Footsteps across debris. Approaching.


A pain in the nipple.

Footsteps end.

A new, more searing pain in the nipple – as if something was tugged from it.

Pulsating, throbbing pain.

“Why can’t I see? Why can’t I speak?” Jerry David thinks. “What is this on my head?”


Crumpling paper.

Footsteps on debris. Fading.

“Where am I?” he thinks, “Is this a dream?”

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The Hilton Grand, Las Vegas

The day before Domination 14

“Come on, you maggots! Pick up the pace! Hup-two-three-four! Move it, MOVE IT!”

The muscular brunette in the leather jacket momentarily leaves her spot at the head of the single-line formation to hit the group of men following her – each of whom is carrying one or more large suitcases over their heads – across the legs and knees with her truncheon, as she continues to berate them verbally.

“You call yourselves professional wrestlers, you fat, lazy, out-of-shape wastes of oxygen? You ought’a be ashamed of yourselves!” She doles out a few more measures of punishment, before barking out another order for the wincing, grimacing group to “MOVE IT!”

“Please, Corporal Wright, ma’am, if I could just…” The attempt to reason from one of the members of the group – GLOBAL Wrestling’s most unremarkable roster member, Joe Public – is cut off before it even begins by a snarl from the woman.

“Permission DENIED, cadet. You had your shot, and you blew it. That makes you nothing but a loser. And losers belong at the back of the line, with their mouths shut.” She then turns to the very large man at the back of the line. “You know what? Just for that…Dann, give this maggot that suitcase. He’ll carry it.” Then, an evil smirk dawning on her lips, she lets her gaze run over the remainder of the group, which consists of a slender masked man, a brawny Irishman and a slovenly slob. “In fact, he’ll carry EVERYONE’s suitcases. Maybe that’ll teach him the value of effort and sacrifice for the greater good.”

“Ma’am, please…!” A look of horror crosses Public’s features as he suddenly finds himself struggling with half a dozen packed suitcases, the rest of the group – their loads now considerably lightened – jogging nimbly away from him.

Just as he has lost all hope of ever catching up, however, the group halts outside a well-appointed room, its luxury plainly visible through the double glass doors. Officer Wright once again detaches herself from the formation, this time to peer through the glass into the room.

“Great. They’re all in there.” She then turns to the large, husky man and the Irish brawler at the front of the line. “You two. Go in there and request a match against the tramp and the little girl.” She then addresses the masked man. “You, ask to face the little Southern Belle.”

The three men gape at her in disbelief – or, well, the two whose eyes are visible do, anyway, although the third one’s body language also denotes surprise.

“Ma’am, we can’t…that’s the Executive Lounge! We can’t just walk in there and…”

Steve Dann’s protestations are, however, met with disdain on the part of the group’s self-appointed commanding officer.

“You wastes of oxygen must be happy just being snivelling, idiotic maggots for the rest of your worthless little lives…”

“Well, no, but…”

The large man’s retort is cut short when, with a sudden movement, Corporal Wright reached down and grabs his and his Irish companion’s sensitive parts in each of her hands, making both men wince.

“…’but’ what, Dann? Do you have anything you want to say to me?”

“M-Ma’am, please…they…it’s the B– the B-Board of D-Directors..we’re nobody…we can’t…”

Once again, Wright cuts in before the Fat Man can finish his sentence.

“You know, Dann, that’s the first correct thing any of you maggots has said so far. You’re right. You ARE nobody. But you don’t HAVE to be. You can put on your big boy pants, go in there, and be somebody for once in your pathetic life. Now DO IT.”

The Fat Man, however, still seems reluctant.

“B-but Ma’am…”

Another sudden movement sees Wright lean in as close to their faces as she can, her voice now a low snarl.

“Dann…I want you to really think about what would be worse. What they might do to you if you go in there…” The police officer cinches her hold in tighter, bringing both men to their tippy toes and tears to their eyes. “…or what I’m GOING to do to you if you DON’T?”

This finally has the effect of making up both men’s minds – as well as everyone else’s in the group – as they each give off a curt nod, then – as Wright blessedly releases her vice grip – almost scramble to be the first to cross over the double doors and into the dining hall beyond.

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The usual call – not to prayer, but to cheering – comes through the arena PA a few moments before the GLOBAL World Tag Team Champions emerge through the curtain, clad, as ever, in location-appropriate attire. Unsurprisingly, the duo are cosplaying this evening as high-rollers, complete with faux-fur coats, presumably fake diamond rings (though considering the girls’ provenance and background, they may well be real) and outrageous shades, on top of glittery gold and silver wrestling attire, clearly made to achieve the effect of an expensive evening gown, as well as to match the belts around their shoulders. Coming down the ramp, their attitude is also a little different from usual, as they make a show of acting entitled, pulling pouty-faces for held-up cameras and offering dainty hands for high-fives.

“Teagan and Izzy have gotten into the Vegas spirit…you gotta love it!”

“These girls are a ray of sunshine every time they appear. No wonder crowds everywhere love them!”

Indeed, even with the obviously put-on snobbishness, the two Tag Team Champions still get a huge cheer as they make their way to ringside and procure microphones. As they gain the center of the ring, the Vegas crowd knows what is coming, and chants the usual intro right along with the Champs.

“If you don’t know who we are…”

“…you should have been paying ATTENTION!”

“WE ARE…GLOBAL Wrestling’s ONLY officially sanctioned streamers…wrestling’s very own Team Rocket…THE hottest prospects in FIFTY-ONE STATES and TWO CONTINENTS…the little girls in the middle of the ride…the foxes you’ve been waiting for…and STILL! YOUR! WORLD! TAG! TEAM! CHAMPIOOOOOONSSSS….!” Both women hold their belts up, to another sizeable cheer. “I’m Trouble…she Roxx…and together, we’re…”

“…TROUBLE ROXX!!” Izzy joins in with her partner for the finale, as usual, before leaving the superior talker of the duo to take care of the unique part of the speech.

“Well…not much to say tonight…it’s not even an open challenge, the dudes in the top office picked the opponents out for us beforehand…” Teagan grimaces and gives a thumbs-down, but her face quickly lights up again, revealing her true feelings about the match at hand. “And because we’re facing the Riches…we thought we’d dress the part…”

The two girls give a little twirl, as the Vegas crowd chuckles, before Teagan speaks up once again.

“And you know what? They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas…but we don’t roll like that. We want the WORLD to see this one! So, Freddy, Jason, Michael, Jigsaw…” The redhead turns to her partner in mock puzzlement. “That’s them, right?”

Izzy shrugs, playing along, which draws another chuckle from the crowd. Teagan patiently waits for it to subside before concluding.

“Just kidding. Get on down here, guys, and let’s give these people a show. After all, we ARE in Vegas…!”

No more than a moment of silence elapses after the conclusion of this speech before the Rich Family’s theme song starts up on the arena PA, and Declan and Todd Rich step through the curtain, followed closely behind by GLOBAL Head Referee Barry Snider. The camera catches the huge smiles on Teagan and Izzy’s faces as they dispose of their costumes and microphones and prepare for yet another title defence – this one, unlike the previous four or so, scheduled beforehand. A moment later, Snider enters the ring himself and calls for the bell, getting the contest officially under way.

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The match begins with the requisite double fist-bump between all four parties, before Trouble Roxx engage in a round of rock-paper-scissors to decide who should be the legal woman, which Izzy Roxx wins. On the Rich Family side, Todd Rich is elected to go first, and steps into the center of the ring to meet Izzy. The two share another quick fistbump as the bell rings, then begin to circle, looking for an opening.

Todd makes the first move, running forward with a high knee; Izzy, however, counters it into an arm drag, which sends the Rich Family member sprawling. Todd recovers quickly, and once again rushes in, but another armdrag sends him flying the other way. His lesson learned, the Rich Family heir bides his time as he rolls through to his feet, letting Izzy come to him this time around – which she almost immediately does, leaping into a headscissors takedown. Todd, however, is ready, and counters it into a flapjack, sending Izzy crashing face-first into the turnbuckle. The Tag Team Champion recovers quickly, but Todd is waiting behind her, ready to pull her in for a Blue Thunder Bomb, which causes an early pinning predicament.


TWO—soon for that, Todd!

“Neither competitor wasting any time here, and this one has started out at a frantic pace!”

“Let’s see if they can keep it up…”

After the early pinning predicament, Todd is still in control, and promptly busts Izzy’s brain with the move of the same name. He then waits for the younger woman to pull herself up to one knee, before taking her down again with a leg lariat. He rolls through to his feet, leans down, and picks Roxx up once again, this time twisting her into a hangman’s neckbreaker, which plants her on the mat again.

“Izzy Roxx having difficulty here against the technically sound Todd Rich…”

“…and it’s about to get worse for her, as here comes his even MORE technically sound brother!”

Indeed, with his team firmly in control, Todd decides to switch out with his brother, perhaps to keep fresh ahead of what promises to be a gruelling bout for the GLOBAL World Tag Team Championships. As such, when Izzy gets up, she comes face to face with a different – and fresh – opponent, who immediately takes her back down with a brainbuster of his own! He then brings her back up to her feet and connects with an inverted suplex slam, only to lift her up a third time, this time into a bridging Northern Lights suplex, which he bridges. Referee Barry Snider slides in to count…


T—hrows her shoulder up!

“Another kickout by Izzy, but the Tag Team Champions are still struggling to find their way into this match.”

“Do you know what it is, Lucas? They’re used to starting off strong. This time, they started on the back foot, and that’s what throwing them off.”

“You may be onto something there, actually, Mark…”

Just as the two male announcers talk about her difficulty getting into the match, however, Izzy seems to overhear, and sets about proving them wrong, surprising Todd by leaping up into a hurricanrana out of nowhere, which throws him over to the other side of the ring. Roxx then connects with a baseball bat slide, throwing the Rich Family member out of the ring, before vaulting over the ropes with a springboard split-legged moonsault to the outside!

“THERE’s the Izzy we know! No risk too big!”

“Way to shut us up, kid.”

As Lucas playfully admits his and Mark Deltzer’s haste in judging Izzy’s performance, the woman herself is picking herself up and shaking off the effects of her dive. Her seemingly sensible stance, however, only lasts as long as it takes for her to vault onto the apron and connect with a diving elbow drop onto Declan! She then pulls herself to her feet again, leaps onto the apron once more, and drops a leg on the Rich family member.

“Izzy has really turned things around for herself and her team here, and Trouble Roxx now clearly have the upper hand.”

As she waits for Declan Rich to return to his feet, Izzy decides to take a page from her opponents’ play book and tag in her own partner. As such, when Declan re-enters the ring, he finds himself face to face with Teagan Trouble, who is already barrelling forward and leaping into an elbow smash. Declan is thrown back against the ropes, and Teagan wastes no time connecting with her trademark spinning heel kick, throwing him over the ropes and back onto the outside. Then, like Izzy before her, she takes a head start and vaults onto the ropes, then off of them with a big crossbody, which lands flush!

“Big air from Teagan Trouble, and now it’s the Riches who need to find a way back into this match.”

Indeed, as Teagan rolls her opponent back into the ring, she is still firmly in control, which she only asserts further with a diving elbow drop, quickly followed by a standing fist drop. She then once again walks over to tag in Izzy, positioning herself underneath the turnbuckle as her partner climbs it, the better to hold onto her for Lift-Off. Thus, the moment Declan returns to his feet, he is met with the sight of Izzy swooping down onto him…

…causing him to dive out of the way, and Izzy to come crashing down on referee Gabrielle Harris instead!

“Oh, dear.”

“NOT good.”

“It looks like Gabrielle is out cold, and Izzy Roxx looks mortified, even though it was an accident…”

Izzy is, indeed, ashen as she begins to shake Gabrielle, muttering something at what appears to be a high rate of speed. Teagan and Todd Rich also join in, all of them having a vested interest in continuing what has so far been another excellent title defence from Trouble Roxx. Once he recovers his bearings, Declan also seeks to step over and help…

…but instead finds himself dragged out of the ring by the leg by two newly arrived figures at ringside!!

“What are THEY doing here?!”

Boos begin to rain down from the Las Vegas crowd as Trae Larkin and Jimmy Classic drop Declan Rich with stereo Prime Time Kicks, then put the stomps to him on the floor. His partner and opponents, however, promptly leap into action – literally, as they vault over the ropes with triple suicide dives, taking the two men down and effectively ending what looked set to become a beatdown on the hapless Declan. Unfortunately, the move takes a toll on them, as well, and as such, when referee Gabrielle finally comes to her senses – the combined efforts of the two teams having been successful – she is faced with a tableau of fallen wrestlers, each writhing on the floor, with at least two not booked to compete in the match. Uncertain of what to do, she allows herself a brief deer-in-headlights look, before steeling her resolve and beginning a ten-count.



The competitors continue to stir, but none are pulling themselves up to their feet just yet.



Teagan Trouble, Izzy Roxx and Todd Rich begin to roll over onto their elbows.



Teagan, Izzy and Todd pull themselves up…


…and begin to stagger towards the apron.


While taking a step forward, Todd feels his leg be snatched by something. He looks behind him and sees a smirking Trae Larkin holding his ankle, causing him to trip…


…right on top of Trouble Roxx, who are about to climb onto the apron, but instead find themselves losing their footing and face-planting to the concrete, just as Gabrielle counts…


…making the contest a double count-out!


“Curse those Prime Time Athletes, robbing us of a great match before it barely even started!”

“And they are not done yet, Lucas – look!”

Indeed, Larkin and Classic have profited from the tumble they caused to roll through to their feet, and are preparing to engage their opponents yet again. They are surprised, however, when all three suddenly spring up, Todd Rich hitting Larkin with a Jumping DDT, while Teagan connects with an uppercut to Classic, then allows Izzy to dropkick him before finishing him off with the rolling cutter she calls Feel the Energy! Caught completely by surprise, the two PTA members drop like stones, and the fan-favorites take a moment to congratulate themselves on a job well done, raising each other’s hands. It is not long, however, before their attention turns to reviving Declan, an objective they have not yet quite achieved as the EMT team finally arrives at ringside, and the feed cuts elsewhere, away from the frustrated Las Vegas fans, who just got prematurely deprived of what looked to be an excellent match.

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To the announce table with the trusty GLOBAL Commentary team. 

“We’ve got a big main event later tonight,” says Lucas Quinn, “when “Big Aug” August Lazar mixes it up with the self-professed GLOBAL Hall of Famer Aleczander The Great in a rematch from our first pay-per-view, Magnum Opus!”

“Big Aug hasn’t forgotten about how he was cheated out of the #1 Contendership to the GLOBAL World Championship some time ago,” Allie says. “But we gotta talk about what happened earlier today before the show with Xiang, The Great Wall and Wrestletronic at a GLOBAL meet and greet earlier this afternoon.”

“That was something!” Mark Deltzer says. “Wrestletronic, the newcomer, has gone 2-0 and that most recent win came off a great contest with Xiang. But that clearly didn’t sit well with Xiang. While Wrestletronic and his uh… manager, I guess, MC Graps were taking pictures before the show with some fans, we understand there was a confrontation. Can one of the tech monkeys roll that footage, please and thank you?”


The lower third graphic flashes at the bottom of the screen. Standing in the middle of the screen with both men dressed in gold-colored masks, The DJ of Lucha Libre called Wrestletronic and his own personal DJ and manager, the smaller MC Graps, both pose for pictures with the fans. Both men have their masks on, but dressed otherwise in dark green tracksuits for tonight’s occasion, and pose for pictures. 

“Tell your friends, tell your friends!” MC Graps announces to the crowd. “You got to see Wrestletronic here tonight! We’re making moves and bringing the grooves! Come on! Who’s next!”

A young blonde woman and her slightly taller dark-haired boyfriend approach wearing Sean Darring and Big Aug merch respectively. 

“Dude, this is sick!” The guy tells his girl. “This rules!” 

“Can’t believe we’re finally here!” she says. “The show’s gonna be awesome tonight!”

MC Graps nods and smiles at the pair under his mask. “Hey, thanks for the support. We know Tron is new here, but happy to have some fans already. Stand over here.”

He leads Tron and the group together to pose for a photo-op. After the picture is snapped, they shake hands. 

“Thank you!” MC Graps says. “Enjoy the show tonight, my dudes!”

They start to walk off as Wrestletronic and MCGraps get ready to meet the next group in the line. They take pictures with a young family of four quickly after some chatter amongst them, and then head out with the young child getting a signed t-shirt. 

“Thanks, party people, enjoy the show!” MC Graps shouts. He turns to Wrestletronic. “Who’s next?”

Wrestletronic turns his head… and then stops.

Slowly skulking in front of the table and getting some reactions from the onlookers just on the other side of the line, Xiang and his massive associate, The Great Wall are both wearing red tracksuits of their own with The Artist of War and The Guangzhou Goliath ANGRILY staring holes through the luchador and his manager. 

“You guys want autographs, fam, y’all gotta wait in line,” MC Graps tells them. 

Xiang and TGW exchange glances, then The Artist of War turns around. 

“No.” he snaps. “Neither me nor my associate are here for this three-ring circus that you have going on. Rematch. You and I. TONIGHT.” 

MC Graps turns to Wrestletronic, then The DJ of Lucha Libre finally speaks. 

“You…” Wrestletronic points at Xiang. “You…” Wrestletronic points at The Great Wall. “Assholes. Brah, there ain’t gonna be a rematch tonight.”

The crowd nearby “OOOOHS” after that. 

“You got DROPPED, Xiangy!” MC Graps says, jumping in for his friend. “We’ve got our sights set a little higher, so why don’t you and Lurch back there go doop-de-doop on out of Tron’s shot, kay! These people came for a real party! Not the pouting…”

Before he can finish that statement, The Great Wall CRACKS Graps upside the head with a swift elbow strike! Graps hits the ground and some of the on-lookers jump! A few fans take pictures, knowing they’re seeing something. Wrestletronic jumps right to the defense of his friend as The Great Wall readies another strike. He cocks a fist back, but Xiang holds a hand up to call off the big man. 

“I won’t ask a second time,” Xiang snaps. “That win you had over me was a JOKE… and tonight. I’m going to rectify that. Now… rematch. Tonight.”

Wrestletronic snarls at Xiang underneath his mask while he keeps one eye on his manager to make sure he’s okay. 

“I’ll take your silence as a yes, then,” Xiang hisses. “Wǒ shāo hòuzài chù lǐnǐ.”

With that, Xiang nods to his massive associate and the two walk off as security rush in to check in on MC Graps. Wrestletronic stares as they march off, happy with what they’ve got.

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The camera focuses intensely on the glistening masterpiece, the coveted GLOBAL Championship title that stands as the epitome of this esteemed industry. The room falls into a profound silence, as if time itself pauses to pay homage to the magnitude of this moment. The camera remains fixated for fifteen seconds, allowing the world to behold the significance, honor, and relentless determination that this championship belt symbolizes. The aura of prestige and sacrifice emanates from every crevice of the golden masterpiece, captivating the hearts of fans worldwide. In this solemn moment, the GLOBAL Championship shines as a beacon of excellence, a testament to the relentless pursuit of greatness by the warriors who strive to hold it high above all others.

The camera pans back, revealing the man who has dedicated the last eight months to relentless battles, carrying the banner of Global as a true ambassador – none other than the esteemed Global Champion, “The Legend” Sean Darring. Radiating an air of poise and dignity, he stands tall in his tailored black suit, elegantly donning a purple tie representing the brand of Global with pride.

Like the enchanted fans who gazed upon the illustrious golden prize, Sean Darring’s eyes are fixated on the majestic Global Championship. His unwavering focus and admiration for the prestigious title are a testament to his reverence for this pinnacle of achievement in professional wrestling. The Global Championship embodies the culmination of his tireless efforts, sacrifices, and unwavering determination to be the best.

Breaking the profound silence enveloping the room, “The Legend” Sean Darring finally speaks. His words carry the weight of battles fought and triumphs earned. With a sense of reflection and gratitude, he begins, “It started with Magnum Opus, and then I weathered the storm of Gold Rush. And now, as we approach Glory, I can’t help but look back on the arduous journey that has brought me to this moment – a moment of immense pride and honor as the Global Champion.”

The fire in his piercing eyes reveals the countless challenges he has overcome, facing a formidable roster of wrestling greats like Daniel Dream, Alex Reign, Aleczander The Great, and a host of others.

He continues, “Being the champion is a different way of life. Every moment, every action is scrutinized, with all eyes fixed on the champion. There’s a constant expectation and relentless pressure to represent the brand with utmost excellence. And in this spotlight, any sign of weakness invites the pack of hungry wolves to strike.”

Yet, despite the challenges and demands, Sean Darring’s expression remains resolute, his unwavering determination evident. “The same burning desire drives each of us here tonight – to be part of this moment, to bask in the glory of this championship. We put ourselves through grueling battles, our bodies never truly given time to heal, and our minds continuously tested. But it’s all for this – this moment of glory.”

A deep breath fills the room, ushering in a moment of pause and significance. The tone of Sean Darring’s voice undergoes a subtle shift, and with one word, it carries a blend of determination and disdain. “Benedict Beel Zebub,” he addresses, “you have attempted to turn this grand legacy into a mockery. You sought to hijack what was meant to be the final battle, the ultimate test between the Chosen One, Daniel Dream, and myself. You inserted yourself as the focal point, trying to overshadow our moment with your schemes.”

The legend’s disapproval is evident as he shakes his head, harboring no respect for the deceitful tactics employed by his conniving adversary. He now turns his attention to his future opponent, Daniel Dream, delivering a powerful message. “Chosen One, Daniel Dream, tonight marks the final step before we officially cement our rematch. This is our chance to fulfill our promise when we signed our Global contracts – to step into this ring as true gladiators and forge our legacy with the respect and honor it truly deserves in front of our people, Global Nation.”

There is a genuine admiration in the champion’s voice as he speaks about the fans of Global, who have always stood by him. “Let’s leave the noise in the back, cut the strings that tie us to the chaos, and walk out like the men we entered this great company as. Let’s stand face to-face inside that ring with our mutual respect for one another. Let’s sign that contract and, as the ink dries, allow the fans to bask in the excitement as the countdown to Glory commences.”

The camera turns, focusing again on the most coveted prize in our industry – the Global Championship title. The final words of the legend resonate with authority and conviction, carrying a sense of anticipation and challenge. “Tonight, I will see you in that ring. We all choose the “chosen one.” I trust you won’t disappoint us all.”

The legend lets those final words set in for Daniel Dream to think about.

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“Listen, Benedict, I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, but I’ve got news for you. I don’t need to follow your script or anyone else’s. The scriptwriters of Hollywood are out on strike, and guess what? I’m not following ANYONE’S script. I’m writing my own story in that ring, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else dictate my path. So, if you want to be a part of this journey, you better start understanding that I call the shots now.”

The dimly lit locker room exudes an aura of anticipation as the air hangs heavy with the scent of sweat and adrenaline. Rows of lockers line the walls, adorned with worn-out tape. Daniel Dream stands tall, his presence commanding attention. His chiseled physique glistens under the soft glow of the overhead lights, the definition of his muscles a testament to years of relentless training. The locker room mirrors, now smudged and marked with the remnants of countless face paint transformations, reflect a man determined and focused. With each breath, he inhales the energy of the room, absorbing the collective desires and aspirations of those who have walked the same path. In this sanctuary of warriors, Daniel Dream stands as a symbol of resilience, ready to unleash his dreams upon the canvas of the wrestling ring.

Benedict Beel Zebub, the enigmatic figure, lingers in the shadows of the locker room, his presence both commanding and unnerving. His sharp features are accentuated by the dim lighting, his eyes glistening with a mix of authority and concealed disappointment. A faint furrow forms on his brow, betraying his frustration as Daniel Dream’s words veer off the expected path. The air seems to thicken around him, as if his disappointment carries weight, casting an uneasy pall over the room. His lips, usually curved in a sly smile, now form a subtle downturn, a flicker of discontent in an otherwise composed façade. Benedict’s piercing gaze remains fixed on Daniel, a silent reminder that deviation from his carefully crafted plans does not go unnoticed.

“I must admit, GLOBAL has been kind enough to provide me with the contract for the contract signing in advance,” Benedict Beel Zebub states with a hint of smugness, his voice dripping with calculated confidence. “Rest assured, Daniel, I have thoroughly read and scrutinized every clause, ensuring that it aligns perfectly with your own interests. There will be no surprises, no hidden agendas. I have made certain of it. This is an opportunity for you to secure your path to greatness, to claim what is rightfully yours. With my guidance and strategic maneuvering, we shall leave nothing to chance, and victory will be within our grasp.”

Daniel Dream’s lips curl into a sardonic smile as he retorts, his voice laced with a touch of cynicism, “No hidden agenda, huh? Well, except for yours, Benedict. I’ve learned not to trust everything that’s presented to me on a silver platter. But don’t worry, I’ve got my eyes wide open. I’ll make sure to read every line and protect my own interests, just like you’ve been protecting yours all along.”

Benedict Beel Zebub’s countenance shifts, a glimmer of disappointment crossing his features like a fleeting shadow. His brows furrow ever so slightly, a subtle hint of offense lurking in his eyes. The corners of his lips quiver, as if struggling to maintain their composure, betraying a sense of wounded pride. It is a momentary crack in his stoic façade, a glimpse of vulnerability that swiftly recedes, replaced by a façade of indifference, masking the emotions that momentarily flickered in his gaze.

With determination etched upon his face, Daniel Dream strides out of the locker room, his every step resonating with purpose. The dim light flickers off his chiseled features, accentuating the intensity in his eyes. The air crackles with an electric anticipation as he moves through the corridors, his presence commanding attention from those he passes. The weight of his aspirations hangs heavy in the atmosphere, a palpable force propelling him forward on his path to glory.

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“What a tense altercation we saw earlier,” Lucas Quinn says. “Xiang wasn’t happy with being embarrassed by the newcomer Wrestletronic. He strongarmed his way into a rematch tonight by having The Great Wall attack MC Graps.”

“We’ve seen Wrestletronic look great when he wants to lead the party, but the true test of a man is what happens when they’re pushed.” Mark Deltzer says. 

“Yes, but Xiang could have just gone about it the respectful way and talk to him like a man in a locker room. Not demanding one in the middle of an autograph singing which isn’t the place for that.”

Lucan Quinn nods. “Agreed. With that, let’s take it to the next match in a rematch from our last episode of Domination: Xiang vs. Wrestletronic tonight!”

With the story behind the next match out of the way, “Downtown” Jason Brown is ready for intros. 

“The following singles match is set for one fall!” Brown shouts. “Introducing first… from Beijing, China, weighing in at 221 pounds, accompanied by The Great wall. Representing The Xiang Dynasty… this… is… XIANG!”

“War Dance” by Shen Yi. 

The lights begin swirling in two different shades of red as out from the back, Xiang steps out. With The Guangzhou Goliath standing tall and proud right behind him, Xiang gives the jeering fans a disdainful gaze in their respective directions and unzip his track jacket as he approaches the ring. Once the two men reach ringside, Xiang stands on the ring apron and casts one more look before stepping over the ropes, looking to rectify a loss suffered. 

The lights all fade out and go black. After a few moments of silence, the screen lights up in bright shades of green and yellow…


“The Night Begins To Shine (Dragon Remix)” by B.E.R plays and the crowd cheers for the unnecessarily gaudy entrance! Tonight, there’s no MC Graps after suffering a big strike from The Great Wall during the earlier morning’s autograph signing and no fancy DJ set playing him out. Simply, The DJ of Lucha Libre doesn’t even pose and starts running toward the ring quickly!

“And his opponent… from The Electric Daisy Carnival, weighing in at 217 pounds… WRESTLETRONIC!

Wearing a yellow mask with all facial features obstructed with a black fabric, green/yellow sleeves and a half-green/half-yellow pattern on his tights adorned with musical notes, microphones, and turntables, The Maestro of Moves is still speeding towards the ring! Xiang cuts him off at the pass as he slides into the ring, delivering stomps as the bell rings!


The Artist of War picks up Wrestletronic off the ropes and then delivers a pair of knife-edge chops across the chest. He has the DJ of Lucha Libre up against the ropes and then delivers a third one that has him wincing in pain. Xiang shakes his hand and then starts running a forearm across the masked face of Tron. 

“Xiǎochǒu,” Xiang hisses under his breath, indicating he’s calling Wrestletronic something unfavorable. 

With The Great Wall watching on from outside, Xiang whips him across the ring. When he comes back, The DJ of Lucha Libre ducks under the shot and keeps running. He misses off the rebound a second time, then comes back and CONNECTS with a running dropkick to the face! The GLOBAL Nation cheers on the musically-inclined sensation as he takes a moment to collect himself, then kips to his feet!

“Get ready to learn EDM, buddy!” Wrestletronic yells. 

As Xiang starts to stumble around to his feet, he gets whipped into the ropes. Wrestletronic hits a hip toss, then a cartwheel before CRACKING Xiang across the jaw…


Xiang holds his face in pain and then Wrestletronic tries to make the quick cover!



The Artist of War kicks out, then rolls off under the bottom rope to try and save himself! Wrestletronic is back on his feet and shouts to the GLOBAL Nation before he leaps over the ropes to land on the apron next to Xiang. He nails him with a set of forearms and tries to save himself…

When The Great Wall starts to lurch over the ring, The Guardian of The Grooves shouts at The Guangzhou Goliath to do something. 

But that’s all Xiang needs… kick to the gut… 


Xiang leaps to the floor and then drops Wrestletronic on the SECOND hardest part of the ring (ring posts, number one, by the by). The fans collectively groan after the drop while Xiang takes a second to recover. With Wrestletronic incapacitated for the moment, The Artist of War ignores the jeering crowd and then pushes him back into the ring. He goes to make sure that ‘Tronic is away from the ropes and then tries to pin him by hooking the leg. 




Wrestletronic gets the shoulder up and Xiang slaps the mat out of frustration. 

“Biased official,” Xiang snarls. 

He snatches Wrestletronic off the mat and runs him over to the corner to smack his face against the top turnbuckle. As The DJ of Lucha Libre gets disoriented, Xiang drives a shoulder repeatedly into the midsection of his opponent to work him over. Wrestletronic is doubled over when Xiang leans a foot back…




Three stiff shoot-style kicks catch ‘Tronic against his chest before Xiang pulls him out of the corner by his arm and leaves him doubled over. The Artist of War basks in the jeers, then runs off the ropes to connect with a big running penalty kick! Wrestletronic hits the mat and then Xiang goes for another covert. 




The shoulder of Wrestletronic goes up, as does Xiang’s anger when he doesn’t secure the win like he thought he would! He angrily glares at the referee again and snarls before he picks up Wrestletronic again. 

“I WILL beat you!” he shouts. 

He picks up The Guardian of the Grooves and whips him off to the ropes. He charges in with a running chop, but Wresltetronic ducks and surprises Xiang off the rebound with a big flying back elbow! 

The people cheer as Wrestletronic takes a moment to collect himself, then does a spin off his back and breakdances his way to his feet! He fires up and whips Xiang into the corner, then charges…

Nothing but Xiang’s elbow! 

But the fire is short-lived as Xiang catches him first. He takes a moment and then charges… but walks right into a big one-man flapjack by the DJ of Lucha Libre! Wrestletronic is up to his feet as Xiang has been sufficiently rocked. He staggers around the mat as Xiang points up to the heavens… 

“This one’s for you, Graps!” he shouts… 

I mean, he’s not DEAD, but still not cool to attack the man making his tunes… 


Xiang gets lit up across the jaw with a leaping Superman punch! He stumbles backward into the ropes, then back into Wrestletronic’s grip with a big sit-out spinebuster! The GLOBAL Nation cheers as he goes for the cover from the sit-out position!




The Artist of War kicks out and the rowdy Las Vegas crowd is deflated quickly! The Great Wall continues to watch on from the outside stoically with arms folded as Wrestletronic looks out at him and tells him he’s going to beat his boy a second time!

The DJ of Lucha Libra points to the top rope as the fans are about to see a flight. He starts to go to the corner, but the fans jeer when Xiang goes the other way! He tries to get out to the apron… 

“Oh, hells naw…” Wrestletronic shouts. 

He charges and clips Xiang upside the head with a big kick. The Artist of War gets rocked when he gets hip-tossed over the ropes back into the ring! With Xiang stunned, Wrestletronic goes to the nearby middle rope and waits for the Chinese star to get back to his feet. Wrestletronic double-jumps from the middle buckle to the top, then onto Xiang with a HUGE crossbody…


Xiang moves first! 

After baiting Wrestletronic into a big move, he STUNS him with a thrust kick as musically-inclined luchador as he’s on his knees! Wrestletronic is stunned in place when Xiang hooks him by the neck… 


The kneeling snap DDT drops Wrestletronic right on his dome and the GLOBAL Nation jeers him as he rolls Wrestletronic over into a high and tight cover!





The fans cheer when Wrestletronic shows heart and kicks out of the big move! He growls and now Xiang is about to come unglued! He shouts at the official that he had a three-count and he had the goofy masked man beat, then turns to try and pick up Wrestletronic, only to catch a punch to the gut! Then another! Then another! Xiang counters with a knee strike! 

With Wrestletronic down, Xiang leans back to the ropes and then slowly rises to the middle rope. He has him locked in his sights and he’s going for his flying double knee facebreaker…


The Blood Red Sunset misses when Wrestletronic moves! He goes to hook the leg of Xiang and twists him around… 


Named after the 90’s techno song that only EVERYONE has probably heard, the hit by Darude scores and the lightning spiral may be in danger of putting Xiang away as Wrestletronic goes for the cover!




Xiang manages to slip a hand near the ropes and the referee barely catches it! Wrestletronic thinks he’s won for a moment, but the official points at the ropes. 

“No! Hand was on the rope! The match continues!” he shouts. 

The GLOBAL Nation still cheers on ‘Tronic as he clutches a fist! He waits for Xiang to get to his feet again and when he’s close, the stumbling technician is down when Wrestletronic leaps to the middle rope… 


And the official doesn’t see it as Xiang has diverted his attention! 


The GLOBAL Nation voice their displeasure as Xiang laughs and then sneaks over to the middle rope after the massive cheap shot from the outside by The Great Wall! Xiang laughs and waits as Wrestletronic tries to gain his bearings… 


The flying double-knee facebreaker connects! Wrestletronic goes down in a heap, then Xiang rolls right into the cover as the fans jeer him for what he and The Great Wall have done! 





Xiang rolls off and then stands up to demand that Shane Staggs raise his hand. The official reluctantly does so and Xiang stares out proudly. 

“Here is your winner of the match…” Jason Brown announces. “…XIANG!

But he’s not done yet as he asks for a microphone! Wrestletronic’s music has died and is still laid out after being waffled with a chop from a large giant. Xiang has the microphone as The Great Wall enters the ring. 

“Wrestletronic…” he says. “…This victory should be enough. It really should be… but it comes to mind that we are only 1-1 in this ring…”

He huffs after his match. 

“…And I will NOT have my superiority in doubt by having people think that YOU, a dancing and singing clown… are equal to ME! At GLORY… when you wake up, anyway… we finish this. I expose you as the joke you are. Then The Great Wall and I move on to bigger and better things!”

The Artist of War shoves the microphone into the chest of Shane Staggs and then he nods to The Great Wall so they can depart the ring. Xiang climbs through the ropes and The Great Wall steps over the ropes behind him. 

“What a match that was… ruined by The Great Wall’s interference!” Lucas Quinn says. 

“And a third match at Glory?!” Mark Deltzer says. “No doubt that match is going to be made official after tonight! No way we see Wrestletronic taking this laying down… maybe a bad choice of words after how that match ended, though…”

“Xiang used The Great Wall as an equalizer and I’m sure he’ll have plans to do the same at Glory! Wrestletronic was without MC Graps tonight and got outnumbered.” Allie Reece says. 

The final shot is a defeated Wresltetronic starting to hobble up, staring down Xiang and The Great Wall who depart as the show moves on. 

LOGO b&w


Last night at around 8pm.

The missing figure of Giovanni Ferrarri is looking at some things in GLOBAL’s answer to the Oval Office, where many of his finest and most frustrating moments have happened.  Suited, as ever, however, the handsome CEO and President of the company doesn’t look like he has prospered from a few weeks away, and appears weathered, jaded and in need of another break soon, only his 46th of the year thus far.

The former 19-time kingpin, Ray Young, decked out in the finest threads himself, a fetching green number and sky blue tie, gently taps the door, smiling from ear to ear like Alice in Wonderland’s most famous feline. “My man, it is great to see you,” Young exclaims, squashing the now upstanding Giovanni with a bearhug mightier than any Young actually administered in his near 40-year career.

“What’s new, Ray?  I’ve missed you.  You’re looking sharp.  Are you SURE you don’t wanna get back in the ring and challenge Darring?”

Giovanni gently squeezes Ray’s right bicep and then beckons for him to sit.  Ray adjust his tie before shaking his head. “Don’t tempt me.  Anyway, G, I’ve been hearing some whispers,” Young starts, nervously scratching his white mane with the palm of his hand.

“Talked to Adam, Stanley and a few others.  Between you and me,” Ray leans in, whispering into Giovanni’s left ear.

“They’re thinking of firing you if Dream doesn’t get the job done against Darring at Glory.”

LOGO b&w


The feed returns to ringside just in time to catch the first strands of the Angel Corps team song starting up on the arena speakers – which, predictably, is enough to bring the crowd to their feet. What started out as a mild cheer intensifies when, a moment later, Angel Ramirez and Saul Morgan make their appearance, the former literally bursting through the curtain and beginning to slap every hand in sight, while the latter snaps off a salute to the crowd before beginning to walk calmly behind his ebullient young partner, looking on benevolently as she does her “thing”.

“Always a good time when Angel Ramirez is in the house!”

“I agree, Lucas. Her energy is contagious. She always tries to see the bright side, probably because of her upbringing…”

“…or lack thereof.”


As Allie and Lucas discuss GLOBAL’s youngest roster member, she and her partner make their way to ringside and – after granting a few more requests for high-fives and selfies – climb the ring steps, Angel grabbing a microphone along the way.

“’The Kid”s got a microphone…and that’s not necessarily a good thing…”

“Careful, Angel…don’t talk yourself into trouble.”

Despite Mark and Allie’s concerns, however, when Angel does speak, she does so with a fairly neutral tone.

“Yo…they told us we had a match here tonight…we here. Where the other guys at?” ‘The Kid’ makes a show of looking around, then frowns. “Hell, who even IS the other guys?” After no more than a moment’s consideration, however, she simply shrugs, before looking over at the entranceway and laying down the challenge. “Whatever…whos’ever you is, get’cha asses down here so me and Saul can kick ’em and go get our KFC on!”

As if on cue, two figures come out of the entrance curtain, their arrival scored by the most generic of guitar-rock themes: an extremely large and girthy man, and a wizened old Irishman, a few years past his prime, his face lined with battle scars from all the bumps taken on the road throughout the years.

“’Fat Man’ Steve Dann and Flanagan? What are THOSE two doing together?”

“Well, I DID see those two and a couple of others running through the hallways of the hotel a few days ago…”

“Oh, yeah…I saw that, too. I think Chet Marx was there, as well.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

“Anyway…it looks like we have a team of Steve Dann and Flanagan taking on the Angel CORPS!!!”

“And Angel gets things started here right away!”

In fact, the young Latina has taken everyone by surprise – not least the commentators – when, after silently mouthing “whoa” when faced with Steve Dann’s size, she nevertheless decides to vault over the top rope and catch the two men with a tope con hilo. As might have been expected, this barely fazes Dann, but Flanagan does go down from the force of the impact, scoring an early point for the Corps. As such, while Steve Dann enters the ring to engage Saul Morgan (prompting referee Gabrielle Harris to call for the bell) the oldest and youngest competitors on the roster are left to pull themselves up to their feet – an objective Angel unsurprisingly accomplishes much faster than the aged Flanagan. As such, the old Irisher is subjected to a couple of elbow drops, then a dropkick to the face, courtesy of the young Latina. Rather than follow up on this small spell of offence, however, Angel instead waits for Flanagan to get up, taunting and trash-talking the veteran all the while; then, once the Irishman is back on his feet and suitably riled up, she begins to run away from him, still taunting even as she legs it around the ring.

“Try ‘n’ catch me, ‘abuelo’!”

Despite seeing through this ruse, Flanagan is, nonetheless, compelled to follow, and begins to give chase as fast as his legs will allow – which, predictably, is nowhere near fast enough to keep up with someone one-third his age and with the agility of an alley cat. As such, the ensuing few moments are spent in nearly comical pursuit all around the ring, much to the delight of the crowd in attendance.

As this goes on on the outside, inside the ring, Saul Morgan is having difficulty dealing with Steve Dann’s girth. Time and again, the former Marine tries to apply one of the sundry submissions that service taught him, only for his reach to fall short, or Dann to easily power out. As such, while having no difficulty evading the lumbering Fat Man’s attempts at hurting him back, “The Tramp” is struggling to connect with any sort of impactful offence, short of a few strikes here and there.

“Saul Morgan was clearly not ready for an opponent the size of Steve Dann…and he’d better come up with a Plan B sharpish, or this might not end well for him.”

Indeed, his failure to wear Dann down is taking a toll on ‘The Tramp’, who is visibly starting to look tired as he bobs in and out of reach, connecting with a punch here and a calf kick there, looking for weak points in Dann’s impressive mass. The Fat Man himself, on the other hand, is seemingly maintaining, which, slowly but surely, is bringing the two men level in terms of overall stamina.

“Morgan better think of something fast…because Steve Dann is not getting tired…”

Indeed, things are beginning to look dire for “The Tramp” when a light suddenly appears at the end of the tunnel – or rather, at the top of the far turnbuckle. A whistle alerts Saul to the fact that Angel – having left Flanagan huffing and puffing – is ready to assist with anything necessary, an offer “The Tramp” gladly takes her up on; as such, one tag later, Steve Dann is being hit with a flying headbutt square to the face, which finally does send him reeling, leaving him poised for a Russian leg sweep from Saul, who then promptly rolls out of the ring, leaving his legal partner to continue the job of wearing the Fat Man down. And, seeing a large, husky man on his back in front of her, the young Latina is incapable of helping herself, leaping onto Dann’s belly and using it as a trampoline; then, once she has landed on the mat, she turns around and bounces onto it a second time, using it as a springboard as she leaps onto the ropes and connects with a slingshot moonsault.

“Smart strategy there from the Angel Corps, switching out to the smaller and faster wrestler – a type of fighter Dann traditionally struggles with…”

“Precisely, Lucas – and my girl Angel is having the time of her life right now!”

“She better not get too carried away, though…this IS still a match, not a playground…”

There is no telling Angel that, however, as – returning to her feet from the moonsault – she delightedly cries out “Man, I love bouncy castles!”, a remark which brings another chuckle from the crowd.

“The crowd are certainly enjoying themselves, as well, but I doubt Dann and Flanagan are finding things quite as amusing…”

Indeed, even as he continues to engage “The Tramp” in a brawl on the outside, the Irishman takes every possible opportunity to yell at his partner, to the effect that he should focus and get his head in the game so they can “beat these [BLEEP]s”, along with reminding him that his opponent is “just a [BLEEP]in’ kid!” Despite acknowledging these intimations, however, Dann continues to visibly struggle with Angel’s speed and stamina, as the Latina bounces all around the ring like a rogue pinball, achieving incredible elevation as she hits the “Fat Man” with a missile dropkick, then following it up with a dropkick, which takes him down, and finally a running cannonball senton, which – for how little effect it has – is nonetheless successful at further wearing down the much bigger Dann.

“Angel Ramirez is hitting her stride here, and Dann is really struggling now!”

Indeed, the larger wrestler is left scrambling for his bearings as the young Latina slides under his legs, then, in one swift motion, lands a dropkick to his back. Dann stumbles and Angel quickly profits with a leg sweep, which plants the “Fat Man” square on his face, to the delight of the crowd in attendance. Her mission accomplished, Angel takes a moment to soak in the warmth of the crowd, playing to them with an exaggerated strut and some of her trademark trash talk.

“Angel’s feeling cocky, but she had better watch out because that could backfire QUICKLY!!”

Lucas’ tone rises as Dann, who has recovered faster than his opponent expected, takes advantage of Angel’s momentary distraction and grabs her from behind, tossing her over with a simple but effective German suplex. He then follows this up with a running knee drop, further wearing Angel down, before bringing displaying unexpected agility and taking a page out of the Latina’s playbook, as he slingshots off the ropes with a huge splash! The fans gasp as 370 pounds of man come down on Angel’s 115-pound frame…

…then sigh with relief as she just about manages to roll out of the way!

“Angel avoids a fate worse than Death there…but can she turn the momentum back around?”

Initially, it seems so, as Angel runs in to smash Dann with a running kick straight to the face; as she rears back for another one, however, the “Fat Man” explodes upwards with an uppercut, which sends the Latina flying backward into the ropes; seizing his chance, Dann promptly runs in with a body avalanche, which literally bumps Angel out of the ring, then – with a mighty roar and a thumping of the chest – goes for a re-do of his slingshot splash, this time to the outside.


Allie cannot suppress a cry as Dann crashes onto Angel from up high…only to miss yet again, and connect with nothing but solid concrete as a result!

“Second time lucky for Angel, but you know what they say about the third time…”

As Allie, and the rest of the Las Vegas arena, hope against hope that Deltzer’s prediction will not come true, Angel finds herself accosted by Flanagan, who has had time to come over from his corner; before the Irishman can so much as connect with a single shot to his teenage quarry, however, he finds himself spun around and accosted with a series of punches by her partner, who seems perfectly content acting as the safety net for the youngster while she deals with the in-ring aspect. He is, however, not the only one with a safety net, as, surprisingly, Steve Dann also comes to his partner’s rescue, locking Saul in a reverse bear-hug, which leaves him defenseless and allows Flanagan to connect with a series of punches, which wear down the former Marine, making him woozy. The drunkard then urges his partner to “get back in ‘ere”, but before Flanagan can so much as turn away, he gets an airborne surprise in the form of a recovered Angel, which crashes down onto the two men for the second time in the match, this time with a suicide plancha!

“Angel and Saul really have each other’s backs, and it’s not as one-sided as you might think…”

As Allie Reece dispels a common misconception, the four contestants start over – Steve Dann more urgently than the others, since he runs the risk of getting counted out. Luckily, Angel’s attack has not so much felled him as sent him stumbling, and he is therefore able to roll under the apron before any of the other participants have done anything more than vaguely stir. As he waits for Angel to rejoin him, the “Fat Man” riles up the crowd, who give him a smattering of boos.

“I’ll tell you what – this pairing of Steve Dann and Flanagan may be unconventional, but it is working quite well here so far, even if they are having some difficulties stopping their younger and faster opponents.”

“I have to agree, actually, Mark…but it ain’t over until it’s over, and I have a feeling this is far from over!”

“Angel Ramirez, back in the ring now…and Steve Dann is still distracted…AND HERE’S THE ROLLUP!!”

Indeed, the Latina has just managed to catch her opponent by surprise, pulling him down into a pinning predicament, which Gabrielle Harris slides in to count!



“Kickout with authority by Steve Dann, but he’ll have learned to be more careful going forward…”

Indeed, as the two competitors restart, the “Fat Man”’s focus is fully back on the match, as he chases Angel to the turnbuckle. Feeling herself pursued, the youngster vaults over her opponent’s head with a backflip, landing behind Dann, and drops down into another rollup!


—Dann puts a foot on the ropes!

“Dann’s a big man, kiddo. You can’t do that THERE.”

As Mark comments on Angel’s tactic, the two competitors once again start over, with the Latina now dashing for the far turnbuckle. She shimmies up it, waits for Dann to dash towards her, then leaps off with a crossbody…

…which gets caught into a rack position…

…which gets evaded into another rollup!



—Dann kicks out!

“There goes your third-time theory, Mark…”

Feeling himself increasingly losing grasp of this match, Dann decides not to give his opponent any more openings; as such, Angel’s next attempt to fly is caught and countered into a pop-up Samoan drop, which draws a gasp from the crowd!

“WHAT IMPACT from Steve Dann, and here’s the first cover of the match for his team!”



TH—ere was a chance, but Angel just denied it!

“SOMEHOW Angel is still moving after that…but for how much longer?”

As Allie poses a very valid question, in the ring, Steve Dann picks up his quarry and throws her into his team’s corner, where he connects with another body guillotine, pinning her against the turnbuckle, before tagging in Flanagan, and signaling for him to position Angel for the Jagerbomb. Rather than delivering that, however, the Irishman watches on as Steve Dann leaps up and pulls Angel down into a cutter, the extra altitude helping the move hit even harder!

“Jagerbomb into a Bubba Cutter there from Dann, and that HAS to be it for Angel!!”

Despite having worked well for the combination move, however, the two men find themselves at loggerheads with regard to who should carry out the pin. Flanagan is the legal man, but Steve Dann takes a moment to argue that he should cover since he has “done all the work”. The Irishman vehemently disagrees, pointing to himself while shouting, red in the face, but before the disagreement can escalate, referee Gabrielle Harris steps in to tell Dann he has to leave the ring. This, in turn, forces “The Fat Man” to comply, allowing Flanagan to drop down for the pin, which Gabrielle stands by to count.



—Pin broken up by Saul Morgan!!!

“When you need a pin broken…Better Call—”

“DON’T say it, Mark!”


“…I hate you.”

As the two younger members of the announce team engage in some trademark banter, in the ring, Steve Dann attempts to blind-tag himself in, causing Flanagan to whip around and once again begin yelling in his face, while simultaneously tagging himself back in. Dann yells right back, and once again attempts to make a tag, leading Flanagan to reply in kind, which in turn prompts Dann to do it once again—

—only to find empty air where Flanagan should be, as he gets pulled down into a rollup! Gabrielle slides in to count!



—Kickout by Flanagan!

“The Fat Irishmen are starting to disintegrate, and this could be the chance Saul and Angel had been waiting for!”

“I wouldn’t use that name around them, if I were you, boy…”

As Flanagan and Angel start over, the Irish portion of the Fat Irishmen is glowering daggers at the Fat half, which causes him to lose focus long enough to be on the receiving end of a headbutt from Angel. Rather than be affected, however, Flanagan only headbutts her back, HARD, sending her stumbling back and leaving her in prime position for a clothesline, which takes her down. Flanagan then quickly connects with a delayed knee drop, then a second one, before bringing the youngster back up to her feet once more and effortlessly lifting her up into a vertical suplex. Angel, however, manages to wiggle out, once again causing a rollup predicament…

…which Flanagan reverses into one of his own!

“Angel in trouble now, and here’s the count!”



—Kickout by Angel!

“Still some fight left in my girl, but she is clearly not having the best time right now…”

Indeed, Angel appears at the mercy of the much larger Flanagan, who starts over after his roll-up with a swinging neckbreaker. He then immediately picks Angel up again and turns her upside down, leaving her in that position for a few moments before connecting with a delayed backbreaker.

“Big move there from Flanagan, and he can go for the cover here!”

Rather than attempt a pin, however, Flanagan simply brings the youngster back to a vertical position, then sets her up for his trademark powerbomb…

…only for Angel to evade with a headscissors!

“A glimmer of hope for Angel here!”

No sooner is she free from her opponent’s clutches than the youngster is headed for the turnbuckle, and literally leaping into action, shimmying to the top before launching off with a big crossbody; Flanagan, however, draws a gasp from the crowd as he plucks her off the air and connects with a devastating spinning spinebuster!


“…that’s it. RIP Angel Ramirez. We hardly knew you.”

As Lucas successfully censors himself and Deltzer gives Angel’s eulogy, Flanagan drops down for a cover, which Gabrielle counts.



TH—ere’s a kickout from Angel!!!!


“…for once, Mark, I don’t know.”

Now visibly frustrated, Flanagan wastes no time going for a re-do of the Jagerbomb…only for Angel to evade again, this time via a hurricanrana! Clearly reeling from the spinebuster, however, the teenager thinks it best to hand the match over to more capable hands, and staggers across the ring looking for a tag. Seeing this, the recovered Flanagan literally leaps into action, making a grab for Angel’s leg, the better to pull her back…

…but just a moment too late, as the tag is successfully made to Saul!

“If you’re having trouble with a big Irishman…Better Call–”

“—Mark, don’t you dare—”


“Did I tell you yet that I hate you?”

“Speaking of Better Call Saul—DODGED by Flanagan! But OOOF, BIG headbutt from Saul Morgan…and now Morgan going to town on Flanagan with strikes!”

Indeed, despite missing his trademark buzzsaw kick, “The Tramp” has managed to recover successfully, and has his opponent literally against the ropes, punishing him with a variety of wear-down body blows, which range from quick punches to stiff kicks to the calves. Then, when his opponent is sufficiently worn down, he grabs a side headlock to bring Flanagan out of the corner. A couple of elbows to the gut from the Irishman creates separation, but Saul immediately grabs a hammerlock, before transitioning into a full nelson hold. Flanagan powers out again – this time with an elbow to Saul’s face that hits so hard it echoes across the arena – and spins around, but Saul reacts quicker, connecting with two more headbutts, for good measure, before rocking Flanagan with a humongous uppercut, sending him reeling back and leaving him in prime position for…


“Well done, Mark. That was the ONLY time so far saying that was actually appropriate.”

The buzzsaw kick connects flush, taking the Irishman down, and Saul drops down for the cover


Steve Dann attempts to get into the ring…


…only for Angel to dash across the mat, leap into a headscissors takedown, and throw the “Fat Man” through the ropes and to the outside, ensuring her partner gets the…


…and the win for his team, in a match far more competitive than anyone could have anticipated.

“A surprisingly good team effort from Flanagan and Dann, but the Angel Corps stuck it out, and they go home with the W here tonight!”

“Dann and Flanagan can be proud, though…they gave Saul and Angel a challenge, and appear much improved from the last time we saw them.”

Despite the commentators’ praise, however, somebody appears less pleased with the duo’s performance; as Saul and Angel have their arms raised by referee Harris, the same woman seen punishing Joe Public two weeks prior once again emerges through the curtain, bringing a look of concern – if not horror – to the faces of Flanagan and Dann. Rather than run away, however, they opt to meet her halfway down the entranceway, launching into what appear to be frenzied explanations, perhaps even apologies; the woman, however, barely appears interested, and each of the two men soon finds themselves at the receiving end of a knee to the privates, which leaves them doubled over on the ramp as the woman walks off, just as coolly as she has walked in.

“It’s that woman again…she seems to have a fixation with kneeing talent in the family jewels. First Joe Public, and now these two…”

“She was the one giving them their workout the other day. I think she’s some kind of leader to them.”

“Yikes. I hope she never comes for me, then…”

As the announcers debate the motivations of the mysterious woman, Saul, and Angel walk past the recovering Dann and Flanagan on the ramp, the former wincing as he realizes what happened. It is not until a long moment after the fan favorites have disappeared through the curtain that the two men are able to follow suit, and the ringside area is soon cleared ahead of the next match – hopefully, one which will live up to the standard set by this bout…

LOGO b&w

Doritos Man stands in a vat that is familiar to anyone who was previously outraged by the alleged murder of someone who never died, like some bizarre Rumble subscribing Stew Peters aficionado.

For those who have not paid attention, repent. 

Doritos paces around the large metal vat, the floor of which is covered in nacho cheese flavored Doritos. 

A radio crackles into life. 

“Doritos. He has received the memo,” comes the rasp voice of TNT, “Erm, over?”

Doritos sighs. 

He had saved this fake-breasted woman from a fate worse than death; competing in an actual competitive wrestling match in front of thousands of ogling men. But why? Why did he bother?

He clicks the button on the side of the radio. 

“Received. Over and out.”

The radio crackles again. 

What now?

“Out where?”

“The word ‘out’ in this context means ‘this conversation is over’, Taylor. Over and out.”



A pause. A crackle. 

“Erm. Over.”

Doritos cycles his hand around, waiting for the penny to drop. It does not. He sighs and presses the button again. 

“And out? Over.”

“Sorry. Out and over.”

Doritos, exacerbated, decides to give up for another day.

Soon, his final plan will come to fruition. The Naked Man will arrive and he will immediately decimate him. The sooner, the better. He has a contract waiting for him, and money to be earned.

LOGO b&w



Back at the table, Allie Reece is shaking her head in a somewhat disappointed fashion, which The Mark doesn’t ignore. “Why don’t you get what is on your chest, off it?”

She looks taken aback. “Is that meant to be sexual innuendo, Mark?”

“No,” comes the deadpan response from Meltzer.

“Oh, anyway, I’m unhappy, not at my girl Valorie, but at the way, Alex Reyn has been able to seemingly corrupt her.  She wasn’t out here for the Angel Corps just moments ago, and I’ve got a suspicion that they won’t be here supporting her, either, meaning they’re no longer a team, and Reyn has got to her,” she says, putting her head down.

“What is this, an episode of Friends?” The Marks coldly bites back.

Lucas Quinn can barely conceal his chuckle in a bid to move on. “Well, there you have it.”

As “Break Da Internet” blares out, bringing Chett Marx out in the process, the masked man barely pays attention to anything in the audience, given his interest in reading and replying to Reddit users, gleefully trolling him throughout, Quinn does his job. “Guys, I don’t know about you, but if Chett Mark concentrated on his wrestling as much as berating fans on social media, he may go further, particularly against a distracted Valorie Vitality.”

The Keyboard Warrior tears himself away from his phone to spout off at some fans, scaling the stairs and half-heartedly posing as DJB reads out. “The following match is scheduled for one fall and “Verified” Chett Marx would just like to tell everyone that his height, weight, and hometown are strictly classified. “

VCM then whispers in Brown’s ear. “And, none of your goddamn business, either.” Downtown gets booed for that comment, though knows it’s not at him, but rather at Marx, who stands in the corner, staring at a section of fans, seemingly itching for an argument.

“Blow Me Away” by Breaking Benjamin

Valorie Vitality emerges to a good reception, though not quite as positive as usual, perhaps due to recent tension between her and Angel Corps.  She pays no mind to the capacity crowd, instead focusing her attention on Chett Marx, something not lost on Lucas Quinn. “Sometimes, matches are won and lost before the bell sounds, and I believe Valorie has already got this won.  Look at that laser-like focus, a complete contrast to Chett Marx.”

The Mark concurs. “I hear you, Lucas.  Valorie looks like there’s nowhere she’d rather be right now, whereas Chett would rather be off posting on his socials.”

Allie adds. “Plus, she is the owner of the quickest-ever victory in GLOBAL history, a staggering six seconds against Joe Public.  Maybe she’ll break it tonight.”

“I don’t think so. Chett has got enough about him to avoid that unwanted distinction,” Deltzer disagrees.

Right on cue, the bell sounds.  Suddenly, a camera pans to one Alex Reyn in the corner, and many observers are taken aback by The East Wind joining them in the front row, so close to the action.  He takes a seat, folds his arms, and glares right at Valorie, who cannot miss his unmistakable presence.  In fact, ten seconds elapse before the bell sounds for a second time, reminding Vitality and Marx this one is underway, and perhaps, potentially, sparing Chett’s blushes.

Instead, Marx strikes first with a knee to the breadbasket and hammers VV with a double axe handle to the back of the neck.

“Alex’s appearance has already swung things in Marx’s favor, and perhaps, this could be a banana peel for Valorie, after all,” Quinn predicts.

The Mark nods. “He does have that effect on people,” as the camera again goes to Reyn, an eager and observant viewer for Domination 14’s fourth outing.

Marx slams Vitality, though a switch is flipped as Chett misses with a follow-up elbow, Valorie still recoils, looking somewhat tentative.

“Valorie is definitely distracted,” Reece reckons.

In fact, Marx doesn’t look to engage Vitality and instead stands in the corner, beckoning her to come in.  When she seems hesitant, Marx plonks himself up on the top rope.

“A little bit of gamesmanship AND showmanship by “Verified” Chett Marx, unusual behavior in terms of what we’ve seen here in GLOBAL,” Quinn comments.

“I don’t blame you for watching your wording there, Lucas, I’ve heard rumors he and Tom Cruise go to the same church, if you know what I mean,” Deltzer claims.

“No, I don’t,” deflects Quinn.

Vitality nods, and when she comes over, Marx suddenly drops down and throws a roundhouse kick that VV evades with ease.  She bullishly smiles.

“That’s more like it by Vitality,” The Mark muses.

A tie-up is finally negotiated, well, until Marx kicks away at Valorie’s legs a couple of times.  He wishes he hadn’t when she fires back with two of her own, albeit upstairs, and he scarpers to the corner.

“You’re right – for once,” Allie states sarcastically.  Meanwhile, a shot of Reyn in the front row from our admiring camera crew gives the three-pronged team an opportunity to talk about Alex once again. “I wonder what he makes of this,” Reece ponders.

“You really don’t want to know what’s going on in his head, Allie, trust me,” The Mark deduces.

“You’re right – oddly,” Allie admits.

Meanwhile, Vitality looks right at the unflinching Reyn. Marx takes advantage of the situation with a shortcut, a kick to the abdomen, and fires away with three unanswered right hands, Valorie absorbing them rather easily.  Vitality is now backed up against the ropes.  Chett, eager to take the lead in a career-changing contest for him, whips Valorie to the east side of the squared circle, successfully, only to miss the subsequent and overzealous missile dropkick as Valorie merely holds onto the opposite ropes, showing great awareness and presence of mind, despite her 200-pound distraction, merely meters away.

“She’s a ring general for someone so inexperienced,” Allie admiringly opines.

Calmness makes way for chaos when Vitality mounts Marx and wails away with a flurry of punches, impossible to count, and she narrowly avoids disqualification, Gabi Harris reaching five, but Valorie just about peeling herself off Chett in the nick of time.

“Wow,” The Mark breathlessly blurts out.

“That’s because of HIM,” Allie believes, pointing to The East Wind.

Vitality affords herself a half-glance at Alex while Harris checks on poor Marx.

Not for long.  Vitality scoops him up off the canvas, now seemingly playing with her food, and her Irish whip to the left sees Chett boomerang back towards her grateful big boot, Chett sticking to the sole of Val’s left leg like chewing gum to a school desk.

She tosses Chett to the nearest corner, top left, and lets him have it with the same foot, punishing VCM with a corner choke, which once again, dangerously hovers close to five, and just about breaking in time.  Talk about bending the rules.

Vitality takes a step back, measuring the hapless Marx, who is overmatched after a bright  – yet very brief – beginning to the bout.

“Valorie looks poised and ready to strike,” Lucas beams.

Lo and behold, she uncorks a fantastic double roundhouse kick, scrambling Chett’s senses.  Valorie then showcases her agility and ruthlessness at the same time with a scorpion kick and adds two tablespoons of insult and injury with a beautifully-timed and well-placed spinning back kick to complete…

“Sweet Chin Remix,” The Mark calls out.

Valorie stares at the diagonally opposite Reyn, but she gets down on the mat and looks him dead in the eye.  She isn’t finished and wants to make a statement, or The Mark has another theory.

“I can’t tell if Valorie is trying to intimidate – or IMPRESS – Reyn right now,” The Mark contemplates aloud.

“Don’t say that,” Allie laments.


The Camel Clutch STF submission is locked on, but Marx’s lights are well and truly out, no one home for a few seconds now, and Harris takes one look at him before rapidly raising his hand once, twice, and going to the highest bidder…


Ding, ding, ding!

“That’s it, and that was easy, but Valorie Vitality refuses to release the hold,” Quinn says, more shocked than ever, despite Vitality testing Harris at every turn throughout the ‘contest.’

“I am so, so disappointed at Valorie’s attitude,” Allie says dejectedly.

Ding, ding, ding.

This time, the bell hasn’t sounded to mark Valorie’s straightforward victory over “Verified” Chett Marx, but rather as a warning signal to relinquish the hold.  Reyn stands up, characteristically smirking, and as he vacates his seat, Valorie, whose gaze has never left Reyn, Alex’s exit, and Vitality’s reluctance to let go of Last Hoorah brings out Angel Corps.

“Finally,” Allie applauds.  No sooner have Angel and Saul arrived when Valorie lets go of the hold, perhaps from a passing remark from Ms. Harris, who may have threatened to disqualify Vitality and overturn her decision.

In the end, Valorie retains her win and rather than listening to the pleas from Ramirez and Morgan, BRUSHES past them with a palm of the hand and wanders out the squared circle, and up the ramp, a menacing grin etched all over her face and the rare sound of accompanying boos upon hearing Jason Brown read the official decision, which was in danger of going the other way.

“I never thought I’d hear that at the end of a Valorie Vitality match,” Lucas admits.

“Me neither,” The Mark affirms.

“Why was Reyn out here?  What has happened to Valorie?  Angel and Saul are looking at each other, perplexed, and it looks like they’re going to run after her backstage, I’d love to see what that looks like,” Reece comments, starting off saddened and then actually excited at the prospect of an Angel Corps shouting match, which may be more competitive than what poor Chett Marx could muster.

Anyway, Angel Corps are cheered for making their second appearance in mere minutes, though this one leaves them with a lot of unanswered questions, ones they may be looking for momentarily.

“I don’t know what has got into Valorie Vitality,” Reece complains.

“Alex Reyn, like you said, and no innuendo, Allie,” The Mark holds his hands up, realizing the connotations.

“Where does this leave Valorie, Angel, and Saul?  Alex Reyn has done a number on them all, especially Valorie,” Reece laments, ignoring Deltzer altogether and sounding heartbroken.







LOGO b&w


Backstage, Trouble Roxx and cousins Todd and Declan Rich are caught by a roving cameraman leaving the medical room, having seemingly been given the all-clear. As they walk along the corridor leading to the arena’s exit, their conversation is audible even without a mic.

“Man, that was L A M E! We were really hype for this match!”

“What she said. We DEFINITELY should do this again…WITHOUT anybody interfering this time. In fact…why don’t you two boys come get some at Glory in two weeks? Round 2, Tag Team Boogaloo?”

No sooner have Todd and Declan enthusiastically accepted Teagan Trouble’s generous offer than the foursome are intercepted in their path by a particularly unwelcome pair.

“See…it’s always like that, man!”

Trae Larkin shoots his partner a sarcastic look.

“You want a shot at these two, you don’t have to be the best natural athlete in the GLOBAL roster…but you sure better be their friend!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Surprisingly, it is Izzy who bristles at this comment and steps forward to face Larkin.

“Oh, nothing, shorty…just that we’ve BEEN waiting in line…watching you offer all your little friends shots…while COMPLETELY ignoring the actual-athlete-shaped elephants in the room.” Larkin points at himself and his partner, who speaks up for the first time.

“And we know why that is…right, Trae?”

“Damn straight. It’s ’cause these so-called “fighting champions” are scared of getting in the ring with real athletes. They’re scared of getting in the ring with someone who they know is probably gonna take their—”

“DUDE!” It is Teagan Trouble’s turn to bristle. “What rock did you get out from under? We’ve been doing open challenges every show for THREE MONTHS, my guy! And we never saw YOU there answering ANY of them…did we, Iz?”

Izzy shakes her head, but Trae Larkin promptly ends that line of reasoning.

“While those golden titles would look nice around our waist.  We have had a Rich problem we have had to deal with.   But you are in luck; we are here to make the tag division and those titles Prime Time.”  Larkin mimics, pinning each word to the empty air before him. 

“That means we are here to save things, could you even imagine a boring match with you two and the Rich boys?” Both members of the Prime Time Athletes smirk, turning their attention to the two Rich Family members beside the girls.  “Don’t worry; we haven’t forgotten about you, either.   We will make good on our promise.”

With that, and without giving either Rich or Roxx a chance to retort, the two Prime Time Athletes exit stage left, leaving the four fan-favorites to huff and roll their eyes for a moment before proceeding to the exit.

LOGO b&w


Valorie sighs with a bit of a wild grin as she makes her way from the curtains leading to the ring back to the locker room. As she does though, Angel and Saul come running up from behind, still heavily worn from their match earlier but showing quite a lot of concern for their teammate.

“Hermana!! What in the actual fuck did you do?!” Angel shouts. 

Valorie turns to look at her, staying silent for a moment before simply answering, “I won the match. The right way… The stronger, better way”

Saul and Angel look at each other with quite a bit of disbelief before Saul reaches out to her with a bit of a small smile. That smile quickly disappears though as Valorie just turns from them and keeps walking. Saul calls out for her, the two continuing to call and chase her down before she snaps at them.

“Get off my damn back! I don’t need you guys babyin’ me. I won the match, the way I should have won the other matches I’ve had.”

Angel can feel something in her snap, though she is able to keep her composure by some odd miracle, as she looks at her close friend with a bit of hurt. Saul also has a pained look on his face as he shakes his head slowly. 

“That’s not how you wrestle Val… that’s not how WE wrestle,” he starts, only to be promptly cut off by Valorie.

“And how do YOU know how I wrestle, Saul? How do YOU know what’s best for me? Why do you and Angel keep treating me like I don’t know what I’m doin’?! For once… I didn’t have to rely on anyone for help… I was able to do it alone… ALONE. I haven’t had such a damn rush like this since I first even joined GLOBAL…”

Saul and Angel stare in pure shock at what they are hearing. They exchange a look of disbelief with each other before Angel steps up.

“Listen hermana. I dunno what the hell is going on, but this ain’t you! We’re your friends, Val! We just wanna look out for you, Mamacita!!” She explains in her usual loud tone. 

“And there you have it. ” A voice suddenly chimes in from behind. 

The duo turn back, Angel now being held back by the collar via Saul just in case, as Alex Reyn approaches, a very subtle grin on his face.

“What are you talking about, Reyn?” Saul growls.

“‘Look out for her’ you say? ‘This isn’t her’ you say?” He says, walking past them and now standing between them and Valorie. “Listen to their words, Valorie. This is how they see you. As an invalid to be cared for, ‘looked after’ a slave that they can define how they wish. Apparently, you don’t get to define what you are. That’s for them to decide.”

Valorie is staying silent as Reyn addresses her, but it’s clear that she is hearing and agreeing with him, which surprises and alarms Saul

“And who says we’re doing all that?!” Angel shouts, Saul’s grip on her shirt tightening just in case.

“Who was the one who threw in the towel during the last match?” He simply retorts, glancing at the two of them from the corner of his eye.

They both fall silent, especially Saul, as they remember how he acted on instinct to protect her. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he glares back up at him.

“I wasn’t holding her back, Reyn. I was looking out for my teammate, my FRIEND. I didn’t want her to suffer more pain than she was already taking!” Saul snarls, now starting to lose a hint of composure. 

“You see, Valorie?” Reyn asks, turning his attention to the woman who is clearly getting more and more irritated, “The two of them threw in the towel to protect you. They thought you couldn’t handle it. Isn’t that, as you call it, ‘BABYING’ you?”

Valorie is glaring daggers at the two at this point, crossing her arms as she answers, “That’s exactly what it is…”

“OI PUTA!!! You better cut that shit out!! You’re putting all this caca in Valorie’s head to get her to be like you! You won’t succeed! She’s better off with us than you ANY day!!” Angel shouts, Saul covering her mouth to muffle her long string of swear words that were just about to surface.

Reyn turns to look at them with a bit of amusement, even giving a subtle smirk.

“Is that so…? Then how about you prove it at the Pay Per View… you and your friend… against myself AND Valorie. We’ll see who’s teachings and words are really what’s best for her.”

Reyn turns to Valorie, seeing her nod in acceptance to the challenge and temporary partnership, before looking back at Saul and Angel. They seem baffled for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. A bit of a long pause lingers before Saul nods as well.

“We accept the challenge. We’re going to stop your corruption of our friend by any means necessary.” He answers.

“Corruption…? I wouldn’t say that. I personally think… ‘Motivation’ fits better.” He responds before he leaves the three of them.

Angel and Saul just stare as Valorie looks back at Reyn before she looks back at her now former teammates. With an alarmingly empty gaze, she just turns her back on them and walks away.

LOGO b&w



A bucket of water flies across the abandoned warehouse, the current home of Jerry David.

He jerks himself awake, gasping for air as the cold water drips from his hair and face, running down his chest and torso, settling into the thrones material.

Jerry is still wearing his ring gear. He is thin and weak, his skin baggy and pale. He can barely lift his head.  His nipple is inexplicably bleeding.

“Was that a dream?” he thinks to himself.

He has lost all grip on what is and isn’t real anymore. The weeks of darkness and isolation have been long and cruel.

The bucket drops to the floor and The Jester steps over it, standing just inches from the toes of Jerry.

“Jerry, Jerry, Jerry… Are you TRULY willing to DIE rather than join me?”

The Jester begins to pace around the throne.

“Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived… Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived… Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived…

“Which will it be, Jerry? Do we part ways, taking our divorce?”

The Jester rubs his chin.

“No. That will not do…  Beheaded?”

The Jester stops for a moment in front of Jerry, and the two men’s eyes meet.

“It is a possibility.  I have a… ‘friend’, let’s call him, who I can call on for that kind of thing. But it is not-cho’ decision, let us say.”

He continues to pace.

“Died? Would you rather, Jerry, sit here and STARVE to DEATH than join me? Or would you rather the final option… SURVIVED? 

“Join me, Jerry. Join me and you will not only SURVIVE but THRIVE. We can take this Globe by FORCE. We can rule the new world together, as one cohesive unit. What say you?”

Jerry’s eyes move from looking at the ground to looking The Jester in the eyes for a second time. Then he looks back at the floor.

“Then thou art destined to DIE here. You have two weeks to live.”


LOGO b&w


“We’ve finally reached tonight’s main event,” Lucas Quinn tells the audience, “and it’s a BIG one because this is a rematch from the very first match from GLOBAL Wrestling’s very first pay-per-view special, Magnum Opus! After two shows worth of attacks on one another, “Big Aug” August Lazar accepts the challenge for this singles match laid out by Aleczander The Great!”

“Big Aug returned suddenly on Domination 12 after his leave of absence and went right after Aleczander The Great!” Allie Reece adds. “During Lazar’s match with Best of British member Rupert Royston-Fellowes, Aleczander launched a vicious assault on Big Aug… but where do the Best of British stand?”

“Good question,” Mark Deltzer replies. “Best of British confronted Aleczander when he returned on Domination 12 as well. Things seem to be just a little rocky, but I’m sure those crazy Brits will work it out and pick up where they left off… trying to rule GLOBAL.”

“Mmmm, will they, though?” Allie snips. 

“Well, we’ll have to see. Before we get to Glory… it’s “Big Aug” August Lazar and GLOBAL’s self-professed Hall of Famer Aleczander The Great! And that match… is up next!”

I go by the name of Dame Jones
I’m with my crew
And we gon’ show y’all what we be snacking on
Ya dig

“Hot Cheetos and Takis” by Da Rich Kidzz. 

TOWERING through the entrance, the dirty-blonde monster with hair tied back in a bun, wearing a red and black sleeveless bodysuit walks out and raises a finger in the air! He looks out to the cheering crowd with a box in hand. Just like his prior appearances, August Lazar’s best friend and manager, Del Waterstone, records the entrance on his phone while wearing the first bit of August’s GLOBAL merchandise, a red “Chow Time” apron with a pair of cartoon teeth around the logo while Big Aug has Big Aug’s Snack Box! 


August Lazar passes out various snacks and throws them out into the audience for people to grab (pre-packaged, of course, we aren’t germ-loving savages here). 

“Let ‘em know, Augie, let ‘em know!” Del shouts behind him as he’s filming on his phone. “Tonight, that golden dickhead’s getting a stomping!”

The GLOBAL Nation gives August Lazar a nice ovation as he raises a hand to either side of the stage and encourages the crowd to make some noise! Big Aug finally arrives at the ring, he reaches up and grabs the ropes. He pulls himself up onto the ring apron and then steps over the ropes to enter the ring. Once inside, Mr. Spice Guy gets ready as Jason Brown gives him his specialized intro while the Las Vegas crowd gives him some extra love, performing for them in other promotions! 

“Introducing first… from Clearwater, Florida, by way of Romania… accompanied by manager, Del Waterstone… he stands SEVEN-FOOT FOUR and weighs in at THREE-HUNDRED EIGHTY pounds… 

Big Aug holds a finger up for every nickname given…

“He is Everyone’s Zest Friend… Boss of the Sauce… Mr. Spice Guy… One Giant Tasty Snack… The Man with an Appetite For Life… The Man With The Iron Stomach… and The Largest Athlete in The GLOBE…”

Brown takes an exaggerated breath as Big Aug poses in the ring. 


Wrestling’s Largest Foodie raises his hands in the air to cheers from the crowd! Del takes off the “Chow Time” apron and then gives it over to a young kid in attendance to take home! The game face of Big Aug remains as he gets ready to get his hands on the man behind the assault that cost him the Number One Contendership to the GLOBAL Championship many months ago. 

“The following singles match is set for one fall! Introducing first…”

“Hall of Fame” by The Script feat. 


The arena lights go gold and bathe the arena in the shimmering color. Golden trunks, knee pads, boots, headbands, chains, sunglasses, the whole shebang. On either arm, he has the familiar Gilded Girls with him, handing him golden flowers and his signature Hall of Fame plaque!

“…from Manchester, England and residing in Hollywood, California… weighing in at 264 pounds… he is the self-proclaimed GLOBAL Hall of Famer… He is The Gilded Great… he… is… ALECZANDER THE GREAT!”

The jeers fill the arena as The Gilded Great approaches the ring and watches as a big and angry Big Aug wants to settle the score with Aleczander The Great tonight! Aleczander shouts at referee Shane Staggs to make him get back! He finally does so and Lazar relents. The Boss of the Sauce backs up and Aleczander climbs into the ring. Once he’s there, he hands off his flowers and plaque…



Aleczander jumps right at Big Aug with a big running forearm smash that catches The Boss of the Sauce off-guard!

“I’m winning tonight, you giant wanker!” Aleczander screams. 

He charges off the ropes a second time and then CLOBBERS the former NBA player with a big flying back elbow that sends him staggering into the ropes a second time! The Gilded Great realizes he’s making progress on chopping the big man down! 

The GLOBAL Hall of Famer runs off the ropes a third time… but Big Aug is there! He runs for a clothesline… 


Then The Gilded Great comes back with a big flying shoulder tackle! Big Aug is stunned in the corner when Aleczander scurries to his feet and looks bound and determined to make the win!

“Get your big arse up!” Aleczander shouts again. 

He charges at the corner with a big move in mind… 

…But Big Aug strikes first with a HUGE big boot that knocks Aleczander clean off his feet in one shot! 


After a fast start from Aleczander The Great, Everyone’s Zest Friend takes over and holds his hands out for the crowd. 

“CHOW DOWN AND THROW DOWN!” Big Aug shouts. 

Aleczander is in the corner and when Lazar gets there, he pins him with a big forearm… 


A MASSIVE chop hits Aleczander across the chest! He hobbles around the ring and tries to escape, but The Boss of the Sauce sees him in the corner. He charges full speed ahead and CRUSHES Aleczander in the corner with a huge running back elbow smash! Aleczander staggers out as Big Aug spits into his hand and rubs his hands together… not very hygienic… but…


Another big open-handed chop is felt through Aleczander’s whole body and the big man crumbles to a knee in the middle of the ring! 

“ONE MORE TIME!” Big Aug shouts. 

“No, no more times!” Aleczander yells out. 

But The GLOBAL Nation wants it! They want to see another one… 

…But get denied when Aleczander just BARELY manages to slip out of the corner! He charges and hits a big European uppercut on the 7’4” giant! Aleczander looks up and then scores with another one! He cocks back and hits a third one in the corner! Everyone’s Zest Friend gets his jaw jacked by the jaw-jacking biceps of the GLOBAL Hall of Famer, who backs up a few steps. He charges and hits a running shoulder thrust into the rib cage of Big Aug!

“Come on, Augie, fight back!” Del shouts. 

Aleczander screams at Big Aug’s best friend to shut up and then goes back to trying another shoulder… but Big Aug gets his knee up first! 


More noise fills the arena as the Las Vegas fanbase go crazy when Big Aug whips Aleczander to another corner. He charges in and FLATTENS him with a big corner splash this time around! He staggers out and right into the waiting grip of Big Aug when he applies an inverted facelock. The Boss of the Sauce looks out to the crowd…


A NASTY Clubbing Forearm aimed right at the chest of the GLOBAL Hall of Famer puts him down in the center of the ring! Big Aug goes for the cover!




Before Big Aug can curse his luck, The GLOBAL Hall of Famer rolls away… and slips out to the floor, getting jeered as he does so! 

Big Aug gets loud cheers from The GLOBAL Nation as he steps over the ropes and follows him out to the floor! The Boss of the Sauce goes to pick up Aleczander who tries to get away, only to get palmed by the back of the head! 

“Who wants a free shot?!” Big Aug shouts. 

“No! No!” Aleczander yells back. 

He holds him out for a tall male fan to swing his hands back and chop Aleczander! The Burly Brit gets spun around… 


A third chop by Aleczander has him hobbling around! Lazar slowly rolls under the bottom rope and then back outside in order to restart the official’s ten-count to punish Alecz some more. 

“No! No! Get that giant twat away from me! I’m too important to die!” Aleczander shouts. 

But Big Aug snatches him by his golden locks! Aleczander frantically backs up before being thrown against the ring post. He swings…


…But Aleczander moves and Big Aug chops nothing but the ring post! He hurts his hand! Now Aleczander has a chance to fight back! 


When Lazar is stunned, Big Aug gets shoved into the same ring post, head first! Big Aug is stumbling around the ropes and he tries to get back into the ring to avoid being counted out, but now Aleczander has a chance to strike back. The Gilded Great starts to climb up to the apron and then makes the rare chance to go up top. Once he’s up there and Big Aug is trying to get back up…


The GLOBAL Hall of Famer scores with his biggest move yet of the match and takes down Big Aug with the modified Axe Bomber by flying off the top! The Boss of the Sauce is down on his back when Aleczander hops over and tries to cover. 




Big Aug launches Aleczander off of him and The GLOBAL Hall of Famer looks stunned when he doesn’t get the duke off of the top rope Golden Touch. He looks to Staggs and curses his very existence with a look, and then applies a tight top wristlock-type hold while Lazar is down! 

“Let’s see you get up from the best arms in GLOBAL, you big arsehole!” Aleczander yells into his ear. 

Lazar’s response?

He starts to get up! 

Aleczander’s eyes bulge wide in a panic when Big Aug is fighting up quickly! Aleczander tries to crank back on the hold to control his massive opponent by switching around to the front and then pulling Big Aug’s arm over his own shoulder with an arm wringer. Lazar flinches and Aleczander realizes he’s finally got a good point of attack to hone in on the big man. 

“Got your arm, you tosser!” 

He snaps the arm a second time over his shoulder and Big Aug flinches again. Big Aug tries to apply a hammerlock on the big man, but Lazar is too powerful and he throws a back elbow into the face of Aleczander. Once is enough to stun him and twice is enough to finally free himself. Big Aug finally gets his arm free and tries to shake the pain out. When he sees Aleczander where he wants him, he charges at the corner again… 

But an empty corner leads to Big Aug hitting nothing but his arm against the corner! 

Aleczander charges in and rocks the big man with a running European uppercut before grabbing the arm and then wrapping it around the top rope before starting to PULL on it, working over the bad arm of Augie! Del Waterstone looks worried for his friend’s well-being as the arm is being worked over. The Gilded Great continues to yank on the arm until the official warns him. 

“Break it off now!” Staggs shouts. “One… two… three… four…”

Just before the count of five, Aleczander finally relinquishes the hold on Big Aug before pulling his arm. He looks out to the crowd and then DROPS to the mat, taking the former NBA player with him using a mammoth single-arm DDT! Everyone’s Zest Friend shouts out as pain goes shooting up his left arm. Aleczander gets to his feet and then waits as Big Aug tries to stand before he delivers a kick to the face that keeps him down. 

Big Aug tries again, only to get swatted down with another kick. A third time is also not the charm. No matter how much fight he has in him at the moment, Aleczander has him down! He looks out to the GLOBAL Nation and then slides off one of his golden elbow pads before throwing it… okay, tucking it in his own tights because he’s not giving merch away for free…


He delivers the driving elbow drop onto the arm of Big Aug! Lazar shouts out again as Aleczander goes for a pin by trying to press all his weight on the big man’s compromised limb. 




There isn’t as much force on the kick-out as there was moments ago, but Lazar isn’t giving up. Aleczander applies a cross armbar and seems to be showing off some fairly decent technical prowess underneath his cocky, flamboyant, and douchebaggery exterior tonight. The GLOBAL Nation is firmly behind August as the massive Romanian-American is trying to fight his way out of the hold by keeping his arms balled up together.

“BIG AUG!” clap-clap. “BIG AUG!” clap-clap. “BIG AUG!” clap-clap. “BIG AUG!” clap-clap. 

The chant seems to fire up Big Aug as he tries to turn over. Aleczander tries to kick him away with his feet… but Lazar manages to HOIST ALECZANDER UP! The GLOBAL Nation is FLOORED when he picks him up and hits him with a release powerbomb on the canvas to finally free himself! 

“BIG AUG!” clap-clap. “BIG AUG!” clap-clap. “BIG AUG!” clap-clap. 

Big Aug finally has a chance to fight back now against the arrogant Hall of Famer, but the arm starts to slow him down. The Boss of the Sauce looks out among the rowdy GLOBAL Nation before he starts to get up. Aleczander tries to do the same, but he gets knocked down by a big clothesline! 

The GLOBAL Hall of Famer tries to stagger back to his feet, but gets rocked from the other side with a second clothesline! Aleczander is knocked flat on his back but gets pulled up to his feet by The Man with the Iron Stomach. After grabbing the back of his head, he slams Aleczander’s head against his knee, stumbling Aleczander backward! 

He’s hurt when Big Aug scoops him up (with his good arm) onto his shoulder, then drops Aleczander with a big snake eyes! With a burst of speed that works for the big man, the former NBA player charges off the ropes… 


The snake eyes-big boot combination hits to perfection, then Big Aug kneels down for a cover on his long-time adversary. 




Just before the count of three, Aleczander uses his power and kicks out of the pinning attempt! Del is filming the match outside on his phone and is shouting for Aug to get him while he can. Big Aug calls out to The GLOBAL Nation and asks if they want to see Aleczander go for the ride, which is met with universal praise from them! 

Aleczander pleads, but Big Aug goozles him from the mat and pulls him up to his feet! He points up… 


The GLOBAL Nation is SHOCKED when Big Aug’s chokeslam attempt gets countered at the apex into a massive DDT from The Gilded Great! Big Aug’s head goes right into the canvas, leaving Aleczander with a desperate attempt to finish things. He slowly limps to his feet, then runs off the ropes once behind August… then back… 


After speeding off both sets of ropes, the granite-like bicep of Aleczander The Great WAFFLES Big Aug as he’s on his knees and takes him to the mat! Aleczander goes for a cover!




Nobody can believe it and Aleczander is losing his mind! He SCREAMS bloody murder at Staggs and damn near punches a hole in the mat! 

“I HAD HIM! I PINNED HIM! I BEAT HIM!” Aleczander howls. 

The desperate GLOBAL Hall of Famer gets up and then positions himself in the corner, screaming at Big Aug to get up. He’s defeated Big Aug with the very move he’s attempting to do now and he’s ready to slay The World’s Largest Foodie with the mammoth Hall of Fame Induction spear! Del is warning Big Aug outside the ring to watch himself as he tries to get vertical once again. Licking his chops, Aleczander pounces… 


The crowd “OOOHS!” when Big Aug gets a foot up and CRACKS Aleczander first with a sloppy, but effective roundhouse kick first! The Gilded Great gets knocked back to the mat and has no idea where he is when he picks up Aleczander by the side… 


The GLOBAL Nation goes CRAZY when he connects with the back suplex into the chokeslam! He hooks the leg of Aleczander using his good arm and goes right for the pin! 





Big Aug has finally done it and scored the clean pinfall over Aleczander The Great! Sore arm and all, he gets to his knees! 

“Here is your winner of the match…”


But Jason Brown’s call is never made. 

Why you ask?

Oh, the members of Best of British BOTH attacking Big Aug! 

“What…? What is the meaning of this?!” Lucas Quinn asks.

“Best of British picking their spot!” Mark Deltzer shouts. “They waited for Big Aug to expend all his energy in this match and jumped him when the time was right!”

“What’s going on?” Allie shouts. “Are they here to help Aleczander? Is this payback for two weeks ago? What’s going on?!”

After all the energy spent by both men as Deltzer pointed out, Big Aug tries to fight, but isn’t able to offer much resistance when Nigel Kensington III SLAMS a running knee right between the shoulder blades of Big Aug! He’s down when both men nod to one another. The Boss of the Sauce tries to still stand…


The double-jumping curb stomp by both men puts Big Aug on the mat! 


The timekeeper frantically rings the bell as both Rupert Royston-Fellowes and Nigel Kensington III are both putting the boots to Big Aug! Del Waterstone tries to stop them, but Rupert cuts him off at the pass first when he sees him coming, planting a boot in his chest to send him back out to the floor! 

Aleczander is still hurt but manages to see both men and gives them a thumbs up from the mat.

“That’s… that’s right!” Aleczander calls to them. “Get… Get that BLEGH!”

That’s cut off when Rupert and Nigel both put the boots to Aleczander The Great as well! The GLOBAL Nation looks shocked by this development. 

“WHAT!?” Lucas Quinn shouts on commentary, surprised. “THEY’RE ATTACKING ALECZANDER, TOO?!”

The Best of British continue to stomp away at Aleczander The Great and then treat the GLOBAL Hall of Famer more like a Hall of Fame doormat as they stomp the proverbial hole and walk it dry. They have him down… 


The double curb stomp puts him down as well! With both men out, Rupert Royston-Fellowes finally wants a microphone and gets one. 

“YOU…” he points at Big Aug. “…have been NOTHING but a thorn in our sides!” Then he turns to Aleczander. “And YOU… have been doing NOTHING but selling us LIES ever since you walked in the doors of GLOBAL Wrestling!”

He looks to Nigel and the two nod in agreement at something. 

“You both started this… and we are going to finish it!” Rupert shouts. “At Glory…Let us end this once and for all! Best of British… versus August Lazar… and Aleczander The Great!”

“WHAT?!” Mark Deltzer looks shocked. “They want… THESE TWO? Who can’t even STAND each other? The guys who just went to war? That’s… that’s BRILLIANT!”

The Best of British both drop the proverbial (and literal) mic and get jeered out of the building as they depart the ring. 

“The Best of British has been dealing with August Lazar since his return for their part in cheating him out of the #1 Contendership back at Magnum Opus…: Allie shouts. “But now, they’ve chosen themselves and also turned their back on Aleczander The Great, too!”

“Will Big Aug and Aleczander even ACCEPT that challenge?” Lucas Quinn wonders aloud. “We’ll try and get an answer to that question as soon as we can, but we’re out of time! GLOBAL fans, be sure to order Glory if you haven’t already!  In case you haven’t, perhaps the official contract signing between Sean Darring and Daniel Dream will convince you otherwise.  Don’t go anywhere.  That’s next!”

The final shots are The Best of British posing on top of the ramp while Big Aug and Aleczander have both been laid out in the middle of the ring after beating the tar out of one another. The tag team is looking to make a name for themselves and after tonight, The Best of British have done just that! 

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Lucas Quinn interjects, his voice commanding the attention of the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, what a night it has been! A night filled with unforgettable moments and jaw-dropping action. But before we conclude this epic chapter and set our sights on the glorious future that awaits, there is one final piece of the puzzle that demands an answer. The anticipation is building, and our eyes are locked on the center of that ring, where the GLOBAL Contract signing is about to unfold!”

The Mark chimes in, a hint of concern in his voice, “Indeed, Lucas. All eyes are fixated on the number one contender, Daniel Dream. Benedict Beel Zebub has been a master manipulator, toying with the minds of everyone involved. The atmosphere is thick with uncertainty, and no one seems to know what lies ahead, especially our champion, Sean Darring. In that moment, confusion becomes a weapon, and if Zebub gets his way, chaos will reign tonight.”

Allie adds her insight, “The mind games orchestrated by Benedict Beel Zebub have left a cloud of mystery hanging over this event. But let’s not forget, Sean Darring is no stranger to mind games and psychological warfare. He has faced countless challenges and has seen it all in his illustrious career. If there’s one thing he has earned, it’s the title of being a master strategist and a general in the ring.”

As the audience listens intently, the ring crew swiftly prepares the stage for the contract signing. The table awaits, adorned with the prestigious GLOBAL Championship belt, serving as a symbol of the high stakes at play.

Lucas Quinn continues, “It’s a moment of profound significance as we witness the joining of destinies, and it’s about to unfold before our very eyes. The contract signing that will determine the future of our championship! Both competitors, Daniel Dream and Sean Darring understand the gravity of this moment.”

The Mark emphasizes, “It’s a clash of the titans, a collision of ambitions, and the world is watching with bated breath.”

Allie concurs, “Every pen stroke, every signature, and every word spoken will shape the path that leads to GLORY! But with Benedict Beel Zebub pulling the strings, the road ahead remains shrouded in uncertainty.”

As the tension builds, the spotlight shines on the entrance ramp. Benedict Beel Zebub emerges, donning his enigmatic presence, and makes his way to the ring, a sly smile dancing on his lips. He takes his seat at the table, the orchestrator of this grand spectacle.

Lucas Quinn observes, “The puppet master himself has arrived, and he’s right where he wants to be – in control and pulling the strings. Benedict Beel Zebub has set the stage, and now, we eagerly await the main players.”

“My dear friends, tonight marks a pivotal moment in GLOBAL history,” Benedict Beel Zebub begins, his voice dripping with calculated charm. “Our esteemed champion, Sean Darring, you have indeed proven yourself as a worthy holder of the prestigious GLOBAL Championship. But every chapter must come to a close, and every legacy must eventually make way for a new era. Fear not, for tonight, we bear witness to the genesis of a new champion, Daniel Dream.”  

The arena erupts as “American Idiot” blares over the PA system. Daniel Dream strides out with a determined look in his eyes, clutching a microphone tightly in his hands. With every step he takes, the anticipation in the air becomes palpable, and the crowd’s cheers intensify, eager to witness this pivotal moment in GLOBAL history.

As Daniel Dream steps into the ring, his expression flickers upon seeing Benedict Beel Zebub already seated at the table. He hesitates for a moment, then with a wry smile, he addresses Benedict, “I’m pretty sure I told you back in the locker room that I’m the one who writes my story in the ring, but thanks for gracing us with your presence anyway, Benedict.” The crowd senses the tension and remains on the edge of their seats, eagerly awaiting how the encounter will unfold.  

“Ah, Daniel, my dear, I know your heart is set on winning that GLOBAL Championship and I’m well aware of how intense these contract signings can get. I’m merely here as an observer, just in case things happen to escalate to a more physical encounter. But rest assured, I have complete faith in your abilities and your vision for your destiny.” 

As the discussion on contracts and values continued, The Mark emphasizes, “Contracts can indeed be written in lawyer speak. Benedict Beel Zebub’s influence in this situation cannot be underestimated.”

Allie, however, stood firm, unwilling to fully agree, countering, “Daniel Dream has made it abundantly clear that he is his own man, and he won’t be swayed easily.”

Amidst the commentators’ banter, the arena is electrified by the familiar tune of “The Final Countdown” by Europe. The Las Vegas crowd erupts with applause as the legendary wrestler and current GLOBAL champion, Sean Darring, makes his grand entrance.

Lucas Quinn tries to make himself heard over the booming music and cheers, noting, “Look at Benedict Beel Zebub’s expression. It’s as if he has seen a ghost. He knows all too well that the GLOBAL champion is determined to expose and confront the puppet master here tonight!”

With an air of confidence, Sean Darring strolls down the aisle in his impeccably tailored black suit, every inch the epitome of class and power. His symbolic golden tie serves as a bold reminder to Benedict Beel Zebub and Daniel Dream that he is the reigning champ, a title he wears proudly. 

Daniel Dream and Benedict Beel Zebub exchange glances, uncertainty flickering in their eyes as they observe the Global Champion’s imposing presence. As Sean Darring steps between the ropes and holds the microphone, the arena falls silent, eager to hear what the champion has to say.

“Sin City, how the hell are you?” The raucous Vegas crowd, a vibrant part of Global Nation, erupts in thunderous support as the champion flashed a confident smile. “Here we are, with the number one contender, Daniel Dream, and how fitting it is that we’re in Sin City, where he’s brought along his little devil sitting proudly on his right shoulder, whispering in his ear.”

The boos ring through the arena, clearly directed at Benedict Beel Zebub, who appears unamused by the champion’s remarks.

“But let’s stay focused Daniel Dream. This is all about you,” Sean Darring continues, choosing his words carefully. “That contract right there represents your final chance. Dreams of becoming professional wrestlers are common in this industry, and a select few manage to break into this business. The dream then shifts to becoming a champion.”

Daniel Dream’s gaze remains locked on the champion as Sean Darring chooses his words wisely. “But only a handful get the opportunity to challenge for this title. As you stand there, looking at this glorious masterpiece on that table, I hope it’s sinking in. This might be your last chance.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as Sean Darring pauses, allowing his words to sink in like a dagger. Benedict Beel Zebub tries to interject, shouting, “Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to get in your head.” But the champion shut Zebub down, his voice unwavering.

“Daniel Dream, you want to fulfill your dream? You want your GLORY?” The Legend’s voice rings out, commanding attention as he addresses the number one contender. “Then tell that yapping idiot to get lost and join me at this table.” With determination, he walks over and confidently takes a seat at the table where the glorious Global Champion sits proudly.

Benedict Beel Zebub has finally had enough of the champion’s insults and, with a swift motion, signaled to the back. The cheers from the crowd quickly morph into boos as Paul Sanders and Kid Chameleon, known as The Players, emerge to join the intriguing scene.

Lucas Quinn can’t help but question, “Who invited them?”

The Mark responds with a smirk, “Apparently, Benedict Beel Zebub did!”

Paul Sanders, smarting from the jeers that he is slowly becoming accustomed to, has the microphone in his left hand, the right one on his hip, and shakes his head at this unappreciative audience. “B-B-Z, DD and me and KC are all in Darring’s head,” Sanders says, apparently knowingly, pointing to his head.

“You see, we know Daniel doesn’t need us out there, he’s The American Dream after all, but just in case he does, well, you never know.  BUT…” Paul proclaims, putting his hand up, as the crowd boos him once again.

“We respect you, and Daniel, and respect the game.  WE DON’T RESPECT ANY OF YOU THOUGH,” Paul yells, marching to the right side of the ring, leaning over the top rope and rather rudely pointing at the GLOBAL Nation, who respond in kind by calling him a ‘grass roll’ or something along those lines.

Sanders hands the microphone to Chameleon, sunglasses, a leather jacket, a white shirt, and ripped jeans are all there, as you might expect. “Sean Darring, you’re one hell of a champion and a final boss.  But, final bosses are there to be slain, and this is Daniel’s dream.  We’re just here to help Daniel achieve that, and as my partner said, we respect you and the game, Sean.  No hard feelings – just business, and Daniel’s the best in THIS business,” Kid says, getting a bit closer to Darring, prompting a mixed reaction, given their affection for KC once upon a time and his respectful words for the GLOBAL kingpin, but not happy at his recent actions.  

Daniel Dream steps forward, firmly planting himself between Paul Sanders, Kid Chameleon, and Sean Darring, his eyes lock on the GLOBAL champion.”Guys, I appreciate your support, but I need to do this on my own. This is my dream, my shot at greatness, and I want to face Sean one-on-one. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

“Daniel, you need to listen to reason,” Benedict interrupts, attempting to intervene.

But before Benedict can continue, Daniel interrupts with a firm wave of the hand, dismissing Benedict, Paul, and Kid Chameleon. “I’ve got this, Benedict. This is my moment, and I don’t want any distractions. It’s just me and Sean in this ring, and I’m ready to make my destiny.”

Lucas Quinn contributes. “Well, there you’ve heard it, Daniel wants this one-on-one.  It’s his time and I, for one, wouldn’t bet against Dream doing it.”

The Mark cannot stomach Quinn repeating that phrase yet again. “Oh, we’ve heard that before, but who is calling the shots around here:  Dream or BBZ?  I’m not so sure.  If it’s who I think it is, then I think Darring will have to play the numbers game, one way or another, at Glory.”

Reece bullishly weighs in. “If anyone can, it’s that man, LEGEND SEAN DARRING.  He has overcome the odds so many times during his incredible and illustrious career, and he’ll do it again at Glory.”

The Players tip their imaginary hats at Darring, and walk away, leaving Dream and Darring as the only active wrestlers left in the ring.  Will that be the case come Glory, though?

Daniel Dream stands tall in the center of the ring, his eyes never leaving the contract that holds the key to his destiny. With a sense of purpose, he confidently holds the pen, the crowd’s anticipation palpable. As he lowers the pen to the paper, the weight of the moment seems to hang in the air, and for a brief second, time stands still. Then, with a determined stroke, he signs his name.

The Legend kept his eyes on all parties involved, his instincts sharp in the atmosphere of Sin City where trust was a rare commodity. Slowly, he walks over to the table, where the contract lay, and for a brief moment, he peered down, ensuring that Daniel Dream’s signature was legitimate. With a confident smile, he picked up the pen and swiftly carved out his name next to the number one contender’s, making GLORY’s main event official.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the Global Champion and the number one contender had officially put pen to paper, solidifying their clash in the ring. The Legend stands tall, his eyes still watchful of the others in the room, knowing that even amidst the celebration, the stakes are higher than ever.

Meanwhile, Benedict Beel Zebub’s expression darkens, having hoped to gain more control over the situation. However, The Legend’s decision is final, and the contract is now irrefutable.

Lucas Quinn’s voice echoes through the arena, capturing the intensity of the moment. “Ladies and gentlemen, there you have it! It’s official – the Global Champion Sean Darring versus Daniel Dream for the GLORY Championship at the next event!”

The Mark chimes in, “This match is going to be an explosive clash of dreams and destiny. Two warriors, each with their own motivations and pride, will collide inside the squared circle.”

Allie adds, “With Benedict Beel Zebub and The Players lurking in the background, you can be sure that this is far from over. Sin City just became the epicenter of wrestling’s most captivating drama!”

The fans roar with anticipation as the tension hung thick in the air, eagerly awaiting the grand spectacle that will unfold at the upcoming GLORY event. The Legend grabs a hold of the Global Championship title and turns towards the number one contender raising it in the air a message to Daniel Dream.  If you want this, come and get it.

The fans continue cheering, knowing they are in for a treat, witnessing history in the making. The third and final battle between these two men as the countdown to GLORY begins.

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