Combat Card
Match 1
Non Title – Winner decides stipulation for Triple Crown match
PG13 vs Trent Darby
PG-13 and Darby lock up to begin the match, as Lux stares at both men while PG manages to use his strength in order to get tue advantage. Pushing Darby to the ground, PG glances across at the guest referee, smirking before landing a boot to the head of the rising Darby, before lifting him up and going for a spinebuster, only for Darby to counter and instead connect with a DDT. Rising instantly, Trent pays no attention to Lux before hitting PG with a spinning heel kick, sending him back down to the mat with a thud. He then connects with a knee drop to the downed PG, this time turning and getting in the face of Lux, who just laughs at him in response. Turning, he notices PG getting back to his feet, but is too late to prevent him from wrapping his arms around Darby's waist and hitting a belly to belly suplex that sends the latter man across the ring and almost under the bottom rope. He makes his way back to his feet, charging at Darby and knocking him back down to the mat with a pounce-like move before lifting him and hitting another Belly to belly suplex. His eyes briefly look at Xavier, before he shakes his head and returns his focus to Trent, stomping down on his prone body then lifting him to his feet, only to nail him with a sidewalk slam. Covering, he gets a 1 and a half count, albeit a little slower than expected.
Arthur: Lux getting himself involved almost immedately. He's letting both men know he isn't gonna let them dictate the terms for the impending title match.
Alex: He warned them earlier in the night, and now he's simply following through with his words.
Frustrated, he knows that his primary focus needs to remain on the task at hand. As such, he simply waits for Trent to stand back up, knee him in the stomach when he does before dropping him to the mat with a powerbomb, following up with a pointed elbow drop, causing Trent to cough before PG hits a knee drop to the head, then lifting him, only for Trent to use rapid fire forearm strikes to break himself free and opening up room for a dropkick to send PG to the mat. Trying not to divert his attention from PG, Darby raises him to his feet, dropping him with a snap suplex before maintaining the hold for a 2nd, but decides to finish the chain with a DDT instead of a 3rd suplex. Rolling over PG's body, his eyes meet Luxes, who steps forward to ensure Trent follows the rules, much to the latter's chargin. Thankfully for Darby though, it doesn't enable PG to gain any momentum as Darby bounces off the ropes and connects with a shining wizard before dropping down into a pin, which Lux reluctantly counts to 1 and 3/4.
Arthur: You can tell there's frustration building in Darby and even PG, yet they realise that they cannot afford to let their emotions get the best of them.
Alex: You and I both know that is easier said than done though, even if I do agree with you.
Arthur: It doesn't really matter whether it is easier said than done though. You should know that, considering what is at stake here.
Alex: True. We'll have to see which one of these 2 are able to notice that.
Jawing off at Lux, believing that he is screwing him on purpose, Xavier laughs before dropping him with a clothesline and stomping on him, before doing the same to PG once he rises, then just rolling outta the ring and heading backstage, leaving the 2 men on the mat in his wake.
Arthur: ... Or Lux can just decide he's had his fun and send his own message.
Alex: It was always likely gonna come to this.
Luckily for them however, just as they make their way back to their feet, another referee slides into the ring, with Darby hitting a leg lariat to PG as the latter attempted a pop up powerbomb before hitting him with a standing moonsault. Smirking, he then lifts PG to his feet, hitting him with a codebreaker before dropping down for the pin, getting a 2 count in the process.
Arthur: Darby looking to pick up the pieces here and finish PG off.
Signalling the end here Darby grabs PG-13 and whips him into the ropes… INTO PROTOCOL!
1….
2…
3…
Alex: THAT MEANS THAT DARBY WILL GET TO ANNOUNCE THE STIPULATION!!!
Match 2
Caleb Scott vs Mark Zout
Higgins: "What a match between Trent Darby and PG-13! I can't wait to learn what the stipulation for the Triple Crown is going to be!"
Glass: "You got that right, Alex. Those two took the fight to each other. And now we're about to see two more guys who promised a brawl to remember."
Higgins: "The former Global Champion, Caleb Scott, takes on newcomer to the IIW, Mark Zout."
Glass: "Let's see where this goes!"
Langston: "The next match is a singles match scheduled for one fall and will be officiated by referee Joe Trotter."
The lights of the arena lower and our ears are met with the electronic rock of Fireflight's Unbreakable. A single spotlight finds a figure emerging from the back in black and green wrestling tights, shirtless on top. He spreads his arms open wide before starting down the entrance ramp. Along his way several young fans have their hands outstretched over the barricade and Zout jogs alongside them, handing out high fives to all takers.
Langston: "Introducing first; from Seattle, Washington, standing at five feet, ten inches, and weighing one hundred sixty-five pounds... He is Every Cool Kid, MARK ZOUT!"
Upon reaching the side of the ring, Zout slides in head first under the bottom rope and mounts the turnbuckle on hard camera side. He stretches his arms outward and pumps them up several times in succession, the crowd cheering in response. We hear the music fade and the spotlight goes dim while Zout moves to the corner indicated by Trotter.
The crowd hushes in anticipation before Rotting Christ's Ze Nigmar takes over the speakers. We see four hooded drudges emerge from the back in two rows of two, the Torches they hold providing the only light in the arena. When the drums to the song kick in, the single spot light looks to the entrance stage in a single concentrated beam. A thick bog of eery fog fills the entryway and into it and the light, from the back, emerges Caleb Scott, chain-wrapped baseball bat in hand. He points the blunt object around the arena to sensational pop of the audience before slowly starting down the entrance ramp. As he walks, two single-file torch-bearing drudges on either side, low fires ignite along the entryway as he walks.
Langston: "And his opponent; hailing from Saint Cloud, Minnesota, standing at six feet tall and weighing one hundred, ninety-five pounds, previously a Global Champion... He is The Granite City Sadist, CALEB SCOTT!"
The crowd pops again with the announcement. As Scott approaches the ring he ceremoniously lays his chain-wrapped baseball bat atop the steel steps at ringside and walks up the steps, entering the ring. Walking through the center of the ring, Scott makes his way to the ropes, mounting the middle one, and throws his arms out wide, his throat erupting with a guttural scream.
Scott makes his way to his corner as indicated by officiating referee, Joe Trotter. Trotter is quick to go over the rules with the two men before signaling to the Time Keeper to begin the match.
Higgins: "Oh boy, ABG! The crowd is electric. You can just feel it!"
Glass: "Yeah, Alex. These two aren't known for having any quit. We're about to see a war unfold."
The bell rings and without hessitation the two men close in stature and weight explode from their respective corners, colliding in the center of the ring where they vie for an advantage in a Collar-Elbow Tie-Up. Zout gives up a step as Scott pushes forward, then another. It isn't long before Scott has Zout pressed against the ropes. Zout uses the leverage of the ropes and his own dexterity to bound forward off the ropes, slipping out of the hold, and manages to grasp the elbow and wrist of Scott. Employing the momentum already accrued from the previous maneuver, Zout whips Scott past himself, sending him bounding off the ropes opposite those he had been trapped against a moment sooner. Scott returns from the ropes, looking to meet Zout in the center of the ring, but Zout jumps vertically with split legs. Scott thinks quickly to avoid a Lou Thesz Press and ducks under his opponent, bounding again off the ropes, this time by choice. As he returns again he quickly jumps over Zout, who throws himself at Scott's feet in an attempt to trip him. When Scott returns from his third excursion to the ropes, Zout meets him before the center of the ring, sending him flipping high into the air with a Hip Toss. The impact of Scott landing supine against the canvas in the centeris the first sound louder than the stomping of the men's feet as they ran across the ring. The mixed reaction of the crowd is the second. Scott puts a hand to his back, wincing only slightly from the blow as he stands and Zout squats into a ready position, taunting his opponent to come at him again.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott showing an early advantage in strength here tonight, but Mark Zout is quick to display his speed."
Glass: "That's all poppies and roses, but I'm not sure taunting a guy like Caleb Scott is the most intelligent thing to do, however bold."
Higgins: "Right you might be, ABG. Let's have a look and see how this match unfolds."
Scott exchanges his wince for a determined nod, pulling his hand away from his back, and closes in on Zout with a brisk - not to be confused with reckless - pace. Zout meets him in the center of the ring with a Collar-Elbow Tie-Up for the second time. In a flash, Zout drops to one knee, again slipping one arm free. He hooks the inside thigh of Scott, looking to deliver a Fireman's Carry, or perhaps a Leg Sweep, but the audience will never know which. Scott is ready for the technical wrestler's antics and stifles his advance by sprawling his legs out straight behind himself and pressing the weight of his chest down onto Zout's back, forcing Zout into a prone position on the mat. More quickly than his opponent can anticipate, Scott spins to a rear-mounted position atop Zout and connects two sharp right elbows to the back of Zout's head. It is Zout's turn now to wince with the impact of each blow, but he has no time to rest during the assault. Zout finds a weakness in Scott's mount and forcibly pivots his own hips so he is in a seated position with his opponent still behind him. Scott attempts to cinch in a Sleeper Hold, but Zout is prepared for this and slips into a supine position and lands his left kickpad against the top of Scott's head. Scott reels back only slightly from the quick leg strike, but Zout seizes the opportunity to bridge onto his own head and throws his feet backward, landing so that he is again on his feet, just behind and slightly to the side of his opponent. Scott, not to be left in a disadvantageous position, pivots on a knee and lunges forward at Zout with a Double Leg Takedown. Zout is not taken by surprise, and sidesteps his opponent's lunging drive. Scott pivots on his heel as he rises again to his feet and both men find themselves staring one another down in the center of the ring, once again in neutral position, with a newly earned respect for the other's wrestling prowess. The crowd pops with anticipation as the two nod at one another, each aware they were about to meet for their third Collar-Elbow Tie-Up of the match.
Glass: "These two guys are showing off some technical prowess here. It's to be expected from a veteran and a former Global Champion."
Higgins: "Right you are. Zout looks for a takedown, but Scott stuffs the attempt. The two put in some mat work before they find themselves facing each other down in the center of the ring."
Glass: "They've tested the waters. I think we're about to see them ramp it up here, Alex."
The third meeting of the two competitors in the hold is rougher and more violent than the first two. Each man wrenches down on his opponent, looking to create some slack in his opposition's grasp, but each man keeps a tight clasp on the other's shoulder and elbow, stomping to secure their base despite the thrashing throw attempts from the other. Zout grows weary of his opponent's advantage in upper body strength and again uses his trained dexterity to slip his right arm free and swing a hard elbow at Scott's left temple, but Scott is no amateur, either, and ducks below the strike, slipping behind Zout, and clasps his arms around Zout's waistline. Before Zout has an opportunity to combat the grapple, Scott lifts him into the air, using his hips for leverage, and bridges backwards, slamming Zout's back and shoulders into the mat with a quick, but impactful German Suplex.
Higgins: "Mark Zout looks to connect with a right elbow, but The Granite City Sadist slips the blow and capitalizes with a big German Suplex!"
Glass: "It will be a mistake for Mark Zout to let Caleb Scott build any sort of momentum here. Once he gets going, he's a force to be reckoned with."
Allowing his opponent no time to recover his bearings, Scott assumes a top-mounted position on the supine Zout and unleashes a litany of strikes to the older wrestler's face. The first few punches, being delivered by both of Scott's fists in a ground and pound fashion, land cleanly to Zout's chin and temples, but Zout tucks his chin and brings his arms up to protect his head. The majority of the following few strikes land as glancing blows, however Zout is not out of trouble as Scott refuses to relent on his assault. The crowd rumbles with excitement as the former Global Champion displays the first edge of dominance in the bout. Growing tired of Zout's defensive position, Scott grabs Zout by the head and slams it into the canvas. Zout moves his hands to the back of his head where he had just impacted the ring, and Scott launches a heavy right fist into the side of Zout's head where he had spotted an opening to strike. Zout's eyes roll back momentarily and his face assumes a blank expression for a moment.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott is relentless here. He just keeps pumbling Mark Zout with fist after fist, using both hands!"
Glass: "You do what you have to do inside that ring, Higgins. The Sadist is showing us where he gets his name-sake."
Satisfied with the success of his assault, Scott finds a foot under himself and lifts Zout into a seated position as he stands. Keeping the pressure on, Scott delivers a knee into Zout's face and lifts him further to his feet. Zout seems to be out on his feet and so Scott puts a finger to his lips for the crowd before nearly decapitating his opponent with a stiff Lariet. Zout lands supine on the mat once more with his legs folded over himself. Scott throws Zout's legs out of the way and covers his opponent.
Glass: "Oh my, oh mighty! Caleb Scott just about took the head off of Mark Zout's shoulders!"
Higgins: "A brutal Clothesline From Hell! Caleb Scott makes a cover!"
ONE!!
TW--!!
Higgins: "Scott tried to put his opponent away early, but Mark Zout kicks out at the count of two."
The pinned wrestler throws his right fist straight into the air, narrowly missing the referee, forcing his shoulder blade off the canvas. Scott stands, awaiting his opponent, as Zout wearily finds his own feet. As soon as Zout is standing, Scott delivers an Inverted Atomic Drop. Zout, face racked with pain, has no time to tend to the impacted area before Scott takes him by the arm and Irish Whips him into the corner. Zout manages turn his back at the last second so that he impacts the top turnbuckle with his back and shoulders, as opposed to chest first, but this is a small consolation. Scott, with all the force of a runaway locomotive, sprints toward the corner and leaps at his stunned opponent, connecting chest-to-chest with a brutal Running Jumping Corner Splash. Zout stumbles just a few steps away from the corner before Scott captures him in an Inverted Reverse Headlock and falls forward, slamming Zout to the canvas with a Reverse DDT. Scott hooks the supine Zout's leg and covers him back-to-chest.
Higgins: "Inverted Atomic Drop by Caleb Scott, whom follows up with an Irish Whip into the corner and connects with a Corner Splash before capitalizing with a Reverse DDT!"
Glass: "This is what I was talking about when I said Zout couldn't allow Caleb Scott to build this kind of momentum. After suffering a series of moves like that, this one's gonna be wrapped up like the prom king with the cheerleading captain."
Higgins: "That is unbelievably crude, ABG. Here's the cover!"
ONE!!
TWO!!
TH--!!
The official stops the count, noticing the outstretched right hand of Zout is under the bottom rope. Scott shakes his head incredulously, sitting upright. With a sigh of disbelief at his misfortune, he stares down at Zout, who still hasn't moved from the position he was in when pinned, and Zout's middle and index fingertips, lying just barely beneath the bottom rope. Scott rubs his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, then slowly rises to his feet. Zout, too, stirs.
Higgins: "We thought it was all said and done, but Mark Zout was blessed with a stroke of fortune there."
Glass: "If he doesn't do something to turn the momentum of this match around soon, it's going to be a stroke of misfortune. The Granite City Sadist feels all too comfortable punishing his opponents when they've got no gas left in the tank."
Zout grabs the ropes, using them to aid him into a standing position. The process is slow, and when he turns to face his opponent, Scott is already running at him. Scott dives forward at Zout with a Spear, but Zout drops back to the mat, pulling the middle rope down with him, and Scott soars right over him, through the ropes, and to the the floor at ringside where he impacts the ground in a less-than-ideal position with his neck and shoulder absorbing the brunt of the force.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Higgins: "Oh my, I'm not sure that was a good way to land, ABG. The way Caleb Scott hit the floor at ringside did not at all look safe. The noise that was produced when he impacted that floor makes me feel sick to my stomach."
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
Glass: "I agree with you, Alex. Seeing a couple guys punish each other is one thing, but it's never good to see somebody land the way Caleb Scott did outside the ring."
SEVEN!!
Higgins: "I know he may be seriously injured, but The Sadist has to find a way to get back to his feet and get back into the ring."
EIGHT!!
It takes Scott a long few moments to recover from the brutal landing he suffered. The time it takes him to recover his bearings and find his feet under himself once more is enough time for Zout to rise, bound off the opposite ropes, and dive through the top and middle ropes head first in the same fashion Scott had a few moments before. In an instant, Zout flips with forward rotation so that he lands against Scott's chest rear-first, driving his opponent to the floor into a supine position. Zout, with his legs split over each side of Scott's head, lands on his feet. He hops onto the barricade just in front of him, and leaps off of it with a backward flip, connecting perpandicularly belly-to-belly on Scott with a Moonsault.
Higgins: "Thank God Caleb Scott is able to stand."
Glass: "He might be a little banged up, but I think he may be okay."
Higgins: "Mark Zout is on the offensive with his Suicide Plancha he calls The Ode to Nirvana! He follows up with a Moonsault from the barricade!"
Glass: "All he had to do was rest up in the ring and hope the former Global Champion was unable to reenter before Joe Trotter could count to ten, but he puts his body on the line here."
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
FOUR!!
Zout helps Scott to his feet, only to Irish Whip him toward the steel steps at ringside. Scott manages to turn quickly so that he impacts the steps with his back instead of his knees, but unfortunately, this also takes a toll on the same left shoulder he had previously landed poorly on. Scott unleashes a howl of pain as the top steps seperate from the bottom and his chain-wrapped baseball bat is sent rolling along the floor of the outside.
FIVE!!
SIX!!
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
Higgins: "Another brutal impact to The Sadist's shoulder on the outside of the ring!"
Zout is upon Scott before he can stand and delivers a hard kick to Scott's left shoulder with the steel steps behind it.
NINE!!
Glass: "One of these guys has to get back in the ring NOW or this thing is going to be over in a draw!"
Taking Scott by the same arm he had just kicked into the steel steps, Zout rolls into the ring and pulls his opponent in after him. Scott, with his hurt arm twisted, forms a fist with his right hand and begins to swing it at the midsection of his opponent. Zout reads the attack, however, and yanks back on the arm, bringing Scott closer to the center of the ring and stifling the attack as Scott is forced into a prone position on the mat. Zout squats down above Scott's shoulder, applying a Squatting Arm Bar.
Higgins: "I'm not sure how smart it was for Zout to bring his opponent back into the ring. That was his second possible opportunity to win by count-out."
Glass: "Mark Zout wants a decisive victory. He's still new in this company and he has to show the rest of the locker room that he deserves a spot on the card. You don't get there by taking count-out or disqualification victories. You get there by beating your opponent in the center of that ring."
Higgins: "Mark Zout has applied a Squatting Arm Bar to the injured shoulder of Caleb Scott!"
Glass: "They're in the center of the ring, Alex. Caleb Scott has no where to go. He's a tough S.O.B., but there is only so much punishment one man can take."
Scott pounds and claws at the canvas, vigorously denying the Joe Trotter permission to call the match off. Too far in the center of the ring to find a rope break, and unable to continue in this position for any further length of time, it is out of desperation as much as ingenuity that Scott picks the ankle of Zout and trips him into a prone position on the mat. Zout is forced to release the hold to save himself from an unprotected collision of his face with the canvas. Scott nurses his shoulder with a quivering breath as he relies entirely on his own determination to stand and continue the fight.
Higgins: "I can't believe it, but Caleb Scott fights through the pain and finds a way to escape the hold applied to that shoulder."
Glass: "Yeah, Alex, he's tough as nails, but you have got to wonder how much damage that left shoulder can endure and how it may affect him in the match going forward."
Scott waves the referee aside, rolling his left should in small circles in an attempt to loosen it back up. Zout is upon him again, though, and catches the former Global Champion in the midsection with the toe of his shoe. Zout grasps Scott's injured arm and places a foot on the same shoulder, stretching the limb to it's limit before falling backward to the mat, driving his heel into Scott's shoulder. Scott reels back, holding the shoulder, and leans into the ropes in front of the entrance ramp.
Glass: "Another punishing blow to the shoulder of Caleb Scott!"
Higgins: "Mark Zout drove the sole of his shoe into Caleb Scott's shoulder, using The Granite City Sadist's own body weight against him."
Glass: "Earlier I was wereful of Zout allowing Scott too much momentum, but Caleb Scott has got to find a way to turn this fight around now before Mark Zout runs away with the match."
Zout rolls backward and charges Scott, but the would-be victim of his charge ducks low and thrusts upward, sending Zout flying over the top rope. Zout grasps the top rope on his way over and finds his feet on the apron, landing behind Scott. Zout drives a Vertical Elbow Strike into the left shoulder of Scott and slingshots back over the top rope, looking to connect with a Slingshot Sit-Out Crevaet Jaw-Breaker, but Scott catches one of Zouts legs and sends him spinning, driving Zout's back and shoulders into the center of the ring as he sits out.
Higgins: "Mark Zout charges Caleb Scott down, but Scott counters with an Alley-Oop to the outside. Zout lands on the ring apron and delivers another shot to that injured shoulder. Zout looks to connect with a Slingshot Sit-Out Jawbreaker, but Caleb Scott catches his opponent offgard with a Blue Thunder Bomb!"
Glass: "Unbelievable, Alex! Just when I was ready to count him out, Caleb Scott reaches down deep and delivers a mountainous powebomb! That's gonna stop Mark Zout dead in his tracks."
Higgins: "It might, ABG, but the question now is how much gas does either of these men have left in the tank?"
Both competitors lay in the center of the ring and the referee, unsure of what to do, begins a count for the competitors to answer before he calls the match a draw.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Both competitors begin to stir. Scott nurses his shoulder, unable to hide the grit of his teeth as he writhes, looking to collect his knees under himself. Zout rolls into a prone position, huffing with the side of his face against the mat as he wills the palms of his hands flat against the canvas to push himself up.
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
Scott grunts as he uses both arms to create a base for himself. He is positioned on both hands and knees and exhales heavily as he raises his head, beginning to collect his bearings. Zout brings his knees forward, one at a time, resting the top of his head against the mat after he pushes his arms straight.
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
NINE!!
Scott has found his feet under himself and closes in on his opponent, disregarding the referee's count. His face wears an expression of determination, or perhaps anger. As Zout finds his second foot under himself, still bent down, Scott grabs him by the back of the head and tilts his face up to drive a heavy right fist into it. Zout stumbles back a step, reeling from the blow, but steps back toward his opponent, responding with a backhand chop.
Glass: "I wasn't sure either man would answer the referee's count, but the battle is back underway. These guys are launching artillery shots at each other. This ring is a war zone!"
Scott takes a step back now, but recovers his ground with another strong right fist. Zout fires back with a right forearm strike. Scott retorts with another loaded right hand, and Zout meets the force with an equal right forearm strike. The two pick up the pace of their strikes, exchanging unprotected blows, each with a grip on the other's head with vigor and a refusal to be the first to lose steam. The crowd roars with each blow, but it is Scott that finds his groove first.
Higgins: "Neither man is attempting to protect himself. They're throwing all their energy into offense. A war zone is right, ABG, and this is a battle of attrition!"
Scott connects two unanswered blows in a row before Zout can respond once, then twice more. Sensing his advantage in momentum, Scott catches Zout's next strike attempt and uses the caught limb to whip Zout into the corner. Zout slumps just slightly into the corner and Scott mounts the middle turnbuckle, standing tall above his opponent. He raises his right fist high into the air, holding Zout's face in place with his left hand, and begins unleashing blow after blow into Zout's skull. The crowd chants along with each strike.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
NINE!!
TEN!!
Higgins: "Ten Count Punches in the corner delivered by Caleb Scott! The audience is electric!"
Scott releases his grip on Zout's head and dismounts the turnbuckle. Zout stumbles a few steps out of the corner before collapsing to one knee. Scott backs into the ropes, using their tension to aid him with his speed as he runs forward, driving his knee into Zout's face. Zout crumples to the canvas and Scott motions to the crowd that this match will soon be over.
Glass: "Grim Death! Start the bus! Mark Zout put up a good fight, but Caleb Scott is about to wrap this up."
Scott grabs the leg of Zout and rolls his shoulders over Zout's midsection, capturing his head in the process. As he rolls through, finding his feet, he lifts Zout into a Fireman's Carry. Standing tall in the center of the ring with his opponent atop his shoulders, Scott unleashes a battle cry as he drops Zout into a Belly-to-Back Piledriver. The move never connects, however. Zout grapevines his legs around Scott's right arm and manipulates Scott's left arm into a Key Lock. As Scott sits out to connect with his Final Resting Place finishing maneuver, Zout has him trapped in a seated crucifix Americana.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott looks to connect with The Final Resting Place, and he does NOT! Mark Zout has reversed The Granite City Sadist's finishing maneuver into a Crucifix Americana!"
Glass: "Zout has the hold locked in on the injured arm! Caleb Scott has no where to go!"
Scott attempts to find a way out of the hold that applies a great deal of pressure to his targeted arm, but the ropes are too far from him in the center of the ring and he is given no route for escape. Despite this, Scott refuses permission to the official to call off the match. He fights with every but of his will, ending up slumped to the side with his the side of his head against the canvas and his right arm hanging limply in the air, being supported only by the Leg grapple Zout has applied. The official, unable to recieve any further response from Scott, raises the man's arm so that it is straight and then releases it. It falls limply from the elbow.
Glass: "Caleb Scott has no quit in him! I can't believe he hasn't tapped out!"
ONE!!
Higgins: "He hasn't tapped out, ABG, but I'm not sure he's still conscious!"
The referee raises Scott's right arm to straight again and the results are the same.
TWO!!
Glass: "That's two, Alex! Caleb Scott has to dig deep and find a way to keep fighting if he's going to survive this hold!"
The referee nervously raises the right arm of Scott for the last time, steadying it before he releases the wrist and takes a step back. The crowd is on the edge of their seats in silent anticipation when Scott's arm falls limply a final time.
THREE!!
Higgins: "Unbelievable! Caleb Scott refused to tap out, but he couldn't stay conscious through the pain."
Glass: "Yeah, he's one of the toughest guys in the locker room, but Mark Zout had him tangled up like a spider monkey. He had no way to escape!"
The referee instructs Zout to release the hold, which he does immediately, and signals to the Time Keeper. The bell rings and the referee raises Zout's arm in victory. As Fireflight's Unbreakable takes over the PA System, the electronic rock shares the speakers with the voice of Charity Langston.
Langston: "Your winner, at a time of twenty minutes and fourty-eight seconds, by way of Technical Knock Out... Every Cool Kid, MARK ZOUT!"
Zout winces, holding the back of his head as he looks back to his opponent who is just beginning to stir. He gives a nod of respect in Scott's direction before he ducks between the middle and top ropes and hops down to the floor, stepping over the chain-wrapped baseball bat on his way up the entrance ramp, hobling slightly as he goes.
Higgins: "What a match! Mark Zout emerges victorious against Caleb Scott on Friday Night Combat. I count myself lucky to have seen it first hand!"
Glass: "No joke. These guys put it all on the line and left nothing behind. I can't wait to see what else happens tonight!"
Match 3
John Blade vs Mr Determination
Blade and Determination forego the typical lock up to begin the match, with Blade delivering 3 jabs to Determination and the latter returning serve before John kicks him in the stomach and drops him to the mat with a snap DDT. Without a moment's hesitation, Blade hits a spinning belly to belly suplex on Determination before attempting a dropkick when he stands, only to be swatted away by Determination, who then connects with a backbreaker before letting Blade drop to the mat. Lifting him up, Determination then goes for a STO, only to be countered by Blade driving his elbow into Determination's temple, then hitting him with an armbar takedown. Releasing the armbar, John connects with a gutwrench suplex before attempting a pin, which only nets him a 1 and 1/4 count.
Alex: If there's one thing that John Blade is known for, it's his heart. But that's something Mr. Determination is known for too. Neither man has an ounce of quit in them.
Arthur: You need more than heart to be successful in wrestling though ---.
Alex: Do you always have to be like this?
Arthur: I'm just saying. But yes, both men have heart. Which one of them has the desire to win though? That is what this match will hopefully be able to tell us.
Blade then bounces off the ropes, hitting a basement dropkick to Determination, sending him back onto the mat, before lifting him and going for a northern lights suplex, only for it to be countered into a DDT by Determination. Wanting to keep the pressure on, Determination connects with a leg drop before lifting up Blade and hitting him with a side slam, then a wrist clutch knee strike into a pin attempt, getting a 1 and 1/2 count.
Alex: I could hear that knee strike from here.
Arthur: Sudden impact and drvastrating. Just the way Mr. Determination likes it.
Vance then attempts a Belly to belly suplex, only for it to be blocked by Blade, who then mongolian chops Determination to force himself free before hitting him with a discus forearm, rocking him and leaving him open for a firemans carry facebuster. Looking out to the fans in attendance, Blade pauses for them before hitting a swinging heel kick to the side of Determinations head, causing him to drop to the mat like a sack of potatoes. Hitting the ropes, Blade then hits a jumping knee drop to Determination's head before pulling him up by the wrists, only to drop him to the mat with a neckbreaker, before going for a pin attempt, getting a 2 count.
Alex: Blade getting back into the fight now. Trying to put Determination away once and for all.
Not allowing himself to be thrown off, Blade connects with a northern lights suplex, following up with bouncing off the ropes and hitting a fist drop. Looking out to the fans once more, he uses their energy to fuel him before hoisting Determination onto his shoulders --- only for the latter to slither off him and surprise him with a running clothesline. Determination then hits a jumping knee strike once Blade rises, causing him to fall back onto the mat, before Determination connects with a pendulum backbreaker, but his attempt at the pin is countered by a schoolboy roll up, getting another 2 count.
Arthur: Sneaky, but I like it.
Slapping the mat in slight annoyance, Blade decides to simply return his focus to Vance, hitting him with a shoulder tackle, then another when Determination rises before letting out a roar, pumping himself up with the crowd's adulation and respect. Lifting Vance, he connects with a spinning powerbomb before hitting a falcon arrow and hooking the legs
1….
2…
3…
Arthur: What a debut win here for John Blade! We will not forget this name!
Match 4
Sofie Diamantis vs Alliyah Landerson
Higgins: "I'm still trying to get over John Blade and Mr. Determination's match, ABG."
Glass: "Well get over it, Alex. We've got a couple of women about to brawl. I hope there's some hair pulling."
Higgins: "You never cease to disgust me."
The lights of the arena dim and every one's attention is turned to the entry way. We hear Charity Langston introduce the next event.
Langston: "The next is a singles match to be determined by one fall, officiated by Ashly Neal."
Hell on Heels by Pistol Annies lulls over the speaker system and we see a man walk backward from backstage. He stoops low and the camera he holds flashes several times at the woman who struts out after him wearing a robe. She blows kisses to the crowd before continuing her catwalk down toward the ring, paying the personal photographer no heed.
Langston: "Introducing first; from Thessoloniki, Greece, standing at five feet, seven inches, and weighing one hundred twenty pounds... SOFIE DIAMANDIS!"
Sofie stops by a young fan holding an Ally Landerson sign and convinces her to let her inspect it. The girl hesitantly hands the sign over and Sofie rips it in half. As the girl bursts into tears, Sofie mocks her, rubbing her fists below her eyes. Her personal photographer, Nico, snaps some candid pics of the event that are instantaly displayed on the video tron at the top of the entry way. The crowd in attendance immediately burst into jeers. As the fans roar their disapproval, Sofie laughs, flipping a hand through her hair, and continues toward the ring.
Higgins: "Sofie Diamandis is a new talent in IIW, and it didn't take her long to establish her role here."
Glass: "I've said it before, Alex. Being liked is over rated. We're seeing a woman who is comfortable playing mind games not only with her opponents, but the fans, as well!"
Sofie walks up the steel steps at ringside, walks along the apron, and waits by the ropes. Her photographer is snapping pictures of her, but she screams at him, pointing at the ropes. Nicole scrambles up on the apron and spreads the middle and bottom ropes apart. Sofie flashes him a fake smile and insincere thanks before ducking low between the ropes and making her way to the center of the ring. Once there, she slips the robe off, revealing a scantily clad wrestling attire. Nico's camera is not the only one flashing now. Neal instructs her to her corner and the lights dim.
As the opening notes of Vengo Por Ti by Def Rebel and the bellow of Buyaka Buyaka hits the speakers the crowd erupts into cheers.
The spotlight circles around the arena before settling on a figure in pink and black hoodie who kneels on one knee, praying. She burst to her feet, pointing around to the crowd, and takes off down the entrance ramp.
Langston: "And her opponent: from San Jose, California, standing at five feet, four inches, and weighing one hundred fourteen pounds... She is the Princess of the Six One Nine, AALIYAH LANDERSON!"
Aaliyah is halfway down the entrance ramp, passing out high fives, when she notices the debris of the sign on the ground. She stops to talk to the young fan who had been mocked by her opponent before reaching into her hoodie to retrieve a replica of her luchador mask, which she hands to the girl before giving her a pat on the head. She then points a finger at her opponent, yelling a threat. The crowd pops again as she runs toward the ring.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson is coming off a win in a Triple Threat Match, where she defeated two other women on the last installment of Friday Night Combat!"
Glass: "And what a brawl that was! They even ended up fighting in the audience!"
Aaliyah climbs into the ring and mounts the top turnbuckle, extending her fingers into the air as the crowd cheers again.
From behind, Diamandis grabs Landerson by the hair and pulls her down from the turnbuckle onto the back of her head, following up with several stomps to the head and face. The crowd erupts into jeers and the lights come up. Neal does her best to interpose herself between Diamandis and the grounded Landerson. Neal shoves Diamandis back, who sneers at Landerson. Landerson picks herself up, rubbing her nose and looking to her hand to inspect it for blood. Her eyes narrow at her opponent, ready to serve her payback. Now that Neal has taken control of the match, the referee signals to the Time Keeper to begin the match and the bell sounds.
DING!!
DING!!
Higgins: "The level of disrespect from newcomer, Sofie Diamandis, is sickening! Aaliyah Landerson didn't even have a chance to see that attack coming. Diamandis sprung on her before the bell had even sounded!"
Glass: "THAT is ruthless aggression, Alex. We're seeing a woman who wants to win at any cost and personally, I'm happy to see it."
The two women leave their corners as soon as the bell sounds. Diamandis looks to deliver a running strike to Landerson, but Landerson is atop her with a Lous Thesz Press. Both women hit the mat, but Landerson holds the mounted position and fires several forearm strikes into the face of Diamandis. Diamandis, with nowhere to go, snakes an eye jab past the bridge of Landerson's nose and grabs a handful of her hair, rolling so that it is she whom holds the top mount now. With a banshee's scream and a string of insults, Diamandis repeatedly drives the head of Landerson into the canvas, using The Princess' hair as a handle. Neal warns her about the use of her opponent's hair, and Diamandis reluctantly releases her hold before slapping Landerson, who holds her battered head, hard across the face.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson takes an early lead with a Lous Thesz Press, but Sofie Diamandis gouges her eyes and utilizes her hair in an unsportsmanlike retaliation."
Glass: "I knew I'd get to see some hairpulling!"
Diamandis rises and makes a heart shape with her hands to the audience before breaking the symbol apart with a sneer. She laughs as they boo her, but they quickly change to cheers as Landerson comes from behind with a Bulldog, driving Diamandis' face into the canvas. Landerson holds Diamandis in a headlock on the mat and drives repeating fists into her opponent's face. Diamandis endures several blows before using the bottom rope to pull herself out of the ring, breaking the hold. Landerson stands at the ropes, taunting Diamandis to reenter the ring and face her, but Diamandis waves her off and begins walking toward the entrance ramp.
Higgins: "Where on Earth is Sofie Diamandis going?"
Glass: "I think she's done, Alex. She has nothing to prove to you or any of these people in the arena."
As Daimandis gets to the base of the entrance ramp, Landerson has climbed to the top turnbuckle and soars now through the air. Diamandis' personal photographer, Nico, points behind her at the bird-likr Landerson, and Diamandis turns just in time for Landerson to wrap her legs around her head in a scissors and whip through the air, throwing Diamandis back toward the ring with the momentum of the flying grapple. Landerson grabs Diamandis by the back of her neck and her tights and rolls her back into the ring.
Higgins: "Whether she wants to be done or not, I don't think Aaliyah Landerson is going to give Sofie Daimandis a choice! A magnificent flying headscissor takedown stops the fleeing Diamandis in her tracks."
Glass: "That was Landerson's way of saying, 'Oh no you don't,' and, 'get back in this ring!'"
Landerson scales the ringpost from the outside and jumps one hundred eighty degrees atop the top turnbuckle, splitting her legs across the top ropes as she comes down, which catapults her into a moonsault onto Diamandis. Diamandis tries again to roll out of the rings, but Landerson climbs halfway over the ropes, catching Diamandis by the hair as she's halfway off the apron, and pulls her back up to a standing position on the apron. Diamandis swings at Landerson with a slap, but Landerson ducks the blow. Driving her upper body through the top and middle ropes, Landerson connects with a shoulder thrust to Diamandis' midsection. Diamandis doubles over and Langston reaches over the ropes and grapples her in a suplex. Landerson backs up a few paces as she holds Diamandis in the vertical position, then drops her forward. Diamandis' legs bounce off the top ropes and Landerson spins her one hundred eighty degrees horizontally and sits out with a facebuster. The crowd is ecstatic!
Glass: "Aaliyah, just let her go!"
Higgins: "Turnabout is fair play, ABG. Aaliyah Landerson lands a devastating Falcon's Arrow on Sofie Diamandis!"
Landerson twists the arm of Diamandis, working it into a Hammer Lock and hooks a leg, rolling Diamandis into a hammerlock roll up. Ashly Neal is in position and begins the count.
ONE!!
TWO!!
TH--!!
Diamandis finds a way to escape the pin. As Diamandis is attempting to stand, Landerson somersaults over her, hooking the leg and head. Again, Neal counts.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THR--!!
Diamandis gets a shoulder up, but Landerson rolls her right into another pin attempt.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE--!!
Higgins: "Several quick pin attempts by Aaliyah Landerson, but none of them are quite enough to put Daimandis away."
Again, Diamandis gets a shoulder off the mat. Landerson is up quickly and bounds off the ropes, looking to connect with a Leg Lariat. As she is in the air, however, Diamandis lunges off the mat, catching Landerson by the hair, and pulls her straight down into the canvas, another banshee scream accompanying the counter-attack. Diamandis lifts Landerson by the hair to her knees and drags her by the same hold to the ropes, Landerson kicking her legs behind her as she grabs desperately at the hands that hold her by the hair. Diamandis presses Landerson's face against the middle rope and drags her across it. Landerson let's loose a pained scream as she graps at her rope burned face and Diamandis puts her heel on the back of Landerson's head, forcing the luchador's throat into the middle rope. Neal warns her to stop, but Diamandis stands now with both feet across the back of Landerson's neck, pulling up against the top rope. Neal's count for a rope break nearly reaches five before Diamandis releases the hold, returning to her feet on the mat. As Neal attempts to chide her for The illegal use of the ropes, Diamndis puts a hand in front of the official's face and turns her head away. The crowd holds back no disdain for the woman.
Glass: "Sofie Daimandis is showing us exactly why she belongs in the IIW. Look at the way she just took control of this match, Alex."
Huggins: "There is no way we just watched the same thing, ABG. Daimandis has a blatant disregard for the rules and for the official. These are not the kind of values IIW supports!"
Glass: "Values? You're delusional, old friend. The IIW brass doesn't care about values. They care about winning, and right now Sofia Daimandis is winning!"
Landerson is left sputtering and gasping for breath as Nico snaps a few close-ups of her. This infuriates Diamandis, who scolds him and gestilicates that she is who he is paid to photograph. As she finishes arguing with Nico, Diamandis turns back to face Landerson, who still lays on the mat, but has rolled away from the ropes. Diamandis reaches down to grab her opponent by the hair once more, but Landerson, who by this time was playing opossum, rolls her up in a small package. Neal is ready.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE-- KICKOUT!!
____________________
As the two women clamor to their feet, Diamands rushes Landerson in a fit of rage, her scream as she charges giving her emotions away. Landerson is quick to trip her with a Drop Toe Hold, however, sending Diamandis to be hung up on the middle rope by her chest. Landerson runs up behind Diamandis and threads her legs through the middle and too ropes, swinging her legs into the face of the social media influencer. Diamandis flies back from the blow, landing supine in the center of the ring.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson is showing us why she is The Princess of the Six One Nine!"
Landerson mounts the top rope and leaps from her perch, connecting soundly into the ribs of Diamandis with a huge Frog Splash. Ashly Neal counts the pin along with the audience.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Neal motions to the Time Keeper and raises Landerson's hand and she celebrates in the center of the ring with Def Rebel's Vengo Por Ti playing in the background.
Langston: "The winner of the match, at a time of eleven minutes and thirty-four seconds, by way of pin fall... The Princess of the Six One Nine, AALIYAH LANDERSON!"
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson takes it home with the Landerson Frog Splash!"
Glass: "Was a wardrobe malfunction too much to ask?"
Higgins: "I think you've got a malfunction, ABG."
Match 5
Hardcore Jono vs eddie Charisma
Without even waiting for Eddie to engage with him, Jono lifts him into the air and body slams him to the mat, before bouncing off the ropes and connecting with a leg drop before standing. Not wanting to even let his opponent breathe, Jono pulls him to his feet before wrapping him into a bearhug and driving him into the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Smirking, he rises, attempting to connect with a big boot to Eddie's head when he attempts to rush him, only for Chrisma to side step before kicking him in the calf to cause the bigger man to stagger, though his superkick attempt is blocked by Jono's hands, who then connects with a Saito suplex, following up with a pin that gets a 2 count.
Arthur: Jono showing once again that he doesn't get paid by the hour and just wants to get the job done.
Alex: Who wouldn't? Especially when you're trying to carve his name out in the combat brand. Show management what he is capable of.
Jono, not reacting to Eddie kicking out, simply turns to pick him up, only for Eddie to surprise him with an armdrag, followed by a jumping DDT when he rises to his feet. Fueled by both the crowd and his second wind, he bounces off the ropes and connects with a leaping lariat when Jono stands, followed by a standing moonsault into a knee drop. His momentum is halted with a thud when he attempts to hit a reverse DDT as Jono twists out ot the move before laying him out with a lariat. A follow up powerbomb, leading to another 2 count.
Arthur: I'm really liking this aggression from Jono. He knows Eddie has heart, so he's trying to completely strip it away from him, the only way he knows how.
Alex: You do know Eddie can come back at any moment, right?
Arthur: He can, but will he? Jono sure doesn't think so, nor will he allow him to do so
Alex: How are you so sure?
Arthur: Trust me.
Jono then lifts Eddie up and locks in a bearhug, looking to make his foe tap out, even as Eddie attempts to drill him with punches. After about 30 seconds, Eddie is able to break free, only to be met with a violent knee strike by Jono, who then coldly stares at him before driving him into his knee with a face buster before nailing him with a belly to back suplex, this time holding on to get a 2 and 1/2 count.
Jono slides out of the ring and grabs a baseball bat from under the ring, inside the ring he starts wailing on Eddie Charisma…. Who is not responsive as the ref pushes him off. The ref calls for the bell as the security come down to escort Hardcore Jono away from the scene!
Match 5
World Title
Crush vs El Landerson
Crush attempts to intimidate his challenger to start the match off, only for Landerson to stun him with sharp kicks to the calves, followed by leaping into the air and attempting to bring the champion down with a jumping DDT --- though Crush instead simply tosses him up and over with a back body drop. Not wanting to give his opponent even a sniff of the match, Crush lays him out with a big boot, before quickly and arrogantly going for a pin attempt, netting him only a 1 count.
Arthur: Crush sees El Landerson as being nothing more than a message to be sent. Aj example to be made off, and I can't blame him for thinking that.
Alex: Neither can I, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be careful. Landerson could very well be walking out of here with the world championship.
Arthur: I highly doubt that will happen.
Pulling El Landerson up with him, Crush hits a vertical suplex, before looking for a leg drop - a move that Landerson is able to evade by rolling out of the way. He is even able to land a dropkick on the champion before hitting the ropes and going for a springboard moonsault, even if Crush ends up getting his knees up to wind the champion. Using this to his advantage, Crush connects with a violent uppercut followed by a samoan drop to almost crush the masked underdog, then pulling him up by the mask and driving him to the mat with a powerbomb. The resultant cover once again, only manages a 2 count.
both men explode forward into a lock-up. The two totter back and forth, neither gaining an advantage. Landerson uses his slight weight advantage to push Crush back to the ropes only to get a knee to the groin for his trouble. Landerson raises his hands high in mercy, and Crush backs off slowly.
Alex: Well, that was a little anticlimactic.
Arthur: Crush comes from a mixed background of Japanese strong style and lucha libre—
Alex: Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…
Crush goes for another lock-up, but Landerson does a roll behind. Landerson grasps Crush around his waist, and attempts for a German suplex. Crush grabs Landerson's hands, struggles out of the grip, and reverses Landerson into a hammerlock. He shoves him into the ropes but Landerson reverses the hold behind Crush. Landerson throws Crush to the opposite ropes only to have him come charging back, looking for a clothesline. Landerson drops to his stomach and Crush hops over him, spins around and catches Landerson solidly with a spinning heel kick as he rises. Landerson goes down hard and Crush immediately locks him into a sleeper hold. Landerson strains for the ropes, but he's too far away. Jimmy Schultz raises Landerson's hand, only for it to drop back to the canvas.
ONE!
He raises the hand again, only for it to drop one more time.
TWO!
Arthur: This is absolutely...
Alex:: It won't end like this
Jimmy Schultz raises the hand once more, and this time it stops mid-air. Landerson elbows Crush in the stomach, and follows it up with two more. This doubles over Crush, making him perfect bait for a body slam. Crush grabs his spine from the move, wincing as Landerson goes to carefully pick him up by his head. Crush explodes to life at the touch and hooks Landerson for a suplex. Landerson blocks it and Crush sends him staggering back with a few stiff backhand chops. Once more Crush tries to take him over with a suplex but Landerson blocks it. Crush breaks off and springs off the middle rope, nailing Landerson in the face with a springboard lariat.
Alex:: BORING, BORING, BORING!
Arthur: Quiet down, they might hear you.
Crush seems to hear Alex, going over to the ropes nearest to the announce table. He points right at Alex and then to his own eyes before springing up onto the top rope, watching while Landerson lays on the canvas, clearly dazed. He turns around and springboards off the middle rope, and then the top rope before nailing the staggering Landerson clean with the BONE CRUSHER
Crush drops to the mat and hooks the leg deep, making a cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Match 1
Non Title – Winner decides stipulation for Triple Crown match
PG13 vs Trent Darby
PG-13 and Darby lock up to begin the match, as Lux stares at both men while PG manages to use his strength in order to get tue advantage. Pushing Darby to the ground, PG glances across at the guest referee, smirking before landing a boot to the head of the rising Darby, before lifting him up and going for a spinebuster, only for Darby to counter and instead connect with a DDT. Rising instantly, Trent pays no attention to Lux before hitting PG with a spinning heel kick, sending him back down to the mat with a thud. He then connects with a knee drop to the downed PG, this time turning and getting in the face of Lux, who just laughs at him in response. Turning, he notices PG getting back to his feet, but is too late to prevent him from wrapping his arms around Darby's waist and hitting a belly to belly suplex that sends the latter man across the ring and almost under the bottom rope. He makes his way back to his feet, charging at Darby and knocking him back down to the mat with a pounce-like move before lifting him and hitting another Belly to belly suplex. His eyes briefly look at Xavier, before he shakes his head and returns his focus to Trent, stomping down on his prone body then lifting him to his feet, only to nail him with a sidewalk slam. Covering, he gets a 1 and a half count, albeit a little slower than expected.
Arthur: Lux getting himself involved almost immedately. He's letting both men know he isn't gonna let them dictate the terms for the impending title match.
Alex: He warned them earlier in the night, and now he's simply following through with his words.
Frustrated, he knows that his primary focus needs to remain on the task at hand. As such, he simply waits for Trent to stand back up, knee him in the stomach when he does before dropping him to the mat with a powerbomb, following up with a pointed elbow drop, causing Trent to cough before PG hits a knee drop to the head, then lifting him, only for Trent to use rapid fire forearm strikes to break himself free and opening up room for a dropkick to send PG to the mat. Trying not to divert his attention from PG, Darby raises him to his feet, dropping him with a snap suplex before maintaining the hold for a 2nd, but decides to finish the chain with a DDT instead of a 3rd suplex. Rolling over PG's body, his eyes meet Luxes, who steps forward to ensure Trent follows the rules, much to the latter's chargin. Thankfully for Darby though, it doesn't enable PG to gain any momentum as Darby bounces off the ropes and connects with a shining wizard before dropping down into a pin, which Lux reluctantly counts to 1 and 3/4.
Arthur: You can tell there's frustration building in Darby and even PG, yet they realise that they cannot afford to let their emotions get the best of them.
Alex: You and I both know that is easier said than done though, even if I do agree with you.
Arthur: It doesn't really matter whether it is easier said than done though. You should know that, considering what is at stake here.
Alex: True. We'll have to see which one of these 2 are able to notice that.
Jawing off at Lux, believing that he is screwing him on purpose, Xavier laughs before dropping him with a clothesline and stomping on him, before doing the same to PG once he rises, then just rolling outta the ring and heading backstage, leaving the 2 men on the mat in his wake.
Arthur: ... Or Lux can just decide he's had his fun and send his own message.
Alex: It was always likely gonna come to this.
Luckily for them however, just as they make their way back to their feet, another referee slides into the ring, with Darby hitting a leg lariat to PG as the latter attempted a pop up powerbomb before hitting him with a standing moonsault. Smirking, he then lifts PG to his feet, hitting him with a codebreaker before dropping down for the pin, getting a 2 count in the process.
Arthur: Darby looking to pick up the pieces here and finish PG off.
Signalling the end here Darby grabs PG-13 and whips him into the ropes… INTO PROTOCOL!
1….
2…
3…
Alex: THAT MEANS THAT DARBY WILL GET TO ANNOUNCE THE STIPULATION!!!
Match 2
Caleb Scott vs Mark Zout
Higgins: "What a match between Trent Darby and PG-13! I can't wait to learn what the stipulation for the Triple Crown is going to be!"
Glass: "You got that right, Alex. Those two took the fight to each other. And now we're about to see two more guys who promised a brawl to remember."
Higgins: "The former Global Champion, Caleb Scott, takes on newcomer to the IIW, Mark Zout."
Glass: "Let's see where this goes!"
Langston: "The next match is a singles match scheduled for one fall and will be officiated by referee Joe Trotter."
The lights of the arena lower and our ears are met with the electronic rock of Fireflight's Unbreakable. A single spotlight finds a figure emerging from the back in black and green wrestling tights, shirtless on top. He spreads his arms open wide before starting down the entrance ramp. Along his way several young fans have their hands outstretched over the barricade and Zout jogs alongside them, handing out high fives to all takers.
Langston: "Introducing first; from Seattle, Washington, standing at five feet, ten inches, and weighing one hundred sixty-five pounds... He is Every Cool Kid, MARK ZOUT!"
Upon reaching the side of the ring, Zout slides in head first under the bottom rope and mounts the turnbuckle on hard camera side. He stretches his arms outward and pumps them up several times in succession, the crowd cheering in response. We hear the music fade and the spotlight goes dim while Zout moves to the corner indicated by Trotter.
The crowd hushes in anticipation before Rotting Christ's Ze Nigmar takes over the speakers. We see four hooded drudges emerge from the back in two rows of two, the Torches they hold providing the only light in the arena. When the drums to the song kick in, the single spot light looks to the entrance stage in a single concentrated beam. A thick bog of eery fog fills the entryway and into it and the light, from the back, emerges Caleb Scott, chain-wrapped baseball bat in hand. He points the blunt object around the arena to sensational pop of the audience before slowly starting down the entrance ramp. As he walks, two single-file torch-bearing drudges on either side, low fires ignite along the entryway as he walks.
Langston: "And his opponent; hailing from Saint Cloud, Minnesota, standing at six feet tall and weighing one hundred, ninety-five pounds, previously a Global Champion... He is The Granite City Sadist, CALEB SCOTT!"
The crowd pops again with the announcement. As Scott approaches the ring he ceremoniously lays his chain-wrapped baseball bat atop the steel steps at ringside and walks up the steps, entering the ring. Walking through the center of the ring, Scott makes his way to the ropes, mounting the middle one, and throws his arms out wide, his throat erupting with a guttural scream.
Scott makes his way to his corner as indicated by officiating referee, Joe Trotter. Trotter is quick to go over the rules with the two men before signaling to the Time Keeper to begin the match.
Higgins: "Oh boy, ABG! The crowd is electric. You can just feel it!"
Glass: "Yeah, Alex. These two aren't known for having any quit. We're about to see a war unfold."
The bell rings and without hessitation the two men close in stature and weight explode from their respective corners, colliding in the center of the ring where they vie for an advantage in a Collar-Elbow Tie-Up. Zout gives up a step as Scott pushes forward, then another. It isn't long before Scott has Zout pressed against the ropes. Zout uses the leverage of the ropes and his own dexterity to bound forward off the ropes, slipping out of the hold, and manages to grasp the elbow and wrist of Scott. Employing the momentum already accrued from the previous maneuver, Zout whips Scott past himself, sending him bounding off the ropes opposite those he had been trapped against a moment sooner. Scott returns from the ropes, looking to meet Zout in the center of the ring, but Zout jumps vertically with split legs. Scott thinks quickly to avoid a Lou Thesz Press and ducks under his opponent, bounding again off the ropes, this time by choice. As he returns again he quickly jumps over Zout, who throws himself at Scott's feet in an attempt to trip him. When Scott returns from his third excursion to the ropes, Zout meets him before the center of the ring, sending him flipping high into the air with a Hip Toss. The impact of Scott landing supine against the canvas in the centeris the first sound louder than the stomping of the men's feet as they ran across the ring. The mixed reaction of the crowd is the second. Scott puts a hand to his back, wincing only slightly from the blow as he stands and Zout squats into a ready position, taunting his opponent to come at him again.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott showing an early advantage in strength here tonight, but Mark Zout is quick to display his speed."
Glass: "That's all poppies and roses, but I'm not sure taunting a guy like Caleb Scott is the most intelligent thing to do, however bold."
Higgins: "Right you might be, ABG. Let's have a look and see how this match unfolds."
Scott exchanges his wince for a determined nod, pulling his hand away from his back, and closes in on Zout with a brisk - not to be confused with reckless - pace. Zout meets him in the center of the ring with a Collar-Elbow Tie-Up for the second time. In a flash, Zout drops to one knee, again slipping one arm free. He hooks the inside thigh of Scott, looking to deliver a Fireman's Carry, or perhaps a Leg Sweep, but the audience will never know which. Scott is ready for the technical wrestler's antics and stifles his advance by sprawling his legs out straight behind himself and pressing the weight of his chest down onto Zout's back, forcing Zout into a prone position on the mat. More quickly than his opponent can anticipate, Scott spins to a rear-mounted position atop Zout and connects two sharp right elbows to the back of Zout's head. It is Zout's turn now to wince with the impact of each blow, but he has no time to rest during the assault. Zout finds a weakness in Scott's mount and forcibly pivots his own hips so he is in a seated position with his opponent still behind him. Scott attempts to cinch in a Sleeper Hold, but Zout is prepared for this and slips into a supine position and lands his left kickpad against the top of Scott's head. Scott reels back only slightly from the quick leg strike, but Zout seizes the opportunity to bridge onto his own head and throws his feet backward, landing so that he is again on his feet, just behind and slightly to the side of his opponent. Scott, not to be left in a disadvantageous position, pivots on a knee and lunges forward at Zout with a Double Leg Takedown. Zout is not taken by surprise, and sidesteps his opponent's lunging drive. Scott pivots on his heel as he rises again to his feet and both men find themselves staring one another down in the center of the ring, once again in neutral position, with a newly earned respect for the other's wrestling prowess. The crowd pops with anticipation as the two nod at one another, each aware they were about to meet for their third Collar-Elbow Tie-Up of the match.
Glass: "These two guys are showing off some technical prowess here. It's to be expected from a veteran and a former Global Champion."
Higgins: "Right you are. Zout looks for a takedown, but Scott stuffs the attempt. The two put in some mat work before they find themselves facing each other down in the center of the ring."
Glass: "They've tested the waters. I think we're about to see them ramp it up here, Alex."
The third meeting of the two competitors in the hold is rougher and more violent than the first two. Each man wrenches down on his opponent, looking to create some slack in his opposition's grasp, but each man keeps a tight clasp on the other's shoulder and elbow, stomping to secure their base despite the thrashing throw attempts from the other. Zout grows weary of his opponent's advantage in upper body strength and again uses his trained dexterity to slip his right arm free and swing a hard elbow at Scott's left temple, but Scott is no amateur, either, and ducks below the strike, slipping behind Zout, and clasps his arms around Zout's waistline. Before Zout has an opportunity to combat the grapple, Scott lifts him into the air, using his hips for leverage, and bridges backwards, slamming Zout's back and shoulders into the mat with a quick, but impactful German Suplex.
Higgins: "Mark Zout looks to connect with a right elbow, but The Granite City Sadist slips the blow and capitalizes with a big German Suplex!"
Glass: "It will be a mistake for Mark Zout to let Caleb Scott build any sort of momentum here. Once he gets going, he's a force to be reckoned with."
Allowing his opponent no time to recover his bearings, Scott assumes a top-mounted position on the supine Zout and unleashes a litany of strikes to the older wrestler's face. The first few punches, being delivered by both of Scott's fists in a ground and pound fashion, land cleanly to Zout's chin and temples, but Zout tucks his chin and brings his arms up to protect his head. The majority of the following few strikes land as glancing blows, however Zout is not out of trouble as Scott refuses to relent on his assault. The crowd rumbles with excitement as the former Global Champion displays the first edge of dominance in the bout. Growing tired of Zout's defensive position, Scott grabs Zout by the head and slams it into the canvas. Zout moves his hands to the back of his head where he had just impacted the ring, and Scott launches a heavy right fist into the side of Zout's head where he had spotted an opening to strike. Zout's eyes roll back momentarily and his face assumes a blank expression for a moment.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott is relentless here. He just keeps pumbling Mark Zout with fist after fist, using both hands!"
Glass: "You do what you have to do inside that ring, Higgins. The Sadist is showing us where he gets his name-sake."
Satisfied with the success of his assault, Scott finds a foot under himself and lifts Zout into a seated position as he stands. Keeping the pressure on, Scott delivers a knee into Zout's face and lifts him further to his feet. Zout seems to be out on his feet and so Scott puts a finger to his lips for the crowd before nearly decapitating his opponent with a stiff Lariet. Zout lands supine on the mat once more with his legs folded over himself. Scott throws Zout's legs out of the way and covers his opponent.
Glass: "Oh my, oh mighty! Caleb Scott just about took the head off of Mark Zout's shoulders!"
Higgins: "A brutal Clothesline From Hell! Caleb Scott makes a cover!"
ONE!!
TW--!!
Higgins: "Scott tried to put his opponent away early, but Mark Zout kicks out at the count of two."
The pinned wrestler throws his right fist straight into the air, narrowly missing the referee, forcing his shoulder blade off the canvas. Scott stands, awaiting his opponent, as Zout wearily finds his own feet. As soon as Zout is standing, Scott delivers an Inverted Atomic Drop. Zout, face racked with pain, has no time to tend to the impacted area before Scott takes him by the arm and Irish Whips him into the corner. Zout manages turn his back at the last second so that he impacts the top turnbuckle with his back and shoulders, as opposed to chest first, but this is a small consolation. Scott, with all the force of a runaway locomotive, sprints toward the corner and leaps at his stunned opponent, connecting chest-to-chest with a brutal Running Jumping Corner Splash. Zout stumbles just a few steps away from the corner before Scott captures him in an Inverted Reverse Headlock and falls forward, slamming Zout to the canvas with a Reverse DDT. Scott hooks the supine Zout's leg and covers him back-to-chest.
Higgins: "Inverted Atomic Drop by Caleb Scott, whom follows up with an Irish Whip into the corner and connects with a Corner Splash before capitalizing with a Reverse DDT!"
Glass: "This is what I was talking about when I said Zout couldn't allow Caleb Scott to build this kind of momentum. After suffering a series of moves like that, this one's gonna be wrapped up like the prom king with the cheerleading captain."
Higgins: "That is unbelievably crude, ABG. Here's the cover!"
ONE!!
TWO!!
TH--!!
The official stops the count, noticing the outstretched right hand of Zout is under the bottom rope. Scott shakes his head incredulously, sitting upright. With a sigh of disbelief at his misfortune, he stares down at Zout, who still hasn't moved from the position he was in when pinned, and Zout's middle and index fingertips, lying just barely beneath the bottom rope. Scott rubs his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, then slowly rises to his feet. Zout, too, stirs.
Higgins: "We thought it was all said and done, but Mark Zout was blessed with a stroke of fortune there."
Glass: "If he doesn't do something to turn the momentum of this match around soon, it's going to be a stroke of misfortune. The Granite City Sadist feels all too comfortable punishing his opponents when they've got no gas left in the tank."
Zout grabs the ropes, using them to aid him into a standing position. The process is slow, and when he turns to face his opponent, Scott is already running at him. Scott dives forward at Zout with a Spear, but Zout drops back to the mat, pulling the middle rope down with him, and Scott soars right over him, through the ropes, and to the the floor at ringside where he impacts the ground in a less-than-ideal position with his neck and shoulder absorbing the brunt of the force.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Higgins: "Oh my, I'm not sure that was a good way to land, ABG. The way Caleb Scott hit the floor at ringside did not at all look safe. The noise that was produced when he impacted that floor makes me feel sick to my stomach."
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
Glass: "I agree with you, Alex. Seeing a couple guys punish each other is one thing, but it's never good to see somebody land the way Caleb Scott did outside the ring."
SEVEN!!
Higgins: "I know he may be seriously injured, but The Sadist has to find a way to get back to his feet and get back into the ring."
EIGHT!!
It takes Scott a long few moments to recover from the brutal landing he suffered. The time it takes him to recover his bearings and find his feet under himself once more is enough time for Zout to rise, bound off the opposite ropes, and dive through the top and middle ropes head first in the same fashion Scott had a few moments before. In an instant, Zout flips with forward rotation so that he lands against Scott's chest rear-first, driving his opponent to the floor into a supine position. Zout, with his legs split over each side of Scott's head, lands on his feet. He hops onto the barricade just in front of him, and leaps off of it with a backward flip, connecting perpandicularly belly-to-belly on Scott with a Moonsault.
Higgins: "Thank God Caleb Scott is able to stand."
Glass: "He might be a little banged up, but I think he may be okay."
Higgins: "Mark Zout is on the offensive with his Suicide Plancha he calls The Ode to Nirvana! He follows up with a Moonsault from the barricade!"
Glass: "All he had to do was rest up in the ring and hope the former Global Champion was unable to reenter before Joe Trotter could count to ten, but he puts his body on the line here."
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
FOUR!!
Zout helps Scott to his feet, only to Irish Whip him toward the steel steps at ringside. Scott manages to turn quickly so that he impacts the steps with his back instead of his knees, but unfortunately, this also takes a toll on the same left shoulder he had previously landed poorly on. Scott unleashes a howl of pain as the top steps seperate from the bottom and his chain-wrapped baseball bat is sent rolling along the floor of the outside.
FIVE!!
SIX!!
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
Higgins: "Another brutal impact to The Sadist's shoulder on the outside of the ring!"
Zout is upon Scott before he can stand and delivers a hard kick to Scott's left shoulder with the steel steps behind it.
NINE!!
Glass: "One of these guys has to get back in the ring NOW or this thing is going to be over in a draw!"
Taking Scott by the same arm he had just kicked into the steel steps, Zout rolls into the ring and pulls his opponent in after him. Scott, with his hurt arm twisted, forms a fist with his right hand and begins to swing it at the midsection of his opponent. Zout reads the attack, however, and yanks back on the arm, bringing Scott closer to the center of the ring and stifling the attack as Scott is forced into a prone position on the mat. Zout squats down above Scott's shoulder, applying a Squatting Arm Bar.
Higgins: "I'm not sure how smart it was for Zout to bring his opponent back into the ring. That was his second possible opportunity to win by count-out."
Glass: "Mark Zout wants a decisive victory. He's still new in this company and he has to show the rest of the locker room that he deserves a spot on the card. You don't get there by taking count-out or disqualification victories. You get there by beating your opponent in the center of that ring."
Higgins: "Mark Zout has applied a Squatting Arm Bar to the injured shoulder of Caleb Scott!"
Glass: "They're in the center of the ring, Alex. Caleb Scott has no where to go. He's a tough S.O.B., but there is only so much punishment one man can take."
Scott pounds and claws at the canvas, vigorously denying the Joe Trotter permission to call the match off. Too far in the center of the ring to find a rope break, and unable to continue in this position for any further length of time, it is out of desperation as much as ingenuity that Scott picks the ankle of Zout and trips him into a prone position on the mat. Zout is forced to release the hold to save himself from an unprotected collision of his face with the canvas. Scott nurses his shoulder with a quivering breath as he relies entirely on his own determination to stand and continue the fight.
Higgins: "I can't believe it, but Caleb Scott fights through the pain and finds a way to escape the hold applied to that shoulder."
Glass: "Yeah, Alex, he's tough as nails, but you have got to wonder how much damage that left shoulder can endure and how it may affect him in the match going forward."
Scott waves the referee aside, rolling his left should in small circles in an attempt to loosen it back up. Zout is upon him again, though, and catches the former Global Champion in the midsection with the toe of his shoe. Zout grasps Scott's injured arm and places a foot on the same shoulder, stretching the limb to it's limit before falling backward to the mat, driving his heel into Scott's shoulder. Scott reels back, holding the shoulder, and leans into the ropes in front of the entrance ramp.
Glass: "Another punishing blow to the shoulder of Caleb Scott!"
Higgins: "Mark Zout drove the sole of his shoe into Caleb Scott's shoulder, using The Granite City Sadist's own body weight against him."
Glass: "Earlier I was wereful of Zout allowing Scott too much momentum, but Caleb Scott has got to find a way to turn this fight around now before Mark Zout runs away with the match."
Zout rolls backward and charges Scott, but the would-be victim of his charge ducks low and thrusts upward, sending Zout flying over the top rope. Zout grasps the top rope on his way over and finds his feet on the apron, landing behind Scott. Zout drives a Vertical Elbow Strike into the left shoulder of Scott and slingshots back over the top rope, looking to connect with a Slingshot Sit-Out Crevaet Jaw-Breaker, but Scott catches one of Zouts legs and sends him spinning, driving Zout's back and shoulders into the center of the ring as he sits out.
Higgins: "Mark Zout charges Caleb Scott down, but Scott counters with an Alley-Oop to the outside. Zout lands on the ring apron and delivers another shot to that injured shoulder. Zout looks to connect with a Slingshot Sit-Out Jawbreaker, but Caleb Scott catches his opponent offgard with a Blue Thunder Bomb!"
Glass: "Unbelievable, Alex! Just when I was ready to count him out, Caleb Scott reaches down deep and delivers a mountainous powebomb! That's gonna stop Mark Zout dead in his tracks."
Higgins: "It might, ABG, but the question now is how much gas does either of these men have left in the tank?"
Both competitors lay in the center of the ring and the referee, unsure of what to do, begins a count for the competitors to answer before he calls the match a draw.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Both competitors begin to stir. Scott nurses his shoulder, unable to hide the grit of his teeth as he writhes, looking to collect his knees under himself. Zout rolls into a prone position, huffing with the side of his face against the mat as he wills the palms of his hands flat against the canvas to push himself up.
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
Scott grunts as he uses both arms to create a base for himself. He is positioned on both hands and knees and exhales heavily as he raises his head, beginning to collect his bearings. Zout brings his knees forward, one at a time, resting the top of his head against the mat after he pushes his arms straight.
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
NINE!!
Scott has found his feet under himself and closes in on his opponent, disregarding the referee's count. His face wears an expression of determination, or perhaps anger. As Zout finds his second foot under himself, still bent down, Scott grabs him by the back of the head and tilts his face up to drive a heavy right fist into it. Zout stumbles back a step, reeling from the blow, but steps back toward his opponent, responding with a backhand chop.
Glass: "I wasn't sure either man would answer the referee's count, but the battle is back underway. These guys are launching artillery shots at each other. This ring is a war zone!"
Scott takes a step back now, but recovers his ground with another strong right fist. Zout fires back with a right forearm strike. Scott retorts with another loaded right hand, and Zout meets the force with an equal right forearm strike. The two pick up the pace of their strikes, exchanging unprotected blows, each with a grip on the other's head with vigor and a refusal to be the first to lose steam. The crowd roars with each blow, but it is Scott that finds his groove first.
Higgins: "Neither man is attempting to protect himself. They're throwing all their energy into offense. A war zone is right, ABG, and this is a battle of attrition!"
Scott connects two unanswered blows in a row before Zout can respond once, then twice more. Sensing his advantage in momentum, Scott catches Zout's next strike attempt and uses the caught limb to whip Zout into the corner. Zout slumps just slightly into the corner and Scott mounts the middle turnbuckle, standing tall above his opponent. He raises his right fist high into the air, holding Zout's face in place with his left hand, and begins unleashing blow after blow into Zout's skull. The crowd chants along with each strike.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
FOUR!!
FIVE!!
SIX!!
SEVEN!!
EIGHT!!
NINE!!
TEN!!
Higgins: "Ten Count Punches in the corner delivered by Caleb Scott! The audience is electric!"
Scott releases his grip on Zout's head and dismounts the turnbuckle. Zout stumbles a few steps out of the corner before collapsing to one knee. Scott backs into the ropes, using their tension to aid him with his speed as he runs forward, driving his knee into Zout's face. Zout crumples to the canvas and Scott motions to the crowd that this match will soon be over.
Glass: "Grim Death! Start the bus! Mark Zout put up a good fight, but Caleb Scott is about to wrap this up."
Scott grabs the leg of Zout and rolls his shoulders over Zout's midsection, capturing his head in the process. As he rolls through, finding his feet, he lifts Zout into a Fireman's Carry. Standing tall in the center of the ring with his opponent atop his shoulders, Scott unleashes a battle cry as he drops Zout into a Belly-to-Back Piledriver. The move never connects, however. Zout grapevines his legs around Scott's right arm and manipulates Scott's left arm into a Key Lock. As Scott sits out to connect with his Final Resting Place finishing maneuver, Zout has him trapped in a seated crucifix Americana.
Higgins: "Caleb Scott looks to connect with The Final Resting Place, and he does NOT! Mark Zout has reversed The Granite City Sadist's finishing maneuver into a Crucifix Americana!"
Glass: "Zout has the hold locked in on the injured arm! Caleb Scott has no where to go!"
Scott attempts to find a way out of the hold that applies a great deal of pressure to his targeted arm, but the ropes are too far from him in the center of the ring and he is given no route for escape. Despite this, Scott refuses permission to the official to call off the match. He fights with every but of his will, ending up slumped to the side with his the side of his head against the canvas and his right arm hanging limply in the air, being supported only by the Leg grapple Zout has applied. The official, unable to recieve any further response from Scott, raises the man's arm so that it is straight and then releases it. It falls limply from the elbow.
Glass: "Caleb Scott has no quit in him! I can't believe he hasn't tapped out!"
ONE!!
Higgins: "He hasn't tapped out, ABG, but I'm not sure he's still conscious!"
The referee raises Scott's right arm to straight again and the results are the same.
TWO!!
Glass: "That's two, Alex! Caleb Scott has to dig deep and find a way to keep fighting if he's going to survive this hold!"
The referee nervously raises the right arm of Scott for the last time, steadying it before he releases the wrist and takes a step back. The crowd is on the edge of their seats in silent anticipation when Scott's arm falls limply a final time.
THREE!!
Higgins: "Unbelievable! Caleb Scott refused to tap out, but he couldn't stay conscious through the pain."
Glass: "Yeah, he's one of the toughest guys in the locker room, but Mark Zout had him tangled up like a spider monkey. He had no way to escape!"
The referee instructs Zout to release the hold, which he does immediately, and signals to the Time Keeper. The bell rings and the referee raises Zout's arm in victory. As Fireflight's Unbreakable takes over the PA System, the electronic rock shares the speakers with the voice of Charity Langston.
Langston: "Your winner, at a time of twenty minutes and fourty-eight seconds, by way of Technical Knock Out... Every Cool Kid, MARK ZOUT!"
Zout winces, holding the back of his head as he looks back to his opponent who is just beginning to stir. He gives a nod of respect in Scott's direction before he ducks between the middle and top ropes and hops down to the floor, stepping over the chain-wrapped baseball bat on his way up the entrance ramp, hobling slightly as he goes.
Higgins: "What a match! Mark Zout emerges victorious against Caleb Scott on Friday Night Combat. I count myself lucky to have seen it first hand!"
Glass: "No joke. These guys put it all on the line and left nothing behind. I can't wait to see what else happens tonight!"
Match 3
John Blade vs Mr Determination
Blade and Determination forego the typical lock up to begin the match, with Blade delivering 3 jabs to Determination and the latter returning serve before John kicks him in the stomach and drops him to the mat with a snap DDT. Without a moment's hesitation, Blade hits a spinning belly to belly suplex on Determination before attempting a dropkick when he stands, only to be swatted away by Determination, who then connects with a backbreaker before letting Blade drop to the mat. Lifting him up, Determination then goes for a STO, only to be countered by Blade driving his elbow into Determination's temple, then hitting him with an armbar takedown. Releasing the armbar, John connects with a gutwrench suplex before attempting a pin, which only nets him a 1 and 1/4 count.
Alex: If there's one thing that John Blade is known for, it's his heart. But that's something Mr. Determination is known for too. Neither man has an ounce of quit in them.
Arthur: You need more than heart to be successful in wrestling though ---.
Alex: Do you always have to be like this?
Arthur: I'm just saying. But yes, both men have heart. Which one of them has the desire to win though? That is what this match will hopefully be able to tell us.
Blade then bounces off the ropes, hitting a basement dropkick to Determination, sending him back onto the mat, before lifting him and going for a northern lights suplex, only for it to be countered into a DDT by Determination. Wanting to keep the pressure on, Determination connects with a leg drop before lifting up Blade and hitting him with a side slam, then a wrist clutch knee strike into a pin attempt, getting a 1 and 1/2 count.
Alex: I could hear that knee strike from here.
Arthur: Sudden impact and drvastrating. Just the way Mr. Determination likes it.
Vance then attempts a Belly to belly suplex, only for it to be blocked by Blade, who then mongolian chops Determination to force himself free before hitting him with a discus forearm, rocking him and leaving him open for a firemans carry facebuster. Looking out to the fans in attendance, Blade pauses for them before hitting a swinging heel kick to the side of Determinations head, causing him to drop to the mat like a sack of potatoes. Hitting the ropes, Blade then hits a jumping knee drop to Determination's head before pulling him up by the wrists, only to drop him to the mat with a neckbreaker, before going for a pin attempt, getting a 2 count.
Alex: Blade getting back into the fight now. Trying to put Determination away once and for all.
Not allowing himself to be thrown off, Blade connects with a northern lights suplex, following up with bouncing off the ropes and hitting a fist drop. Looking out to the fans once more, he uses their energy to fuel him before hoisting Determination onto his shoulders --- only for the latter to slither off him and surprise him with a running clothesline. Determination then hits a jumping knee strike once Blade rises, causing him to fall back onto the mat, before Determination connects with a pendulum backbreaker, but his attempt at the pin is countered by a schoolboy roll up, getting another 2 count.
Arthur: Sneaky, but I like it.
Slapping the mat in slight annoyance, Blade decides to simply return his focus to Vance, hitting him with a shoulder tackle, then another when Determination rises before letting out a roar, pumping himself up with the crowd's adulation and respect. Lifting Vance, he connects with a spinning powerbomb before hitting a falcon arrow and hooking the legs
1….
2…
3…
Arthur: What a debut win here for John Blade! We will not forget this name!
Match 4
Sofie Diamantis vs Alliyah Landerson
Higgins: "I'm still trying to get over John Blade and Mr. Determination's match, ABG."
Glass: "Well get over it, Alex. We've got a couple of women about to brawl. I hope there's some hair pulling."
Higgins: "You never cease to disgust me."
The lights of the arena dim and every one's attention is turned to the entry way. We hear Charity Langston introduce the next event.
Langston: "The next is a singles match to be determined by one fall, officiated by Ashly Neal."
Hell on Heels by Pistol Annies lulls over the speaker system and we see a man walk backward from backstage. He stoops low and the camera he holds flashes several times at the woman who struts out after him wearing a robe. She blows kisses to the crowd before continuing her catwalk down toward the ring, paying the personal photographer no heed.
Langston: "Introducing first; from Thessoloniki, Greece, standing at five feet, seven inches, and weighing one hundred twenty pounds... SOFIE DIAMANDIS!"
Sofie stops by a young fan holding an Ally Landerson sign and convinces her to let her inspect it. The girl hesitantly hands the sign over and Sofie rips it in half. As the girl bursts into tears, Sofie mocks her, rubbing her fists below her eyes. Her personal photographer, Nico, snaps some candid pics of the event that are instantaly displayed on the video tron at the top of the entry way. The crowd in attendance immediately burst into jeers. As the fans roar their disapproval, Sofie laughs, flipping a hand through her hair, and continues toward the ring.
Higgins: "Sofie Diamandis is a new talent in IIW, and it didn't take her long to establish her role here."
Glass: "I've said it before, Alex. Being liked is over rated. We're seeing a woman who is comfortable playing mind games not only with her opponents, but the fans, as well!"
Sofie walks up the steel steps at ringside, walks along the apron, and waits by the ropes. Her photographer is snapping pictures of her, but she screams at him, pointing at the ropes. Nicole scrambles up on the apron and spreads the middle and bottom ropes apart. Sofie flashes him a fake smile and insincere thanks before ducking low between the ropes and making her way to the center of the ring. Once there, she slips the robe off, revealing a scantily clad wrestling attire. Nico's camera is not the only one flashing now. Neal instructs her to her corner and the lights dim.
As the opening notes of Vengo Por Ti by Def Rebel and the bellow of Buyaka Buyaka hits the speakers the crowd erupts into cheers.
The spotlight circles around the arena before settling on a figure in pink and black hoodie who kneels on one knee, praying. She burst to her feet, pointing around to the crowd, and takes off down the entrance ramp.
Langston: "And her opponent: from San Jose, California, standing at five feet, four inches, and weighing one hundred fourteen pounds... She is the Princess of the Six One Nine, AALIYAH LANDERSON!"
Aaliyah is halfway down the entrance ramp, passing out high fives, when she notices the debris of the sign on the ground. She stops to talk to the young fan who had been mocked by her opponent before reaching into her hoodie to retrieve a replica of her luchador mask, which she hands to the girl before giving her a pat on the head. She then points a finger at her opponent, yelling a threat. The crowd pops again as she runs toward the ring.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson is coming off a win in a Triple Threat Match, where she defeated two other women on the last installment of Friday Night Combat!"
Glass: "And what a brawl that was! They even ended up fighting in the audience!"
Aaliyah climbs into the ring and mounts the top turnbuckle, extending her fingers into the air as the crowd cheers again.
From behind, Diamandis grabs Landerson by the hair and pulls her down from the turnbuckle onto the back of her head, following up with several stomps to the head and face. The crowd erupts into jeers and the lights come up. Neal does her best to interpose herself between Diamandis and the grounded Landerson. Neal shoves Diamandis back, who sneers at Landerson. Landerson picks herself up, rubbing her nose and looking to her hand to inspect it for blood. Her eyes narrow at her opponent, ready to serve her payback. Now that Neal has taken control of the match, the referee signals to the Time Keeper to begin the match and the bell sounds.
DING!!
DING!!
Higgins: "The level of disrespect from newcomer, Sofie Diamandis, is sickening! Aaliyah Landerson didn't even have a chance to see that attack coming. Diamandis sprung on her before the bell had even sounded!"
Glass: "THAT is ruthless aggression, Alex. We're seeing a woman who wants to win at any cost and personally, I'm happy to see it."
The two women leave their corners as soon as the bell sounds. Diamandis looks to deliver a running strike to Landerson, but Landerson is atop her with a Lous Thesz Press. Both women hit the mat, but Landerson holds the mounted position and fires several forearm strikes into the face of Diamandis. Diamandis, with nowhere to go, snakes an eye jab past the bridge of Landerson's nose and grabs a handful of her hair, rolling so that it is she whom holds the top mount now. With a banshee's scream and a string of insults, Diamandis repeatedly drives the head of Landerson into the canvas, using The Princess' hair as a handle. Neal warns her about the use of her opponent's hair, and Diamandis reluctantly releases her hold before slapping Landerson, who holds her battered head, hard across the face.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson takes an early lead with a Lous Thesz Press, but Sofie Diamandis gouges her eyes and utilizes her hair in an unsportsmanlike retaliation."
Glass: "I knew I'd get to see some hairpulling!"
Diamandis rises and makes a heart shape with her hands to the audience before breaking the symbol apart with a sneer. She laughs as they boo her, but they quickly change to cheers as Landerson comes from behind with a Bulldog, driving Diamandis' face into the canvas. Landerson holds Diamandis in a headlock on the mat and drives repeating fists into her opponent's face. Diamandis endures several blows before using the bottom rope to pull herself out of the ring, breaking the hold. Landerson stands at the ropes, taunting Diamandis to reenter the ring and face her, but Diamandis waves her off and begins walking toward the entrance ramp.
Higgins: "Where on Earth is Sofie Diamandis going?"
Glass: "I think she's done, Alex. She has nothing to prove to you or any of these people in the arena."
As Daimandis gets to the base of the entrance ramp, Landerson has climbed to the top turnbuckle and soars now through the air. Diamandis' personal photographer, Nico, points behind her at the bird-likr Landerson, and Diamandis turns just in time for Landerson to wrap her legs around her head in a scissors and whip through the air, throwing Diamandis back toward the ring with the momentum of the flying grapple. Landerson grabs Diamandis by the back of her neck and her tights and rolls her back into the ring.
Higgins: "Whether she wants to be done or not, I don't think Aaliyah Landerson is going to give Sofie Daimandis a choice! A magnificent flying headscissor takedown stops the fleeing Diamandis in her tracks."
Glass: "That was Landerson's way of saying, 'Oh no you don't,' and, 'get back in this ring!'"
Landerson scales the ringpost from the outside and jumps one hundred eighty degrees atop the top turnbuckle, splitting her legs across the top ropes as she comes down, which catapults her into a moonsault onto Diamandis. Diamandis tries again to roll out of the rings, but Landerson climbs halfway over the ropes, catching Diamandis by the hair as she's halfway off the apron, and pulls her back up to a standing position on the apron. Diamandis swings at Landerson with a slap, but Landerson ducks the blow. Driving her upper body through the top and middle ropes, Landerson connects with a shoulder thrust to Diamandis' midsection. Diamandis doubles over and Langston reaches over the ropes and grapples her in a suplex. Landerson backs up a few paces as she holds Diamandis in the vertical position, then drops her forward. Diamandis' legs bounce off the top ropes and Landerson spins her one hundred eighty degrees horizontally and sits out with a facebuster. The crowd is ecstatic!
Glass: "Aaliyah, just let her go!"
Higgins: "Turnabout is fair play, ABG. Aaliyah Landerson lands a devastating Falcon's Arrow on Sofie Diamandis!"
Landerson twists the arm of Diamandis, working it into a Hammer Lock and hooks a leg, rolling Diamandis into a hammerlock roll up. Ashly Neal is in position and begins the count.
ONE!!
TWO!!
TH--!!
Diamandis finds a way to escape the pin. As Diamandis is attempting to stand, Landerson somersaults over her, hooking the leg and head. Again, Neal counts.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THR--!!
Diamandis gets a shoulder up, but Landerson rolls her right into another pin attempt.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE--!!
Higgins: "Several quick pin attempts by Aaliyah Landerson, but none of them are quite enough to put Daimandis away."
Again, Diamandis gets a shoulder off the mat. Landerson is up quickly and bounds off the ropes, looking to connect with a Leg Lariat. As she is in the air, however, Diamandis lunges off the mat, catching Landerson by the hair, and pulls her straight down into the canvas, another banshee scream accompanying the counter-attack. Diamandis lifts Landerson by the hair to her knees and drags her by the same hold to the ropes, Landerson kicking her legs behind her as she grabs desperately at the hands that hold her by the hair. Diamandis presses Landerson's face against the middle rope and drags her across it. Landerson let's loose a pained scream as she graps at her rope burned face and Diamandis puts her heel on the back of Landerson's head, forcing the luchador's throat into the middle rope. Neal warns her to stop, but Diamandis stands now with both feet across the back of Landerson's neck, pulling up against the top rope. Neal's count for a rope break nearly reaches five before Diamandis releases the hold, returning to her feet on the mat. As Neal attempts to chide her for The illegal use of the ropes, Diamndis puts a hand in front of the official's face and turns her head away. The crowd holds back no disdain for the woman.
Glass: "Sofie Daimandis is showing us exactly why she belongs in the IIW. Look at the way she just took control of this match, Alex."
Huggins: "There is no way we just watched the same thing, ABG. Daimandis has a blatant disregard for the rules and for the official. These are not the kind of values IIW supports!"
Glass: "Values? You're delusional, old friend. The IIW brass doesn't care about values. They care about winning, and right now Sofia Daimandis is winning!"
Landerson is left sputtering and gasping for breath as Nico snaps a few close-ups of her. This infuriates Diamandis, who scolds him and gestilicates that she is who he is paid to photograph. As she finishes arguing with Nico, Diamandis turns back to face Landerson, who still lays on the mat, but has rolled away from the ropes. Diamandis reaches down to grab her opponent by the hair once more, but Landerson, who by this time was playing opossum, rolls her up in a small package. Neal is ready.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE-- KICKOUT!!
____________________
As the two women clamor to their feet, Diamands rushes Landerson in a fit of rage, her scream as she charges giving her emotions away. Landerson is quick to trip her with a Drop Toe Hold, however, sending Diamandis to be hung up on the middle rope by her chest. Landerson runs up behind Diamandis and threads her legs through the middle and too ropes, swinging her legs into the face of the social media influencer. Diamandis flies back from the blow, landing supine in the center of the ring.
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson is showing us why she is The Princess of the Six One Nine!"
Landerson mounts the top rope and leaps from her perch, connecting soundly into the ribs of Diamandis with a huge Frog Splash. Ashly Neal counts the pin along with the audience.
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
Neal motions to the Time Keeper and raises Landerson's hand and she celebrates in the center of the ring with Def Rebel's Vengo Por Ti playing in the background.
Langston: "The winner of the match, at a time of eleven minutes and thirty-four seconds, by way of pin fall... The Princess of the Six One Nine, AALIYAH LANDERSON!"
Higgins: "Aaliyah Landerson takes it home with the Landerson Frog Splash!"
Glass: "Was a wardrobe malfunction too much to ask?"
Higgins: "I think you've got a malfunction, ABG."
Match 5
Hardcore Jono vs eddie Charisma
Without even waiting for Eddie to engage with him, Jono lifts him into the air and body slams him to the mat, before bouncing off the ropes and connecting with a leg drop before standing. Not wanting to even let his opponent breathe, Jono pulls him to his feet before wrapping him into a bearhug and driving him into the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Smirking, he rises, attempting to connect with a big boot to Eddie's head when he attempts to rush him, only for Chrisma to side step before kicking him in the calf to cause the bigger man to stagger, though his superkick attempt is blocked by Jono's hands, who then connects with a Saito suplex, following up with a pin that gets a 2 count.
Arthur: Jono showing once again that he doesn't get paid by the hour and just wants to get the job done.
Alex: Who wouldn't? Especially when you're trying to carve his name out in the combat brand. Show management what he is capable of.
Jono, not reacting to Eddie kicking out, simply turns to pick him up, only for Eddie to surprise him with an armdrag, followed by a jumping DDT when he rises to his feet. Fueled by both the crowd and his second wind, he bounces off the ropes and connects with a leaping lariat when Jono stands, followed by a standing moonsault into a knee drop. His momentum is halted with a thud when he attempts to hit a reverse DDT as Jono twists out ot the move before laying him out with a lariat. A follow up powerbomb, leading to another 2 count.
Arthur: I'm really liking this aggression from Jono. He knows Eddie has heart, so he's trying to completely strip it away from him, the only way he knows how.
Alex: You do know Eddie can come back at any moment, right?
Arthur: He can, but will he? Jono sure doesn't think so, nor will he allow him to do so
Alex: How are you so sure?
Arthur: Trust me.
Jono then lifts Eddie up and locks in a bearhug, looking to make his foe tap out, even as Eddie attempts to drill him with punches. After about 30 seconds, Eddie is able to break free, only to be met with a violent knee strike by Jono, who then coldly stares at him before driving him into his knee with a face buster before nailing him with a belly to back suplex, this time holding on to get a 2 and 1/2 count.
Jono slides out of the ring and grabs a baseball bat from under the ring, inside the ring he starts wailing on Eddie Charisma…. Who is not responsive as the ref pushes him off. The ref calls for the bell as the security come down to escort Hardcore Jono away from the scene!
Match 5
World Title
Crush vs El Landerson
Crush attempts to intimidate his challenger to start the match off, only for Landerson to stun him with sharp kicks to the calves, followed by leaping into the air and attempting to bring the champion down with a jumping DDT --- though Crush instead simply tosses him up and over with a back body drop. Not wanting to give his opponent even a sniff of the match, Crush lays him out with a big boot, before quickly and arrogantly going for a pin attempt, netting him only a 1 count.
Arthur: Crush sees El Landerson as being nothing more than a message to be sent. Aj example to be made off, and I can't blame him for thinking that.
Alex: Neither can I, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be careful. Landerson could very well be walking out of here with the world championship.
Arthur: I highly doubt that will happen.
Pulling El Landerson up with him, Crush hits a vertical suplex, before looking for a leg drop - a move that Landerson is able to evade by rolling out of the way. He is even able to land a dropkick on the champion before hitting the ropes and going for a springboard moonsault, even if Crush ends up getting his knees up to wind the champion. Using this to his advantage, Crush connects with a violent uppercut followed by a samoan drop to almost crush the masked underdog, then pulling him up by the mask and driving him to the mat with a powerbomb. The resultant cover once again, only manages a 2 count.
both men explode forward into a lock-up. The two totter back and forth, neither gaining an advantage. Landerson uses his slight weight advantage to push Crush back to the ropes only to get a knee to the groin for his trouble. Landerson raises his hands high in mercy, and Crush backs off slowly.
Alex: Well, that was a little anticlimactic.
Arthur: Crush comes from a mixed background of Japanese strong style and lucha libre—
Alex: Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…
Crush goes for another lock-up, but Landerson does a roll behind. Landerson grasps Crush around his waist, and attempts for a German suplex. Crush grabs Landerson's hands, struggles out of the grip, and reverses Landerson into a hammerlock. He shoves him into the ropes but Landerson reverses the hold behind Crush. Landerson throws Crush to the opposite ropes only to have him come charging back, looking for a clothesline. Landerson drops to his stomach and Crush hops over him, spins around and catches Landerson solidly with a spinning heel kick as he rises. Landerson goes down hard and Crush immediately locks him into a sleeper hold. Landerson strains for the ropes, but he's too far away. Jimmy Schultz raises Landerson's hand, only for it to drop back to the canvas.
ONE!
He raises the hand again, only for it to drop one more time.
TWO!
Arthur: This is absolutely...
Alex:: It won't end like this
Jimmy Schultz raises the hand once more, and this time it stops mid-air. Landerson elbows Crush in the stomach, and follows it up with two more. This doubles over Crush, making him perfect bait for a body slam. Crush grabs his spine from the move, wincing as Landerson goes to carefully pick him up by his head. Crush explodes to life at the touch and hooks Landerson for a suplex. Landerson blocks it and Crush sends him staggering back with a few stiff backhand chops. Once more Crush tries to take him over with a suplex but Landerson blocks it. Crush breaks off and springs off the middle rope, nailing Landerson in the face with a springboard lariat.
Alex:: BORING, BORING, BORING!
Arthur: Quiet down, they might hear you.
Crush seems to hear Alex, going over to the ropes nearest to the announce table. He points right at Alex and then to his own eyes before springing up onto the top rope, watching while Landerson lays on the canvas, clearly dazed. He turns around and springboards off the middle rope, and then the top rope before nailing the staggering Landerson clean with the BONE CRUSHER
Crush drops to the mat and hooks the leg deep, making a cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
