OOC: Glad to see you made it here, bro. I copied your promo over, as I am sure you saw, just to make sure it got counted.

The scene opens in the Audience Hall in the Dream Realm. As the camera pans in, it becomes clear that the throne is empty, though the torches still burn in their sconces. The camera pans off to the left, settling for a moment on the table off to the side of the dais where a game of Checkers is usually in play. This time, however, the remnants of a game of Chess lie scattered across the table.

The camera continues panning further to the right, when finally a figure can be seen silhouetted against the great window that overlooks the ever-changing landscape of the Dreaming. The deep purple sky offers more light than the minimal illumination offered by the torches inside, so at first the silhouette is blurred and unclear. As the camera adjusts to the light, it becomes clear that the figure standing in the window is Morpheus.

He is standing with his back to the camera, arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders visibly moving as though his hands are busy, though the bulk of his frame blocks the camera from seeing what they might be doing. He continues gazing out the window, turning his head slightly as a pterodactyl flies past the window in pursuit of a dwarf in a glider plane. His attention turns slightly once again as red lightning flashes from the sky, splitting an old willow tree in the distance. His attention never turns away from the window, however, and after a long moment of silence, he finally begins to speak.

Morpheus: I don’t even know where to start.

I’ve never been the sort of person who wears their heart on their sleeve. Not surprising, when you think about it. After so many eras with the weights of worlds on one’s shoulders, one either develops a strong, rigid foundation to carry it, or one droops and buckles under the weight.

The problem then becomes the fine line between a solid foundation and an impenetrable wall.

I suppose I should be careful when using the word problem in this instance. After all, that impenetrable wall has served me well for so long, it’s hard to imagine what existence would have been like without it. It’s different for the average person, who needs connections and interactions with others in order to lead truly fulfilling lives. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, I am not saddled by such a need.

I learned long ago that it’s difficult to want to form such connections, when right from the start you have the knowledge that everything you come to know and care for is transient and will pass on while you remain behind, mourning the loss of that connection.

Who Wants To Live Forever?

I suppose it’s not as bad for me as it might be for others in similar situations. Not that there are a whole lot of them, mind you, but that’s a separate point entirely.

You could say that being the Master of the Dream Realm has its privileges. Without getting into any metaphysical debates about the afterlife and what happens to something when it dies, when that natural physiological inevitability does come to pass, the only thing that remains of that entity are memories held by those it leaves behind.

And what is the Dream Realm but a plane of infinite potential shaped by the thoughts, desires, and memories of Dreamers?

Morpheus looks down for a moment, before his head rises again and his gaze returns its focus out the great window.

Morpheus: I can see that you’re beginning to get a little confused about where I’m going with this, so I’ll get to the point. In the Dream Realm, in a way, nothing ever really dies. As long as Memories of them remain, someone can continue to wander the world of Dreams long after their physical forms have ceased walking the waking worlds.

Long ago… Longer ago than I’d truly care to remember, I suffered my first true lost connection.  I had only known true emotional connection with my siblings before, and they, like me, are Endless, so this sort of thing had never even entered my mind. But then, I made the mistake of falling in love…

‘Tis better to have loved and lost?

You could have fooled me.

I was nothing short of devastated. It felt like every inch of my entire soul, as it were, was dying a slow, agonizing death; a death I knew would never actually reach its conclusion. That was the one time I voluntarily shirked my duties and responsibilities as Dream Master, and I went into mourning for an extended period of time, holding vigil at her side, and taking up a sort of twisted temporary residence inside her tomb.

Seriously, these Emo kids today have nothing on me.

A little over a year passed, as you would reckon it, before my little sister came and sat with me one night. She didn’t say a word, she just sat next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. We sat that way all night, until finally, as the sun was starting to peek its first rays over the horizon and its new light flooded the open doorway, she said to me, so softly I could barely hear…

“It’s Time.”

I nodded my head slowly, and she stood up, stooped down and kissed my cheek, and giggled as she skipped off out the door and down the hill, disappearing from sight. After another long moment, I finally rose, said my goodbyes to my love, and returned to my post at the helm of the Dreaming.

When I returned, things were in a disastrous state. Nightmares were running amok completely unchecked and wreaking havoc, while some Daydreams decided to overstep their bounds causing an epidemic of comas across several worlds that were never medically explained. On top of all that, Aspiration, who was one of my cabinet members, if I could be said to have had such a thing, took up drinking under the stress of de facto leadership in my absence and accidentally asexually spawned Depression, who we’re still struggling to get back under control.

It’s amazing how quickly things devolve into Chaos without someone there to keep things in check.

It was a massive undertaking just to return things to some semblance of order around here. It completely occupied my mind and demanded every conscious thought I had, and for the first time since her death, I was no longer consumed with anguish and thoughts of my beloved Ariella.

I was able to focus my mind on the task at hand, and truly reclaim my place as Master of the Dreaming, exerting my control back over my domain and righting the things that had been made wrong in my absence. When I finally looked around and saw that my work was at long last finished, I sat on my throne… That very throne right there, in fact… And I rested. I closed my eyes for a moment, satisfied with a job well done.

I felt a hand rest on my arm.

Her hand.

I opened my eyes and looked to my right, and I saw her standing there, smiling at me just as she had always been. I was overtaken with joy, and the next days were celebrated with feasts and grand parties the likes of which had never been seen in the Dream Realm before. And that’s saying something, trust me.

It was then that I first realized the principle I mentioned before, that nothing ever truly dies in the Dream Realm. Just as Legends live on in the waking world long after their subjects have passed on, Memories live on forever on this side of the veil.

As time went on, I reveled in the lifetimes upon lifetimes I got to spend with Ariella; much more time than we would have had even if she had lived to the fullness of her days. At the same time, though, my understanding of this principle developed more fully until I realized the fundamental truth that was at the center.

In the Dream Realm, Memories live on forever.

And that’s exactly what they were.

Memories.

And that’s exactly what she was.

A Memory.

Once that realization struck me, I suppose I started being a bit more observant while I was around her, and I started noticing things that had escaped my attention before. The way she moved, the way she would always be at just the right angle for me to see her just how I remembered her in a given situation, the way she always did things just the way she had done them before.

After some time, another realization dawned on me: She never did anything new. Everything she did and said was something that I had seen her do or say while she was still… While she still lived. I spent some time away from her, thinking on exactly what was going on, and that’s when the full understanding of what was going on hit me. She was a Memory, not the real thing. She wasn’t Ariella.

The woman that I loved was gone. Truly gone.

This was just a Shadow.

And that’s all Memories are – Shadows of things we once held dear.

Or things we fear…

From that day on, I began to distance myself from Ariella, trying to separate her in my mind from her living Shadow. In time, the Shadow began to fade, until the day came that she disappeared entirely. From time to time, I still see her wandering about the Dream Realm, and whenever we see each other, we always meet with a smile, but it never goes any further. It’s strange to have someone you loved so deeply for so long become nothing more than a passing acquaintance.

Morpheus breathes deeply and sighs, looking up toward the sky.

Morpheus: From the day I began to distance myself from Ariella’s Shadow, I also began pondering the nature of these connections – what they were, how they formed, their effects  while they existed as well as when they ended.

I suppose this very subject has been the topic of many a philosophical rumination, and you’ll probably find as many different viewpoints as there are viewers. However, I look at things through a drastically different lens than most. A much longer lens, as it were. I came to the conclusion that these emotional connections, while powerful and in some ways euphoric as they occurred, lead to even more powerful pain and suffering when the connection is severed; pain which far outlasted the duration of the connection itself.

It was upon this realization that I decided that it wasn’t worth it. I promised myself I would no longer allow myself to form such connections again.

Morpheus’ gaze follows a bright orange shooting star as it burns across the Dream Realm sky. He looks down at his arms once more, and then returns his focus to the scene outside his window, where a giraffe with a house on its back is running amidst a pride of lions down a major highway set on stilts above a green lake.

Morpheus: I kept that promise. Ariella lived and died on a world that fell out of the sky before the Earth’s Sun was even born, and in all that time since then, I never formed another such connection again.

Now, that’s not to say I’ve been entirely without companionship in all that time. I’ve had trysts, brief relationships, and other sorts of friendships and dalliances over the years. I’ve even had children. Several, in fact, though none in the last few hundred years or so…

But all of those relationships were brief, and I pulled myself away from them the moment I felt a true connection beginning to form. In this way, I managed to stave off the perpetual loneliness that would otherwise have been my fate, as it has been for more than one of my siblings, while upholding the promise I made to myself not to get intertwined into such an emotional trap again.

By remaining free of such emotional tethers, I have been able to focus on my duties and responsibilities as Master of the Dream Realm, and all has been well. I have seen worlds born, and I have seen them crumble to dust after their last soul passed on, and through it all I have been here, at my post, remaining the impartial observer; the good soldier doing exactly what he is meant to do.

You see, there is a very interesting relationship between the Dream Realm and myself. The Dream Realm exists as an extension of myself and the power I have through my responsibility as the Lord of the Dreaming, but at the same time, my existence is predicated on that responsibility. To use an analogy, the Dreaming is the wind beneath my wings, but I am the air that drives that wind. In short, neither of us can exist without the other.

The whole fiasco of everything that happened during my absence from the Dream Realm as I mourned Ariella proved to me beyond any doubt that my responsibilities are more important than anything else in this universe. Anything. By allowing something else to draw my full attention away from my post, I am quite literally inviting disaster to erupt inside my Realm – disasters that bleed through into the waking worlds through their connections to the Dreaming.

Quite simply put, I cannot let that happen.

So for all this time, I have been here, ensuring that order is maintained in a world forged from Potential and rooted in Chaos. I’ve played the role that has been placed in my hands, and I have played it well; without question, and without chaffing under the yoke of responsibility. While I remained an integral part of the waking worlds, I remained aloof from them, separated by my own self-imposed devotion to my work. I, along with all six of my siblings, was always watching, but never interfering.

So it has been written, and so it had been done.

Morpheus sighs deeply, looking down at his crossed arms once more.

Morpheus: And then all Hell broke loose.

Morpheus’ head snaps back up again as what appears to be a mushroom cloud erupts in the far distance. He turns his head to the side as his hair gets whipped around in the wind from the blast, and small bits of debris come flying in the window, a few of which pelt off the camera, as well as the cameraman, who utters a barely audible curse as the wind dies back down, and Morpheus surveys the aftermath.

Morpheus: cYnical began his selfish crusade to bring about the downfall of the God-King Zeus, and in so doing set in motion a series of events that threatened to tear apart the fabric of reality. This forced my hand, and for the first time in the History of Everything, I found myself leaving behind the passive role of observer and taking an active role in preventing the End of All Things from coming to pass.

Of course, as much as I’d like to think I am all-powerful, as within this Realm I essentially am just that, I knew two things. First, that this battle would be taking place not in this Realm, but across the Veil in the waking worlds, and second, that it was going to take more than just myself to ensure the survival of Reality.

Enter The Awakened.

Ultramarcus. Steve Storme. Azreal. The three members of The Awakened that everyone knows. There’s also… Well, no spoilers. I’m sure people will be finding out in time. These three men have had the courage of conviction to stand with me in defense of Reality, using the power of pure Potential found in Dreams as their primary weapon.

Throughout all of time, I have found only a handful of individuals capable of harnessing and controlling that power, and never more than one in a given epoch. The fact that I have found so many at once speaks to just how dire the state of the Universe is.

Each of these three men have stepped up in the face of the Void and fought back against the Dying of the Light. They have stood with me and battled against what even my own siblings deemed an unstoppable foe. They have become pillars of strength in a crumbling world, and in so doing they have become friends. They’ve become people that I care about, and would fight to the death for.

By breaking one ancient vow to remain an impartial observer, I inadvertently led myself to break the other ancient vow I made.

So much for no connections.

We may not all see eye to eye… In fact, it’s extremely rare that we do. But when it comes down to business, I can think of no better people to have standing at my side. I have found myself opening up to them, even as they have done the same to me. I have found that by nature all four of us are not the most open and trusting individuals, and yet we have developed a bond that has allowed us to see past our respective walls.

I’ve wondered what things would have been like had I never let them in, and remained closed off like I had for so long, and I have come to realize that had I done so, things wouldn’t be like anything at all.

The End would have already arrived.

Are these new connections a weakness? Things that will eventually come to haunt me? Quite possibly, the answer is yes. But for the first time since Ariella, I have found myself in such a situation that I don’t care.

I wouldn’t give these connections up if I could.

Fortunately, I can’t, so there’s no use second-guessing myself, eh?

Morpheus chuckles to himself as he moves his left arm, opening his coat.

Morpheus: Actually, there’s one more connection I’ve made.

Morpheus reaches out and lays the LPW World Heavyweight Championship across the windowsill.

Morpheus: It’s funny. I never set out to become the World Champion, and at first it was merely the means to an end. However, as time has gone on, I have grown to like being the Champion. As I have held and defended this Title, the means have become the end itself.

I’ve never been very good with human emotions. The few times I’ve dabbled in them have led to disaster, as I’ve already mentioned. However, I have to admit that I just might be starting to get the hang of them a little bit.

What started as just a pawn in a larger game has turned into a reason for playing that game. This Championship has become more important to me than I might care to admit. I can’t really explain why, either. Although I’m sure the fact that it’s shiny and impressive doesn’t hurt, I think it’s much more than that. At the center of it all, I suppose it’s a form of validation for me.

Proof than I am more than just what I was created to do.

If you had told me even just a couple of years ago that things would be as they are now, I would have laughed in your face. Never in a billion years…

Yet, here we are. I find myself still at the center of a maelstrom, fighting against the current just to remain afloat, and with me are the three people and the one thing I care most about. And, surprisingly enough, those connections are the very things making that fight bearable. They are what is keeping me afloat.

And now here we stand, staring into the face of the DeathCube… On the eve of the aptly named Ragnarok… As I stand here… Alone…

And it looks like all of those connections are about to disappear.

Morpheus heaves a heavy sigh, as a muffled sound is heard coming his direction.

Morpheus: Oh, I know. I’ll still have you.

Voice: That’s sweet, Morph.

Morpheus turns around suddenly, and the camera pans over to the right to find Tromboner Man standing a few feet away.

Morpheus: Teebs?

Tromboner Man: TBM thinks he loves you, too.

Morpheus: What?!? Oh, no, wait, I-

Tromboner Man: Hey, it’s ok. TBM was just making a joke. But seriously, Morph, you do realize you’ve been talking to a cat this whole time, right?

The camera zooms out to show both men, and Morpheus is petting the Dream Cat that Azreal created.

Morpheus: I was just… Wait. How long have you been here, Teebs?

Tromboner Man: Long enough to know you’re either growing a vagina, or getting yourself ready to try out to be the new singer for Dashboard Confessional. Personally, The Tromboner Man hopes it’s the latter.

Morpheus: Oy… Now, why exactly are you here, Teebs?

Morpheus opens his coat and puts Oneiro in one of the inside pockets.

Tromboner Man: Oh, hey! TBM keeps his pet cat there too!

Tromboner Man opens his coat, and the roar of a tiger echoes through the room.

Tromboner Man: Did TBM ever thank you for this super-cool Time Lord coat?

Morpheus: Actually, no.

Tromboner Man: He will.

Morpheus: Oooo… Kay… So, back to my question.

Tromboner Man: Which question was that?

Morpheus: What are you doing here?

Tromboner Man: Sorry, Morph. If TBM is interrupting something private, he’ll gladly leave a tender moment alone and come back at a slightly less gay time.

Morpheus: What? No, it’s not that I don’t want you here, Teebs. I was just wondering why you were here at this exact moment, is all.

Tromboner Man: Well, how else was the cameraman supposed to find his way here?

Morpheus and Tromboner Man both look into the camera, Morpheus scowling and rolling his eyes while TBM smiles and waves. They then turn their attention back to one another.

Morpheus: Awesome.

Tromboner Man: Also, TBM wanted to let you know that he has the answers to the questions you asked him.

Morpheus: You do? And what is the answer?

Tromboner Man: Wait a moment. TBM thinks it might be the proper time to remind the viewing audience just what those questions were. And there’s no better way to do that-

Morpheus: Wait, Teebs. Please don’t do-

Tromboner Man: Than with a cutscene.

Morpheus: I love my life.

Morpheus: You can’t expect the Dream Realm to show you everything Teebs. There’s a lot of things you need to answer for yourself. This is one of them. This is your match to lose. Not cﾘnical’s to win.

Tromboner Man: The Tromboner Man never thought of it like that…

Morpheus:  Can you see yourself defeating cﾘnical at Blistering Inferno? Can you see yourself lining up in the Martinez Cup match? Can you see yourself being the man that Pyromania needs to lead it at Altered Reality Six?

Morpheus: I’m really regretting giving you that key…

Tromboner Man: Don’t lie. It’s morally wrong. Anyway, The Tromboner Man wanted to come here and let you know in person that he thought about the things you asked him, and then he had some ice cream with chocolate sprinkles and Swedish fish, and then he thought about them some more, and he came to a decision in which he decided what the answer to your question is.

A few moments go by as Tromboner Man stands there looking at Morpheus with a stoic smile, if there is such a thing.

Morpheus: ... Well?

Tromboner Man: Well, what?

Morpheus: Well, what is the answer?

Tromboner Man: Oh, TBM thought he already told you. Didn’t he already tell you?

Morpheus: No, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be asking.

Tromboner Man: I suppose you have a point.

Morpheus: I usually do.

Tromboner Man: Fair enough.

Morpheus: So…

Tromboner Man: Wait, why are you asking again? TBM is sure he told you that time.

Morpheus: No, you… I mean, I just didn’t hear you.

Tromboner Man: Oh, sorry, Morph. I didn’t realize. THE ANSWER TO YOUR QUESTIONS IS YES!!!

Morpheus: That’s good to hear, Teebs. That’s very good to hear.

Tromboner Man: TBM THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE TO HEAR THAT!!!

Morpheus: Teebs, you can stop yelling now.

Tromboner Man: WHAT???

Morpheus: I said you can stop yelling now.

Tromboner Man: WHAT???

Morpheus: YOU CAN STOP YELLING NOW!!!

Tromboner Man: Ha! Dyno Might owes TBM five shekels of silver now!

Morpheus: What are you talking about?

Tromboner Man: Dyno Might bet The Tromboner Man he couldn’t get Morpheus to turn red enough to see through all of that corpse paint he likes to wear.

Morpheus looks quizzically at Tromboner Man as he nods silently, clearly pleased with himself. After a moment, Morpheus finally relents and gives a brief smile back.

Morpheus: I get half.

Tromboner Man: Sold!

Morpheus: Well, Teebs, I am very glad that you came here and let me know your answer. It makes me very happy.

Tromboner Man: TBM thought it would, and it looks like he got here just in time.

Morpheus: What do you mean?

Tromboner Man doesn’t reply, but just stares out the window with an intense look on his face. After a moment, Morpheus tries again.

Morpheus: Um, Teebs?

Tromboner Man: Hold on a sec, Morph. TBM is concentrating…

Morpheus: Concentrating on what?

Just then, the ground starts to rumble and shake, and Morpheus and TBM both struggle to maintain their balance. TBM starts jumping up and down in excitement as Morpheus turns toward the window.

Morpheus: What the-

Tromboner Man: It’s the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man!

Sure enough, Stay-Puft lumbers by in front of the window, turns his gaze on the room, and roars, sending a blast of wind in that knocks both men and the cameraman to the ground. As they all struggle to their feet, Morpheus gets a look of deadly resolve on his face. He stands in front of the window, facing the massive head of the Marshmallow beast. He takes a broad stance throws his hands out to his sides, and speaks some words in a language that has long since died out. A bright flash of light overexposes the camera, and as it fades and the view returns, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man is gone.

Morpheus: Damn Muggles.

Tromboner Man: What did you do, Morph?

Morpheus: I took care of business.

Tromboner Man: TBM thinks you crossed the streams.

Morpheus: I don’t even know what that means.

Tromboner Man: Really? How can… Oh, TBM is DEFINITELY getting you a copy of Ghostbusters for Kwanzaa this year.

Morpheus: If I nod and smile, can we move on please?

Tromboner Man: Sure.

Morpheus nods and smiles, which TBM takes as a signal to move on.

Tromboner Man: So, anyway, TBM just wanted to say you’re welcome.

Morpheus: I’m Welcome? For what?

Tromboner Man: For that.

TBM points out the window at where the giant beast made famous by the Ghostbusters franchise stood only moments before.

Morpheus: Wait, I’m Welcome for the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man?

Tromboner Man: Yes.

Morpheus: Why in the world would I be grateful for what you just did?

Tromboner Man: Well, TBM thinks that-

Morpheus: Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? How badly things could have gone wrong?

Tromboner Man: But they didn’t.

Morpheus: They didn’t because I intervened! If I hadn’t put a stop to that thing, there could have been the potential for serious damage to the Dream Realm AND its inhabitants.

Tromboner Man: TBM knows that.

Morpheus: And yet you did it anyway. And you expect me to THANK you for it? Gods Dammit, Teebs! Sometimes I feel like you just don’t think before you do things! Like you’re ruled by impulse, and the impulses of a child no less! If something seems fun, you just do it without even bothering to think about what the repercussions might be! You can’t jus-

Tromboner Man: WILL YOU SHUT THE BLEEP UP AND LET TBM FINISH WHAT HE WAS TRYING TO SAY?!?!?!!!

Morpheus is stunned into silence and stares at Tromboner Man as he breathes heavily, a crease of worry and indignation on his brow.

Morpheus: Fine. Talk.

Tromboner Man: TBM came here to the Dream Realm to let Morpheus know that he helped TBM find his way. Without Morpheus’ pushing and prodding, TBM might never have realized that what Morpheus said before was true: That TBM is worth it. You helped make TBM see that not only does he deserve to defeat cYnical and carry the International Heavyweight Championship into Altered Reality. You helped him see that he CAN defeat cYnical and go to Altered Reality to compete for the Martinez Cup.

Morpheus: Truer words have never been spoken.

Tromboner Man: And now, TBM comes to the Dream Realm to let Morpheus know all of this, and what does he see? He sees Morpheus crying to a cat over a similar crisis of faith!

Morpheus: Now, hold on a minute. I wasn’t crying.

Tromboner Man: Crying. Turning Emo. Same difference. Hey, would you like TBM to help you put on a sweater and comb your hair over one eye?

Morpheus: No. Not even a little.

Tromboner Man: Then snap out of it! TBM made a pact with you to help each other make it to Altered Reality 6 so we can face each other in the most Epic of Epic Matches in all of History. You’ve held up your end of the bargain, and TBM offers his thanks. Now, TBM is here to hold up his.

Morpheus: I don’t…

Tromboner Man: Look at you! Morpheus! The Master of the Dream Realm! One of the most powerful entities that is not a Pokemon! And here you are, nervous and downtrodden because you’ve resigned yourself to losing the things you hold most dear. Well, you might not realize it yet, but TBM just did you a huge favor, and he thinks you should thank him for it.

Morpheus: A Favor??

Tromboner Man: Did TBM stutter?

Morpheus: How could what you just did possibly be construed as a fav- … Wait a minute.

Tromboner Man: That’s right.

Morpheus: Oh, my… You’re right, Teebs. You…

Tromboner Man: …Reminded Morpheus just who the hell he is.

Morpheus: I am Morpheus. I am the Master of the Dream Realm. I am the LPW World Heavyweight Champion.

Tromboner Man: And TBM thinks you’re pretty swell, too, Morph.

Morpheus: Teebs, I am truly sorry I lashed out at you. You are absolutely right. I was wallowing in self-pity, and in the process let it get the best of me. The exact same things I was decrying in you, I fell victim to myself. You’ve helped me see the error of my ways, Teebs. I appreciate that more than you know. Can you forgive me?

Tromboner Man: TBM wishes he could quit you.

Morpheus walks over and embraces TBM in a very manly hug. TBM looks worried for a moment, but then realizes that the embrace is not meant as a homoerotic overture, so he returns the hug. After a few seconds, both men realize that if the hug goes on much longer, they might become infected with gay, so they release the embrace and take a couple of steps back from one another.

Morpheus: Thank you again, Teebs. I promise you, one way or another, I will see you at Altered Reality 6.

Tromboner Man: Oh, TBM thinks you’ll be seeing him before then.

Morpheus: How’s that?

Tromboner Man: TBM will be your Second in the DeathCube Match at Ragnarok.

Morpheus: Oh, well, I-

Tromboner Man: That wasn’t a request. That was a statement. TBM and Morpheus made a pact, and TBM is going to make BLEEP sure that he keeps up his end of the deal.

Morpheus: What I was going to say, Teebs, is that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tromboner Man: Good answer.

Morpheus: Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have a promo to cut.

Tromboner Man: Oh, right. TBM will be over here with the nameless, faceless cameraman who probably isn’t on any of the LPW roster’s Christmas or Kwanzaa lists. TBM wonders if that makes him sad.

Cameraman: Actually, now-

Tromboner Man: But not enough to actually care.

Cameraman: Fair enough.

Tromboner Man walks off camera to stand next to its operator, while Morpheus heads back over to the window. He looks out once more as he begins to speak.

Morpheus: The DeathCube. Six men will enter, and one will leave as the World Heavyweight Champion. That man will go on to represent Insanity and face the International Heavyweight Champion from Pyromania in the Martinez Cup Match at Altered Reality Six. That match is about pride. It is about honor. It is about history.

But for me, it is about so much more.

All of the other men in the DeathCube Match want to win for the honor and for the glory. They want to take my Title so they can go on and etch their names in the history books. They have purely selfish motives.

That will be their downfall.

There is so much more at stake for me. If cYnical wins the International Heavyweight Championship-

Tromboner Man pipes in from off-camera.

Tromboner Man: But he won’t.

Morpheus turns back to face the camera.

Morpheus: I know, but if he does.

Tromboner Man: But he won’t.

Morpheus: Ok, but let’s just play a game where we pretend that he does for just a moment, even though he really won’t. Is that cool?

Tromboner Man: TBM is having a mental battle between his love of games and actual reality. Hmmmm… Ok, games win! Carry on!

Morpheus: Thanks. If cYnical wins-

Tromboner Man: But he won’t.

Morpheus: Alright, alright. He won’t. Which means that the scenario where he goes to Altered Reality 6 to face me, and all of our history finally boils to a head and is laid to rest once and for all when I beat him for the fifth time won’t ever come to pass.

Tromboner Man: Thank goodness! Nobody wants to see that!

Morpheus: Which leaves the other scenario. If Tromboner Man retains the IHC-

Tromboner Man: He will.

Morpheus: -then I go on to have the biggest match of all time against one of the true greats in LPW History.

Tromboner Man: You really think TBM is one of the greats in LPW history?

Morpheus: Of course I do.

Tromboner Man: Oh, man. TBM thinks you’re pretty great, too, Morph.

Morpheus: Thanks, Teebs. Now, can I finish?

Tromboner Man: Sure thing, buddy.

Morpheus: Thanks.

Now, let me put this into simple terms. All of the men that are involved in this match, I have great respect for. Whether or not I like them, whether or not we see eye to eye, they have proven themselves to be worthy competitors. However, more than just the World Heavyweight Championship is on the line in this match. The opportunity to compete for the Martinez Cup also hangs in the balance.

This time, it isn’t about just being worthy.

It’s about being the best.

Look back over the last Season of LPW. When you look at Pyromania, who has been the best on that Brand?

Tromboner Man: Ken Ryans?

Morpheus: That was a rhetorical question, but no, Teebs. Not Ken Ryans. The man that beat him for the International Heavyweight Championship.

Tromboner Man: Oh, right. That was… Hey! That was The Tromboner Man!

Morpheus: That’s right, Teebs. You. Far and away, it’s been you.

Tromboner Man: You’re making TBM blush.

Morpheus: Then I’ll digress.

Now, turn your attention back to Insanity. Over the last LPW Season, who has been the best on that Brand?

Big B. Brown?

Nigel Vanderbilt?

Krimson Mask?

Ultramarcus?

Azreal?

No. As much as it pains me to speak out against friends, it hasn’t been any of them. It’s been me.

Morpheus.

No one has had a stronger Season on Insanity than me. I have held the World Heavyweight Championship for the last 15 months, and I have kept it around my waist despite defending it a record number of times. I have taken on all comers, and left them all in my wake as I passed them by. And now, I face my biggest challenge yet, with five other men gunning for my title. Well, boys, you think you’re going to take what’s mine? I think I have something to say about that.

Bring it on.

Know this, gentlemen. You will be in for the fight of your lives.

Friend or foe, it will be no matter. Once we are locked inside the DeathCube, there can be only one result, and that is me walking out with my hand raised in victory. Then, the Best on Insanity will go on to face the Best on Pyromania. As it should be.

Tromboner Man: Damn straight.

Morpheus turns and takes the World Heavyweight Championship from the windowsill and drapes it over his shoulder, then turns back to the camera.

Morpheus: Big B. Brown. We’ve fought at each other’s side, and we’ve faced off against one another. I used to be a big fan of your show, but I have had to stop watching it recently. After a while, it just fades into white noise and starts sounding eerily reminiscent of Neil Diamond trying to eat a spoonful of Peanut Butter while having a stroke.

Still, entertainment preferences aside, you have proven yourself to be a worthy opponent, despite losing your head and firing the only person on your show who was bringing in any real ratings. But it takes more than just being worthy this time.

When you step inside the DeathCube, this encounter will end just like the other two times you have challenged me for my title:

With you on your back, and my hand raised high.

Krimson Mask. The Man. The Myth. The Legend. You and I have never crossed paths in an LPW ring before, and yet our names have been mentioned in the same sentence more times than I care to count. You are one of the most dominant forces ever to compete in LPW, and if it weren’t for your weakness for underage girls dressed as Fairy Tale characters, there might not have been a “one of” qualifier in that statement.

Regardless, you forged a trail of absolute destruction, and in the process set the record for the most World Heavyweight Championship defenses.

Then I broke it.

You have yourself admitted that we are fighting the same side of this war against the End, and yet your apparent dislike of The Awakened has led you to bring the fight to our doorstep. Your return has sparked quite the buzz, but I am afraid that, despite your aspirations of a second Title reign, I am going to have to play the role of Dream Killer this time. It will be our first meeting inside the DeathCube, Krimson Mask, and once it is all said and done, I promise you one thing.

You will see why Morpheus was the one who finally broke your record.

Azreal. You, out of all the people in this match are the one that I want to hit the least. Although, I am still sickened by the sight of you attempting to shove an entire cheeseburger through your dislocated jaw like a jungle snake.

Remind me never to dare you to do anything. Ever again.

Out of all the people I’ve come across in LPW, you’ve been the one most like family to me-

Voice: Like Family, you say?

The Shrouded Man Steps from the shadows and approaches Morpheus.

Morpheus: Not now, Brother. Please, not now.

Shrouded Man: Then when?

Morpheus: Soon. I promise.

Tromboner Man: Wait a minute! This is your brother, Morph?

Tromboner Man comes running in from off camera, hand extended in front of him.

Tromboner Man: Hi! I’m The Tromboner Man! Most of my friends call me TBM. You can call me Tromboner Man.

Morpheus: Ah, right. Teebs, this is my brother, Destiny.

Tromboner Man: Destiny! Hey, TBM thinks he met you before… Yes! He’s sure he has! The night he won the International Heavyweight Championship, people said Destiny was in TBM’s corner! It’s good to see you ag-

Destiny’s hood falls back as TBM approaches, and the torchlight illuminates his face. His long, black and gray hair falls down past his shoulders and his mouth is carved in a firm, humorless line, but his most striking feature is his eyes, which are sewn shut.

Tromboner Man: On second thought, TBM think he may not have met you after all. TBM is pretty sure he’d remember vomiting like he’s about to right now.

Morpheus: Guys, I really don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but I’m kind of busy here.

Tromboner Man: Promo, right. We’ll just go off over here. So, Destiny. How do you see if your eyes are sewn up tight like that guy in the Alice In Chains video? Which video was that again? TBM thinks it was Rooster, right? Or maybe Epic? Wait, that wasn’t Alice In Chains…

Tromboner Man and Destiny walk off camera toward the dais as Morpheus shakes his head, then looks back to the camera to continue.

Morpheus: Where was I? Ah, yes. Another close friend.

Ultramarcus. I haven’t had the heart to say some of these things to you, but I think it’s time that you face some facts. There is little doubting that you have been on a roll of late, what with your semi-hostile takeover of the City of Toronto, which is undoubtedly one of the crown jewels of Canadian cities. However, taking over the crown jewel of Canadian cities is like winning the Gold Medal in the Special Olympics. And do you know what’s better than winning the Gold Medal in the Special Olympics?

Not being retarded.

You’ve done some impressive things to make it here, Marcus. You’ve beaten Krimson Mask. You’ve liked to tout the fact that you are the only person to have ever held the United States and the Western State Heritage Titles. That is no doubt an amazing accomplishment, being the only man to hold both second-tier titles in LPW. Allow me to be the first to say…

Welcome to the First Tier.

You’ve stated repeatedly that you will be the next World Heavyweight Champion, and quite honestly, you might very well be right. But not on this night, Marcus. Not on this night. You’ve shown yourself to be one of the greatest competitors on Insanity, Marcus, and you will no doubt have your day, but this is not it.

When we step into the DeathCube, you will be reminded exactly why you are student and I am the Master.

Last, and almost certainly close to least, we have Nigel Vanderbilt. The man who takes the THE out of PSYCHOTHERAPIST. I have to grudgingly admit that I respect you for your ability, but that’s it. I do not respect you as a man, and I certainly don’t like you. You get on my nerves, and your mouth never stops running. You keep trying to up the ante with your antics, and I’m pretty sure the only option you have left is molesting and murdering a school bus full of retarded children after hopping them up on heroin.

Or wait, you’ve already done that one, haven’t you…

You have proven over the last year that you can be as ruthless as they come, and that you are capable of standing toe to toe with the best. Which is exactly what you will be doing when you enter the DeathCube. At the end of that match, you’re going to wish you were back in that dark room nailing kittens to the wall, because unlike them…

I fight back.

Morpheus takes the World Heavyweight Championship off of his shoulder and holds it out in front of him.

Morpheus: This is what it is all about. The World Heavyweight Championship and the chance to compete for the Martinez Cup at Altered Reality Six.

Everyone has Dreams. Desires and Aspirations to become something greater than they already are. Without these Dreams, we would never strive to reach new heights, and always stagnate and remain where we have always been.

It is these very Dreams that are on the line.

At Ragnarok, six men enter the DeathCube to vie for this World Title and that opportunity.

Wait… Let me rephrase that.

Five men enter the DeathCube to challenge ME for MY World Heavyweight Championship. And in case you’ve forgotten, let me remind you just who the Hell I am.

I am the Dream Master. The Prince of Stories. The Nightmare King. I know all of your innermost desires, and the Shadows that haunt your darkest Dreams.

I am Morpheus: Master of the Dream Realm and LPW World Heavyweight Champion.

You, gentlemen… You are transient. I am forever. I supersede the Supernatural, and come Ragnarok, you will all come to know why I have held this title for so long.

In the DeathCube, the Dream Master is going to make his own Dreams come true for once. And in so doing…[/i]

Morpheus drapes the Title back over his shoulder and stares intensely into the camera.

Morpheus: I will become your worst Nightmare.

Sweet Dreams, gentlemen, and enjoy them while they last, because at Ragnarok…

I’m taking them back.

Morpheus turns away from the camera and walks back over toward TBM and Destiny.

Tromboner Man: Man In The Box! That’s the one!

Morpheus: I’d hate to interrupt, fellas, but I’ve just about wrapped this one up. Teebs and I have some serious prep work to do for our upcoming matches. Des, if you’ll excuse us.

Destiny: Of course, Dream. I’ll be in touch.

Morpheus: I’m sure you will be.

Tromboner Man: It was nice to meet you, Mr. In The Box!

Destiny turns away from the two Champions and walks behind the dais, disappearing into the shadows. Morpheus turns to Tromboner Man and smiles.

Morpheus: Right, we've got some work to do. Shall we meet up outside?

Tromboner Man: You’re in for it now, Morph. TBM has just the thing…

Tromboner Man goes running out of the Audience Hall, as Morpheus smiles after him. Morpheus drapes the World Title over the back of one of the chairs and takes off his coat, removing Oneiro from its pocket, setting both on the table near the window.

Morpheus: Alright, now you be good, little fella. I’ll be back real soon, ok?

Morpheus walks over to the corner near the window and stares at a massive drapery hanging there.  After a moment, he steps forward and pulls it away, sending it tumbling to the floor. Behind it is a large, elegant portrait of a beautiful woman with pale skin, long black curls and violet eyes. Morpheus stares at the portrait in silence for a moment before finally reaching up, kissing his first two fingers on his left hand, and placing the kiss on the lips of the woman in the portrait.

Morpheus: Happy Birthday, Ariella. I miss you, my love...

Morpheus pulls his gaze away from the portrait and begins to exit the Hall. As he passes by the window, the ground shakes again, and a giant robot appears outside the window. Upon closer inspection, it appears that the robot is actually the original MegaZord from the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. The MegaZord turns to look into the window and waves at Morpheus, before gesturing for him to come outside.

Morpheus: This is gonna be a long night…

Morpheus smiles and walks out of the Audience Hall, muttering as he goes.

Morpheus: I’m going Voltron on your ass…

As Morpheus exits the Audience Hall, the MegaZord walks off, disappearing from view. After a moment of silence, a woman in a stunning white wedding dress with long black curls steps out from the shadows and watches as the door closes behind him. She sees the cat and picks it up, holding it tight to her chest. She starts to pet it as a single tear pours forth from each of her two perfect violet eyes...

We cut to a darkened room, where two figures stand with their back to the camera. The only light in the room comes from paused pictures of news reporters and other people on a large number of televisions of every size and shape. The light shows off the large spikes of hair on the head of the man of the left, while the only thing seen of the man on the right are the long, thin pieces of material that hang from the back of his head and down his shoulders. The man with the spiked hair turns to his counterpart. His counterpart nods as the man on left picks up a remote and presses a button, springing all the televisions to life.

Irish News Reporter: It was here, last night at eleven fifty PM in Temple Bar, that a vigilante saved a University Student’s life from a once convicted murderer, Pat Duffy, aged fifty ni-

Posh Northern English Reporter: North Yorkshire Police have confirmed that a young man was defended by mysterious masked man. We now go live to the victim-

Policeman: Metropolitan Police Service have confirmed that the individual that saved Mustafa El-Shawky from an attempted racial attack is unknown and at large-

Youtube Blogger: There has to be a link behind all these! These vigilante sightings have been reported for a year and a half in Britain! Something has to be up!

Youtube Blogger #2 These reports are a lie. It’s the British Government’s way of making us feel safe on the streets with police roaming about!

This video strikes a chord with the man on the right as he responds with a loud snarl.

Welsh Reporter: Yesterday, in Swansea’s notorious Wind Street, a masked man fought off a mugger who tried to rob Lola Stevens, aged twenty one-

Merseyside Reporter: Local police have announced that CCTV images of a mysterious, masked assailant have been released to the public.

This draws the response of the man on the left who although quietly, audibly says “sh*t”.

Generic News Reporter: Police have warned that the public should not enter areas with high crime rates in the aim of witnessing the so-called “21st-Century Urban Myth”.

Z-List Celebrity: We need everyone to help this guy out! Like, you know, he’s a hero because he’s saving people. Like, everyone should log onto my website and join our group and together we can, like, help this mystery dude. YAY!

Channel 4 Reporter: In other news, it has been reported that the vigilante phenomenon has lately been witnessed being stalked by a man in his mid-twenties. Just trying to help? Or incredibly stupid? Find out after the-

The last report causes the man on the right to nudge the man on the left.

City of London Police: We can confirm that the identity and background of the vigilante is unknown.

Suddenly, the pictures change to the word “unknown” across every screen with various voices joining in.


Finally, the screen cuts to some wrestling action.

[/B]“

The man on the left turns the televisions off and turns to his fellow man, all the while keeping their backs to the camera.

[/color]


Phoenix: It looks like the Insanity Roster is about to have a new addition, Rik!

Rik: Seriously, where do they find these people? Wait, on second thought… I don’t want to know.

Phoenix: Next up, we have quite the interesting matchup, folks.

Rik:  You can say that again.

Phoenix:  ...Next up, we have quite the interesting matchup, folks.

Rik:  Really?

Phoenix:  The Hardcore Championship  will be defended by newly crowned Champion, Cyborg Lincoln!

Rik:  'Ol Tin head has been pretty successful thus far in his career, but tonight, he faces dark forces he is sure to be unfamiliar with.  He must take on a creature of the night.


The rat-a-tat-tat of guitar and drums fill the arena as "Bat Country" by Avenged Sevenfold heralds the arrival of a bloodthirsty hardcore competitor.

Announcer:  The following match will be competed under Hardcore Rules, and will be for the LPW Hardcore Championship!  Making his way to the ring from Transylvania by way of Austin, Texas, he is DAMIEN BLAZE!!!

The crowd hums in anticipation of Damien's arrival... but he never appears on the ramp.

Phoenix:  Ok, now what is this all about?

Rik:  I really don't know what to think of this guy.  I mean, he thinks he's a vampire.  He says he likes to drink blood.  Now he's no-showing a title match?  What's this guy's deal?

The thumping techno beats of "Derezzed" by Daft Punk pick the crowd back up.

Announcer:  Erm... making his way to the ring... I think... is the LPW Hardcore Champion!  Cyborg Lincoln!

The crowd pops for the new Hardcore Champion, but once again, no one appears on the ramp.

Rik:  Seriously, people.  What in the blue hell is going on around here??

Phoenix:  Wait!  Wait!  I'm getting word that there is some sort of altercation taking place backstage!  We're sending a ref back there, now!

Rik:  Are you telling me the Hardcore Championship match is already underway?  And they don't even have a ref?

Phoenix:  Um... sort of.  Wait.  Now they're telling me... What?  You're kidding… Well, alright then. Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that we're receiving a live feed directly from the visual circuitry of Cyborg Lincoln!

Rik:  Oh, give me a friggin' break.

Phoenix:  But it's true!  We won't be able to call this match due to technical issues with this dated technology, but you will see the match in its entirety!

The Insanity feed flickers and scatters into snow before zig zagging and sliding across the screen like a scrambled porno, before righting itself.  Everything is covered with a green hue, and a heads up display covers the corners of the screen like a video game.

Lincoln is lumbering down a hallway, and into a large boiler room.  Once he enters, his red targeting system locks onto an object above his head.  He looks upward to see the fanged Damien Blaze perched atop a ledge.  The cyborg fires a small rocket, but Blaze lunges fangs-first toward the lone light hanging from the ceiling, knocking it out.  The screen immediately goes black, save for the HUD. 

Words flash across the center of the screen:

[/size]


The screen immediately turns to shades of black and red, like the screen of a Virtual Boy.  Shards of light bulb are still raining down from the ceiling.  Cyborg Lincoln's head swivels from side to side, searching for his target when a loud CLANG is heard behind him.  Slowly, and Terminator-like, the robotic monster turns 180 degrees, far too slow to catch his target.  More and more clangs are heard from all around him.  Sparks begin to fly from his metal appendages, as something (presumably Blaze) continues to rap him with a large metal object.  Unfortunately for the attacker, the rapping has caused minimal damage.  Mere scratches adorn Cyborg Lincoln's frame.

Suddenly, a loud CLANK is heard, followed by a painful scream.  Lincoln turns his head to see two scratch marks that resemble those of teeth on his shoulder area.

The sound of a frustrated, perhaps exhausted, sigh escapes the lungs of the invisible attacker as Cyborg Lincoln turns again, backing up to the wall to keep his enemy in front.

A small hint of color appears in the back of the room.  Due to a horrid miscalculation involving the cold nature of a vampire and terribly outdated infrared technology, Cyborg Lincoln comes to the startling conclusion that he cannot use this technique to identify the location of his pesky foe.

Realizing his folly, another phrase blinks across the center of the screen.

[/color][/b][/size]

The screen returns to a green hue, but far more bright than before.  Within seconds, the cyborg locks onto his target.  Just as he initiates his rocket launcher, he notices a demonic grin torn across the face of the vampire.  A moment's pause is all it takes for the undead warrior to gain the high ground, as his newly acquired electromagnet violently pulls Cyborg Lincoln toward it, smashing him into the concrete wall at the back of the room.

Blaze continues to swing the massive magnet from side to side, crashing the Hardcore Champion into wall after wall, sending concrete debris into the air.  Once again, a message flashes across the center of the screen.

[/color][/size]

Damien Blaze is reveling in the massive amounts of damage he's causing his opponent.  Cyborg Lincoln has experienced catastrophic injury during this exchange.  One arm is missing.  His visor is cracked.  He is leaking hydraulic fluid everywhere.

The confident Blaze begins to taunt his foe, but is unfortunately tripped up by the slippery fluid.  Within an instant, he finds himself falling and panics.  Instinctively, he reaches for the magnet, but accidentally finds himself inside the curve of the massive object.

The look of terror is evident on the vampire's face as the magnet, carrying him, flies across the room, crashing Cyborg Lincoln into the wall HARD.  Lincoln's frame ricochets off the wall and falls forward, landing on top of the magnet, and sandwiching Blaze in between them and knocking him unconscious.  The robot lays immobile atop the unconscious vampire for a moment as a referee finally makes it into the dark room. He turns on a flashlight and sees the pinning combination on the floor. He springs into action, totally doing his job, and counts to three.

The screen flickers before returning to the arena.

Cyborg Lincoln (4.16 APS + 1.6 V = 5.76 Total)
Damien Blaze (4.06 APS + 0.8 V = 4.86 Total

Announcer: The winner of the match and STIIIIIILLLLL LPW Hardcore Champion.... CYBOOOOOOOORG LINCOOOOOOOOOLN!!!

Rik:  What.  In the hell.  Was that?

Phoenix:  That, my friend, was a successful title defense by our Hardcore Champion!

Rik:  I've officially seen everything.

Phoenix:  Trainers and apparently mechanics are rushing to the back to separate those two, but what a match!!

Rik:  That was a match?

"Derezzed" by Daft Punk hits the P.A. system as a damaged and leaking Cyborg Lincoln makes his way out to the ring. He climbs into the ring as the crowd cheers him on, rolling armless under the bottom rope and standing up in a pool of hydraulic fluid.

Rik: I am not paid enough for my services…

Cyborg Lincoln stomps around the ring allowing the audience to roar in approval for his retention of the Hardcore title.  As he climbs the far turnbuckle the light drops and the arena is flooded with a layer of smoke and the audience is washed in pink lights.  “Super Duper Man” by Toy Box hits the stereo and Pope Fred rumbles down the ramp toward the ring followed by Roseanne, Tara Reid, Neil Patrick Harris and Nick Minaj.  They gather in the ring.  Cyborg Lincoln steps down toward the center of the ring and is quickly surrounded by the celebrities.  Roseanne then perches herself in a sultry way where Cyborg Lincoln just retreated from.

Pope Fred: Well Mr. Cyborg Lincoln, you have found yourself in the unfortunate position of holding my title.  Now most people in your position might say – ‘Well at least I’m the champion now’ – that’s pretty cool – but really… really now, will you even remember yesterday if you’re really a robot?  See my problem with you is that I believe that robosexual behavior, like those required for your procreation or habitual recreation, is just unnatural and disgustingly fowl like a chicken.  Far be it from me as a gay man to deny you the right to marry another person – however you break that rule by being a robot, something that is clearly more akin to a dog or dolphin.

Roseanne: Can you get to the point of why we are here?

Pope Fred: Well – I made it clear that I don’t need to touch you.  In fact, that said I’m not allowed to touch you.  Seems like that would be a violation of my contract!  That’s right… see this here – it’s my contract to return to action here in the LPW and my first match is against you… FOR MY TITLE… THE LPW HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP!!!

As the crowd goes nuts over the excitement of the match that was just announced, Pope Fred and Roseanne quickly prep the three celebrities they brought with them.  Nicki Minaj being fitted with a megaphone, Tara Reid with mirrors, and Neil Patrick Harris with some type of ass-contraption.

Pope Fred: See Cyborg Lincoln I don’t need to touch you to hurt you.  I have Tara Reid’s Botched Boob Job… Nicki Minaj’s Annoying screech rap music, and hey, Neil Patrick Harris, what did you just eat?

Neil Patrick Harris:  I went to White Castle and have terrible gas!!!

The three celebrities torture Cyborg Lincoln only long enough to distract him while Roseanne climbed the turnbuckle behind his back and blasts Cyborg Lincoln with a Missile Drop Kick from the top turnbuckle.  Pope lifts Roseanne and they walk off as the three celebrities continue to screech, fart, and jiggle at the desperate champion Cyborg Lincoln.

Rik: Well, wasn’t that entertaining. I’m sorry, wait. I said that wrong. Allow me to correct myself. Ahem… Well, that wasn’t entertaining.

Phoenix: That’s huge news, though, Rik! Cyborg Lincoln will be defending his title against Pope Fred at the next Insanity!

Rik: I can wait.

Phoenix: You mean you can hardly wait, don’t you?

Rik: No, I said it right the first time. I can wait.

[INDENT][/INDENT]

The pyro goes off inside the arena as "Death Valley Superstars" by the Murderdolls fills the stadium with bright lights and acrid smoke. The cheers of the Welsh crowd overpowers the explosions as the show opens. The camera pans around the arena, showing a packed house on their feet for the LPW Insanity brand. The camera then cuts to the commentary booth at ringside where Blazing Phoenix is seated next to The Rik.

Phoenix: Welcome, everyone, to LPW Insanity, coming to you LIVE from Cardiff, Wales!

Rik: So close to home, and yet so unmercifully far.

Phoenix: We are here in the United Kingdom to bring you a very special night of professional wrestling action.

Rik: Yes. Special. That’s an excellent way to put it.

Phoenix: Tonight isn’t just any ordinary Insanity show, Ladies and Gentlemen. Tonight, by the decree of the Master Chief himself, every single championship on the Insanity brand will be put up for grabs at the second ever incarnation of Insanity GOLD!

Rik: Unfortunately, that means that my beloved Pyromania brand will not be represented here tonight, which of course also means that the match quality will be unbearably low.

Phoenix: It’s time you got used to your new environs, Rik. Insanity is your home now!

Rik: There’s a difference between “home” and “prison,” Pheonix. Well, maybe not where you’re from.

Phoenix: Despite what my partner is implying-

Rik: I prefer colleague, Phoenix. Partner means something completely different now than it did when you were my age.

Phoenix: Fair enough. We have a great line-up for you tonight, folks. First up, we have a World Television Championship Match that will see Steve Storme defend his title against a challenger who earned their spot in this match at the last Insanity show, The Baroness!

Rik: When will women learn that they have n place inside a wrestling ring? Particularly against a man? Probably never, due to their inferior intellects. Speaking of inferior things, Cyborg Lincoln will take on Damien Blaze in defense of his not-quite-shiny-but-nonetheless-new Hardcore Championship. That’s right. A Vampire vs. a Robot.

Phoenix: Indeed it is, and that should be quite the interesting match. We’re also looking forward to a United States Championship Match between the reigning Utramarcus and his opponent, a newly focused Ozzy Crerar. We will also see The Awakened in the form of Steve Storme and Azreal defend their Undisputed World Tag Team Championships against Blackwell and Bobino!

Rik: Steve Storme pulling double duty? Well, perhaps this show won’t be a complete wash then. Although, perhaps I spoke too soon, because in our Mediocre Event of the evening, which will see Big. B. Brown challenge Morpheus for the LPW World Heavyweight Championship. I believe that we may just have found the cure for nacolepsy.

Phoenix: I don’t know what you’re on about, Rik. That’s a great Main Event! Also, in addition to all this great action, we also had a hell of a show earlier tonight on Vertigo where Trey Spruance defeated the debuting Mike The Yank.

Rik: Don’t remind me…

Phoenix: Not only that, but we also had a Number One Contender’s Match for the Television Title between Paul Brooks, and LPW Hall-Of-Famer, Phantom Lord! Both of these men were looking to finally end their respective losing streaks, but only one hand was raised in victory. Let’s take a look at what happened in that match in our Vertigo ReView, brought to you by Doctor Who: Series Six – now available on DVD and Blu-Ray! 


The video package shows quick clips of Paul Brooks and Phantom Lord coming down to the ring to their respective entrance themes, then cuts to a shot of the two men staring each other down in the ring.


Phoenix: There’s more than just a shot at the TV title on the line here, Rik. Both of these men are looking to put an end to the losing streaks they’ve been on of late.
 
Rik: And yet, no matter who wins, we all lose.

Phoenix: If he can stay on top of Phantom Lord, Brooks may just pull off his first ever singles victory here in LPW!

Rik: Seriously? The first?

Phoenix: Yes, so far his only victory has been in a tag team match.

Rik: Well, that just reinforces that theory.

Phoenix: Which theory is that?

Rik: That Paul Brooks challenging for the Television Title is one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse. Not the defunct stable, but the actual end of all things.

The video package cuts quickly between shots showing each man hitting some big time offense on the other. After a few moments, the video cuts to show the end of the match.


Phoenix: Brooks is in a bad way here. Phantom Lord is on fire, and he is just taking it to the young rookie with leg drop after leg drop.

Rik: I don’t think I’ve seen Phantom Lord with this much intensity in the entire time I’ve known him. Which is quite a long while.

Phoenix: Brooks is completely non-responsive as Phantom locks in a triangle choke. The referee is checking on Brooks and… Yes! This one is over!

Rik: Perhaps there IS a God after all…

Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner, and NEW Number One Contender to the LPW World Television Championship… PHAAAAAAAAAAANNNTOOOOOOOMMMMMM LLLLLOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRD!!!!

Phoenix: Phantom has finally snapped the losing streak he has been on, and with authority! He has earned the right to challenge for the title he created so many years ago.

Rik: The real winner here tonight, though, is Steve Storme.

Phoenix: How do you figure?

Rik: Well, after pulling double duty later tonight, he could use a nice easy challenge for his title next week.

Phoenix: I think it’s a mistake to overlook Phantom Lord here, Rik.

Rik: Well, that would be your first mistake.

Phoenix: What would?

Rik: Thinking.

Phantom Lord looks down at Brooks as he lay unconscious in the ring, then climbs to the second turnbuckle and celebrates his victory. The crowd gets behind the Hall of Famer as his elation at winning the match is written clearly across his face. He gestures around his waist, and then raises his right hand in the air as the image cuts back to the Vertigo logo.


Rik: Whoever had the idea of showing those recaps should be drawn and quartered.

Phoenix: We’ve got a great show lined up for the rest of the night, so let’s get this party started, shall we?

An image of an American Flag waving in the breeze appears on the InsaniTron and the live crowd begins to boo loudly.

Rik: Ahh… It’s times like these that I miss home.

”God Bless The U.S.A.” by Lee Greenwood starts playing over the P.A. as Master Chief Phillips makes his way out onto the stage to a mixed reaction from the crowd.

Phoenix: It would appear that our brand’s General Manager has an announcement to make.

Rik: This should be interesting. Unfortunately, I doubt it will be.

The music fades out as Master Chief stands at attention, surveying the crowd, who slowly begin to quiet down. He raises a microphone to his lips and begins to speak.

Chief: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Insanity GOLD, LIVE from CARDIFF!

The crowd pops huge at the mention of their hometown, and a small Sheepster chant breaks out.

Chief: Now, I promise to try not to take up too much of your time here tonight, but there is an announcement that I have to make.

The crowd once again slowly returns to silence as the Chief looks on with a blank expression.

Chief: I was brought on in the role of General Manager of the Insanity Brand of LPW to restore order to a faltering brand. To right the sinking ship, as it were. Under the regime of one Eric Scorpio, things here had begun to deteriorate rapidly, and things were falling into chaos. When Mr. Kross hired me, he did so because he knew that I had what it takes to turn things around and bring things back under control. It’s not easy for me to say this, but…

Master Chief looks down at the ground at his feet.

Chief: I have failed.

A murmur passes through the live crowd as Chief remains silent for a moment.

Chief: Despite my efforts, it seems Insanity is no less chaotic than it was the day I assumed this role. There is no better evidence of this than last Insanity. A federal agent was viciously assaulted during an investigation, a contracted talent was thrown from the top of the InsaniTron through the stage and has yet to regain consciousness, my daughter…

The crowd lets out a collective “ooooooh” as Chief’s fist clenches and his face turns red.

Chief: To top it all off, I wasn’t even able to protect my own daughter. If there is any bigger indicator of my own failings as a leader, then I can’t imagine what it could be. This brand, even with me at the helm, has truly lived up to its name: Insanity. It seems the inmates are truly running the asylum.

There’s a small pop from the crowd which is swiftly stifled as the crowd realizes the seriousness of what is being said.

Chief: Until tonight.

Master Chief looks back up at the crowd once more, who are silent as he continues.

Chief: The members of the Insanity roster have pushed… And pushed… And pushed… And now, a line has been crossed. A line that cannot ever be uncrossed. For too long now, people have been running amok, doing whatever they please with next to no consequences. For too long now, people have thrown the rules and tenets of basic morality out the window and acted without concern for anyone but themselves. For too long now, people have not been held accountable for their actions. People like… The Awakened…

A mixed reaction erupts from the crowd.

Chief: … Among many… Many others. Starting tonight, those accounts are being audited, and people will answer for their actions. There will be no more blind eyes turned, and no more transgressions overlooked. Tonight, I am declaring Martial Law over the Insanity Brand, and anyone who breaks that law will be held accountable. Eye… For an Eye.

The crowd pops for the Chief’s announcement, though it is clear from the looks on the majority of their faces that they are not yet sure what this means.

Chief: There’s an old saying… “Demons Run when a good man goes to war.” Congratulations, Insanity. You’ve pushed this good man too far. Now, you will reap what you’ve sown. This war has just begun… And it’s one I do NOT intend to lose.

”God Bless The U.S.A.” by Lee Greenwood starts playing over the P.A. once more as Master Chief Phillips salutes the camera and the crowd pops. He turns on his heel and heads to the back as his music continues to play.

Phoenix: Martial Law? That can’t be good news for the Insanity Roster, Rik.

Rik: Can he even do that?

Phoenix: He’s the General Manager. I think he can do what he wants.

Rik: What did I just tell you about thinking?

Phoenix: One thing is for sure, though. This definitely means rough waters ahead for The Awakened.

Rik: Well, Morpheus should have kept a tighter rein on his toadies. They were the primary ones making all the waves that threaten to capsize them now, so they have no one but themselves to blame.

Phoenix: Hey, you actually ran with my metaphor. That might be a first.

Rik: And now, a last.

Master Chief Phillips is seen marching promptly down the halls of the backstage area when one of his production assistants whispers something into his ear, showing a perceivable degree of concern in his body language. Phillips scowls and continues to hike towards his office where not too long, a slaughtered lamb is being tended to by EMTs.

Master Chief: What the hell is going on right now?

Assistant: Sir, we need to remove you from the premises. Your office is considered a hot zone for paranormal activity.

Master Chief: Are you kidd….what’s going on in there?

As Master Chief Phillips approaches his GM suite and before he can barge in, he halts at the door which is marked by a huge gash of lamb’s blood covering the exterior. Several LPW officials stand nearby, their forearms covering their noses from the stench aroma of dead animal insides.

Assistant: We believe someone…or something…. who did this is inside your workplace. Now we know all your information is inside, but we have relocated your office to…

Master Chief: It’s him.

Assistant: Excuse me?

Master Chief: Did anyone take a look at who’s inside?

Assistant: Someone went in to look, but he never came out. Now if you will…

Master Chief: I didn’t get where I’m at by being a coward. I’m going in.

Assistant: I would highly advise you to not…

Before the assistant can finish his warning, Master Chief Phillips opens the door and steps inside a room which has been converted into an office, dark and foreboding, with a large desk sitting in the far end dimly lit by a single desk lamp with a wicker basket nestled right beside it.

Master Chief: You certainly know how to make your presence known around here. Lamb’s blood… I like the Passover touch…

The Insanity GM closes in towards the lit desk, but the cameraman stays in the hallway and out of the room to avoid what could be inside. Phillips tips in closer, ever so lightly to avoid any sudden movements that could cause commotion.

Master Chief: You’re amongst friends here. This is your home and you’re welcome here. Both of you…

As Master Chief is within five feet of the desk, a subtle movement is heard from behind the desk. The dim light only shows the back of the dark mahogany GM’s chair, which slowly begins to move, shadowing who could be sitting there.

Master Chief: Don’t be alarmed. I have a proposal that I’d like to share… with both of you…

Five giggles ricochet throughout the blackened room as Phillips turns back towards the open doorway in fear of something he hadn’t sensed when he had first walked in. The entity behind the chair begins to turn towards the lamp, but before the scene can reveal who’s behind the desk, the bloodied door suddenly shuts in front of the camera, leaving LPW personnel scrambling as to what to do now.

[INDENT][/INDENT]

On the screen we see the match card; showing Styxx and Mr. Golden

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Next up we have another great match. Of any of the men in this tournament, I wouldn't want to be in Mr. Goldens shoes the most.  Styxx is an animal, a beast, and he's squaring off against Mr. Golden, next. 


[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The Following match is scheduled for one-fall, with the winner advancing to the next round of the Owners Cup.  First, from Galway, Ireland, Mister…Golden!

"That Golden Rule" by Biffy Clyro starts to play across the speakers as the Irish superstar, Mr. Golden makes his way down the ramp.  He doesn't look frightened as he saunters into the ring, and prepares for his match. 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] Next up, from Wodonga, Australia, here is Styxx!

"Turns to Ashes" by 36 Crazyfists blares across the speakers, as Styxx makes his way down to the ring.  Styxx moves quickly, not paying attention to the crowd, as he focuses only on Mr. Golden.  Styxx climbs into the ring, walks right over to Mr. Golden, and throws a haymaker connecting right to his opponents jaw.  The ref rings the bell, and this one is underway.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Styxx sure isn't wastin any time!  He charges right after Mr. Golden, but Golden is putting up a fight too, firing back with a shot to the forehead.  Golden fires another shot.  And another.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]But Styxx comes back hard with a knee, and Golden is sent reeling back to the ropes.  Styxx comes after him with another punch to the back of the neck, as Golden is down on one knee, reaching for the ropes. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Styxx pulls the top of Goldens head, and brings him close for another punch, sending him down again.  Styxx plus Golden up to his feet, but draws him into the corner, launching another fist, sending Golden down, against the turnbuckle.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Styxx grabs the ropes, and starts stomping away, and very quickly Styxx has become the driving force in this match. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR] Styxx keeps on him, stomping away.  The ref tells him to back away, but Styxx picks Golden up again, launching him into the ropes.  Styxx chases after him, and knocks him down with a high knee to the face.  Golden goes down again, but Styxx picks him right back up, launching him once again into the ropes

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]This time though, Styxx is countered!  Golden reverses the Irish whip, and connects to the jaw of Styxx with a forearm smash.  Styxx stumbles for balance, and ends up in the same ring corner that  he just had Golden.  Golden connects with a punch of his own, before launching Styxx into the opposite corner!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Styxx comes back with momentum, but Golden catches him with a back body drop!  And Styxx goes down hard!  With Styxx down, Golden comes on over, and wraps his leg around his opponents heels.  He pulls back on the arms, for the surfboard stretch!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]And Styxx is in noticeable pain!  The ref comes to see him, but Styxx refuses to quit.  Styxx won't give in, and eventually Golden breaks the hold. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Golden follows up with a kick to the kidney area, but Styxx is soon on his feet, and delivers a strong kick to the gut of Mr. Golden.  Golden goes down, and it's the perfect opportunity for Styxx to hit a power bomb! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]The ring is shaking after that one.  Styxx covers!

1

2

NO!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Styxx is shocked!  He rolls out of the ring, as Golden is still struggling to get to his feet.

Styxx walks over to the announcers table, and starts to strip it down.  Styxx rolls back into the ring, and pulls Golden over to the announcer table side of the ring. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]What is Styxx planning on doing?  Styxx props Golden up against the ropes, but rolls out of the ring, and gets back onto the apron. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]He's going to drop Styxx through the table from the apron! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]And he's got him up…but Golden manages to drop down behind Styxx on the floor, he lands quickly, and puts Styxx up in an Electric Chair! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]This is looking bad for Styxx!  From the Electric Chair, Golden Drops Styxx, right through the table!  Golden gets to his feet, and rolls into the ring!  Styxx is still in the pile of splintered wood! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Golden realizes that he's not going to win from in the ring, he rolls out and pulls Styxx up to his feet, and moves Styxx into the ring. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Golden now, back in the ring, ready and waiting for Styxx to rise.  Slowly, using the ropes to pull himself up, Styxx gets to his feet.  He turns around, and Mr Golden Connects with the Gold Rush! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Don't just stand there, pin him boy!

1


2



3!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Mr. Golden has done it, he's beaten Styxx!  Mr. Golden is advancing to the next round! 

Mr. Golden looks ecstatic as the ref raises his hand. 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The winner, and moving on to the next round of the Owners Cup, Mister…Golden! 


The camera pans over to the announce table, or what's left of it, as we focus on Dusty and Tony.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Well the night is almost over, so far we know that Mr. Golden, James McDaygo, The Peeps Champ, Cyborg Lincoln, Paul Brooks, Ultramarcus, Azreal, Eddie B, Big B. Brown, and Xander Kross will all move on to the next round.  Only two more spots are open but there are four men who want them.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Next up, Jeff Whitt takes on Nigel Vanderbilt, followed by our main event for the evening, Ken Ryans vs LPW Hall of Famer Solomon Idol.



[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The following match is scheduled for one fall, with the winner advancing to the next round of the Owners Cup.  Introducing first, from Miami Florida, The Son of Shockey, Jeff Whitt!

"What people are made of" by Modest Mouse starts to blare across the speakers, as Jeff Whitt makes his way down the ramp, and into the ring.  Jeff slaps hands with the fans as he goes.  He climbs into the ring, and poses for the fans as he prepares for his match. 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] and his opponent, from Boston, Massachusetts, Nigel Vanderbilt.

"Dawn of Battle" by Manowar starts to play across the speakers as Nigel Vanderbilt starts to walk down the ring, complete with an eyepatch after having lost his eye.  Vanderbilt points to Whitt, insulting him as he enters the ring.  Whitt moves over close to Vanderbilt, and Vanderbilt advances to meet him.  the ref rings the bell, and this one is on!

As soon as the bell rings, Whitt takes Vanderbilt and shoves him to the ground.  Vanderbilt struggles to get to his feet, but Whitt continues his attack with kick after kick.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]This one might be over before it even begins. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Jeff Whitt, the Son of Shockey is on the assault.  Whitt backs off, and raises his hands.  Slowly, Vanderbilt gets to his feet, but Whitt is right behind him, and tries to catch him in a full nelson.  Vanderbilt slides out though, bringing both his hands up and dropping his body to the floor. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Vanderbilt kicks up, and topples Whitt.  and now it looks like Nigel is on the assault.  He comes after Whitt who is back on his feet, but Whitt catches him with a knee to the gut.  Vanderbilts weight goes dead, and Whitt tosses him into the corner. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Vanderbilt rebounds off the turnbuckle with a right hand across the face.  Whitt backs off, but Vanderbilt comes after him with another right.  Vanderbilt meets him again with a chop to the chest, but Whitt comes down on him with a kick to the gut.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]and now Whitt grabs Vanderbilt by the hair, and launches him into the turnbuckle yet again.  Vanderbilt rebounds, but Whitt catches him and connects with a pump handle backbreaker. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Thats right, and he follows it up with a pump handle suplex.  He calls that one Education!  With Vanderbilt down, Whitt goes to the top rope.  He launches himself for a diving head but!  Personal foul! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]It looks like Whitt is ready to put this one away already.  Whitt picks Vanderbilt up, and puts him over his shoulders, he might be going for the novacain strain! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]No wait, Vanderbilt slithers out!  He comes down behind Whitt, and connects with an Olympic Slam!  Whitt is down on the ground, he's out cold!  Vanderbilt comes in from behind and locks in the Ankle Lock!  Whitt writhes in pain as he desperately tries to escape!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]He should'a seen it com in'.  Vanderbilt grapevines the hold, and it looks like theres no wha to run for Jeff Whitt.  He crawls, and he drags Vanderbilt along for the ride.  Finally Whitt reaches the ropes!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]And the ref forces Vanderbilt to break the hold.    Whitt gets to his feet, struggling, but as Vandebilt comes to his feet, he clubs him right across the back, and Venderbilt goes down hard.  Whitt drops an elbow on top of Vanderbilts back for good measure.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Whitt grabs a handful of hair, and starts to bring Vanderbilt up to a seated position, before bringing his knee down into the back.  It looks like Whitt is working the back of Vanderbilt, attacking it time after time. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Vanderbilt is rolling in pain!  Whitt drops a leg on top of the throat of his opponent.  Whitt goes for the pin!

1


2


No!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Vanderbilt still has his wits about him enough to kick out.  Whit picks up the crumpled up body of Nigel Vanderbilt and puts his arm across his neck.  Whitt lifts him up for a vertical Suplex, and drops him back first into the canvas!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Whitt back on his feet, comes over and reaches for Vanderbilts legs, but Vanderbilt kicks him right in the chest.  Vanderbilt gets to his knees, and delivers a right hand, right to the chest of Whitt!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]It looks like Vanderbilt is making a comeback!  Whitt goes reeling, but comes back to grab at the hair of the former pretty boy! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]But again Vanderbilt connects with a strong right hand!  Vanderbilt rises to his feet, and without warning strikes down hard with a chop to the chest.  of his opponent.  Whitt backs off and spreads himself against the ropes, but Vanderbilt grabs his arms and launches him into the ropes! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]This could be it, Vanderbilt charges him and connects!  Foreclosure of a Dream!  Jeff Whitt is down! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Vanderbilt makes the pin!

1


2


3!

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The winner of this match, and the next man to advance in the Owners Cup, Nigel Vanderbilt!

Vanderbilt stands in awe raising his own hand.  The ref comes over to raise his hand up, but he refuses to be touched, raising his hand himself.  Vanderbilt celebrates in the ring as we turn our attention back to the broadcasters. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Well folks, thirty two men entered this tournament, but only twelve will go on.  We find out who the next and final man will be in just moments. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]The Soldier Ken Ryans squares off against the most decorated superstar in LPW History, Solomon Idol. 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The following match is the main event of the evening, and is scheduled for one-fall.  The winner will advance to the next round of the Owners Cup Tournament!  Introducing first, from Green Bay, Wisconsin.  Weighing in at 235 pounds, he is Ken Ryans!

"The One" by Rob Zombie starts to hit as Ken Ryans makes his way down the ring.  The crowd erupts as one of LPW's most celebrated stars makes his way down the ramp.  He stays focused, showing no signs of emotion, as he enters the ring.  Ryans sets himself up in one of the corners before the start of the match. 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] And his opponent, from Hollywood, California, weighing in at 245 pounds, this is SoL!!!

"Rock Star" by N*E*R*D starts to blare across the speakers, as SoL makes his way out from the curtain, to a frenzied response from the crowd.  Sol pushes past the fans to get to the ring, where Ken Ryans is eagerly awaiting him in this, the main event. 

Ryans is in one corner, Solomon Idol in the other.  The ref raises his hands and the two meet in the middle

Ryans stands up, ready to brawl, his hands by his side, ready for action.  Solomon Idol is crouched low, ready to strike at a moments notice. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]These two are like lions on the prowl. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]The two meet in the middle, but SoL catches Ryans with a side headlock takedown, and turns it into a front face lock.  Ryans is on his stomach, but slowly rising to his knees, and then to his feet.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]The resolve of this man.  Ryans shoves SoL to the ropes, he breaks the hold, and hits the ropes, pickin up speed like an outta control tractor!  He slams into Ryans with a shoulder block, and Ryans is down yet again.  SoL hits the ropes, and Ryans gets to his feet, and takes down his opponent with a bulldog!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Ryans now stands overtop of Solomon Idol, he grabs a hold of one of the big legs of the LPW Legend, and locks in an STF. Solomon cries out in pain, as he reaches for the ropes.  Idol reaches and stretches…and grabs a hold of the bottom rope! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Now it's Idol on his feet, Idol locks in a headlock, and brings Ryans down to the ground.  Ryans once again gets up to his knees, and then finally to his feet!  Ryans hits the ropes, and SoL comes with'im.  Ryans shoves SoL and he goes flying.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Sol hits the ropes, but Ryans comes after him with a shoulder block.  SoL is back on his feet, quickly, and Ryans hits the ropes again, connecting with a shoulder block.  SoL once again on his feet, but this time, Ryans comes after him, and SoL catches him in a belly to belly suplex!  SoL launches Ryans into the air. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]SoL backs up, ready for his next move, as Ryans struggles to get to his feet.  Ryans climbs to his feet, using the ropes to pull himself up.  As Ryans turns around, Solomon Idol charges him with a Spinebuster, levelling him again.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]SoL goes for a pin

1


2


No!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Not this time!  SoL picks Ryans back up, and brings him in close.  He twists his body around and brings him crashing to the ground with a neck breaker.  Ryans is down, and it doesn't look like he's moving.
[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]SoL gets to his feet and starts stomping down onto Ryans as hard as he can.

SoL takes this opportunity to pose to the crowd.  He picks Ryans back up, and delivers a solid shot right to the face.  Ryans catches himself and keeps himself up using the ropes as he grabs at his face. 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]SoL is bringing it to Ryans hard here, it's no wonder he's one of LPW's most decorated superstars.  SoL comes in again with an uppercut, and Ryans finds balance in the corner.  Another uppercut, and Ryans is barely keeping himself up!

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Now SoL launches Ryans over to the other corner!  SoL isn't far behind either, but Ryans puts out his knee!  SoL goes down with a foot to the temple! 

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]And Solomon Idol is down on his knees!  He picks himself back up, but here comes Ryans!

Ken Ryans lays into SoL with a hard right hand, as the crowd goes wild.  Idol backs up, but Ryans picks him up and slams him to the mat with a body press.

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Don't count Ken Ryans out jus yet!  Ryans drops one elbow, and another, and another.  Ryans goes for the pin!

1


2


No!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Ryans is frustrated, but he needs to push past it, and stay focused if he wants to win.  He picks Idol up by the hair, and shoves his head into the turnbuckle.  not letting up for even a second, Ryans takes SoL's head and smashes it into the opposite turnbuckle. 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Ryans goes to get Idol again, but this time SoL sticks his thumbs right in the eyes of The Soldier.  Ryans backs away, but Idol catches up to him and delivers a devastating German suplex!

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Idol looks like he's back in control.  With his opponent down, SoL goes to the middle rope, it's not often we see him do this! 

[COLOR="#ADD8E6"]Dusty: [/COLOR]Idol comes down hard on Ryans with a leg drop from the second rope!  Ryans is down, but Idol gets to his feet instinctively.  Idol is in the corner, he grabs the ropes, and shakes them, he's taunting Ryans, daring him to get back up.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]We know what this is.  It looks like it's time for the Jungle Kick!  Ryans is on his feet, SoL raises his foot, for the kick, but Ryans ducks under!  Ryans connects with a Death Row DDT!  This one is over!  Ryans Plants SoL, Ryans makes the cover!

1


2


3!

Ryans has pinned SoL!

Ryans has defeated Solomon Idol! 

[COLOR="#DAA520"]Cappetta: [/COLOR] The winner, and the final man to advance to the second round of the Owners Cup Tournament, Ken Ryans!

Ken Ryans stands triumphantly in the middle of the ring, the referee raises his hand and Ryans is all smiles.

[COLOR="#FFA07A"]Tony: [/COLOR]Thanks for being with us here tonight, for everyone here at LPW, we hope you join us for round two of the Owners Cup Tournament!