Battleground 1.1

[FGA Office]

Jimmy Page vs. Sean Sands

As the opening beat of "Rise" by Skillet hits, the crowd begins to cheer as they await for the very liked face that is Sean Sands. The black curtains are opened and most of the fans can see a man standing behind them. Sean Sands, with his regular in-ring attire, steps out from behind the ring curtains and looks out at the crowd, smiling.

Cruz: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Cincinnati, Ohio! Weighing in at 215 pounds... SEAN SANDS!

He does not stand at the top of the ramp for long, quickly making his way down the ramp. He high fives a few fans along the way and eventually pulls off his t-shirt and either tosses it into the crowd, or hands it to someone in the front row.

Clement: Sean Sands did the impossible nearly three months ago when he defeated Chris Q for the FGA Heavyweight Championship.

Grayson: Then he turned right back around and did what everyone expected, and that's lose that belt right back to Chris Q!

Clement: People like you and Dom and even Jimmy Page can mock Sands for losing that championship. But he's actually been to the top of the mountain. He did it by himself and that's something to be proud of. He may be out of the title picture. But Sands is going to do everything in his power to get back into that title picture. When he does, I have all the confidence in the world that he'll once again hold the big gold belt!

Grayson: Apparently FGA lets its commentators come on the air drunk...

The lights dim to darkness, an eerie tune begins to play as if it’s cuing up for something. Suddenly drums kick in with the distorted sounds. The lights flash along with the sounds of the heart pounding drums. “They Are Lost” by Last Remaining Pinnacle starts to play. Jimmy Page with a controlled stagger bursts through the curtains with his arms out. He raises his head as the camera zooms in on his face, a stoic expression is shown with him chewing frantically on a piece of gum. Dressed in his ring attire with a black, denim vest, he makes his way down towards the ring. He marches towards the front of the ring, take a running start and slides onto the apron, stopping in the middle.

Cruz: And his opponent, from Flint, Michigan! Weighing in at 230 pounds! He is the current Pride Champion... JIMMY PAGE!

A spotlight hits him as he glares around, almost in a scowl. He takes his time, talking to the crowd for a moment, mocking them. He stands up on the apron, and then makes his way to the apron on his left. He stands on it talking to the crowd so more, shouting at them, he spits his gum out towards them and leaps down. Taking his denim jacket off, he throws it recklessly towards the ground. He walks to his corner and sits down on the middle turnbuckle, his right hand resting on his cheek nonchalantly as he awaits the bell.

Clement: Jimmy Page had an impressive 2013. He even won the Pride Championship. But apparently that's not enough for him!

Grayson: Of course it's not enough! If someone should be universally praised, it should be Page, not someone the likes of Sean Sands. But it's just like Page said. No matter how much blood he sheds, he'll never be accepted like Sands.

Clement: Instead of crying over the fans and awards he didn't win, he should be focused on keeping that Pride Championship.

Grayson: Please, don't even bring her into this...

The bell sounds as both men rush towards the center of the ring. The crowd cheers as Sands spears Page down to the mat.

Clement: And we're underway... and neither man wastes any time as these two have gone right at each other.

Grayson: They've each got a chip on their shoulder and something to prove. What more would you expect?

Sands immediately mounts himself on top of Page and hammers away with right hands to the face. But the crowd boos as Page rolls over, mounts himself on top of Sands and hammers away with right hands to the face. Sands then rolls back over, grabs Page by the hair and repeatedly rams the back of his head against the canvas. Page then turns over on top of Sands, grabs him by the hair and repeatedly slams the back of his head against the canvas. The two men continue to turn until they roll underneath the bottom rope and to the floor.

Clement: The action has spilled to the outside, Evan. This won't be good.

Grayson: Oh I agree. This won't be good for Sands at all.

Once both men get up, Page grabs Sands and whips him hard into the barricade. The crowd boos as Sands arches his back in pain. Page then darts over and sends Sands over the barricade and into the crowd with a lariat. Page then turns and begins to argue with members of the front row. But when he turns around, Sands runs through the crowd, leaps over the guard rail and knocks him down with the Sands Kick to cheers and applause from the crowd.

Crowd: SANDS! SANDS! SANDS! SANDS!

Clement: What agility shown there by Sean Sands, kicking Page in mid air as he dove and cleared the barricade.

Sands picks up Page, slams his head against the apron and rolls him back into the ring. Sands then rolls himself back in and makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Page kicks out.

Sands picks up Page and knees him in the midsection, doubling him over. He then grabs Page and tosses him through the ropes and to the floor.

Clement: Now we've gone back to the floor.

Grayson: The ref may not be able to control these two if things keep up at this pace.

As Page slowly gets up on the outside, Sands runs into the ropes. When Sands comes back, he goes for a baseball slide. But Page moves out of the way. After Sands lands on his feet, Page grabs him by the hair and throws him down with a mat slam. The crowd boos as Sands clutches his back of his head in pain. Page goes back over towards Sands and puts the boots to him. He then picks up Sands, only to plant him with a snap DDT to boos from the crowd. Page picks up Sands and rolls him back into the ring. Page then rolls himself back in and makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Sands gets his shoulder up.

Clement: Page has beaten Sean Sands previously. In fact, he was the one that not only ended Sands' streak, but he also handed Sands his first singles loss in FGA. Can he do it again?

Grayson: Of course he can. Just take a look at what's going on in the ring.

Page picks up Sands and delivers a headbutt, sending him stumbling into the corner. As Page approaches, Sands throws out a kick to the midsection. He then throws out another kick. But Page swats it down and then delivers a double chop to the throat. Page then lunges forward, choking Sands with both hands to boos from the crowd. The ref gives him until the count of five to break the hold.

ref: ONE... TWO... THREE.... FOUR...

Page lets go. He nails Sands with a forearm strike, followed by an elbow strike. Page sizes up Sands before nailing him with another forearm strike. He followed up with another elbow strike to boos from the crowd. Page then takes Sands and whips him into the opposite corner. Page runs across the ring and goes for a running big boot. But Sands ducks and runs out of the way, causing Page's leg to get caught over the top rope. When Sands comes back, he runs across the ring, springboards onto the middle rope and knocks down Page with a Lip Buster to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: A hard kick to the face there by Sands, knocking Page down and to the outside...

Grayson: He may not be done yet...

As Page rolls to the outside, Sands runs into the ropes. When Page turns around, Sands runs over and knocks him down with a suicide dive through the ropes.

Crowd: SANDS! SANDS! SANDS! SANDS!

Sands picks up Page and whips him into the barricade. The crowd cheers as Page arches his back in pain. Sands then runs down the ringside area and connects with a bicycle kick, knocking Page over the barricade and into the crowd. The crowd cheers.

Clement: The action spills into the crowd again as Sands kicks Page over the barricade!

Grayson: Where was this mean streak at Final Frontier? Maybe if he did this against Chris Q, he'd still be the champion.

Clement: Oh stop!

After playing up to the crowd, Sands makes his way back over towards the barricade. He goes to pick up Page, but Page nails him with the Aneurysm to boos from the crowd. Page gets back up, grabs Sands and delivers a neckbreaker across the top of the barricade. The crowd boos as Sands clutches his neck in pain.

Clement: What sick move by Jimmy Page! He just delivered a neckbreaker across the top of the barricade! He could have injured Sands!

Grayson: I'm sure that was the point. Besides, it's perfectly legal, so what are you crying about?

After climbing over the barricade, Page picks up Sands and rolls him back into the ring. After rolling Sands back into the ring, Page picks him up and delivers the The Paralyzing to boos from the crowd.

Clement: Page with yet another neckbreaker! Apparently one across the barricade wasn't enough. He makes the cover...

ONE!
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TWO!
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Sands gets his shoulder up.

Page picks up Sands and slams his head into the top turnbuckle. Sands bounces off the turnbuckle, stumbles away from the corner and drops down to one knee. Page goes over, picks up Sands, hoists him up and throws him down with a hotshot across the top rope. The crowd boos as Sands goes down, clutching his throat in pain. Page then bounces into the ropes. When he comes back, he connects with a leg drop to boos from the crowd. Page then turns over and makes the cover.

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TWO!
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Sands gets his shoulder up.

Clement: Sands is able to get his shoulder up once again. He's taken a tremendous amount of punishment already. But Sands refuses to stay down.

Grayson: If Page keeps up, Sands may not have much a choice but to stay down.

Clement: Page picks up Sands and whips him right into the corner.... he charges across the ring... but Sands nails him with an elbow right to the jaw.

Grayson: He's got Page stumbling back...

Clement: Sands turns around... springboards to the top turnbuckle.... and he hits a moonsault! Sands connects with the moonsault! This could be enough for three...

ONE!
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TWO!
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Page kicks out.

Sands picks up Sands and goes for an irish whip. But Page reverses, sending Sands into the ropes. When Sands comes back, Page bends over to set up a back body drop. But Sands jumps up and brings him down with a Fame Asser to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Well timed counter there by Sands! He saw his opening and he took advantage. But can he get the three count...

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TWO!
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Page kicks out.

Sands picks up Page, only to throw him back down with a scoop slam. He then steps through the ropes before he climbs the turnbuckles. Just as he's about to reach the top turnbuckle, Page runs up the turnbuckles, grabs Sands and throws him down with an exploder suplex to boos from the crowd. Page crawls over and makes the cover.

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

Page picks up Sands, lifts him up, runs across the ring and delivers a turnbuckle powerbomb to boos from the crowd. He then brings Sands from out of the corner, turns him around and delivers a half nelson suplex to boos from the crowd. As a groggy Sands rolls up onto his knees, Page runs int the ropes. When page comes back, he blasts Sands in the face with the Trauma Symphony to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: Turnbuckle powerbomb, followed by a half nelson suplex, followed by the Trauma Symphony? It's over, Kevin...

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

Clement: It is NOT over!

Grayson: Fine. He's only making this worse for himself...

Page gets up and stands over Sands. He leans over and shouts at Sands as he points at him. But the boos turn to cheers as Sands quickly reaches up and punches Page to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Good! That's what he gets...

As Page stumbles into the ropes, Sands slowly gets back up. But Page quickly runs over and brings him down with a swinging neckbreaker. He then picks Sands back up and whips him into the ropes. When Sands comes back, Page goes for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. But Sands counters with a headscissors takeover to cheers from the crowd.

Page gets up, but Sands nails him with a right hand... and another... and another. Before Sands can nail him with another punch, Page delivers a kick to the gut to boos from the crowd. He then hoists up Sands for another powerbomb. But Sands flips down from behind. When Page turns around...

Clement: PELE! Sands connects with the Pele Kick!

As Page gets back up, Sands rocks him with a roundhouse kick to cheers from the crowd. He then grabs Page lifts him up and plants him with a brainbuster to cheers from the crowd. Sands makes the cover...

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

Clement: I thought that was it.

Grayson: I thought Sands was going to get a fluke victory, too.

Clement: Oh stop!

Sands picks up Page, places him in a headlock and then brings him down with a bulldog. Sands then steps through the ropes, walks across the apron and begins to climb the turnbuckles. But Page darts across the ring, runs up the turnbuckles and hammers Sands with a barrage of forearm strikes. He then grabs Sands and delivers a double underhook suplex to boos from the crowd. Page goes over, picks up Sands and plants him with Nirvana to boos from the crowd. He makes the cover...

ONE!
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TWO!
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THREE!

“They Are Lost” blares throughout the arena to a blanket of boos.

Cruz: Here is your winner, JIMMY PAGE!

The crowd boos as the ref hands Jimmy Page his Pride Championship belt. Page heads into the corner, climbs up onto the middle rope, and raises his Pride Championship belt to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: That's now two losses to Jimmy Page for Sean Sands. I'd say better luck next time, but we already know how that will go, now don't we?

Clement: Sean Sands put up one hell of a fight. But Page was just a step faster, especially there at the end...

[Commercial Break]

[FGA Office]

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 wearing the IGNITE 24/7 Extreme Championship belt around his waist and the FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Championship belt slung over his shoulder. Drake stops beyond the curtain, casting wary sideways glances at the fans along ringside. He recoil from those fans that attempt to touch him, screaming at them along the way to the ring. Drake slides under 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. The crowd continues to boo as Drake received a microphone from ringside.

Malcolm Drake:  So THIS is the thanks I get? This is the thanks I get for bringing Frontier Grappling Arts out of the darkness and onto television? Hmmm? When I walked into this company a little over a year ago, it was squandering in the mediocrity, waddling in its own failure. I walked through those doors and said “professional wrestling as you know it, is dead.” The Murder. It's more than just a clever name... we KILLED what you THOUGHT professional wrestling was: bingo halls, garbage matches with garbage wrestlers. We dragged FGA out from the gutter. We saved FGA from itself... and THIS is the thanks I get? A chorus of boos from a group of drooling mouth-breathers?

The crowd reacts as expected with a full-throat cascade of jeers. Drake simply adjusts his title belts and waits for the crowd to quiet.

Malcolm Drake: I'd rather just said “Thank you,” and been on your way. Because what you FAIL to realize, what you FAIL to admit to yourselves is that you NEED us... you need The Murder. We are FGA's evolution. We are FGA's natural selection. The Murder remove the weak. We thin the herd. We purge FGA of the cancerous bodies that plague it. You are here because of us. You are here because of ME...

The crowd is not exactly tickled pink by that notion and resumes its booing frenzy.

Malcolm Drake: Pipe down, you ungrateful troglodytes. While you may have failed to see the Truth, the FGA officials did not. They gave Robert Pooler and myself a shot at the FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Championship... and naturally we dominated. We are the gold standard for tag team wrestling, not just here in FGA... but everywhere in the world.

Drake turns to the cameraman on the apron and gets in close to the lens.

Malcolm Drake: ...including any Kings or Dragons that choose to hide across the Atlantic.

Drake returns his focus back to the fans and the hard camera.

Malcolm Drake: Which is what brings me out here tonight. I'm not here to bask in the glow of the limelight that I created. According to some little birds, either the Usual Suspects or the... Super Mario Wrestling Bros... might be next in line for a shot at OUR titles.

Drake lifts the Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Championship belt off his shoulder and holds it high above his head.

Malcolm Drake: … and I just wanted to reminded them of their mortality. Memento mori.

Drake drops the microphone and keeps the Mid-Atlantic title suspended above his head for a few more beats before rolling out of the ring and heading over to the commentators table.

The Usual Suspects vs. Super Mario Wrestling Bros

"Rockit" begins to play over the speakers as the SMWB step through the curtain to cheers from the crowd. After looking around at the crowd and nodding their heads in approval, the SMWB jumps up and races down the aisle.

Cruz: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, coming in at a combined weight of 373 pounds. They are the team of Max Powers and Landon Knight... the SUPER MARIO WRESTLING BROS!

After sliding underneath the bottom rope and into the ring, they push themselves up and head into opposite corners. After climbing up onto the second rope and trowing their index finger in the air, they climb to the top turnbuckle and backflip off, landing safely on their feet in the ring to cheers.

Clement: As the Super Mario Wrestling Bros make their way to the ring, we're joined here on commentary by Malcolm Drake.

Drake: That's Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Champion, IGNITE 24/7 Extreme Champion and Head Crow of the Murder, Malcolm Drake.

Grayson: Get it straight, Kevin. That's no way to introduce an honored guest.

The guitar screech from the beginning of "Just Because" by Jane's Addiction blares over the house speakers, and the fans rise to their feet anticipating The Usual Suspects. Marx & Tryon step out from the entrance and stand in front of the smoked out curtains. Both men are dawning dark hooded sweatshirts that obscure their face over their singlets. The Usual Suspects stare out into the crowd, taking in the cheers, before they begin walking to the ring high fiving a few of the fans in the aisle way.

Cruz: And their opponents, coming in at a combined weight of 482 pounds! They are the team of Jason Marx and Chris Tryon... THE USUAL SUSPECTS!

Both men hop up onto the ring apron next and enter through the ropes.

Clement: And now the former FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team champions make their way to the ring.

Drake: Thank the Maker that I'm out here. Otherwise their wouldn't be a single wrestler anywhere remotely close to that ring.

The bell sounds as Max and Tryon start things off. The two men lock up. Tryon quickly places Max in a side headlock. But Max shoves Tryon off of him and into the ropes. When Tryon comes back, he sends Max down to the mat with a running shoulderblock. He then runs into the ropes as Max kips up. When Tryon comes back, Max leap frogs over him. Tryon continues to run into the ropes. When Tryon comes back, Max goes for a hip toss. But Tryon blocks it. So Max goes for another hip toss but again, Tryon blocks it. So Max punches him in the midsection, doubling him over. He then drapes his leg across the back of Tryon's neck and performs a backflip. But once Max lands on his feet, Tryon knocks him down with a clothesline to cheers from the crowd.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Max kicks out.

Clement: A near-fall there for the Usual Suspects.

Tryon picks up Max and whips him into the ropes. When Max comes back, Tryon drops down to the canvas. Max then hops over him and runs into the ropes. When Max comes back, Tryon gets up to his feet and quickly leap frogs over him. Max continues to run into the ropes. When Max comes back, Tryon knocks him down with a spin kick to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Max kicks out.

Tryon picks up Max, wrings his arm, drags him over towards the corner and tags in Jason Marx.

The crowd cheers as Marx gets in and delivers a double ax handle across Max's arm. He then takes the arm and yanks it into his own. The crowd continues to cheer as Max performs an arm wringer. The ref asks Max if he wants to give up. But Max refuses to quit. He then rolls forward, leans back, kips up and brings Marx to the ground with an arm drag. The crowd cheers. As Marx gets up, Max runs into the ropes. When Max comes back, Marx goes for a clothesline. But Max ducks and runs into the ropes, where Landon makes the blind tag. When Max comes back, he slides through Marx's legs. When Marx turns around, the SMWB take him down with a spinning heel kick/running legsweep combo to cheers from the crowd. Landon makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Marx kicks out.

Clement: Huge combo there from the Wrestling Bros, and Marx is barely able to kick out in time.

Grayson: Maybe he didn't drink enough Ensure with breakfast this morning.

Clement: What?

Drake & Grayson: Because he's old.

Landon picks up Marx, wrings his arm and follows up with a hook kick, sending Marx stumbling over towards the ropes. As Landon approaches, he tags Max back in. Once Max gets in, the SMWB take Marx and whip him into the ropes. When Marx comes back, the SMWB throw him down with a double hip toss, followed by a double cartwheel, followed by a double dropkick to the face. The crowd cheers as Max makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Marx kicks out.

Max picks up Marx and whips him into the ropes. When Marx comes back, Max leans over to set up a back body drop. But Marx counters with a knee lift that knocks him down. He then goes over, picks up Max and lifts him up for a vertical suplex. But Max slips down from behind, hops up onto Marx's shoulders and takes him down with an inverted hurricanrana to cheers from the crowd. After Landon steps into the ring and hoists himself up onto the middle ropes, the SMWB delivers the Mario Wrestling Party to cheers from the crowd. Max goes over and makes the cover...

ONE!
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TWO!
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Tryon breaks up the pin to cheers from the crowd.

Drake: Tryon is usually about as useful as tits on a bull, but he saved his grandpa right there. It is an absolute embarrassment that these two held The Murder's titles.

Grayson: I always recognized The Murder as the true champions.

Drake: If you don't pull your nose out of my ass, I'm doing to rip it off your face.

As Tryon exits the ring, Max picks up Marx, brings him into the corner and slams his head onto the top turnbuckle. He then tags Landon back in. After Landon slingshots himself back into the ring, he unleashes a series of knife-edge chops that echo throughout the arena. He then brings Marx from out of the corner and goes for an irish whip. But Marx reverses, sending Landon into the ropes. When Landon comes back, he goes for a cross body block. But Marx counters with a powerslam to cheers from the crowd. He hooks the leg...

ONE!
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TWO!
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Landon gets his shoulder up.

Marx heads over and tags Tryon back in. After Marx heads back over and grabs Landon by the legs, Tryon springboards up onto the top turnbuckle. Once Marx has Landon in position, The Usual Suspects deliver a catapult/flying clothesline combo to cheers from the crowd. Tryon makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Max breaks up the pin.

Clement: And the Usual Suspects come roaring back with a massive combination of their own. Back and forth action here on Battleground. Thanks again for tuning in!

Drake: Oh look, someone around here DOES know how to say thank you.

As Max heads back out onto the apron, Tryon picks up Landon and slams his head into the top turnbuckle. After turning Landon around, Tryon delivers four shoulder thrusts, followed by a backflip, followed by a running clothesline to cheers from the crowd. He then delivers alternating shoot kicks to the midsection, followed by a jumping back kick to the face. The crowd cheers as Landon slumps down into the corner. Tryon then makes his way towards the center of the ring... only to turn around, run and connects with a hangtime dropkick to cheers from the crowd. He drags Landon from out of the corner and makes the cover.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Landon gets his shoulder up.

Tryon picks up Landon and nails him with a knee strike to the midsection. He then whips Landon into the corner. Tryon runs into the corner, hops onto Landon and monkey flips him out of the corner to cheers from the crowd. While Landon is arching his back in pain, Tryon steps through the ropes and makes his way up to the top turnbuckle. But as Tryon gets to the top, Landon runs into the corner, leaps up onto the top ropes, hops onto Tryon and delivers an avalanche hurricanrana to cheers and applause from the crowd.

After looking around, Landon gets back up to his feet. He then springboards onto the top rope and goes for the Goomba Stomp. But Tryon rolls out of the way. After landing on his feet, the momentum sends Landon rolling forward. After getting back up, Landon turns around and runs over to Tryon. But Tryon knocks him down with a spinning heel kick to cheers from the crowd. After dragging Landon into position, Tryon springboards onto the top rope. He then leaps off, going for a frog splash to cheers from the crowd. But Landon gets his knees up, causing Tryon to crash right down across them.

Tryon rolls over and clutches his midsection in pain. While Tryon is down, Landon rolls out onto the apron. After pulling himself up using the ropes, Landon begins to climb the turnbuckles. Once he reaches the top, he goes for his own Frog Splash. But Tryon rolls out of the way, causing Landon to connect with nothing but canvas. The crowd cheers.

With both men down, the ref starts his count.

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

Both men appear to still be down and in a great deal of pain. Landon lays face-first on the canvas as Tryon turns from side to side...

Clement: Landon and Tryon are down in the ring, both struggling to respond to the count.

Drake: Good.

Grayson: Stay down!

Ref: …............. FIVE................... SIX..................

Landon is still face down as Tryon begins to turn over....

Ref: …......................... SEVEN........................

After both men slowly get up, Tryon throws out a shoot kick. Landon catches his foot, but Tryon quickly counters with an enzuigiri that sends him flipping down to the canvas. After getting up on all fours, Tryon begins to crawl over towards his corner. He then reaches up and tags in Marx.

The crowd cheers as Marx gets in. Landon runs over at him. But he runs into a clothesline to cheers from the crowd. Landon gets back up, but Marx whips him into the ropes. When Landon comes back, Marx throws him down with an overhead belly to belly suplex to cheers from the crowd. Max then springboards onto the top rope and leaps off, going for a flying double ax handle. But Max catches him on the way down with a punch to the midsection. While Max is doubled over, Marx throws him down with a double underhook suplex to cheers from the crowd. As Max slowly gets up and turns around, Tryon gets back in the ring, runs over and delivers a clothesline that sends both men over the top rope and to the floor. The crowd cheers...

Back in the ring, Marx picks up Landon and sets him up for a double underhook powerbomb. But Landon breaks free, counters with a standing double leg takedown and then catapults Marx into the crowd. As Marx turns around, Landon runs over, jumps and connects with the Tail Attack to cheers from the crowd. After bringing Marx from out of the corner, Landon kicks him in the midsection, lifts him up and throws him down with a Butterfly Bob-omb to cheers from the crowd.

ONE!
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TWO!
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Tryon breaks up the pin with a baseball slide to the back.

Clement: Tryon AGAIN with the save.

Grayson: These two are like cockroaches. You just can't seem to kill them.

Drake: YOU just can't seem to kill them, at least.

Tryon picks up Landon and goes for an irish whip. But Landon reverses, sending Tryon into the ropes. When Tryon comes back, Landon hoists him up and then knocks him down with a 1-Up Uppercut to cheers from the crowd.

Landon picks up Tryon and whips him into the corner. He then runs, jumps and goes for a flying discus punch. But Tryon moves out of the way, causing Landon to connect with nothing but the turnbuckles. As Landon stumbles back, Marx delivers a reverse german suplex, sending Landon flipping him in the air to cheers from the crowd. When Tryon turns around, Max delivers a shoulder thrust through the ropes. He then springboards onto the top rope and knocks him down with a Mushroom Stomp to cheers from the crowd.

Max goes over, spins Marx around and throws a punch. But Marx blocks it and knocks him down with a punch of his own. He then picks up Max and whips him into the ropes. When Max comes back, Marx bends over to set up a back body drop. But Max counters with an It's-A-Me-DT to cheers from the crowd. They then call for the Super Mash Melee to cheers from the crowd.

Landon picks up Marx and lifts him up onto his shoulders while Max climbs up to the top turnbuckle. Landon then runs across the ring and delivers a rolling fireman's carry slam, followed by a 450 splash from max, followed by a springboard phoenix splash by Landon to cheers from the crowd.

ONE!
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TWO!
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THREE!

"Rockit" plays to cheers from the crowd. 

Cruz: Here are your winners, the SUPER MARIO WRESTLING BROS!

The ref raises both Max and Landon's arms to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: And a HUGE upset as the Super Mario Wrestling Bros knock off the former FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Champions!

Grayson: Did that just happen? What?

Clement: Malcolm Drake, you could very well be looking at the next challengers to your FGA tag titles.

Drake shoots daggers at Clement before ripping off his headset. He stares up at the ring as Max and Landon celebrate, and defiantly holds the Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Championship belt over his head.

[FGA Office]

A pan through the crowd (briefly showing a fan in the midst of the capacity crowd sans-shirt with a purple felt top hat doing the Robot while everyone around him cheers, some holding up signs) pulls out, before a shot change to ringside. The commentary team can be heard over the PA system.

Clement:Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, we have a live audio interview with one half of the Shoot Kings, Madman Szalinski, who could not be here tonight...

Boos drown out the commentators at this point.

Grayson:Madman, you hearin' us?

Madman: Yo.

The crowd cheers at Madman's voice. A split-screen shows the live shot accompanied by a still photo of Szalinski coming off the second rope.

Clement: We can hear you! We're live!

Madman: Joy.

Szalinski sounds less than thrilled, although the crowd is still cheering for him somewhat.

Madman:I'm watching the show right now. Shout out to Muck Sticky over there in the Mad Hatter gear...

The crowd cheers louder, with some pointing out the man from the earlier shot (although the cameras do not pick him up again.)

Clement: Madman, if I may, I understand you have something to say tonight?

Madman: Yeah. I ain't mad, I get why I wasn't there tonight and it ain't a big deal.

Grayson: Please try to keep it clean tonight.

Madman: I've done kids' shows before. Chill the Fukushima out.

The commentary team has a mini-heart attack (Kevin trying not to corpse) to the crowd's cheers.

Clement: I know it's been a rough past couple of weeks for you, after Chandler Scott cost you the FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team titles in that Match of the Year for 2013, the Ultimate Endurance at Final Frontier. And I believe that's going to tie into whatever you have to say?

Madman: Probably. I mean, yeah it's been rough...but Graham and I are resilient. We can roll along with the punches and take whatever cards we're given and work with it. But there's a thing about this game.

At this point, television viewers are shown full clips of the Shoot Kings in the four-way Ultimate Endurance match with a logo in the corner indicating so.

Madman:Eventually, when you keep gettin' handed the two of clubs, the six of hearts, three of diamonds, the instructional card on how to play parcheesi, and the blank card at the end of the deck you use in case you happen to lose a card...you start to wonder why everyone else keeps getting three of a kinds and full houses. In other words, sooner or later you're sick of losing, and even sicker of losing when...and let's be honest here, people...you should have been winning. And I'm not talking about "oh, they got the better of me and I wasn't paying attention." I'll admit that we've slipped up. I've slipped up. We have taken clean, fair losses. But if you want to look at THOSE losses, and compare them to the number of times outside interference has cost us the match...I believe it's safe to say that we should be the FGA Mid-Atlantic Tag Team champions right now.

The crowd can be heard behind Madman's words, cheering for him.

Madman: BUT we're not. And here's the thing...I really don't care. That's the thing. I really don't give half a damn anymore about any of this.

A hushed boo and gasp mix falls over the crowd, even Clement and Grayson themselves fall silent. Clips are also shown of the Shoot Kings' wins by disqualification over Bloodbath & Beyond as well as Madman Szalinski over Jimmy Page.

Madman: I've been doing this for half of my life now. Literally. This business has been my life. And when my brothers who brought me into it lost their lives, they never were able to teach me the last lesson I had to learn from them about it. And that is simple: the business of professional wrestling is a damned Metroid. It saps the life force from every single human being stupid enough to be a part of it.

Everybody is dead silent. When the clips end, the TV goes back to a wide pan of the arena (after a brief shot of the front row reveals the younger fans mirroring the disappointment ringing in Szalinski's voice.)

Madman: It saps the morals from a person. It makes perfectly sane people like Tiffany Michaels join a cult. It devalues everybody's convictions of conscience. Men like Bob Pooler turn on friends just to get a sniff of greatness alongside vile creatures like the Murder. It even sucks the joy out of the sport. Damn, bro, I did everything I could to try and keep this sport alive. But when you have men like Chandler Scott involved in it...men who not only have the ability to succeed, but the complete lack of humility and responsibility that comes with handling success...it makes you just not give a damn anymore, honestly.

Grayson: ...what are you saying, Madman?

Madman: I'm saying that it's all irrelevant, brother. If Chandler hadn't interfered, someone else might have. If we had won the belts, we'd have probably been attacked afterwards. And if we made it out alive, we'd be walking into some kind of grade-A ass kicking on this show, because someone wanted to look good for TV. But you know what? That's been the Shoot Kings story ever since we got into FGA! We get our asses handed to us left and right, or even better...we get screwed out of winning! That's been the case in FRONTIER, in CWF-I, in every fucking company we ever worked for! You know something about being screwed out of titles? It's the third time since Halloween, and if I went back throughout my entire career we would be here all damn night. BUT...if I stop and think about it, I've won just as many as I've lost out on. So what if FGA is treating us as nothing more than polish...silver to their gold? That's been Madman Szalinski ever since Madman Szalinski was born. And I'm tired of it. I am sick and fucking TIRED of it!!!

Clement gasps, and those in attendance who are hardcore Shoot Kings fans roar loudly at this, and a handful of other fans join in as well. However, the cheers are not nearly as loud as they were to begin with, and Szalinski's rage pours out into the building through his voice.

Madman: I have given this business entirely too much to not have gotten SOMETHING back from it! I love every single fan who has ever supported me, but where was the support from FGA after Chandler Scott's interference? Where is our fair rematch, Kings versus Murder? Where is FGA management's official apology to the Shoot Kings? Where the hell were you? WHERE THE HELL WAS FGA WHEN WE NEEDED YOU? Is THIS what I've about fuckin' broke myself to pieces for? Is this what I've wasted my time on? Being forgotten in a flash?

Now the crowd begins to boo, looking around. We now go back to the announcer's table, where Grayson is facepalming.

Madman: I'm going to make this quick. The Shoot Kings don't have a whole lot of time or patience left. We're not wasting our time sitting at home. If you don't want to put us in a match, then we will just start doing it ourselves. Next week, the Shoot Kings are going to be in the parking lot and we are going to be waiting for anybody who has anything close to a problem with us. And if we see anybody who's wearing a Harvard jacket, I'm going to Scoopstone them on the god forsaken pavement. At this point, wins and losses are nothing. Championships and titles are just bling. We want that respect we thought we had already earned. Apparently, we need to remind the world why we're the Shoot Kings. You want it, you got it. Get mad, bitches.

The audio feed cuts out, leaving a confused crowd in its wake. Some cheer, some boo, but many simply murmur in questioning.

Clement:Well, folks, we apologize for that language used by Madman Szalinski...

Grayson: That's terrific, Madman's gonna get us kicked off the air on our very first show!

[Commercial Break]

[FGA Office]

MAIN EVENT
Kevin Hardaway vs. Bob Pooler

“Unleashed” blasts out of the speakers as the curtain is pulled back and out steps Pooler. Cellphone flashes illuminate him in an almost strobe light affect as he stands there soaking in the energy. He smiles as he hears the boos from the crowd.

Cruz: The following contest is your main event of the evening! It is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, now residing out of Boston, Massachusetts! Weighing in at 218 pounds! He is one half of the Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Champions... BOB POOLER!

He makes his way down to the ring as he recoils from the hands of those closest to the guard rail. He rolls under the bottom rope and stands up in the corner, a smirk on his face as he stretches his arms across his chest and awaits the start of the match.

Clement: Bob Pooler, with one hell of an assist from Chandler Scott, won recaptured the Mid-Atlantic Tag Team Championship at Final Frontier.

Grayson: You sound just like Madman Szalinski. "We could have won. We should have won." Buy you didn't win, know did you?

Clement: Thankfully, Chandler was promptly grabbed by security and thrown out of the building at Final Frontier. That man has no business here in FGA anymore. And if there is some justice in the world, we'll see The Shoot Kings back where they belong and that's in the Tag Title hunt.

Grayson: Look at you sucking up to them. You should be embarrassed.

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.

Cruz: And his opponent, from Baltimore, Maryland! Weighing in at 229 pounds... KEVIN HARDAWAY!

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.

Clement: Kevin Hardaway is making his in-ring return to FGA after a near six month absence. He's got some unfinished business with that man in the ring, Bob Pooler.

Grayson: What unfinished business? I thought that Pooler and The Murder finished things perfectly when they demolished Hardaway & friends inside Steel Cage Mayhem.

Clement: The only thing that was proven was that The Murder, surprise, needed to cheat and use their numbers to get the job done. Hardaway nearly went through all three members of The Murder that night. But he came up short. Tonight, there's no Steel Cage. Drake and Harter aren't in this match. It's just going to be Pooler and Hardaway, one on one...

The bell sounds as Pooler and Hardaway make their way to the center of the ring. The crowd cheers both men continue to argue back and forth.

Clement: There's definitely no love lost between these two. These two aren't strangers to each other at all.

But the cheers turn to boos as Pooler piefaces Hardaway.

Grayson: Ha, there you go, Pooler!

When Hardaway turns back towards him, Pooler delivers a slap across the face to even more boos from the crowd.

Clement: Can you believe that?

Grayson: Yes I can. Pooler has no respect for a guy like Harda-

When Hardaway turns back, he throws a haymaker. But Pooler ducks and counters with a kick to the midsection. He delivers a series of forearm strikes to the face before whipping Hardaway into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, Pooler goes for a rolling elbow. But Hardaway ducks and runs into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, he takes down Pooler with a Lou Thesz Press to cheers from the crowd. He then delivers a series of 12-to-6 elbows to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Pooler disrespected Hardaway early on. But he's paying for it now with those elbows to the face.

Hardaway picks up Pooler, runs into the corner and slams his head into the top turnbuckle. He then turns Pooler around and unleashes a series of shoot kicks to the chest. He then takes Pooler and whips him into the opposite corner. Hardaway then runs across the ring and goes for a corner shining wizard. But Pooler ducks and dumps Hardaway over the top rope and onto the apron. As Hardaway gets up, Pooler knocks him down with a springboard rebound dropkick to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: Hardaway is sent tumbling down to the outside. But Pooler isn't done yet...

As Hardaway gets up, Pooler runs into the ropes. When Pooler comes back, he runs and goes for a baseball slide. But Hardaway side steps and slides back into the ring. After Pooler lands on his feet, he hops up onto the apron. But Hardaway greets him with a shoulder thrust through the ropes, knocking him back down to the floor. Hardaway then runs into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, he runs, leaps through the ropes and knocks Pooler down with the GTFO~! to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Hardaway flies through the ropes, knocking down Pooler with his patented suicide dive! It doesn't look like he's lost a step at all.

Grayson: Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Hardaway picks up Pooler and rolls him back into the ring. After rolling himself back in, he makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Pooler kicks out.

Hardaway picks up Pooler and nails him with a headbutt, sending him stumbling into the ropes. As Hardaway approaches, Pooler pokes him in the eyes to boos from the crowd.

Clement: Oh come on, ref.

Grayson: What? I didn't see anything wrong.

Clement: How could you not?

Grayson: All I saw was Pooler executing a greco roman eye poke with perfect technique.

Clement: Oh stop!

Pooler then takes Hardaway and snapmares him over. After delivering a shoot kick to the back, Pooler nails him with a shoot kick to the face, knocking him down. Pooler then runs into the ropes. When he comes back, he connects with a jumping leg drop to boos from the crowd. Pooler makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Hardaway kicks out.

Clement: Pooler is doing a good job of controlling the action. And to think, Drake and Harter are nowhere to be found.

Grayson: You and everyone else needs to stop this nonsense. The Murder are talented wrestlers that can get the job done by themselves. But what's the point in that when you can easily gang up on someone?

Pooler picks up Hardaway and places him in a side headlock. But Hardaway shoves Pooler off of him and into the ropes. When Pooler comes back, Hardaway knocks him down with a standing shoulderblock to cheers from the crowd. Hardaway then runs into the ropes as Pooler kips up. When Hardaway comes back, Pooler knocks him down with a dropkick to boos from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
Hardaway kicks out.

Pooler picks up Hardaway and whips him into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, Pooler knocks him down with a rolling elbow to boos from the crowd. He makes the cover.

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

Pooler picks up Hardaway and goes for an irish whip. But Hardaway reverses, sending him into the corner. Hardaway runs into the corner. But Pooler quickly slips through the ropes and connects with a pendulum overhead kick to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: How about that counter from Pooler? That's what I love about seeing this guy wrestle. You never know what you're going to see from him in that ring.

Clement: I also know that I'll never seen one member of The Murder without the other.

Grayson: Here you go again...

After slingshotting back into the ring, Pooler connects with a European Uppercut before whipping Hardaway back into the previous corner. Pooler runs across the ring and connects with a hang time corner dropkick to boos from the crowd. After Hardaway crumbles from out of the corner, Pooler steps out onto the apron and waits for Hardaway to get back up. When Hardaway gets up and turns around, Pooler goes for a springboard clothesline. But Hardaway connects with a European Uppercut in mid air to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: Pooler went for that flying clothesline. But Hardaway had a different idea in mind as he knocked him out of the air with that uppercut!

Hardaway picks up Pooler and throws him down with a scoop slam. After stepping through the ropes, Hardaway climbs up to the top turnbuckle, jumps off and goes for a diving double foot stomp. But Pooler rolls out of the way. After Hardaway lands on his feet, his momentum sends him rolling forward. When Hardaway rolls up and turns around, Pooler tackles him down with the High Velocity Hug to boos from the crowd.

Grayson: Spear! Pooler nearly speared Hardaway right out of his boots!

Clement: K-Hard nearly got broken in half there with the High Velocity Hug! Could this be it...

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

Pooler picks up Hardaway and goes for an irish whip. But Hardaway reverses, sending Pooler into the ropes. When Pooler comes back, Hardaway throws him down with a back body drop to cheers from the crowd. Pooler gets up, but Hardaway knocks him down with a dropkick. Pooler gets up, but Hardaway knocks him back down with another dropkick to cheers from the crowd. As Pooler gets up, Hardaway snapmares him over before running into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, he connects with a bakatare sliding kick to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

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

Clement: Hardaway nailed him with that kick to the face, but Pooler was somehow able to get his shoulder up in time.

Hardaway picks up Pooler and goes for an irish whip...

Grayson: Pooler then runs across the ring... he goes for that running corner swinging clothesline

Clement: But Hardaway catches him in mid air and throws him down with a standing side slam!

As Pooler gets up, Hardaway hoists himself up onto the ropes. When Pooler turns around, Hardaway knocks him down with a diving European Uppercut to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

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

Hardaway picks up Pooler and goes for an irish whip. But Pooler reverses, sending him into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, Pooler goes for Dr. Teeth. But Hardaway catches his foot and then spins him around. When Pooler comes back, Hardaway connects with a spinning back fist to cheers from the crowd. After a spinning back kick to the midsection doubles Pooler over, Hardaway runs into the ropes. When Hardaway comes back, he connects with KTFO~! to cheers from the crowd. He makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!

"Violence (Enough is Enough)" blasts over the PA as the crowd erupts with cheers.

Cruz: Here is your winner, KEVIN HARDAWAY!

The ref raises Hardaway's arm to cheers from the crowd.

Clement: He's done it! Kevin Hardaway is victorious in his FGA return!

Grayson: Luck! That's all it was. I'm sure of it!

Clement: You can call it what you want. But Hardaway starts off his return on the right foot, winning the first ever main event on Battleground!

[Fade Out]

[FGA Office]

[After The Show]

(The show cuts backstage; there's a door which is slightly ajar, a stream of liquid flowing out from within the room. Two members of The Murder, Malcolm Drake and Bob Pooler, stumble upon the scene and peek their heads inside the door to see what's going on.)

Bob Pooler: Damn...

(He says as his eyes fall towards the floor, where his friend and team mate, Dom Harter is laid out, unconscious and bleeding from a cut in his forehead. A pool of broken glass and whiskey, now mixed with blood, surrounding him on the floor. Malcolm leans over him and slaps him once across the cheek.)

Malcolm Drake: Wake up, Dominic.

(He demands, but there's no response.)

Bob Pooler: I'll go find the medical staff.

(Pooler says before leaving the room. Drake looks down at the prone Harter, the crimson mask thickening by the second as the scene comes to an end.)