Drake runs into the corner. But this time, Cami leans back and nails him with a boot to the face to cheers from the crowd. As Drake stumbles back, Cami runs from out of the corner and takes him down with a headscissors takeover. The crowd cheers. Drake gets back up, but Cami runs over, hops onto his shoulders and takes him down with a hurricanrana. The crowd cheers.

Clement: Cami now mounting a comeback!

As Drake gets up, Cami runs into the ropes. When Cami comes back, Drake turns her inside out with a lariat.

Grayson: And there goes that comeback....

The crowd boos as Drake makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Cami gets her shoulder up to cheers from the crowd.

Grayson: She should have just kept her shoulder down and spared herself.

Drake picks her up and delivers a headbutt, sending her stumbling into the corner. Drake slowly makes his way over to her. But before Drake can even strike, Cami nails him with a kick to the midsection. She then nails him with another kick.... and another.... and another. After slamming Drake's head into the top turnbuckle, she turns Drake around and whips him into the opposite corner. Cami charges across the ring and connects with a clothesline to cheers from the crowd. As Drake stumbles from out of the corner, Cami runs into the ropes. When Cami comes back, Drake goes for a yakuza kick. But Cami slides underneath his leg. As Drake turns around, Cami gets back up to her feet, kicks him in the midsection and sets him up for a DDT. But Drake grabs her around the waist, charges forward and rams her back-first into the corner. The crowd boos. After placing her in a side headlock, Drake rakes her eyes along the top rope, sending her stumbling into the adjacent corner. Drake stalks after her. He then turns her around and unleashes a flurry of right hands that sends Cami slumping down in the corner. Once Cami is down, Drake delivers a series of facewashes with his boot. He then runs into the ropes. When Drake comes back, he connects with a running facewash. The crowd boos as Drake drags her from out of the corner and makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Cami gets her shoulder up to cheers from the crowd.

Drake picks her up, only to nail her with a headbutt that knocks her down. He makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Cami gets her shoulder up to cheers from the crowd.

Drake picks her up and whips her into the ropes. When Cami comes back, Drake knocks her down with a yakuza kick. The crowd boos as he drops down and makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Cami gets her shoulder up to cheers from the crowd. Drake repeatedly slaps the canvas with both hands in frustration. He then gets up and begins yelling at the ref.

Grayson: Just stay down!

Clement: Cami will not stay down. She will not cower to The Murder. She will not back down. And if she goes down, she'll go down fighting.

Grayson: Well isn't that just sweet.

Dom Harter can be seen making his way down to the ring to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: Hey, look who decided to join?

Clement: The ref needs to stop Harter right in that aisle and turn him around. Do not let that man near ringside.

Drake picks up Cami and delivers a vertical suplex. He then turns over, gets up to his feet and stumbles into the ropes. When Drake comes back, he goes for a jumping knee drop. But Cami rolls out of the way, causing Drake to land knee-first on the canvas. The crowd cheers.

Clement: Drake misses the knee drop! Cami's got her opening! She's got time to get back up to her feet.

As Drake gets back up, Cami lifts up his leg and throws him down with a dragonscrew leg whip. The crowd cheers. Drake gets back up, but Cami runs over and delivers a dropkick to the leg, knocking Drake back down to cheers from the crowd. As Drake gets up, Cami runs towards the ropes. She then deliver two handsprings into a spinning back elbow to cheers from the crowd. As Drake tries to get up, Cami nails him with a spinning high kick to the head to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Cami just clocked Drake in the side of that head with that kick! It may be lights out for the Head Crow!

She makes the cover.

ONE!
.
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TWO!
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Drake gets his shoulder up to boos from the crowd.

Cami picks up Drake and goes for an irish whip. But Drake reverses, sending Cami into the ropes. When Cami comes back, she takes Drake down with a tilt-a-whirl headscissors takeover. The crowd cheers. Drake gets up, but Cami knocks him down with a dropkick to cheers from the crowd. Drake gets back up, but Cami knocks him back down with another dropkick to cheers from the crowd. As Drake gets back up, Cami goes for a third dropkick. But Drake sidesteps and swats her down. The crowd boos. As Cami gets up on all fours, Drake runs over and nails her with a punt kick to the head.

Grayson: Aaaaaaand... the kick is good!

The crowd boos as he makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Cami gets her shoulder up to cheers from the crowd. Drake tugs at his hair while Harter repeatedly slaps the canvas in frustration.

Crowd: CAMI! CAMI! CAMI! CAMI! CAMI!

Clement: This New Jersey crowd is solidly behind Camellia D. Magna. They want to see her come out on top. They want to see her knock that bully Malcolm Drake right out!

Drake picks up Cami and goes for a vertical suplex. But Cami slips down from behind and rolls him up in an O'Connor Roll. The crowd cheers.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Drake kicks out. The momentum sends Cami stumbling forward. But Cami uses that momentum to leap through the ropes and knock Harter down with a suicide dive. The crowd cheers.

Grayson: The hell?

Clement: Cami getting creative with the offense now. And she knocks down that CLB before he could get his paws on her.

Cami then climbs back up onto the apron. Drake runs over to attack, but Cami ducks and nails him with another shoulder thrust through the ropes. As Drake stumbles back, Cami prepares to fly. But Harter reaches up and grabs her ankle to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: You were saying?

But the boos turn to cheers as Cami uses her free leg to kick Harter off of her. When she turns around, Drake charges forward. But Cami nails him with a forearm smash to cheers from the crowd. As Drake stumbles back, Cami springboards onto the top rope, leaps off and knocks him down with a missile dropkick to cheers from the crowd. She makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Drake gets his shoulder up to boos from the crowd.

Cami picks up Drake and whips him into the ropes. When Drake comes back, Cami knocks him down with a jumping calf kick. The crowd cheers as she makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Drake gets his shoulder up as the crowd sighs.

Clement: Another near fall for Cami!

After picking Drake up, Cami throws a kick to the midsection. Drake catches her foot. But Cami counters with an enzuigiri that sends him flipping down to the canvas. The crowd cheers. She then heads over and steps out onto the apron. Once Drake gets up and turns around, Cami goes for the Snapdragon Fire. But Drake counters by throwing her down with a powerbomb. The crowd boos.

Grayson: Malcolm Drake almost threw Cami through the canvas with that powerbomb! Did you hear that impact?

Clement: Yeah..... I heard it.....

Drake then picks up Cami, hoists her up across his shoulders and plants her with the Momento Mori to boos from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

"Man in the Box" blares throughout the building to boos from the crowd.

Cruz: Here is your winner, MALCOLM DRAKE!

Drake gets up to his feet as Harter rolls into the ring. The crowd boos as the two members of The Murder proceed to circle Cami, waiting impatiently to strike.

Clement: Malcolm Drake gets the win. But of course that's not enough for him. He wants to hurt Cami. He wants to maim her.

The boos then turn to cheers as Pat Gordon, Jr, Bob Pooler and Kevin Hardaway race down to the ring; each with steel chairs in hand. As soon as they slide into the ring, The Murder quickly bails to the outside. Drake tugs at his anger in anger while Harter runs over and kicks the barricade.

Grayson: Well isn't that sweet?

Clement: Pat Gordon, Jr, Bob Pooler and Kevin Hardaway got in that ring just in time! Who knows what those two sick freaks had planned.

Grayson: They may have saved Cami. Its just too bad that they won't be able to save themselves at Only The Strong Survive.

[FGA Office]

Clement: Next Sunday, FGA presents Only the Strong Survive. Our latest supershow will be taking place at the Case Gym at Boston University. Two titles will be on the line. A shot at the gold will be up for grabs. And a war will be waged in the middle of the ring.

In the opening contest, Tigre Oro faces off against Johnny Blayze.

Grayson: This match was supposed to be Tigre finally getting his hands on Jonathan Collins. But after the "Saint of Violence" suffered various injuries at EXODUS' "Invicinble" iPPV that left him in a coma, Collins' newest disciple has taken his place in this match.

Clement: I still can't wrap my head around Blayze's latest behavior and his cult-like devotion to Jonathan Collins. In the next match, Pat Gordon, Jr and Bob Pooler will finally go to war inside the ring with The Murder.

Grayson: This is a match that has been building for three months now. All of these combustible elements in one ring? I expect an explosion of epic proportions before it's all said and done.

Clement: In the first of two championship matches, Kevin Hardaway defends his Pride Championship against Chandler Scott.

Grayson: Chandler has the chance to make history by winning the Pride Championship. But that's all secondary to him getting one over on Hardaway and, as he put it, sending him packing.

Clement: In one of the marquee matches of the evening, it's the Gold Rush Rumble. Nearly two dozen FGA grapplers will battle it out for a shot at the FGA Championship.

Grayson: It will be friend vs. friend. Foe vs. for. Every man... AND woman for themselves. Who will be the last grappler standing? I can't wait to find out.

Clement: And in the main event, the undefeated Chris Q defends his FGA Championship against Chris Bond.

Grayson: A win here will not complete Bond's path to redemption. But it will go one heck of a long way. Unfortunately for him, this match will not have a storybook ending for him as the BIG BAD of FGA, Chris Q will once again walk out the winner. And The Chris Q Party will keep on rolling and rolling and rolling.

[FGA Office]

("The Earth’s Rotation Around the Sun" begins blasting through the speakers. From the top of the entrance, Chris Q walks out as the FGA audience explodes with boos. Embracing the negativity from the audience, Chris Q makes his way to the ring while getting into the faces of a few fans. He has the FGA Championship over his shoulder and he is also carrying a black bag as he climbs the steps and enters the squared circle. The fans haven’t stopped booing, but Chris asks for a microphone and plants himself in the center of the ring. His music comes to a close as Q looks out at the crowd with an arrogant smile plastered across his face.)

Chris Q: Last week I sat on the sidelines and watched as three ‘contenders’ fought it out for a shot at my title. None of them stood out to me. Braydon Jones…he’s decent, but certainly no contender to the FGA Championship. Camellia D. Magna, I honestly haven’t seen a damn thing you’ve done in this company. I didn’t even know you worked here until the last event. Truth is, you’ll never get a shot at the title, so I won’t even bother worrying about you. Chris Bond, you emerged as the number one contender and now I have my first real test as FGA Champion. Well…I’m hoping it’s a test…

(The fans continue to boo the arrogant FGA Champion. Chris Q smirks at the crowd before bringing the microphone back up to his lips.)

Chris Q: I’m not really sold on Chris Bond. He might have an impressive history in this business, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. I have taken on the best in this company and have yet to be pushed to my limits. That’s why I’d like to invite Chris Bond to the ring at this time. I’d like to take this opportunity to get to know my challenger a little bit better before we do battle at Only the Strong Survive. Bond, get your bitch ass out here…

(Chris Bond makes his way down to the ring to cheers from the crowd. Bond looks ready to tear into Q, but keeps his composure as he slowly walks to the ring. Q seems to be growing impatient. Bond finally gets into the ring. Q looks at him and then back at his FGA Championship. Q doesn’t look impressed.)

Chris Q: Tell me, Bond, what makes you think you're ready? I've done everything there is to do in Frontier Grappling Arts. I've gone undefeated, I've destroyed former champions and I have made everyone in this company my bitch. What the fuck are you going to offer me?

(Bond smirks and shakes his head. He rubs his chin for a moment before bringing a microphone up to his lips.)

Chris Bond:You want to know what I have to offer you? As if I'm going into this match with something to lose? You've said it yourself, Q. You've gone undefeated. You've destroyed former champions and made everyone in this company your bitch. I don't have a damn thing to offer you. But you on the other hand... you have something VERY SPECIAL to offer me...

(Bond smiles and continues on having just pointed to the FGA Championship belt.)

Chris Bond: You have everything to lose heading into Only the Strong Survive. You have your undefeated streak. You have that aura you've created about yourself. This essence of being "The Big Bad"... and you have that beautiful piece of gold. If I lose, it's just another loss for me. You on the other hand... YOU LOSE YOUR ENTIRE SELF.

(Q smirks at Bond, like the entire thing is a joke, before bringing the microphone to his mouth again.)

Chris Q: And that sounds like a whole lotta shit I've heard before. Bond, you have to be willing to do everything that I do to win this match. Do you think you're ready for something like that? Do you really think you can do what I do?

(Again, Bond finds himself shaking his head.)

Chris Bond: That's just the thing, Q. I don't have to do anything and everything. I just have to beat you.

Chris Q: If you want to beat me, you have to go as far as I go. Are you willing to do that?

(Bond nods, agreeing finally with the Champion.)

Chris Bond: Yes.

(The arrogant grin of the FGA Champion grows wider.)

Chris Q: Then it starts right now. You join in on the Chris Q party.

(Chris pulls a bottle of Crown Royal out of the bag. He holds it right in front of Chris Bond.)

Chris Q: You're about to have a drink with the FGA Champion. Hope you can keep up, bitch...

(Bond shakes his head.)

Chris Bond: You think this is some joke?

Chris Q: My entire time in this company has been a fucking joke to me. I've stumbled into every single match and now I'm the top guy in this organization. The question still stands, Bond, could you do what I do?

(Bond laughs to himself.)

Chris Bond: The question isn't COULD I... the question is WOULD I.

Chris Q: And the answer will always be no. Because nobody can do what I do. I've made a fucking name for myself by being a cocky, arrogant, drunk, piece of shit that says and does whatever the fuck I want to do. That's what it takes to be where I am, Bond.

(Chris Q starts to pour a drink for himself and the challenger.)

Chris Bond: You want to know if I'd be willing to let my entire world come crashing down to be where you are right now?

(Bond eyes the bottle pouring into the glasses.)

Chris Q: Finally, I feel like you're keeping up...

(Bond licks at his lower lip, eyes constantly focused on the bottle of Crown Royal. He rubs his fingers together, almost ancy to get at that drink. Q hands him a glass.)

Chris Q: Are you ready to feel like a fucking champion?

(Bond takes the glass, his hand slightly trembling under the weight of a massive decision. The fans in attendance take a moment to let their displeasure known, booing the idea for the recovering alcoholic to take a sip. Bond brings the glass up to his nose, engulfing the scent of such a powerful substance.)

Chris Q: Like I said, there is only one man who can do what I do.

(Bond pulls the glass closer to his lips, eyeing the Champion and listening to the discourse from the crowd.)

Chris Q: One man who can constantly party and still get up for work to kick ass....

(Bond's hunger for the drink becomes ever so powerful. He brings the glass up to his lip, slowly tilting the glass and it's contents. He slowly parts his lips... the booing crowd becoming even more reckless.)

Chris Q: Fucking drink it, man. Stop being a fucking pussy.

(Bond lowers the glass, eyes wide with rage as Q scoffs at Bond's battle with his most powerful demon.)

(The crowd lets out a small cheer, as Bond slowly holds the glass up looking into its contents.)

Chris Bond: You want me to stop being a fucking pussy, Q? You want me to do anything and everything to become the NEXT FGA Champion? Alright... but I want you to know, you asked for what is about to happen.

(Bond smirks, dropping the microphone and turning away from the Champion. He holds his glass high into the air, the crowd booing as Bond brings it down and towards his mouth. Q smirks at Bond, presuming to have broken him. But Bond stops the glass, mere centimeters from his mouth. He looks out into the crowd and smirks, before turning towards the Champion and throwing the glass' contents directly into the face of the reigning Champion's face! The crowd erupts into a massive chorus of cheers. Bond smirks as he slowly sets the glass on the table.)

(Chris Q takes a moment to realize what just happened. A smile starts to form on his face and he starts to lick the whiskey away from his mouth, his tongue moving like an animal. The crowd boos Q. He wipes the rest of the liquor from his face before bringing the microphone to his mouth again. He smiles at Bond and looks like he is going to speak again, only to take the bottle of Crown Royal and smash it over the head of Chris Bond! The crowd explodes with boos as Bond drops to the mat and glass shatters all around him.)

Chris Q: That was a mistake, Bond. You should’ve just had a drink with the FGA Champion and done as you were told. Now I had to embarrass you in front of this entire crowd. Don’t you understand that’s what I do to people? Just for once, I thought I could come to the ring, enjoy myself, and exit the ring without having to leave a body.

(The hatred for Chris Q is overwhelming. The noise in the building is deafening as the fans continue to boo.)

Chris Q: Let me tell you something. There is nothing you could do that would put you on my level. Face it, nobody is going to stop The Big Bad. I will continue to dominate Frontier Grappling Arts until I get bored and decide to retire. This was just a small taste of the Chris Q party. How do you think you’re going to handle it when the gold is one the line? Believe me, the party gets much more intense than this, Bond.

(Q looks down at Bond and all of the broken glass surrounding his body. He then looks at the FGA Championship and slowly lifts it into the air as the people continue to boo.)

Chris Q: …and now I have to go buy another bottle.

(Q drops the microphone onto the mat as “The Earth’s Rotation Around the Sun” begins to play again. Chris continues to hold his championship high above his head, much to the displeasure of the crowd. He slowly starts to leave the ring and make his way towards the back as the scene fades to black.)