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Topics - Angelina Altomonte

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FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 6 Segment/Match Sign-Up
« on: February 01, 2018, 11:15:43 AM »
Respond below and thou shalt be given the thing thouest askest for!

Or DM me and we can talk!

Prologue - Staff

Intro - Staff

Segment 1 - Open

Opening Match
Tommy Stone Versus Angelo Salvatore Versus Sybyl
To Be Held at Universal Studios!

Writer -

Segment 2 - Open

Match 2
Alfie Tenner Versus Reno Nevada
To Be Held in Prison :-O?!?!

Writer - Open

Segment 3 - Open

Match 3
Zack Fantana Versus Natalie King
To Be Held at The Old Whale

Writer - Open

Segment 4 - Open

Main Event
Angelica Vaughn Versus The Blackstar (c)
Melee Championship
To Be Held at the Cincinnatti Hit Girls Stadium

Writer - Open

Segment 5 - Open

Epilogue - Staff

« on: February 01, 2018, 11:02:24 AM »
Show Prompt: Melee 5 was the ultimate display of power, as Angelina Altamonte excluded the actual fights of actual roster members in favor of hired talent to fight inside of a more standard wrestling ring in front of an adoring crowd. It's reasonable to assume Melee 6 will be something similar!

Can the fighters of Fight 2 Win expect more of the same for Melee Episode 6? Are they doomed to fight but never have their fights see the light of day? How should they respond knowing their efforts go uncelebrated?

Is there some way to rise up against the overlords?! Is Francis Ford Cuppola and his gang really finished, with the most confusing man in professional fighting locked away behind bars to possible be shivved or shanked?!

Tune in to find out!!!!: Sunday March 4, 2018
Roleplay Deadline: Wednesday February 28, 2018 @ 10 AM EST.
Segment Deadline: Friday March 2, 2018 @ 10 AM EST.

Opening Match
Tommy Stone Versus Angelo Salvatore Versus Sybyl
To Be Held at Universal Studios!

Match 2
Alfie Tenner Versus Reno Nevada
To Be Held in Prison :-O?!?!

Match 3
Zack Fantana Versus Natalie King
To Be Held at The Old Whale

Main Event
Angelica Vaughn Versus The Blackstar (c)
Melee Championship
To Be Held at the Cincinnatti Hit Girls Stadium

Card Subject to Change

MELEE EPISODES / Melee 5 - "The Satanic Verses"
« on: January 31, 2018, 11:47:43 AM »

Jake had skulked through the seamiest underbelly New York City had to offer after the night Francis Ford Cuppola got arrested. He slipped out the back door before the police could see he was there, and looked at the world with new, shell-shocked and jaded eyes. By the time he’d mustered the courage to confront the woman undoubtedly responsible for Francis being framed by phony evidence, he’d lost a shoe, ripped a pant leg and missed the anniversary of being dumped by his ex-girlfriend.

Jake rode the elevator up to the top floor of the Fight 2 Win office building, to her office in tattered clothing to match his shattered optimism about the world and reeking of urine and fecal matter from all the dark corners he’d been hiding in. The elevator doors dinged open and he marched down the hallway with barely a notice of the office staff turning up their nose at the whiff of him. At her door he didn’t bother knocking, it was long past the time for politeness. He was through being her patsy, her mole, or her whipping boy. He shoved into the door and found Angelina Altamonte already in a meeting. Her glare deflated half the courage he’d just mustered.

“You stink.” Jake stood in the office doorway looking from her to the man seated beside her, both of them seated before a wide projector screen stuck on still-frame. He crossed his arms awkwardly.

Her glare turned to a casual, victorious smirk.

“No matter. Get cleaned up, Jake. I want you to meet my new friend, Gabe Frohman.”

She introduced Jake to the man beside her, who regarded Jake with a lack of enthusiasm. Jake blinked hard.

“G-Gabe Frohman? The Wrestling King of Chicago?”

Gabe Frohman gave a half-smile.

“The same.”

“W-what’s going on?” Jake stammered, looking to Angelina.

“Gabe’s put together the new and improved Melee, Jake. We’re about to screen the premiere before it goes to air on Netflix. You can join us, after you clean up.”

“New and improved?”

“My boy, the product your company has been churning out is sadly not up to the standards Ms. Altamonte demands. So she has hired me to put together the product she does want.”

“It’s Cuppola’s fault.” She added, smirking with a wink at Jake. It made his stomach churn.

“You know you got him arrested, right?” Jake blasted at her. She feigned offense.

“No?! Oh dear. Whatever will we do?” She returned to smirking. “It’s all thanks to you that we got that flea out of our hair, Jake. I can't take all the credit. You led him right into our trap. His little attempt at taking this company over is squashed. The people helping him have scattered to the four winds of who gives a shit. Now we can focus on putting out product to rival the other wrestling companies.”

“I—,” Jake struggled, “I didn’t know you were going to get him actually arrested. You need to fix that. They’re going to lock him up for years with that planted evidence. He'll die in prison!”

“That’s the point, Jake. And, again, I couldn’t have done it without you.” She raised a champagne glass and tipped it graciously at him before taking a sip.

Jake’s heart sunk. Angelina patted the seat beside her.

“Now come on. Get out of those dirty clothes and come and enjoy the show Gabe’s put together.”

“Yes,” Gabe added proudly, “behold Fight 2 Win as Angelina Altamonte intended.”

Jake frowned, standing there as Gabe lifted a remote control and aimed it at the projector. And began the show.

An overhead shot of a massive stadium full of roaring fans! A light show spans the crowd as the cameras get close-ups of some signs fans are holding.








And the camera swoops overhead as the roaring generically awesome wrestling music pounds through the speakers before setting on the announce desk where Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, and Ryan Reynolds sit!

DWAYNE JOHNSON: Hello Fight 2 Win fans, I am Nate Hollis!

RYAN REYNOLDS: And this sexy beast right here is BRAD STOKES, BITCHES!

The crowd explodes at the sight of the two movie stars, and we’re treated to our first standing ovation of the night.


And pause. Jake is wearing a bathrobe, sitting on the couch forcing the playback to be paused.


Angelina and Gabe nod in unison with wide smiles.

“We spared no expense.” Gabe smiled.

“What happened to the real Nate Hollis and Brad Stokes.”

Gabe shook his head.

“They’re trapped inside that bomb shelter.” Angelina pointed out. “It would have cost too much to get them out, so we hired some even better replacements.”

Jake frowned as the logic leaped inside his head.

“Doesn’t it cost a fortune just to get Ryan Reynolds and Dwayne Johnson to appear at an event?”

Angelina and Gabe nod in unison with wide smiles.

“We spared no expense.” Gabe smiled.

“This is insane.” Jake found himself standing up, readying a barrage of words. “Wouldn’t it cost more to book named stars then to just keep things as they were?!”

Angelina and Gabe looked seriously at one another, before Angelina leaned forward and eyed Jake.

“Jake, listen. The fed as it was was a joke. Those commentators were a mess. The talent, travelling to different venues may have offered something different, but the reality is: market research and focus testing invariably tells us that people don’t want different. They don’t want novelty. They want excellence when it comes to all the things they’re familiar with. Anything else is scary to the mindless drones who consume this type of product. I’ve never wanted to run a joke fed, Jake. My father designed Fight 2 Win to be the best professional wrestling fed in the business, and instead, due to the circumstances, I’ve been forced to make due with… well, pure shit. I have the backing now. I have the resources, and the connections to finally make the wrestling federation of my dreams, the dreams of my father and then some. I’m not about to waste any more time on bullshit.”

Jake frowned as he watched her speak. Angelina leveled with him,

“Why settle for washed-up has-beens and never-was’, when you can hire premiere talent to run those popular storylines for them?”

“What are you saying?” Jake asked, his entire world shaken to its core.

“I’m saying: sit back, and relax. This show is the beginning of a new start for Fight 2 Win. And you get to be in on the ground floor. Now stop interrupting.”

She grabbed the remote and happily resumed playback.

The standing Ovation continues at the desk. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and Ryan “Deadpool and Waiting” Reynolds shake the hands of nearby fans before returning to the broadcast announcer’s table.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Thank you! Thank you folks! As I said, I am Nate Hollis and with me is my stalwart companion--

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Don’t you say it.


The crowd pops.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That’s the single biggest crowd pop that name has gotten in years. And don’t you forget it.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Never. Tonight, folks, as you’re joining us for tonight’s episode of Fight 2 Win’s Melee, we hope you’re buckled in for an evening of wrestling-packed action guaranteed to ignite your imagination and electrify your senses.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): We’re not giving you any of that pussy generic wrestling bullshit the other guys shit onto your television screens and expect you to lap up.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): It’s true. Cutthroat wrestling at it’s finest, Nate. Here we’re not just people pretending to be other people. We are the REAL DEAL, BABY!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): True enough. Tonight we have an array of electrifying matches culminating in what promises to be an epic triple threat match for the Melee Championship between the challengers, Brennan Devlin, The Blackstar and the undefeated champion Natalie King.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): It’s a huge way to end the night to look forward to. Like icing on a cake made of money shots. But first.

Vaughnemous Domination blasts onto the speakers and the crowd is on its feet to see the 5’9 Angelica Vaughn striding out to the top of the ramp. Well, it’s actually not Angelica Vaughn. It’s U.K. Defiant, PROGRESS and CHIKARA wrestling indie darling Millie McKenzie standing at the top of the ramp raising her arms.

“Hold it.” Jake stands once more, putting the playback on pause. Both Gabe Frohman and Angelina Altamonte wearily glance at him. “This is a joke, right?”

They look at him stone-faced.

“That’s not Angelica Vaughn!” Jake exclaims.

“And the guy playing Zack Fantana isn’t Zack Fantana, either. I don't see a problem,” Gabe shrugs.

Jake is incredulous.

“Why the hell not? Those two are superstars!”

“Not according to focus testing and market research,” Angelina intones coldly.

“According to the data, fans enjoy the idea of Zack Fantana and Angelica Vaughn more than they like the actual people.” Gabe added.

“So you just replaced them?!” Jake was at the point of hoarse shouting.

“We’re calling it ‘recast’. These people playing them are far more talented. And money draws in their own right.” Gabe Frohman added.

“But what did you do with the real fighters for Fight 2 Win?"

Jake was met with blank stares.

"You fired them?” He angrily growled missing the half-cocked whimsy of a Francis diatribe right about now.

“Not really.” Angelina sipped from her champagne. Jake looked from her to Gabe in confusion.

“We decided it’d be best to have them on standby, wrestling their little matches in their little venues just in case we do need to call them back up in the event of an injury.”

“They’re still employed?!” Jake was ready to tear his hair out.

“And happily fighting their regularly scheduled matches.” Angelina swirled the champagne inside of her glass, growing bored of Jake’s incredulity and dismay.

“We got in touch with this,” he read off a nearby sheet of paper, “Larry and David. We see a lot of potential in this new promo-cutting technology they've developed, and we’ve already reached out to them about simulating entire matches using the motion capture of the old guard of Fight 2 Win.”

“Does the roster know you’re doing this?” Jake looked ready to storm out. Angelina leaned forward, eyeing him icily.

“You don’t tell the monkeys what the experiment is until after it’s finished and you don’t need them anymore, Jake.” She took another sip, silently commanding him with her glare.

“Now please sit down and stop interrupting the playback. You’re being allowed in at the ground floor of a new era for not just Fight 2 Win, but also the wrestling industry as a whole. Don’t make me regret it, Jake.” She grabbed the remote and resumed playback.

Angelica Vaughn is in the ring, standing and watching the lights begin to dim and pulse at the top of the ramp as “Lucid Dreams” (the Album Version, not any other version) by Franz Ferdinand kicks in and the crowd pops as the highly decorated star of many past promotions struts to the top of the ramp. Zack Fantana, as played by Joey Janela, surveys the crowd through his super cool wrap-around 80’s shades before making his way down the ramp towards the crowd, even stopping near ringside to pretend to give one of the fans his shades but then thinks better of it and continues his way up the ring.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Consummate performers in these two. What a way to start the night.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): And that Angelica Vaughn is one nice piece of ASS.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): It’s what wrestling’s all about, Nate. If I can’t potentially have sex with them, why we even talking, ya know?

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): I’m sure there’s more to it than that.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Leave me to my shallow existence, and I’ll leave you to yours, big man.

Inside the ring, standing in the center, Angelica and Zack eye one another down.


The two of them begin to circle one another before Angelica raises an arm, challenging Zack to a test of strength. When Zack reaches in to meet her, she pulls her hand away to a mild chorus of cheers from the crowd.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Nicely done there. The old ‘pretend to shake my hand and instead swipe it through my hair making you look foolish', gag. Love that gag. It's among my favorite gag reflexes.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): It’s called a test of strength, Brad.

The two circle once more, again with Angelica Vaughn offering a test of might with Zack, and this time their fingers tie up and Angelica manages to twist Zack’s arms around uncomfortably and surprisingly brings him to his knees and then slams the sole of her boot down into his chest! And another kick and another before Zack is downed to the canvas. Angelica leaps up for a leg drop only for Zack to quickly roll out of the way! And the crowd cheers as Zack rises to a knee to stare down Angelica Vaughn.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): This match is huge. These two are fan favorite icons, boasting industry-wide popularity.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Funny they each don’t look like their roster photo.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): [Uncomfortable Laughter] Please don’t break the fourth wall, BRAD.

Angelica and Zack meet up once more, this time with Zack crashing Angelica down to the canvas with a headscissor takedown! He follows it up with a jumping body splash and hooks the leg for a cover!



Kickout for Angelica Vaughn

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): It’ll take more than that to put Angelica Vaughn  down!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That’s the equivalent of canned laughter, ‘Nate’. Don’t pander. No one likes a panderer. Especially Giant Panders.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Don't correct my speech in front of my fans.

Zack raises Angelica up to her feet and gets hit square with a jumping knee right to the chin and Angelica capitalizes with a headlock takedown she transitions into a crossface! Zack squirms and rolls, managed to free himself from her grip before she can lock it in tight. And once more the two of them rise to their feet to stare one another down as the crowd cheers and applauds their efforts.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Literally giving the fans one hell of a show right now, brother!

Angelica and Zack meet up once more, this time Zack swinging Angelica into the ropes and on the rebound he leap frogs her. On the return he aims a leaping side kick that she ducks and swings a back kick that connects and knocks Zack off his feet. She drops an elbow down into his chest and makes the cover!



: A kickout after that ridiculous attempt at a pin.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS):  The Vaughnemous One is never short on effort or heart. And these fans never refrain from letting her know!

The crowd is still on its feet, watching as Angelica Vaughn drags Zack Fantana to his feet, and Zack swings an elbow into Vaughn’s side, knocking her off balance then he swings up a merciless pele kick, is up on his feet and slams down a standing moonsault that pops the crowd!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Fantana with the cover!




: No! So close!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): It could have been closer.

Zack grips Vaughn back up to her feet and Irish whips her towards the corner only for Vaughn to step her way up the ropes and find herself at the top and stuns the crowd, and Zack, as she leaps off and hits him with a leaping thrust kick that blasts Zack backward into the opposite corner!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Stunning kick right there!

And Vaughn is on a roll with the crowd behind her. Vaughn lays into Fantana with an array of kicks to the midsection and chest that has Zack slumping in the corner! And Angelina rushes to get some distance between herself and Zack and then rushes for a bronco buster that Zack gets out of the way of at the last second!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): And the crowd goes wild for that home run!

Zack stumbles to his feet as Angelica Vaughn is stuck in the corner! Zack takes a moment to catch his wind before heaving Vaughn up and SLAMMING her down with a double knee facebreaker and the crowd EXPLODES as Zack rolls her over for the pin!





: She kicked out!!!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t just seen it, but I did just see it, and I’m STILL having trouble believing it!

Zack can’t believe it either! He’s stunned, watching as Vaughn struggles to get to her knees. He moves over to her to grip her up to her feet only to be caught by Vaughn’s mandible claw!!! The crowd erupts as Vaughn has Zack caught off guard as Vaughn forces Zack down to the canvas!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): THIS could be it! Zack has nowhere to go!

In moments Vaughn’s mandible claw has nearly subdued Zack! The ref checks Zack! Lifts Zack’s arm and it drops!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): It’s not looking good for Zack Fantana!

The ref lifts Zack arm once more and once more it drops and the crowd is in a glass case of emotion as the ref raises Zack’s arm once more only this time the arm doesn’t drop!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Zack’s not done!!!!

Angelica Vaughn is shocked! Maintaining the mandible claw as Zack’s arm shakes with a sudden surge of power!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): This is just like every match containing Hulk Hogan ever before he got caught having sex!

Zack’s arm is shaking as Zack is Zacking up, his entire body surging with the power of all the Fantanamaniacs in the crowd! Zack starts to rise up to his feet still  shaking and being awesome. Zack shoots off blow after blow forcing Vaughn to release her what-should-have-been finishing mandible claw and suddenly the two are trading powerful, ring-shaking blows to the crowd’s delight!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): This is the most unrealistic fight ever put to tape.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): The fans are ecstatic!! Electrified!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Just not literally.

Angelica Vaughn and Zack Fantana are going insane with amazing fighting fists of fury, trading blow for blow before both simultaneously rebound off the ropes and meet in the middle with a big boot to each other’s faces! Knocking each other down into a stupor!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): They both look like they’re out cold!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That looked pre-planned.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Wrestling’s not like that, Brad.


The referee stands over Vaughn and Fantana who are both seemingly knocked out cold! The ref begins the count.


: I hope Fantana does the Hulkster surge again.



DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): The fans are behind both of these two 110%!




: Neither competitor is moving!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): This could be it! He said, feigning surprise. Look at these fans eating this farce up.



The referee checkes them both and neither is even conscious!!




The crowd is on its feet in an undecided wave of calamity!

The referee consults with the ring announcer as they slowly bring Vaughn and Fantana around. The Ring Announcer is being played by Michael Bolton for some reason. He stands there with his crazy blonde mullet.

MICHAEL BOLTON: As the result of a double countout, and both competitors being unable to continue… it has been decided by unanimous decision by the highly impartial judges that the winner of this contest…. IS THE FANS!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): The fans win it! The fans win!!!

The fans go nuts.


DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): What a hard earned victory there for the fans! This one was touch and go from the very beginning!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): The fans haven’t even been cleared for active competition!

The crowd is cheering as Michael Bolton continues.

MICHAEL BOLTON: And if each of the fans looks under their chairs…

The fans do…


Another standing ovation.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): And you get a prize! And you get a prize! EVERYBODY GETS A PRIZE!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS):This show has something for everyone!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): It's almost like they planned that to make the show appeal across all demographics!

The arena is an auditory example of pandemonium!

Jake grips the bridge of his nose, once more standing in front of the paused playback screen with Angelina and Gabe Frohman looking at him with annoyed expectation.

“Were you intending on interrupting every match?” Gabe Frohman asks snottily.

“What the heck is going on?! Why did that happen?! You guys are bastardizing these matches!”

“Look,” Angelina said crossly, “focus testing dictated that the popularity of those two is too great to give either of them a loss to one another.”

“So you’re deciding the winners ahead of time?!” Jake asked on his last nerve.

They stared at him blankly.

“Well, how else would we do it?”

Jake blinked in shock.

“I don’t know. Do it how the REAL Fight 2 Win decides wins?! By merit and hard work, with the fighters either winning or losing on their own without you people DECIDING it?!”

Angelina and Gabe blinked at him.

“Yeah. See. The problem with that is I’m good friends with both Millie McKenzie and Joey Janela. I couldn't just LET my friends lose. That's not how this works. We tried to find someone we didn’t like to soak up the loss, but…”

Jake stood there blinking in the mid of what could have been a brain hemmorhage.

“You’re being far too judgemental before you see the entire show, Jake.”

“I don’t need to see the entire show.”

“Don’t you want to see how it ends?” She teased with a wink.

Jake glared. Angelina patted the seat beside her.

“Don’t judge till you’ve seen the whole thing. It’s not that bad, just a little adjustment period and you’ll be back on-board this train. I know this is a challenging experience for you. You were growing attached to that pitiful old man and his gang of cronies, and I’m afraid I’m to blame for it. Think of this as a chance for all of us to start over. Fresh.”

Jake looked mildly assured. Slowly, heaving out heavy sighs, he sat down beside her. She resumed playback.

All four competitors are already in the ring staring at each other. The begin to circle around each other.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Welcome back, Fight 2 Win fans! As we’re set to bear witness to the debut of Reno Nevada and Sybyl in this fatal fourway matchup with Alfie Tenner and Shane Clemmens!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): This match needs more cowbell.




The most inexperienced, Reno Nevada (Chris Ridgeway) finds himself in the middle of the ring. The other three pounce on him. Shane Clemmens, (Colt Cabana) hits him with two elbows until he drops and the three of them stomp him into the mat. He rolls out of the ring and the remaining competitors square each other up.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Reno Nevada has a strong bare-knuckle boxing background, but that’s not exactly great preparation for the world of professional wrestling.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Didn’t Fight 2 Win used to be a little less… um…



DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): What are you trying to say, Brad?

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Nothing. Just that if they’d kept with the original format Reno Nevada would have been right at home.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): You know it’s true.

Alfie Tenner (Shlak), steps back as Sybyl (Jimmy Havoc), stands tall in front of Shane Clemmens. Sybyl spreads his arms open and dares Clemmens to strike. He doesn’t expect the clubbing blow by Alfie Tenner from behind which sends him right into a lariat by Clemmens. Shane keeps moving forward after dropping Sybyl and tries to go for a lariat on Tenner, but Alfie ducks and delivers a right and a left to Clemmens before reaching back and smashing Shane with a lariat of his own.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Alfie Tenner is clearing house right now!

He plays to the crowd in the middle of the ring until he is hit hard by a running missile dropkick by Reno Nevada.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Give it time. You speak too soon every time. Is that in the script?

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Stop breaking the fourth wall, man.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): How much they paying you, Rock?

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who's this 'Rock' character?

As Ryan Reynolds rolls his eyes, Reno takes stock of everyone else on the ground and decides to play to the audience as well. The other three rise to their knees and he goes from body to body delivering kicks to each person and ends the barrage with a kick to the head. He looks around as the fans cheer and pins Sybyl.


Sybyl gets a shoulder up. Reno covers Shane Clemmens and hooks a leg.


Clemmens breaks the pin as well. Reno covers Alfie and hooks both legs .


: He went for all three there!

Sybyl kicks Reno in the head to break the pin. He then hops up and stomps on Reno’s back, then on Tenner’s chest. Shane Clemmens tries to hit him with a rolling elbow but Sybyl hooks it with his own, ducks under, and hits a discus elbow of his own. He tries a pin but Shane is too close to the ropes and he easily reaches up to stop the win.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): These competitors are still in the feeling out process.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That sounds like it would make good commentary in a video game.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That is not the fourth wall.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Well it’s at the perimeter.

Aflie Tenner and Reno Nevada fight on the other side of the ring. Alfie has his guard up and tries to stop the quick striking offense of Reno Nevada. Finally he resorts to rushing Nevada and putting both arms around him. He lands a belly to belly. Reno reels from the pain and Tenner capitalizes on it by kicking him on the back. He sets Nevada up in the corner and works him over with some punches to the midsection and side of the head. He steps back to deliver a kick but is knocked down by the feet of Sybyl who is the victim of Shane Clemmens’ Airplane Spin. Shane sets him down and tries to maneuver the ring. He pinpoints where Sybyl is after some fan directions and then hits him with a Bionic Elbow. He pins.



: A close call there for Sybyl!

But Sybyl kicks out. Shane spots Reno Nevada slumps over in the corner with his hand over his mouth. Clemmens takes his chance and tries to hit a rolling senton on him but Reno moves out of the way at the last second and he crashes against the bottom and middle turnbuckles. Reno enters the ring but is stomped on once again by Sybyl. Reno gets on all fours and Sybyl uses the bottom rope to jump up and stomp his head into the mat. He goes out to get something under the ring and takes out an autographed picture of himself!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): I love it. Take a picture, Sybyl… RIGHT TO HIS SKULL! Ahaha.

He comes back in and holds Reno in a fujiwara armbar with a little pressure. Then he positions the 8 x 10 in between Reno’s fingers and slides it back on the skin. He does it between each finger and the audience cringes for each of the 10 inches he does it in.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Sybyl is viciously papercutting Reno Nevada!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): And that’s not just any papercut! That’s photo paper! Much worse.

Reno gets his arm back and squirms on the ground from the pain. Sybyl bounces off the ropes to finish him off, but Tenner grabs him by the neck and falls to the floor with the hold still applied giving Sybyl some nasty whiplash. He enters the ring to capitalize on the momentum but Shane Clemmens grabs him and hits three snap suplexes in a row.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): The crowd loved that.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): The crowd loves everything. It’s like someone’s paying them to.

Clemmens throws Alfie into the corner then Sybyl to the same corner. Finally he grabs Reno up and throws him to that same corner, staking his three opponents. He runs to the opposite corner and back to hit Reno with a Flying Asshole. He runs back as Reno falls and hits Sybyl with the Flying Asshole. Finally he goes to hit Alfie Tenner with one but Alfie grabs him and throws him off!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): A stunning reversal there by Alfie Tenner!

Alfie then headbutts Shane for the Gypsy Kiss. As Clemmens is dazed Alfie clutches in a full nelson and drops him with the full nelson slam.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Alfie Tenner is making a HUGE impact here tonight!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Where’s his sister? Did they not cast her?


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Have you not seen any of my movies???

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): No, sorry. I was too busy making my own.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Touche. But nice breakage of the fourth wall there, champ.


Sybyl runs up but Reno Nevada blindsides him with a knee to the head. Reno chops him and Alfie comes up and chops him as well. They chop him right to the corner. Alfie tells Reno to stand right in the middle of the ring. He runs at Sybyl and smashes into him with a lariat. Then he grabs an arm and whips him to Reno who strikes him with a Kneesy Does It.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Nice teamwork in a match that probably ought not to have much team work in it!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): They’re reaching the 5 to 14 demographic.

Alfie Tenner points at Clemmens and goes for a handshake. When Reno grabs his hand he pulls Reno in for another Gypsy Kiss. He scoops Reno up to his an Imploder. Reno squirms out of the ring so Alfie grabs Shane Clemmens and hits him with a quick headbutt then a Facebuster. He them sets him up with a look at the other competitors then lifts him high and drops Clemmens to hit a Jackknife Powerbomb.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Alfie Tenner with the pin!



Sybyl enters the ring but not soon enough!



Sybyl is to late to break the pin and Alfie Tenner wins!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Alfie Tenner has done it! Alfie Tenner has won this match!

As Alfie’s music rocks through the speakers and the crowd is on its feet roaring, Michael Bolton enters the ring!

MICHAEL BOLTON: And here is your winner…. ALFIE…. TENNER!

Alfie lifts his arms and parades around the ring!

MICHAEL BOLTON: And if everyone will look under their seat…



The crowd roars!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): What an unbelievable night for the fans!

Fade in to the view of Salvatore’s Casino in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip. A Cathedral inspired design with flashing lights covering just about every inch of the exterior. Two large parking lots flank the Casino; one on either side. Each is jammed packed with vehicles of all makes and models.

Inside, all the blackjack tables and craps tables are accounted for. There is only but a rare machine without a patron. The hardwood floor is jammed with men and women seeking to either forget the troubles of their reality or to simply feed an alcohol or gambling addiction; or perhaps both.

A man in a white suit is met by two taller, muscular men. These men are also in suits, each with a black tie and the Salvatore Casino Security emblem sewn onto the breast pocket. They have Bluetooth speaking in their right ear. As the lone man approaches them, they simply nod. They know exactly who he is, and what his business is. No words are spoken, as they aren't necessary at this juncture. They lead the man down through the main lobby and past the Cashier’s counter. Down a long hallway and to an elevator which stands alone at the end. They guide the man into the elevator and press the very bottom button of the panel. They make sure to stand in front of the elevator doors upon entering, ensuring the other man is behind them.

Once the elevator opens, they guide the man through another hallway, this one having just one door on the end. He audibly clears his gulps, feeling a bit nervous by this all. Of course, he also knows that is the point. He is supposed to be intimidated by all of this. He is stories from the main floor of the Casino now.

As they reach the door on the end, the two guards turn so that they are on either sides of the door. The guard on the right knocks three times and pauses. A male voice from inside instructs them to “Enter”. They open the door and guide the man in the white suit into the room.

He looks around, and his nerves must be going haywire. It is a small, desolate room. The walls are all cement. Some chips exist within them. As he looks to the right, he sees a wall with a blood splatter. A man tied to a wooden chair with a head slung over. Angelo Salvatore stands before him, seen placing something inside his suit jacket as he turns to face his company. He looks over his shoulder briefly at two more Security Guards.

“Clean that up.” He instructs. His authority is very clear by his tone of voice. He leads his new arrival to a small metallic table with two chairs; one on either side. As Salvatore sits, he motions for his guest to as well. The man in the white suit seems hesitant. The two Security Guards before him push him down into the seat. Salvatore pulls a bottle of Bourbon from a nearby cabinet attached to the cement wall. Pouring two glasses, and sliding over one to his guest. He then glances over to the Security Guards behind the man.

“That's good, Gentlemen. You are excused.”

They promptly exit, shutting the door behind them, as Salvatore sips on his bourbon. He looks across the table at the nervous wreck that stands before him, his intimidation tactics seemed to have been executed flawlessly. Finally, the man in white reaches over for his glass. He nervously holds it, and you can see the slightest shake in his hands.

“So…” He begins, slowly trailing off. He's almost afraid to finish his thought. “Who was the guy in the chair?” He sips on his bourbon as he points to the still, very prominent, blood splatter on the adjacent cement wall. Salvatore doesn't initially respond, opting to have another drink first, instead. He then looks his guest in the eyes, his blue piercing eyes saying all that needed to be said.

“That's not important.”

He nods at Salvatore’s answer. Truth is, it was probably best that way. He knew Salvatore had some skeletons, and he knew that he had some connections, but he didn't know where they lied. He didn't fully know what Salvatore’s end game was. He did know one thing, though. Salvatore would interrupt this train of thought, however.

“I know why you are here.”

It was a simple statement. It was calmly said. However, it seemed critical; important. The man in white didn't seem that surprised, but still felt a great deal of anxiety.

“Oh, you do?”

Salvatore nodded. At this juncture, his glass of bourbon was nearly empty. He raised it up to his lips once more, emptying its contents. He savored every drop, just as he had with this passive display of intimidation. He stared at the glass for a few moments before setting it back down onto the table, and looking back to his guest.

“Fight 2 Win.”

Again, he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. Yet, the simple declaration carried so much weight. The man in white didn't have anything to say in response. This, of course, made Salvatore grin.

“Such a great concept, isn't it? Fighters from across the globe. A true “anybody can win” atmosphere, isn't it? Such potential...yet…”

His voice trails off. He wrinkles his nose as he continues to stare at the nervous man before him.

“Such deceit. Such corruption. Such utter disdain for all that is good and right.”

Suddenly the man in white saw his chance. A glimmer of hope. He was starting to think that perhaps he was destined to end up like the man in the chair, before him. He didn't say a word, as he slid a manila envelope across the table. Salvatore didn't even look down. He knew exactly what was inside. He nodded.

“Like I said, I know exactly what you are doing here.” He picked up the envelope, tucking it inside his jacket.

“The real question is, why are you doing it? Why do you want to involve yourself in this?”

With beads of sweat gliding down both sides of his face, the man in white leaned forward.

“Simply put, Mr. Salvatore, we need all the help we can get. Reputations be damned.”

Salvatore nodded. There seemed to be a lot of unspoken agreements in place, during this meeting. Salvatore poured himself another drink.

“Well then, I can only hope that you and your...cohorts...are ready for the storm that is coming.”

The man in white sullenly nodded. It was crystal clear that he feared the man before him, although he wouldn't exactly elude to why. That didn't exactly matter. He needed Salvatore. Salvatore knew it. For now, he had all the cards.

“We are, Mr. Salvatore. We are. We don't have a choice in the matter. Are hand has been forced, much like yours will be, in due time. We can only hope to weather the storm, and survive.”

Angelo didn't seem to care much for that response.

“You want me to do this, but are not ready for the consequences. Is that what I am hearing? I am going to make myself very clear. If I do this, there will be no interference. I will not be compromised. My family will not be compromised. You, or anybody else, will not be in the way. A man lost his life in this very room minutes ago because he got in the way. Capiche?”

No reply. Luckily, that was the right answer in this case.

“That's what I like to hear. Obedience. Less is more. Always remember that. You are wrong, however, if you think the coming storm can be weathered. You aren't equipped to fight it but rather, you need to run. You need to seek higher ground.

A knock on the door.

“Ah, gentlemen, come in, come in.”

The same two Security Guards as before enter.

“Please help our guest. He was just leaving.”

Salvatore adjusts his collar, and stands.

“I'm glad we understand each other. It will be a pleasure, I'm sure. As long as you remember.

The storm is coming.”

With that, Angelo Salvatore exits. Leaving the Security detail to escort the man in white back to the main lobby of Salvatore’s Casino.


RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Not sure where we went since this is typically commercial-free programming.

BLACKOUT. The arena is enshrouded in total darkness.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): And now the lights have gone out. This is never good.

A low hum of double bass strings and organs builds below. MUSIC QUEUE: A lone trumpet rises up, quiet at first, playing the building intro of Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra, ascending to the first FANFARE.

A single SPOTLIGHT, purple and vivid, slices through the darkness. It ILLUMINATES the BLACKSTAR as he RISES from beneath the floor at the top of the ramp in a cloud of mist.


The timpani thunders back and forth and then rolls, giving way for the trumpet’s return, this time with even more GUSTO. The SUPREME LEADER takes two steps forward and stops. Quickly, his arms cross over his chest. His hands clutch ORBS of COSMIC ENERGY, invisible to the eye of mere mortals. His majesty is BREATHTAKING.


The second FANFARE rises and EXPLODES. ANGELIC voices join the orchestra, until the BOMBASTIC timpani HAMMERS with alternating strikes. The BLACKSTAR marches emphatically toward the ring.

The third section, even LOUDER than the second, is timed with star-shaped lights spinning around and over the audience. He interacts with the crowd. Some give him the SUPREME salute, which he returns, shouting SUPREME along with them. Still, some boo him, denouncing Scientology. He threatens to #DISCONNECT them while giving a quick throat-slit gesture.

The THIRD and FINALE FANFARE builds and then EXPLODES with a tidal wave of brass, woodwind, string instruments, and a chorus of celestials. Nearing ringside, he takes three quick steps and slides head first under the bottom rope, then pops up to his feet. He runs to a corner and leaps straight to the middle turnbuckle. Standing over the audience, he looks down upon the mob. The orchestra gives the FINAL THREE NOTES and he once again delivers his TAUNT of SUPREMACY, yelling “SUPREME” over the symphony orchestra’s final note before it's released and the music fades to silence. And then a torrent of streamers is shout out from the crowd onto the ring, and The Blackstar! Black, white and purple streamers drape over his arms, down past his face, and all around creating an almost mummified personage! And then Blackstar turns back to his corner, still covered in streamers.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): That’s a lot of streamers.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): I’m telling you, this event has something for everyone. Even fans of Japanese wrestling.

“Flesh and Bone” by Burning Brides cuts through the final strains of Blackstar’s entrance and the crowd pops as Brennan Devlin strides out from the entranceway looking as cocky as always!

MICHAEL BOLTON: And introducing next… the true FACE of Wrestling… BRENNAN…. DEVVVVVVLIIIIIIIN!

The crowd boos, those who remember him from days past in Atlantic City, or with 4CW and either boo or cheer, creating a tidal wave of indistinguishable noise. And then the crowd shoots Orange and white streamers at Devlin as he makes his way down to the ring. He’s walking down the ramp, cockily outstretching his arms covered in streamers. The entire ramp is covered in streamers as Devlin makes his way to ringside, doing a cocky strut around the ring, eyeing in at Blackstar before climbing the stairs and entering the ring. Devlin comes to center ring and stands there with a big cocky grin as people shoot streamers into the ring! Engulfing Devlin in streamers! And then he moves to his corner turnbuckle.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES):  I think I got hit by some of those streamers.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): There’s a lot of them.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): What would a main event be without instigating a minor environmental crisis?

"I Like The Nightlife Baby"  by The Suicide File hits and the crowd erupts in a chorus of cheers as Natalie King strides out to the top of the ramp and immediately raises the Melee Championship overhead to a massive wall of approval from the crowd!

MICHAEL BOLTON: And making her way to the ring… the MELEE CHAMPION… NATALIE…. KING!!!!

And they shoot streamers!!!

Natalie King makes her way down the ramp, stepping over the swath of streamers covering the ramp. She claps hands of those in the crowd and then makes her way up the steps, stopping along the ring apron to once more showcase her hard-earned Melee Championship!

And they shoot more streamers!!!


Natalie King struggles to move with all the streamers covering her, everything is covered in streamers!

Inside the ring Natalie King soaks up the applause as they shoot more streamers!!! And then she makes it her corner to stare down her opponents as ring assistants come down to clean up all the streamers.

20 minutes later.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): All I’m saying is Rampage is only loosely based off the source mater—HEY we’re back!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Totally not talking about anything other than how AWESOME Fight 2 Win is.

All the streamers are gone now, the ring assistants have 42 large garbage pails they’re carting away from ringside by forklift. And the crowd has lost just an ounce of its energy as Natalie King, The Blackstar and Brennan Devlin stare one another down. They move to the center of the ring, watching as the official holds up the Melee Championship to show everyone what they’re competing for before lowering it to another ring assistant.


Blackstar slams a side fist into Devlin, knocking him immediately off balance once the bell rings, and then shoots off a stunning side thrust kick that topples Devlin to the canvas, then Blackstar immediately turns his focus to Natalie King who kicks the Supreme One in the midsection and drops him with a pedigree that gives the crowd a huge pop! Natalie King goes for a quick cover!


A kickout! Brennan Devlin is up and he rushes Natalie King but she’s able to use his momentum against him and swing him into a spinning powerslam pinning combination.


Another kickout!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Frenzied pace so far.

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): This is for the Melee Championship. You’re damn right these people will be fighting for their right to claim that digitized, processed image as their own!



Natalie King is up and ready to confront the Blackstar only to be surprised with a sudden and surprising tornado DDT that flattens the champ and wows the crowd! And Blackstar isn’t done there! He’s up to his feet and instantly running up the ropes, readying for a stunning moonsault but Devlin gets in the way and surprises Blackstar with a quick catch double knee backbreaker that halts Blackstar’s progress and stuns the crowd!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Devlin is ever the opportunist! Each of these competitors is looking for the slightest hint of weakness--

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): You used that one already.

Seeing Nat down Devlin drops an elbow, then slams a standing moonsault down onto the champ and goes for a cover!



A kickout from Natalie King! Blackstar is on his feet delivering a huge clothesline to Devlin! And Blackstar retaliates from Devlin’s earlier interruption by slamming repeated stomps down into Devlin before Natalie King powers up with a vicious uppercut that knocks Blackstar backward, then Natalie King downs Blackstar with a flying bulldog and she hooks the leg for a quick cover.



Devlin is up and meeting a charging Natalie King head on. He greets her with an irish whip into the corner she flips up and over the turnbuckle for and he surprises her with a running boot that topples Natalie King off the apron to the outside!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Nasty spill there for Natalie King. They rubbed the champion right off this one for the time being.

Devlin turns in time to be greeted with an impressive head scissor takedown from the Blackstar who is up and back down with jumping knee drop that rattles the ring and ‘ooo’s the crowd! And then like a bolt of lightning Blackstar runs up the ropes and topes out of the ring onto Natalie King who was just rising to her feet and the two crash into the guardrail!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): NICE! Love to see that acrobatic flippy shit!

The ref looks on as both Nat and Blackstar are down and out on the outside, with Brennan Devlin slowly climbing back to his feet and joins them outside. He stomps on one, then the other, and exchanges vicious stomps before lifting Blackstar up to a stand and rushing him at the ringpost for a collision!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): And once more Devlin is there to break up the momentum.

Devlin smashes Blackstar’s face off the ring post repeatedly before he tosses him angrily at the announce table where Blackstar’s back braces up against it. Devlin threatens Blackstar with a chair which the referee warns him against! Devlin keeps threatening before turning his threats at the ref! Natalie King charges at him only for Devlin to throw the chair up between them and manages a dropkick right on the face of the chair and Natalie King’s head that drops the champ!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Impressive maneuver there by Brennan Devlin!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That actually was pretty impressive!

The ref thinks that was legal! And Devlin kicks and stomps Blackstar some more before rolling the champion into the ring and climbing up the apron, then up to the top rope where Devlin scouts a high flying move!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Brennan Devlin isn’t ordinarily a high-flyer folks!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES):  It’s almost like they hired an actor to play him!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): You’ve used that one before! That’s enough fourth wall breaking out of you! We’re going to have a new champion!

And then Devlin springs into an amazing looking shooting star press, with two rotations only to come down on Natalie King’s upturned knees right into Devlin’s midsection! And the crowd pops as Natalie King is clearly not finished.

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Devlin wasn’t expecting Natalie King to still have some gas left in the tank!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): A knee to his ribs at that angle, from that height… poor guy’s gonna be limping for weeks!

After moments of gathering her bearings, Natalie King hoists Devlin to his feet and SLAMS Devlin down with a snap piledriver and makes the cover with Blackstar slowly rising to his feet on the outside.



Blackstar is sliding into the ring to break up the pin!



DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS): Blackstar tried to get there in time to break up the pin but he didn’t make it!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): Real nail-biter there.

Natalie King’s music hits and she is awarded the Melee Championship!

MICHAEL BOLTON: Here is your winner… and STILL Melee Champion… NATALIE…. KING!

Natalie King celebrates her huge victory as her music hits!

RYAN REYNOLDS (BRAD STOKES): That is absolutely unprecedented! Natalie King retains after 5 defenses!

DWAYNE JOHNSON (NATE HOLLIS):She’s definitely one of the best out there right now!

Still in the ring,

MICHAEL BOLTON: Ladies and gentleman, if you’ll please look under your seats--

Pause. Jake sits stunned, staring at the screen. Both Angelina and Gabe clink their champagne glasses together triumphantly before glancing at Jake.

“Now that, young man, is how a REAL wrestling show goes.” Gabe smirks, giving Angelina’s champagne glass another gentle TINK.

“Jake?” Angelina asked, almost sounding genuinely concerned. Jake sat there like a sullen lump watching the still-frame paused image on the big screen plasma television.

“You really did it, didn’t you?” He asked finally, silently and forlorn.

“Did what? Another triumph? I should say Angelina Altamonte getting her way is going to set this once sinking ship back out to see, and heading for treasure isles.” Gabe clinked glasses once more with a proud Angelina.

Slowly, Jake turned to glare at them.

“What happens when the actual fighters find out what you’ve done?”

It hadn’t occurred to Angelina or Gabe. They look at him with raised eyebrows each.

“What do you mean, ‘what happens’? What are they going to do? They’re under contract?” Angelina snickered.

Jake looked downcast at the floor, thinking.

“Jake, you don’t get to spend all that time infiltrating Francis Ford Cuppola’s little group hellbent on destroying my vision all in the name of destroying them from within then suddenly find yourself a high horse to sit on once it’s all said and done.” Angelina’s tone had grown serious, and scolding.

Jake felt it sinking in his gut, the damage he’d done to Francis, and what his actions had ultimately helped bring about. Angelina leaned forward and hooked his chin to capture his glance toward hers.

“Listen, little boy. It’s better to be on the winning team. This isn’t business ethics, this is business. Cuppola can rot, and these contracted fighters you’re so worried about? Well they either fall in line… or they fall off the face of the earth. And you have a choice, too. Can you see what I’m getting at?”

Jake eyed her with thoughts he didn’t wish to mention. Regret and guilt mixed with anger the likes of which he’d never quite managed to focus before until now. Slowly, with a stone face of his own, he began to nod.

“I can see what you’re getting at,” he murmured. She smiled at him, assuming they’d reached an understanding.

“Good,” she sipped from her champagne glass. “Let’s start planning Melee 6. Should we switch any of our cast?”
Gabe sat up excitedly.

“I did have some ideas actually, to increase our exposure in the Asian market—“

Fade in on a slow push-in on Jake watching them plotting. His eyes narrowing.


ANGELINA ALTAMONTE             Herself

GABE FROHMAN                   Himself

JAKE                           Himself

DWAYNE JOHNSON                 Nate Hollis

RYAN REYNOLDS                  Brad Stokes

MILLIE MCKENZIE                Angelica Vaughn

JOEY JANELA                    Zack Fantana

CHRIS RIDGEWAY                 Reno Nevada

SHLAK                          Alfie Tenner

JIMMY HAVOC                    Sybyl

COLT CABANA                    Shane Clemmens

MEN IN SUITS                   Themselves

ANGELO SALVATORE               Himself

SECURITY GUARD #1              Himself

SECURITY GUARD #2              Himself

SECURITY GUARD #3              Himself

DEAD MAN                       Himself

PENTAGON JR.                   The BLACKSTAR

MATT RIDDLE                    Brennan Devlin

MERCEDES MARTINEZ              Natalie King


PRODUCER                       Barry Stollman

CONSULTING PRODUCER            Mike Roach

CO-PRODUCER                    Quinn Sanders

SUPERVISING PRODUCER           Brian Chappell

PRODUCERS                      Kevin Murphy
                               Sara Venneti

PRODUCED AND EDITED BY         Barry Stephenson
                               Matt Staller
                               Ryan Holder

SVP OF TALENT RELATIONS        Marty Funkhouser

TALENT PRODUCER                Liza Krouse

TALENT COORDINATOR             Brian Costa

PRODUCTION DESIGNER            Kelly Van Peters

PRODUCTION MANAGER             T.J. McClung

LOCATION MANAGER               Wes Seaton

MUSIC BY                       Franz Saporta

TECHNICAL DIRECTOR             Tom Gillogley

TECHNICAL MANAGER              Jason Pyatte

LIGHTING DIRECTOR              Nathan Koepke

ART DIRECTOR                   Nanci Bates

COSTUME DESIGNER               Grace Nazarian

POST SUPERVISOR                Tim Gunderson

AUDIO SUPERVISOR               Frank Ali

FIELD PRODUCER                 Kevin Ruback

2ND FLOOR PRODUCER             Ken O'Casey

2ND 2ND FLOOR PRODUCER         Megan Cooper

                               John Ditmars
                               Mark Markatos

MAKEUP DEPARTMENT HEAD         Elle Favorule

AUDIENCE PRODUCER              Amanda Geer

SEGMENT PRODUCER               Amanda Keller

                               Fabian Nicieza
                               Mark Pensaville

LEGAL COUNSEL                  Kathryn Pasternack
                               Rebecca Kirshner

CONSULTANT                     Karl Dozier

VP MARKETING                   Dona Carrington

VIDEO CONTROL                  Max Steinberg

TAPE OPERATOR                  Natalie Price

CAMERA OPERATORS               Laurence Velasquez
                               Ken Parrish
                               Phil Ramos
                               Brandon Kidd
                               Gene Dodson
                               Brian Gaines
                               Karin Bradshaw
                               Art Hobbs

AUDIO MIXER                    Stan Hoyte

PA MIXER                       Jimi Bowman

PL TECH                        Alex Fitzpatrick

SOUND EDITOR                   Jamie Levine

COLOR CORRECTION BY            Creative Cow

CAMERA UTILITY                 Dan Chambers
                               Jeremy Cruz
                               Barbara Lowery
                               Paul Church

PROP MASTER                    Maurice Cherry

ART DEPARTMENT BUYER           Marilyn Petty

LEAD CARPENTER                 Jasper Norris

SET CARPENTERS                 Timmy Houston
                               Craig Vang

SET DRESSERS                   Vira McConnell
                               Otto King
                               Emiliano Rasmussen

KEY MAKEUP ARTIST              Victoria Burton

COSTUME SUPERVISOR             Azby Grimes

SET COSTUMERS                  Susana Padilla
                               Michelle Phelps

COSTUME MAKER                  Stephanie Brady

POST COORDINATOR               Francisco Morris

ASSISTANT PC                   Cori Gibbs

ASSISTANT EDITORS              Tim Dickerson
                               Brian Charles
                               JP Murillo

TAPE LIBRARIAN                 Michael McCarty


MUSIC PRODUCER                 Stephen Moon

GAFFER                         Adan Sharp

KEY GRIP                       Daniel Carrillo

BEST BOY GRIP                  Colin Hood

BEST BOY ELECTRIC              Brian Kennedy

GRIPS                          Brendan Beasley
                               Clayton Serrano

LIGHTING TECHNICIANS           Doug Mueller
                               Adam Edwards
                               Nigel Arnold
                               Fritz Kent

LIGHTING PA                    Danny Bartlett

LIGHTING PROGRAMMER            Richard Keller

Accountant                     Mort Feingold

                               Karina Kline

SET MEDICS                     Greg West
                               Carlos Deleon

KEY SET PA                     Destiny Chandler

PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS          Daryl Stewart
                               Sammi Stewart
                               Sean Dalton
                               Jesse Marks
                               Justin Todd
                               Nina Gay
                               Robby Cole
                               Allyssa Lewis
                               Grant Golden
                               Jonathan Duncan
                               Diego Sanchez
                               Robin Christian







The real Shane Clemmens, Sybyl, Alfie Tenner, and Reno Nevada are sitting at the bar. Exhausted and battered, each of their faces are covered in fresh scrapes, stitched-up cuts, and swollen bruises. In the background, WORST DAY SINCE YESTERDAY by FLOGGING MOLLY plays from an unseen jukebox: Well I know, I miss more than hit, With a face that was launched to sink…

SHANE: Gentlemen, I’d like to make a toast.

He raises his whiskey glass. The others respond in kind: Sybyl with a glass of cabernet sauvignon, Reno with a double of Jameson, and Alfie with a pint of lager.

SHANE: Here’s to the hole that never heals…the more I rub it the better it feels!

The four of them laugh and drink and holler. Alfie silences the crew by clearing his throat. He raises his beer mug, and the others followed suit.

ALFIE: Here’s to the girl in the little red shoes. She loves to party and she’ll drink your booze. She lost her cherry, but that ain’t no sin, cuz she’s still got the box it came in!

Another chorus of drunken laughs and swigs follow. Next up is Sybyl. He swirls the wine around his glass.

Sybyl: When we are born, we cry…that we are come to this great stage of fools…

He takes a long sip of his wine. The other three take their own drinks with a bit less enthusiasm. Alfie looks at Sybyl sideways.

ALFIE: Who said that?

SYBYL: King Lear.

Reno let out a long rasbury sound.

RENO: (laughing) What’s the matter, you don’t know any fucking Shakespeare?

SYBYL: Shakespeare wrote King Lear.


Shane leads over the bar to look down at Reno.

SHANE: I thought you went to Harvard, man.

RENO: (admittingly) On scholarship. And I was kicked out for totally bogus reasons. Anyway, LAST BUT NOT LEAST.

The men raise their glasses.

RENO: (in an Irish accent) D’ere once was a fella named McSweeny who spilled some gin on ‘is weenie. Jus ta’ be couth, he ‘added vermouth…then slipped ‘is girl a martini!

The celebration continues. Drinks are downed and laughs are shared. Reno finishes his and motions for a refill. The bartender is a fat man named Dooley with an oversized handlebar moustache and bald head. He grabs the Jameson from the back shelf and pours a couple fingers of liquor in the glass.

DOOLEY: You did Southie proud tonight, Reno. No need to feel bad about it. You’ll get em next time.

RENO: What the fuck you mean, Dools?

DOOLEY: Your wrestling match. Your buddy here beat you. I’m just saying, you’ll get em next time, is all.

RENO: Wrestling? What the fuck were you watching Dooley? We had a street fight three blocks from here and I fucking won.

DOOLEY: Fight 2 Win. We watched it in the bar. I got the Netflix now.

RENO: Put it on.

Dooley found the remote and turned the overhead flat screen television from the local channel to the Netflix app. After a couple button presses, the latest episode of F2W’s Melee loads on the screen.

RENO: Fast forward. Who even watches this bullshit between the matches?

ALFIE: I was just saying that to someone the other day. I just skip to the fighting.

RENO: There—stop.

Dooley hits play. The video starts in the middle of a match a wrestling ring. Four men are fighting it out, punching and drop kicking each other around the squared circle.

RENO: What the fuck is this shit…

SHANE: (suddenly paying attention) Hey, is that Cold Cabana?

Dooley looks from Shane to the TV and back to Shane.

DOOLEY: That’s you.

RENO: Fucking DOOLS. They don’t REMOTELY look alike. Shane Clemmens looks like a young Robert Redford high on 8-Balls.

SHANE: Nice.

RENO: That imposter on TV looks like a if the fat kid from Goonies grew up and stayed fat.

Alfie perks up on his stool and points as his on-screen character jackknife powerbombs Colt-Cabana-Shane-Clemmens on the mat and gets the pinfall. The bell rings on the television.

ALFIE: Look at that, mates. I won!

RENO: This is some fucked up shit, boyos.

SYBYL: Why did we just beat eachother up outside a liquor store in Boston for if this was what they were going to show people?

SHANE: We did it for the pussy.

Alfie looks around, then at Shane.

ALFIE: There ain’t nothin but swingin’ dicks in here. There’s a guy over there literally dressed like the Gorton's fisherman.

SHANE: Yeah. We should have went to the Applebee’s. DTF bitches hang at Applebee’s.

Reno slams a hand on the bar.

RENO: GOD DAMNIT. I hate these people. I HATE EM.


RENO: The people who run this fucking promotion. First, I have a guy implant a fucking bomb in my neck—

SHANE: A bomb? Let me see!

RENO: —and then that Angelina hoe doesn’t even fucking show our fucking fight. We tore a liquor store apart and fought in the middle of a god damn rotary! I hit Alfie over the head with a bottle of Jager!

ALFIE: That’s right!

RENO: That could have killed him! And they don’t even show it.

SYBYL: Yeah but what are we supposed to do about it?

Shane Clemmens stands up. The feet of his barstool squeak on the floor. He takes the sunglasses hanging from his shirt collar and flips them open.

SHANE: When someone fucks you—

He slides the sunglasses on and continues.

SHANE: —you fuck harder.

FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 6 Opt-In Thread
« on: January 28, 2018, 07:25:21 AM »
This is where you reply to the thread with a simple "I'm in" or something to that effect in order to be booked for the next episode of Melee.

The purpose for an opt-in thread rather than just booking people is because many of you have busy lives and may not have time a certain month; or, want the option of a month off. Also, some folks opt-in and don't show which makes it easier to sift them out rather than booking people and have them no show after someone wrote a match involving them.

It saves time.

It's also like a head count.

If you want to be booked, whether an active member of the roster or want to give Fight 2 Win a shot, reply below!

Please reply before January 31st.

FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 5 Segment Sign-up Form
« on: January 12, 2018, 10:46:25 AM »
Sign up for an open slot, or if one isn't open we'll make another one!

If you'd like to write a match let me know.

Introduction - Staff

Angelica Vaughn Vs. Zack Fantana

Segment Slot - Alfie Tenner

Reno Nevada  Vs. Alfie Tenner  Vs. Sybyl  Vs. Shane Clemmens

Segment Slot - Open

The Blackstar  Vs. Brennan Devlin  Vs. Natalie King

Segment Slot - Open

Epilogue - Staff

« on: January 01, 2018, 10:17:27 AM »

Role-Play and Segment Deadline: Sunday January 28, 2018 at 7:00 AM EST
Show Will Be Posted on or By January 31, 2018

Maximum of 3 RPs Per Character.
Maximum of 4,000 words Per RP.

OPENING MATCH: To Be Held at Zack Fantana's Bobby Franchise Center for At-Risk Youth in Pittsburgh.

Angelica Vaughn (1-2) Vs. Zack Fantana (2-1)


Reno Nevada (0-0) Vs. Alfie Tenner (1-3) Vs. Sybyl (0-0) Vs. Shane Clemmens (1-0)

MAIN EVENT: To Be Held At The Old Whale (Natalie King's Fight Venue)
For the Melee Championship

The Blackstar (2-1) Vs. Brennan Devlin (2-1) Vs. Natalie King [c] (4-0).

Card Finalized


MELEE EPISODES / Melee 4 - The Best Laid Plans
« on: December 30, 2017, 10:33:21 PM »
She seemed to tower there at the podium, looking over those in the audience.

"Thanks to the opportune employment of an insurance policy covering the premises and equipment destroyed in last month's hijacking by the Scientologists, as well as the lucky financial investment of some of our silent partners, Fight 2 Win officially has enough money to ensure that construction crews break ground on the first of December for what will be the Fight 2 Win specialty sports complex."

“And pause.”

Angelina Altamonte’s face suddenly froze in place, and slowly the camera pulled out to reveal her face paused on a large projector screen which was mounted on a wall.

“And there you have it, ladies and gentleman.”

Francis Ford Cuppola stood at the head of the long meeting table bathed in sterile bluish light emanating from high up in the ceiling, the oversized screen behind him stuck on the freeze frame of Ms. Altamonte, the room itself dark and ominous threatening just about anything hiding in the shadows, and Francis looked around at those seated with an expression of sinister potential.

A beat of him staring blankly at those around the table before Rodney, Francis’ perennially annoyed assistant, cleared his throat, summoning Francis back to wakefulness.

“And there you have it, Ladies and gentleman.” Francis nodded confidently, pressing up from the table to stand straight like he’d cracked the case wide open.

Another beat.


Francis was startled by the voice at the other side of the table.

“Excuse me?”

“What do we have?” Thirteen eyed him from across the table.

“All right, that’s enough, Thirteen,” he pointed sternly at her. Thirteen frowned at the usual coarse discord of a Francis-led meeting. He began to pace with purpose.

“A true detective, like myself, knows the facts like the back of his hands, and it is the FACTS that will set us free, and help me get my company back.” Francis smirked condescendingly, stopping his pacing to eye the assembly gathered around the table as if ensuring they were following with him. And then he went back to pacing.

“So. This is what we know:  FACT.” He smacked his hands together loudly, the sound of skin on skin reverberating off the walls. “Fight 2 Win is in fact a company owned by my nemesis and former lover Angela Almondine.”

“Francis.” Rodney said with obvious annoyance.

“Not now, Rod,” Francis shot back quickly then continued, “FACT, Andalusia Altamonte does in fact own Fight 2 Win.”

You could hear Rodney inhaling sharply in disbelief. Another meeting, another Francis derailment. Francis continued.

 “FACT,” his hands smacked together triumphantly as his case-solving momentum grew, “If you take a close look at her picture behind me, or turn to page 17 of the handout, you will see that her HEAD is three times larger than it used to be.” He stopped and turned to the assembly like the teacher at the head of the class, “And that can’t be good for anybody.”

“Oh god.” Rodney cupped his head into his hand and inhaled a steady breath of unwillingness to halt Francis’ trajectory as Francis turned and surveyed the still-frame image of Angelina Altamonte with scientific scrutiny.

“It’s all out of proportion,” Francis decided to himself.

“Francis, can you just get to the--” Rodney interrupted, before Francis SMACKED his hands together once more, glaring at Rodney snidely.

“FACT: Ariadne Altavista, in conjunction with the people from the inner dimension, funded by the Rand Corporation, in concert with the fine folks at High Liner Fishsticks have kidnapped--”


Startled, Francis looked above him for the voice of god.


Francis stepped back toward the table with stunning efficiency, aiming his finger into Kassandrah’s face and barked officiously, “What’d you just say?”

Kassandrah shook her head with confusion. “I said, ‘Francis’.”

Francis eyed her suspiciously. A beat. Then spoke over his shoulder to Rodney. “Make a note of that, Rod.”

From the other side of the table, Rodney stared in deflated disbelief as Francis resumed his problem-solving pace.

“If I seem a little paranoid, friends, it's because, from the evidence I have listed, as well as some well-placed tips from my new number one guy, Jake,” Francis nodded to the innocent-looking Jake in the seat beside his as he sat down at the head of the table smiling warmly to everyone before continuing, “That our Ms. Albatross plans to remove me from the picture entirely, likely with a vat of hydrochloric acid and possibly snakes, in order to prevent me from taking my rightful control of Fight 2 Win. Isn’t that right, Jake?”

His warm smile directed the attention of the table to Jake who looked momentarily uncomfortable.

“Well, I--”

“That’s great, son.” Francis clapped him hard on the back and shook him. “Proud of you.”

 The other eyes around the table, Mister Mississagi, The French Mime Assassins, Rodney, Kassandrah and Thirteen, as well as two other individuals watched with confusion until,

“Francis?” Kassandrah’s voice startled Francis from his silent admiration from his new golden boy to eye her like he’d just noticed her for the first time.

A beat. Then Kassandrah added, “I’m afraid you could be right.”

“Really?” Francis softened, appreciating himself a moment.

“Afraid so. I have reason to believe that Angelina Altamonte has successfully infiltrated our little group in order to bring it down from the inside.”

“Amazing.” Francis shook his head, unable to contain his admiration of the skills of his opponent, “She’s always one step ahead, isn’t she?”

“Not if we know what her plans are before she, or her mole, gets the chance to--”

“That’s enough, Thirteen.” Francis pointed across the table at her sternly, then shook his head with a dismissive chuckle, preventing Thirteen from continuing her sentence. Francis continued instead. “I’m not worried in the slightest about Ms. Aldente, my friends. No sirreee, with my keen perception and deft skill at recognizing even the slightest changes in--who the hell are they!?”

Pull-out from Francis’ stunned and bewildered expression to a wide shot of the table, racking focus to the two as yet unintroduced members of the group.

“Uh, Francis this is someone who’s been helping me investigate Ms. Altamonte,” Kassandrah chimed in, presenting the mysterious masked man seated beside her with eyes gazing at him as though into Francis’ soul. “His name is Sybyl.”

Francis struck a contemplative philosopher's pose; hand on chin, one eyebrow raised while he scrutinized the newcomer.

A beat.

“Does he plan to keep his haircut like that?”

“Uhhhh--” Kass looked confused from Francis to Sybyl.

“Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter.” Francis waved it off. Kass frowned.

“Don’t you want to know why he wears a mask, or where you’ve seen him from, or--”

“I’d assume,” Francis added, half-annoyed, “he wears a mask to draw attention away from his haircut.”

Kass eyed Francis with a bewildered stare. Francis chuckled and shook his head, like how could she dare question his detective skills at this point.

“Oh my god who’s that?” Francis started once more, this time sighting the man seated beside Rodney.

Rodney sighed, “This is Reno Nevada.” Rodney presented the slick and cool-looking customer  beside him as Francis stared at him with wonder. “He’s agreed to help us with--”

“This is amazing…” Francis eyed Reno profoundly. “I… had a turtle named Reno Nevada.”

“I’m sorry?” Rodney blinked.

"He was a Red-Eared Slider..." Francis' voice trailed off into some sort of flashback, until--

A loud snore cut through the moment. All eyes turned to Reno. He was slumped in his chair, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark tinted Raybans.

Francis blinked away a tear and said, "He sleeps just like my turtle..."

Rodney added apologetically, "Of course he’s not sleeping, Francis," and shoved his elbow into Reno's arm.

Reno startled awake. He mumbled out, "Sheesa fawkin skeezah, guy," as he shot up into his chair. He was all awkward as he pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair.

"EXACTLY," Francis shouted and pointed at Reno. "This guy gets it." He looked around the room. "There’s a lot going on around here I don’t like, people. And it’s all, undoubtedly part of Ms. Arashadnay’s plans to destroy me so I can’t get my company back.”


“No. Don't think for a second any of you will get away with me for I see everything. And yet... I see nothing.” Again he began pacing, his tone more calculated.  “So then this is what we know: People’s heads are growing three times the size of their bodies; moles are trying to destroy me; we have a man who wears a mask to cover his haircut; another man who has named himself after one of my dead turtles; and Thirteen keeps thinking she can contribute to the meeting. Have I missed anything?”


“That’s enough, Thirteen.”

Francis glared at her as she half-pouted at the end of the table.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Francis glared at those seated. Slowly, his eyes turned confident once more. “Don’t for a second think I don’t see what’s going on here with all these disruptions threatening to veer me from my stated goal. This sly minx Altagadadendo is trying to destroy me. Mark my words. One of you, perhaps ALL of you, has clearly turned to the dark side and is the mole working for my enemy, feeding her information in order to ruin my plans to ruin her plans. BUT! That’s why I have a fail-safe.”

Francis smirked. A motorized sound rose up from the table as slots opened in front of each individual and plates with loaves of baked bread appeared.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Francis connived, “try and lie to me now.”

They all looked down at their plates with a single loaf of uncut bread on it and blinked. Jake lifted a bread knife and fork and began to slice into his bread before Francis scolded him.

“Ut ut ut. No one may touch them. Well, maybe you, Jake, but NO ONE ELSE MAY TOUCH THE BREAD.”

“Francis, what is this?” Rodney asked. Francis rolled his eyes.

“Haven’t you ever been to communion?” Francis shook his head in disgusted annoyance with the lot of them. “Heathens, what you have before you is only the body of our lord and savior Jesus Christ thank you very much, ladies and gentleman. Is that so hard to understand?” He eyed them as they slowly exchanged glances, then eyed the loaves of bread before them. “Try and lie in its presence. You can’t. The bread won’t let you!”

“This is insane,” Rodney mumbled under his breath.

“What?! What did you just say?!” Francis stirred suddenly towards Rodney looking threatening.

“I said, ‘this is insane’.”

“So you say,” Francis looked at him suspiciously. “Make a note of that, Thirteen.” He began pacing.


“That’s enough, Thirteen.” She looked flustered at him before Rodney cut through the bullshit.

“Look, Francis, we have a plan.”

“Oh really?” Francis’ suspicion grew. Rodney continued,

 “Yes. There’s a lot to be suspicious of, but we can’t allow ourselves to lose sight of the fact that Altamonte is clearly not on the level. Stadium’s cost a lot more money than she could get from an insurance settlement.”

“She said she's got outside backers.” Kass added.

“Of course, but who?” Thirteen chimed in.

“That’s what we need to find out. Follow the money. My bet is her financial backers aren’t above board. We can’t get bogged down in some mole hunt.” Rodney finished.

“Ut! Ut! Ut! I’m in charge here! This is exactly what happened back in 'nam. No one listened to me, and now everybody's dead!” Francis spoke up. Thirteen, Kass and Rodney eyed Francis bemusedly.

“Okay. So what do you think we should do?” Rodney asked, sarcastically.

Francis scratched his neck.

“I, uh… I think what you’re suggesting sounds fine. In fact, shortly before I had the mimes bake this Jesus bread, Jake was saying something about laundered money, isn’t that right, Jake?”

“That’s right, Mister Cuppola. I know exactly where to locate proof that will blow this whole thing wide open.”

Francis smiled proudly at Jake. “Please… call me ‘Papa’.”

“O--Okay…” Jake stammered.

“Great, so it’s settled.” Francis clasped his hands together. “Jake and I, and--” His eyes hung on the expectant French Mime Assassins and Mister Mississagi before, “--that’s it. Just Jake and I will investigate this laundry money, good work Jake, while the rest of you stay here and try not to screw this up for me.”

Rodney inhaled pensively.

“Right,” he stated. “We’ll try not to get in the way.”

“And hopefully, if there is a mole,” Thirteen added eyeing Francis wary of another interruption, “they won’t tip Angelina Altamonte off about our plans.”

Francis was half way out the cavernous hall before he stopped. “Damn that’s right. We just gave our plans away to the mole.”

They watched as Francis wracked his brain.

“Alright. Everyone? Forget everything we just talked about, okay?”

Rodney glared at him.

“Done?” Francis asked innocently. “Good. You all have your tasks. Synchronize your watches. By the end of this episode of Melee conveniently being filmed over the span of time it’ll take Jake and I get to the laundry place, I shall have Fight 2 Win in my control!”

And with that Francis and his team stormed out leaving the rest there to eye one another conspiratorially.
Cue the most spectacularly exciting incidental music to open this episode of Melee!

Bum-Bum! Da-da-da-dum-dum-DINK! Bum-Bum! Da-da-da-dum-dum-DINK!

Underground, in the specially situated secret broadcast bunker furnished with state-of-the-art plasma television screens broadcasting images from trail cams and overhead drone shots from around the world, as well as the desk behind which sits Nate Hollis!

NATE HOLLIS: Good evening! Or Good morning! I can’t tell which! Welcome to Melee 4! We are broadcasting to you from our secret bomb shelter, and don’t let our extreme isolation lull you into believing we’re still not capable of bringing you the best fighting action the world over.

Brad Stokes wanders into the shot wearing a blue fleecy bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, mussed hair, and a toothbrush in his mouth He just woke up.

NATE HOLLIS: Whoa… Brad Stokes, ladies and gentleman!

Hazy Brad Stokes blinks the sleep from his eyes and looks at Nate and then at the camera whose red recording light is on.

BRAD STOKES: What the hell… What time is it…?

NATE HOLLIS: I have no idea, Brad, they took my watch, something about the magnets underground or something, but I do know it’s time for MELEE 4!

Tired Brad is unhappy.

BRAD STOKES: Where the hell is the sun? What’s going on? How long have we been in this bomb shelter?

NATE HOLLIS: Considering we are now taping Melee 4, after we were sequestered here in this bomb shelter on Melee 3 for our own safety to stave off a Scientology attack, I’d reckon we’ve been down here at least a month.

Brad spits toothpaste out of his mouth in shock.

BRAD STOKES: A month!? Has Christmas happened yet? What the hell year is this? What’s going on? Why hasn’t anyone come and gotten us out?

--Brief cut to the original Fight 2 Win broadcast booth on a soundstage in F2W office space in New York city where Barry, one of the show’s producers, is watching the feed from the bomb shelter and shakes his head.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: I knew we forgot something.

--Back to the underground bomb shelter--

BRAD STOKES: I can’t believe this.

Brad has sullenly slumped down in the broadcast chair next to Nate Hollis.

NATE HOLLIS: It’s not that bad. We’re alive, right? We still get to bring the F2W Faithful the matches they love, with the commentary they adore! We have enough food down here to last us and the crew at least five years.

BRAD STOKES: Five years?! What the fuck! It’s like we exist solely to do this stupid show? I just met my family, Nate. I have been missing from their lives for at least twenty years. And now since I’ve been in this bomb shelter, FORGOTTEN, I missed the first Stokes family Christmas. This is bullshit.

NATE HOLLIS: They’ll get over it. They’ve had years of experience of you not being around. Besides, we have a job to do. Fight fans tonight is no different regardless of the status of the commentary team.

BRAD STOKES: We’ve been trapped underground for a month, Nate. Isn't anyone looking for us?

NATE HOLLIS: No! And what a month it has been!

BRAD STOKES: Ah, dammit. I need to go get changed.

Brad wanders offscreen, his fuzzy slippers dragging along the floor. Now that you mention it, Nate does look a little strung out. He sips liberally from an oversized mug of coffee.

NATE HOLLIS:  After the events of Melee 3, on which it was announced that we now have enough cash to begin construction on a new stadium that promises to house all future F2W events, as well as a secret initiative to prevent further hijacking of our broadcasts by holing us up in an underground bomb shelter, I guess, for the foreseeable future, we are set to end the year with a bang! A bang… called Melee 4!

Brad wanders back onto the set wearing his trademark jeans and leather jacket and classic haircut and sunglasses, still wearing his fuzzy slippers. He sits down beside Nate Hollis.

BRAD STOKES: Gonna be huge, Nate. Like the new years ball falling in Times Square, which neither of us will get to see since we’re stuck underground like common rock trolls.

NATE HOLLIS: That’s right! Tonight we are going to witness two fresh-faced debuts to the Fight 2 Win roster, although neither could be truly declared to be rookies to this sport, when Gurgen Hovhanissian and Shane Clemmens square off in the wolf cage at the Yerevan Zoo in Armenia.

BRAD STOKES: Clemmens. Clemmens. I know that name. Wasn't there a Samuel Clemmens who used to write novels, Nate?

NATE HOLLIS: Possibly. But I'm talking about Shane Clemmens, the older brother to Dare Clemmens, former Resilience Champion of the AWE, and something of a hallowed name among those who recognize it. As well, his opponent is no stranger to the combat arts, either,nor to making a name for himself. The Canadian Champion of the UWE, The Armenian Beast, Gurgen Hovhanissian, will make our opening match a surefire barn burner guaranteed to establish two top-tier talents here in Fight 2 Win!

BRAD STOKES: Loving the fact you’re so chipper considering the circumstances.

NATE HOLLIS: I make the most of any circumstance, much like 5 members of the Fight 2 Win roster will have to do when Zack Fantana, Starlight, Brennan Devlin, Angelica Vaughn and Adam Wolfe fight at an undisclosed location in a Last Man Standing Match.

BRAD STOKES: Last ONE Standing Match. Says right here on the match card, idiot.

NATE HOLLIS: Fair enough! Any one of these five competitors could survive in what could be a straight-forward match venue… or something completely unorthodox and unexpected! We will find out later on!

BRAD STOKES: I’m hoping they fight underwater in a shark cage, Nate. I’ve been trapped underground too long. I’m going batty. Need to see someone die.

NATE HOLLIS: And you just might, Brad! To top off this night of astonishment we have Natalie King set to defend her Melee Championship once more in a match that brings her full circle right back to the first episode of Melee when she meets Alfie Tenner in his Carny Pro Warehouse!

BRAD STOKES: Gonna be a low-energy rager. On our end, I mean. I’ve been eating these lembas wafers to keep my strength up during this period of intense isolation, locked down here with a man I hate, and a film crew I despise, talking to the spirits of all the people who have died down here who are telling me to kill everyone.

NATE HOLLIS: What 'lembas wafer'?

BRAD STOKES: Aw, dammit. What have I been eating?

NATE HOLLIS: Given all you just said, I couldn’t hazard a guess! Without further fanfare or unfortunate early reveals, let’s go now to our first match!

Cue a stunning overhead drone shot of an Armenian countryside whizzing by till the drone’s pace slows to a lovely crane shot over the Yerevan Zoo where a rather immense crowd has gathered inside of a freshly constructed bleacher system.

The scene cuts to angles on the ground, with shots of the faces of excited attendees intercut with brief clips of animals inside the zoo. An elephant, then cut to Grygor from Garni, some snow leopards, then Marta and Olga all the way Gyumri.

BRAD STOKES: Where is this?


BRAD STOKES: Where is that?

NATE HOLLIS: Near Georgia.

BRAD STOKES: I love Georgia! Great vacation spot.

NATE HOLLIS: It’s also right next to Azerbaijan.

BRAD STOKES: What the fuck, Nate…

“Lapdance” by N.E.R.D starts in over the Zoo’s speaker systems. Clips of hyenas behind bars, orangutans uncertain of the music as Pharrell whispers “I’m a Dirty Dog” out over the opening riffs.

NATE HOLLIS: Here comes a bad man right here.

Shane Clemmens enters the main zoo area out of a double-door in a white tank top and black sweats, still smoking a cigarette. He makes his way past the crowd of fans who cheer to see him on his way to the wolf pen with a straw floor. A zookeeper plucks the cigarette from Shane’s lips as he rolls his neck and steps inside the wolf pen.

BRAD STOKES: Where are the wolves?

NATE HOLLIS: Likely set aside for this fight. Oh, wait, no they’ve just been moved to a seperate closed-off part of the cage. You can see them in another sealed off pen.

BRAD STOKES: If someone doesn’t get eaten in this zoo tonight, Nate, will any of this have been worth it?

The opening harmonics of “Suite Pee” by System of a Down interrupt the near-midpoint of N.E.R.D’s “Lapdance” and kick into overdrive to the excitement of the mostly Armenian-native crowd! Through nearby double doors in the wolf den comes Gurgen Hovhanissian without a shirt, eyeing Shane Clemmens intently as he joins him within the spacious wolf den cage.

NATE HOLLIS: And there, folks, comes another bad man.

BRAD STOKES: Did… did you see something crawl out of his beard?

NATE HOLLIS: I don’t think so.

BRAD STOKES: Oh god. What did I eat…?

There’s the sound of a ring bell reverberating across the open-space of the zoo, and a smile flashes on Gurgen’s lips partially obscured by his beard. Gurgen eyes Shane Clemmens who rolls his neck and Gurgen moves in swinging a strong right hand that Shane dodges and moves away from.

NATE HOLLIS: An interesting match up here, fight fans. The Beast has the height and weight advantage, but may lack some of the conditioning and technical skill of Shane Clemmens.

BRAD STOKES: One good hit is all it takes. Trust me, I know. Think I just dropped acid from the 1950s.

The Beast doesn’t seem discouraged at his missed punch. Clemmens moves his feet, and keeps on his toes through the straw floor of the wolf pen as Gurgen swings another fist that Clemmens dodges once more with a smirk.

BRAD STOKES: Boooooooring.

NATE HOLLIS: This is just the warm-ups, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: How about I warm-up your face, huh?

NATE HOLLIS: Gear down, big rig.

BRAD STOKES: What the hell does that even mean?

Gurgen swings another shot for Shane who dodges once more and gives a little sidekick into Gurgen’s ribs to taunt him. But Gurgen throws out all pretense and rushes Clemmens unexpectedly, suddenly cornering him in the cage and SLAMMING his shoulder into Shane’s midsection and ramming Clemmens’ back against the steel bars.

BRAD STOKES: That’s more like it!

Gurgen sends a series of shoulder thrusts into Shane’s midsection before The Dirty Dog gathers his fists together in a double axe-handle and brings it down into Gurgen’s back with enough force to reel Gurgen back up to his full height and quickly encircle Clemmens in both arms and belly-to-belly Clemmens suddenly across the pen into a pile of straw!

NATE HOLLIS: A lot of strength at play there!

Clemmens gathers his knees under him in time to watch Gurgen move for him and grasp him by the throat to lift him up to his feet and CHOKESLAM Clemmens back down into the straw and concrete floor of the wolf pen!

BRAD STOKES: And the crowd goes wild!

NATE HOLLIS: Gurgen Hovhanissian is making the hometown crowd proud!

BRAD STOKES: You mean the wolves or the people?

NATE HOLLIS: All of them. I consider all animals people.

BRAD STOKES: Get your democratic hippie bullshit out of here! I won’t stand for it.

Gurgen reaches down once more only to get a fist to his jaw for his trouble. Clemmens rises to his feet and spits out onto the floor before slamming a spinning heel kick into Gurgen’s jaw that knocks the Armenian Beast sideways! Shane doesn’t miss a beat knocking a standing thrust kick up into Gurgen’s throat the Beast was not expecting and it knocks him back against the bars of the wolf pen. Shane follows up with a knee thrust but finds his momentum halted with Gurgen blocking the knee with his forearms and thrusting Shane backwards, gains enough distance then slams a fierce headbutt off Shane’s jaw that knocks Clemmens backward and Gurgen impresses as he rushes a few feet then slams a dropkick that drops Clemmens to the ground!

NATE HOLLIS: Things are heating up inside that wolf pen!

BRAD STOKES: I just want to see them break through the wolf pen into the den of wolves and see someone eaten, is that asking too much?

NATE HOLLIS: Yes. Yes it is. It doesn’t work that way.

BRAD STOKES: Where are those Lembas wafers.


BRAD STOKES: Hell yes. If it’s not going to happen for real, at least let it happen in my mind.

Gurgen grips Clemmens up by the scruff of the neck expecting to pull him up easily, instead winds up with a face full of straw and nothing in his grasp.

NATE HOLLIS: Clemmens is by no means easy pickings.

BRAD STOKES: Remember Slim Pickens?

NATE HOLLIS: Actor, right?

BRAD STOKES: You damn right.

NATE HOLLIS: Excellent contribution to the match, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: That’s what I’m here for.

Clemmens has set to work slamming a series of punches to back Gurgen into the lone concrete backed wall in the pen, then gripped a set of the bars overhead and swung his feet into Gurgen’s chest only for the Beast to duck and Clemmens’ feet stop against the wall and Gurgen to get in behind Clemmens and once more wrap his arms around Clemmens’ midsection and SLAM him down into the ground with a belly to back!

NATE HOLLIS: A slight bridge there, but I’m not so sure a pin is going to happen here.

BRAD STOKES: They couldn’t even get a referee into that zoo, Nate. You know what that means, don’t you?!

NATE HOLLIS: It means this isn’t going to be moderated by a properly trained and licensed official?



BRAD STOKES: I don’t care.

Gurgen heaves Clemmens back up, still clenching his arms around his midsection only Shane slams the back of his head into the bridge of Gurgen’s nose and that’s enough for the big man to relinquish his grasp and stagger backward. Clemmens turns to face him with a smirk that implies it’ll take an awful lot more to take the veteran down, and lets loose a stunning crane kick that blasts Gurgen backwards into the closed door to the Wolf Pen! Clemmens grits his teeth, squares his stance and rushes Gurgen with a high impact gore that SLAMS the wolf pen door right off its hinges and the two men skid out onto the concrete pathway of the zoo proper! And the crowd is on its feet!


NATE HOLLIS: That was a lot of force, Brad. That would happen anywhere.

BRAD STOKES: Somebodies getting sued. They better hope none of the other animals are taking notes or this won’t be an isolated incident.

Gurgen attempts to rise up but Shane goes for some mounted punches, slamming blow after blow into Gurgen’s face, even slamming some elbows down into Gurgen’s face and chest before The Beast locks Shane’s arms and slams another headbutt into Clemmens!

BRAD STOKES: I see blood, Nate!

NATE HOLLIS: Indeed you do, but we’re not sure whose!

Gurgen takes control as he rises up, still trapping Clemmens’ arms and slamming another headbutt into Shane’s face before sending him flying with a painful looking skid across the zoo concrete!

NATE HOLLIS: This match has taken an unexpected turn, folks! They’re out of the wolf pen and--

BRAD STOKES: On their way to fight among the Zebra!

NATE HOLLIS: Hard to say where this will end, or how.

BRAD STOKES: Don’t spoil my fantasy, Nate.

Gurgen stalks Shane Clemmens who’s seen the wrong side of those suplexes and is slow to rise to all fours. Gurgen reaches him and drops an axe-handle down into Shane’s spine, planting Shane back to the ground. Gurgen once more grips Clemmens around the midsection and heaves him up with a toss back towards the wolf pen that Shane manages counter by gaining his footing. Gurgen rushes him again but this time Shane drops backward and monkey flips Gurgen up and over sending The Beast sliding back towards the opening to the wolf pen! As Gurgen drives himself back to his feet Clemmens impressively charges, leaps, and SLAMS a jumping spin kick that slams into Gurgen’s chest and knocks him into the outside bars of the wolf pen.

BRAD STOKES: This kung fu bullshit needs to stop.

NATE HOLLIS: Shane Clemmens is one of the best there is, and you’re ragging on his fighting style?

BRAD STOKES: Give me Dare Clemmens, or go to hell. Shane Clemmens is like… your mother’s Clemmens. The lesser Clemmens.

Shane has Gurgen against the bars and is slamming rights and lefts into Gurgen’s chest with enough force and tenacity to down the Beast. But not for long! Much to Shane’s surprise, Gurgen is up to his feet, deflecting on of Clemmens’ blows and using his momentum to drive Shane’s face hard off the bars, stunning Clemmens! Gurgen angrily knees Shane in the ribs and whips back into the wolf pen!

NATE HOLLIS: The Beast indeed!

Gurgen follows Shane in to the wolf pen.

NATE HOLLIS: Not looking good for Shane Clemmens here.

BRAD STOKES: If he dies, another Clemmens takes his place, right?

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure…

Gurgen affixes the pen door back onto its hinges, finding it doesn’t stay, and opts to instead lean it in the doorway then turns back to Shane who is slow to stir laying face down on the straw and cement. Gurgen cracks his knuckles and gives his beard a casual stroke before being met with a back kick from Clemmens that doubles Gurgen over.

NATE HOLLIS: Nice stiff kick to the midsection from Shane Clemmens, and he is not done yet!

Gurgen recovers, standing up straight only to be met with another kick to the midsection, that one enough the stagger the Beast backward and give Shane room to get back to his feet sporting a bloody lip and a bloody nose, blood staining a portion of Gurgen’s beard as Shane zeroes in, looking to be getting a second wind only to be met with a stiff kick to his sternum from Gurgen!

NATE HOLLIS: Gurgen’s illustrating a level of endurance and resilience I don’t think anyone expected out of him.

BRAD STOKES: Probably on drugs.

NATE HOLLIS: I think the term you’re referring to is ‘wodka’.

Both men are doubled over, stunned and attempting a recuperation. Shane, clearly winded, rises up and slams a rising knee into Gurgen’s chin and knocks him backward. Gurgen retaliates with an elbow and soon they’re trading blows Clemmens comes out the better of after blocking one of Gurgen’s hard rights and spinning into a backfist that sends Gurgen straining into the propped up, busted cell door. Clemmens moves in only to find Gurgen wrenching the door up and swinging it back to slam into his side and knocking him across the straw floor. Gurgen relentlessly rushes Clemmens, wielding the barred door and pinning Clemmens’ back against one set of bars, and pressing the door against him!

NATE HOLLIS: Gurgen has Clemmens pinned now!

Gurgen presses his weight into the pen door in a crushing display of power that has Clemmens looking ready to drop and then Gurgen slams kicks into the door to apply further pressure and sandwich Shane painfully between the two sets of bars to the point of collapse!

BRAD STOKES: He’s going to kill him! FINALLY!

Gurgen peels the metal bar door away from Shane and watches Clemmens drop nigh-lifelessly to the ground.

CLANG goes the pen door. Gurgen towers over the fallen Clemmens and drops down to his knees, linking his fingers through his beard, setting up the mandible claw only to be met with a fierce elbow from Shane Clemmens right into Gurgen’s jaw!

NATE HOLLIS: Stunning elbow right there! Somehow Shane Clemmens is not done!

BRAD STOKES: This is the time when any other commentator would call out with exasperation, ‘WHAT’S IT GOING TO TAKE’? WELL NOT ME, NATE! NOT TODAY!

NATE HOLLIS: What is wrong with you?

BRAD STOKES: I’m high on something and I’ve been trapped underground for a month and I REALLY want to go to the Yerevan Zoo right now, dammit.

Shane Clemmens still wields that shit-eating grin as he lifts his face to glare at Gurgen who, though stunned, recognizes the fight still left in his opponent. It’s a brief moment of exchanged glares before Shane Clemmens turtles over onto his back, collects his feet and SLAMS them into Gurgen’s jaw, knocking The Beast backward onto his back.

NATE HOLLIS: That’s one of the few times Gurgen’s actually been downed.

BRAD STOKES: He IS the Beast, Nate.

Shane Clemmens roars to angry life sending a series of kicks into Gurgen’s side to keep the beast grounded before Clemmens grips the barred door he was previously being crushed with and begins to slam it down hard into Gurgen’s midsection!

NATE HOLLIS: This fight has defied all convention from the minute it was booked! A man from Armenia returns home to a heroes welcome only to demand to fight in the zoo against a man who’s legend has clearly not betrayed him!

BRAD STOKES: Your hard-on is showing, dick.

Clemmens violently slams the cell door down onto Gurgen before The Beast stuns Clemmens by gripping the door before it connects once more and FORCES the door upwards off him with surprising might. Gurgen uses all that strength to slam the door off Shane and send Clemmens staggering once more!

NATE HOLLIS: Brutal array of force there from Gurgen Hovhanissian!

The Beast stumbles back up to his feet and shakes off the pain in his ribcage and approaches Clemmens, swinging a fierce lariat Shane catches and swings into a gory bomb clutch, inverts it, and then SLAMS Gurgen down with a scoop brain buster!


BRAD STOKES: *snorts* That's what I just called you *snickers* 'Dick'. *chortle*

Clemmens stumbles, backward, eyeing Gurgen with all the energy of a stone at this point as Gurgen barely moves.


BRAD STOKES: Quit yelling!

There’s no official present, at least not one Fight 2 Win sanctioned, but the impact alone seems to have downed Gurgen for the long-term. The Beast is breathing but not stirring as Shane Clemmens spits out blood onto the straw floor and eyes around clearly winded, still ready, but optimistic.

NATE HOLLIS: This could be our first knock out!

Clemmens exhales relief but not before seeing Gurgen lift a shoulder, and slowly crane his head up to eye Clemmens.

BRAD STOKES: He’s not done!

Gurgen has blood trailing down his beard from his nose, clearly stunned but by no means finished. Clemmens eyes him with a mixture of exhaustion of his own and a desire to put an end to The Beast. As Gurgen wrestles back to his knees, Clemmens isn’t standing on ceremony. He rushes Gurgen and slams a knee right up into Gurgen’s chin that once more downs the Beast to the straw floor!

NATE HOLLIS: Clemmens needs to end this!

Clemmens mounts him where he lays and begins slamming fist after fist into Gurgen before The Beast slams a meaty hand into Shane’s head and plows him off of him!

BRAD STOKES: Amazing. Unbelievable!

NATE HOLLIS: Truly! The Beast is clinging to an inch of his life and STILL continues!

BRAD STOKES: What? Oh. Yeah. That’s great. Talking about the tracers I’m seeing with my hand right now.

NATE HOLLIS: Your contributions are invaluable, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Thanks, Nature Boy.

NATE HOLLIS: What did you call me?


Clemmens rises to his feet, Gurgen is climbing up to his as well and the crowd in the Yerevan Zoo is pumped with excitement to see their hometown hero rising once more to the occasion. He and Clemmens stare down, both men looking exhausted, both teetering and wobbling, read to collapse, both worse for wear, but ready to trade blows once more before Gurgen stumbles and drops into the straw.


Gurgen wallows a minute before laying on his back breathing heavy. In rushes fight commissioners and standby physicians who carefully signal Gurgen may not be able to continue.

NATE HOLLIS: A technical knock out!

BRAD STOKES: Not quite a knock out!

NATE HOLLIS: But definitely something.

Clemmens rolls his jaw, not wanting to test the outcome much as Gurgen is sat up and looked at by the physician. Light in eyes, visual tracking, etcetera. Clemmens lights a cigarette and steps from the wolf pen.

NATE HOLLIS: There you have it, fight fans. A technical knockout!

Over the zoo speaker system an announcer calls the fight.

ANNOUNCER: And your winner… by technical knock out…. SHANE…. CLEMMENS!!!!

The crowd is a mixed bag. Not the outcome anyone would want, but in through the door comes an official wearing a F2W bomber jacket, who extends a hand holding a t-shirt to Gurgen whose eyes remain downcast.

BRAD STOKES: Gurgen gets the shirt! Thatta dude!

NATE HOLLIS: Gurgen is not happy with that outcome!

BRAD STOKES: They don't hand those t-shirts out for no reason, Nate.

The F2W official eventually, and carefully drapes the t-shirt onto Gurgen's shoulder in spite of the Beast looking less than enthused.
BRAD STOKES: I guess those t-shirts aren't as gaudy as they could be...

NATE HOLLIS: Still an achievement. In his first match in Fight 2 Win against one of the toughest competitors to ever set foot in a ring, or other wrestling apparatus, I don't feel Gurgen wanted to stop the fight, but--

BRAD STOKES: He'll get another shot.

NATE HOLLIS: And with that, Clemmens got out of that by sheer endurance and resilience alone! He outlasted Gurgen, but barely.

BRAD STOKES: Check out my hand, dude? There's two of them.

NATE HOLLIS: While my announce partner trips out on god knows what, and the rest of us wrestle with what this match outcome means, I’m sure there’s something going on elswhere on this episode of Melee that we can cut to and come back from.
BLACKNESS: A void of grainy, dark picture noise. And yet, there was sound—subtle scrapes and groans of movement, metal flexing and bending under weight, and laboured breathing intermixed with effort-filled grunts.

Then another noise. A vibration.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

A man’s voice called out.

MAN: REALLY? NOW he calls me? Ya gotta be fucking kidding me.

After a series of strained sounds, a source of light cut through the darkness and filled the screen. It was a cell phone, and it lit up the narrow air conditioner duct that was barely large enough for the man precariously trying to crawl his way through it.

Sweat ran down his face as he got the phone to his ear. FREEZE ON THE MAN’s face.


Reno shouted into the phone.


RODNEY (V.O.): Did you get it yet?

RENO: Are you fucking insane? You told me this fucking thing was big enough.

RODNEY (V.O.): You’re a skinny guy! I’m sure there’s plenty of room.

RENO: Skinny? The Olsen twins would be getting claustrophobic in here and they don’t have my shoulders.

RODNEY (V.O.): Listen, it’s all set. All you gotta do is get to the office, download the data, and you’re done. In and out, like the wind.

RENO: (gettin’ faaaaakin ANGRY) FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. I told you I don’t do this bullshit. I’m a fucking mixed martial artist, not some James Bond mother fucker. I don’t even wear suits.

RODNEY (V.O.): Listen to me, Reno. Before James Bond was a world-renowned super spy, he was a simple actor named Daniel Craig who used his acting skills to save the world twenty four times. And that’s only counting the EON films.

RENO: Those are fucking movies. Daniel Craig has stuntmen. This is real life!

RODNEY (V.O.): Is it? Or is it just fantasy? All you have to do is believe in yourself and you can do do anything.

RENO: I’m hanging up now.

He ended the call, but flipped the flashlight on and used it to look ahead. He gave a long, tired sigh and slowly shook his head.

RENO: Come up to New York, we’ll eat some bread, have a few laughs.

He shut off the phone light, plunging the SCREEN TO BLACK, and started crawling. He shimmied his way through the narrow ac duct toward a large vent. Soft light glowed up through the grates, illuminating his face as he peeked his head over the grating.

BELOW: A small office. From the vent, Reno saw part of a desk with two empty chairs sat before it. The flooring was a dark carpet and the only light came from a large fish tank built into the north wall. From his vantage point, it appeared to be at least seven feet long, and approximately 4 feet deep.

Reno carefully lifted the vent out of its housing and pushed it ahead in the crawlspace, then dropped down into the room. He landed in a crouched position with his face full of surprise that he didn’t fall on his stupid ass.

He slowly stood, listening for sounds of movement. The floor seemed quiet. He turned to look around. The office was surprisingly luxurious considering the owner’s position in the company was merely the Head of Security.

He said to himself, “In and out, Reno. Like the wind.” He took a step toward the desk and reached into his pocket for the USB drive Rodney gave him.

SUDDENLY the chair behind the desk spun around.

HEAD OF SECURITY: MR. NEVADA. Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.

The Head of Security was a man, fifties, with a head devoid of hair, and an angry scar running across his dead left eye.

RENO: (awkward laugh) This isn’t what you think.

Reno started to back up toward the door when two men in F2W security uniforms entered the office behind him. They were armed with assault rifles.

HOS: You aren’t trying to steal files off my secure computer?

RENO: Okay, so maybe it is—Wait. Why were you expecting me?

HOS: An hour ago, I received a tip from our mole. YES, Mr. Nevada, we know everything.

RENO: Everything?

HOS: (smirking) EVERYTHING.

RENO: You don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice.

HOS: There’s always a choice, Mr. Nevada. You chose to break into my office. Now I have a choice to make.

RENO: Let me go?

HOS: No, Mr. Nevada. I want you to die!

The two henchmen seized Nevada by the arms.

HOS: Do you see my fish tank, Mr. Nevada? It is filled with a dozen red-bellied piranha. They can strip a man to the bone in thirty seconds.

The two guards started to drag Reno toward the door. He panicked and tried to get away, but then something came over him. Maybe Rodney was right. Maybe he just had to believe.


Reno planted his feet, turned, and headbutted one of the guards in the face. The man let go of his arm and flops to the ground.


The second guard raised his rifle to fire. Reno turned with surprising speed and took hold of the gun, aiming it past him it went off, firing a burst of bullets into the first guard as he was trying to stand. The blast blew him back five feet, bursting into a bookshelf. It broke apart and books cascaded down over top of the guard.

Reno twisted his body, judo tossed the second guard over his hip, and followed him to the ground. He spun around the man’s arm and snapped it at the elbow. The guard dropped his rifle and screamed in agony. White bone jutted through the fabric of his sleeve.

The Head of Security stumbled out of his chair and hurried around his desk. He reached with his fingers outstretched for the assault rifle.

Reno got to it first. He picked the rifle up and aimed it at the Head of Security.

RENO: What’s your name?

The scarred man cowered to his knees.

HOS: My name is Ansel. I am Head of Security for Fight 2 Win.

The scarred man’s features tightened.

HOS: And if you think I am going to tell you anything else, you are GREATLY mistaken, Mr. Nevada.

He jumped to his feet. Reno raised the rifle, ready to defend himself, but Ansel, Head of Security, turned and ran head first into the fish tank. His forehead smacked against the thick glass and he flopped back onto the ground. A red imprint of his face was left smeared in blood on the cracked, but not shattered glass tank.

RENO: What the fuck…

The Boston MMA fighter surveyed the carnage. One dead guard. Another passed out from the pain of his fractured arm. The Head of Security flopping around on the floor like a dying fish from the head trauma.

Reno placed the gun on the desk and booted up the computer. He inserted the USB drive into the mainframe and executed the hack by entering a few quick keystrokes. Lines of code rained down the computer screen for several tense moments as Reno kept an eye on the door.

After the hack completed and the files were copied, Reno took the drive and the rifle on his way out. He snagged a keycard off one of the guards and exited the office.

The steady whup-whup-whup of a helicopter propeller coupled with ominous, impending music.

Fade-in to Angelica Vaughn’s face, blindfolded.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: Can someone please tell us where we’re going?

Wide-out to the airborne Helicopter flying over an ocean at dusk. Inside are two pilots. Seated in the back, similarly blindfolded alongside Angelica are Zack Fantana, Starlight, Brennan Devlin and Adam Wolfe. They are being watched over by two men each wielding an assault rifle and donning army fatigues.

ARMED GUARD 1: Monster Island.

ZACK FANTANA: Monster island?

ARMED GUARD 2: But don’t worry. It’s just a name.

Angelica is only vaguely relieved.

ARMED GUARD 1: It’s actually a peninsula.


A cheeky smirk creeps onto Brennan Devlin’s face. One of the pilots is overheard.

PILOT: Reached the drop zone.

A buzzer sounds. The helicopter hovers in place. You can hear This is tense. Without much fanfare, the armed guards rip Starlight and Adam Wolfe up out of their seats and set them out either side of the helicopter equipped with parachutes. Angie can hear Adam and Starlight holler in surprise and shock on their way down.


ARMED GUARD 1: Sorry. You all have an engagement to meet.

And she is tugged unceremoniously from her seat and pushed out of the helicopter just as quickly!

ZACK FANTANA: Guys, I just remembered, I have an inner thigh injury to attend--

ARMED GUARD 2: Not today, pretty boy.

And he, too, is booted out of the helicopter to plummet into uncertainty below. Devlin’s smirk remains as the guards wrench him from his seat and set him up to be also kicked from the helicopter. One of the guard holds him a moment.

ARMED GUARD 1: Big fan, Devlin.

BRENNAN DEVLIN: Why thank you, I--

ARMED GUARD 2: A shame someone doesn’t feel the same.

And then a swift boot to the stomach and Devlin is kicked from the helicopter!

The wind throttles past him as Devlin frees the blindfold from his face to look around at the other 4 members of the match hitting their parachutes and floating down to a dense-looking jungle below. Devlin feels for it, and slowly it dawns on him as he plummets.

BRENNAN DEVLIN: I don’t have a parachute...

WHOOSH he freefalls.


Devlin tries to grab a rapidly approaching tree branch, instead he slams off a tree branch as he falls through leaves, slams off another and finally manages to grab a branch, halting the nasty freefall.

The others have removed their blindfolds in the calamity have had the chance to at least view the island into which they are parachuting. A dense tree line, a high mountain peak in the distance, and mysterious jungle getting darker as the sun sets.

BRAD STOKES: It’s ma boy, Zack Fantana!

Zack Fantana’s moment to gather his bearings is interrupted by a drone that hovers into view.

NATE HOLLIS: You’re not supposed to broadcast OUT the Drone's speaker, you fool.

BRAD STOKES: It’s my drone. I’ll do what I want!


The drone flits in and around him like an incredibly oversized mosquito. Another drone hovers calmly nearby.

ZACK FANTANA: You must be the Nate Hollis drone.

Starlight, Adam Wolfe, and Angie Vaughn come to a secure landing in a small clearing surrounded by trees, and the rest is darkness. They are joined by Zack who doesn’t get an answer from the drones who are filming them. There’s a tiny fleet of them moving in and amongst the trees seeking out angles.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: So… what do we do now?

Something moves in the jungle, catching Angie’s attention. Starlight snickers mischievously.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: Do we, like, stick together or something?

It’s not at all what any of them would expect to have happen in any kind of wrestling match. There’s a moment of glances being exchanged.

ZACK FANTANA: We could employ the buddy system.

Adam Wolfe glares at Starlight, ignoring the others.

ADAM WOLFE: You took him.

She hisses at him with a wicked grin and an ominously creepy giggle. Adam faces her and imposes over her.


And from the woods rushes something barely visible, a shadow of something none of them can make out, that slams into Starlight with enough force to carry her crashing into the woods.


Angelica Vaughn and Zack Fantana eye one another with sudden incredulity and concern.

ZACK FANTANA: That wasn’t Franchinger.


Wolfe’s excitement is impossible to contain. Zack Fantana, who arguably knows Wolfe the best between he and Angie, is about to inform Wolfe of the truth before Adam’s grin and enthusiasm at finding his missing puppet pal carries him into the woods after Starlight.

BRAD STOKES: And then there were two!

The sudden sound of Brad Stokes’ voice emanating from the hovering drone startles Fantana and Vaughn to glance up at the hovering camera.

NATE HOLLIS: I told you, turn off the broadcast speakers!

BRAD STOKES: Fun-ruiner.

The drone goes silent, with Fantana and Vaughn both eyeing the small party of drones peering at them from overhead, and the glint off the lenses from the jungle.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: I thought he said it was just a name. “Monster Island”.

Zack eyes Angelica Vaughn curiously.

And then,


Brennan Devlin flies out from the jungle with some bruises and scrapes marring his features and slams a forearm off Fantana’s chin sending Zack sprawling across grass towards the jungle’s edge. Angelica Vaughn readies herself at the sight of him but isn’t quick enough to defend against a sudden Devlin kick that stuns her. Devlin follows up with a gut-wrench suplex that slams her back off the ground!

NATE HOLLIS: Apologies for the confusion there, fans. Brad Stokes and I are using our remote controls to help cover the fight, but SOMEONE is trying to communicate with the combatants.

BRAD STOKES: Everyone needs a father, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: Maybe so, but we’re back to our standard commentary now, folks, though we are focused on ensuring the fight is captured in high definition.


The camera angle swoops and soars to dizzying degree, as if flown by a first time pilot on mind-altering hallucinogens. Cut to a better angle as Devlin scoops Angelica Vaughn up to her feet only to get crushed by an unexpected Zack Fantana spear that sends both men tumbling into the jungle. Zack gets the upper hand, resting atop Devlin and slamming a series of mounted punches into Devlin before something stirs in the jungle darkness, catching his attention.


Devlin follows Zack’s glance into the dark brush of the jungle only a moment before taking advantage of Zack’s distraction and slams a fierce elbow up into Zack’s chin!

BRAD STOKES: That’ll teach him to take his eyes off the fight!

NATE HOLLIS: What do we know about that island, Brad?

BRAD STOKES: I think it’s an isthmus. But I have no idea what that means.

NATE HOLLIS: Something’s not right here.

BRAD STOKES: Eat some of that Lembas wafer. It’ll make everything a-ok.

Devlin rolls Fantana over and gains leverage, trapping Fantana’s arm and locking on a punishing crossface. Fantana winces and struggles for air, reaching and digging his fingers through grass and dirt to find something to free himself. Devlin sneers, wrenching back hard on Fantana’s head.

NATE HOLLIS: Not a good place to be. This fight was designed to be a brutal test of each of these competitors. No ring. No official. Knockouts or removal from the field of battle are the only way to eliminate your opponents.

BRAD STOKES: So, what… does that mean Starlight and Adam Wolfe are out of this thing?

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure, Brad. Anything can happen here.

Devlin has Fantana locked in tight with the crossface. Zack struggles against it, but you can see strain setting in. Devlin’s sneer turns into an evil, pending victory grin. Then he sees the bushes move. And a shadow looms in the darkness as Devlin looks on in surprise. Zack can feel Devlin’s grip loosen at the sight of the looming shadow and then WHAM! It is Angelica Vaughn slamming a stiff kick into Devlin’s jaw that sends the Foundation of Fight 2 Win onto his back.

BRAD STOKES: HA! That was no monster lurking in the shadows! It’s just Angie Vaughn! Devlin’s such a wuss!

The Vaughnemous one doesn’t let up. Sending a flurry of stiff kicks into Devlin’s side that has Brennan struggling to get away. Vaughn sends another hurried kick into Devlin’s head that whips Brennan over!

NATE HOLLIS: Angelica Vaughn is by no means a mean girl, but when it comes to Brennan Devlin she’s definitely not a fan.

BRAD STOKES: Why, cause he inferred she can’t wrestle on account of her gender? You can’t argue with science, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: You’re on thin ice, Brad.


With Devlin seemingly stunned into submission, Angie turns to help Zack up to his feet.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: Buddy system.

Zack braces his neck and glances into the woods, confused.

ANGELICA VAUGHN: I’m pretty certain there actually is a monster out there. And I think it got Starlight.

She’s serious. Zack considers what he’s just been told, weighing the facts with the opinions, the knowledge with the intuition and then surprises Angie with a fireman’s carry that sends all 5’9 of her skidding down an incline! Fantana is about to follow after her but finds Devlin’s hand gripping his leg and tugging back on him. Fantana drops back with an elbow into Devlin’s shoulder blade, then wrenches Devlin up to his feet and sends him running with velocity towards a tree trunk where Devlin slams into it.

NATE HOLLIS: Fantana isn’t dumb. He’s not about to lose sight of this match on account of no monsters.

BRAD STOKES: Yes, but what if THAT is dumb, Nate? What if the monsters inhabiting that island are the real threat?

NATE HOLLIS: Are you crazy?

BRAD STOKES: Yes, I am. I’m high on something. We’ve been over this.


Fantana heaves Devlin up to his feet and slams a dropkick into Devlin that bursts the Face of Wrestling into the brush to collapse into a flowing stream! Angie rushes Zack before he can proceed, she leaps and slams Fantana down with a headscissor takedown that sends Fantana into the stream with Devlin! Angie rises to her feet and eyes the two opponents struggling to rise in the mere foot of water. Behind her the grass moves. Slowly, Angie turns…

A drone follows Adam Wolfe as he walks with purpose through the jungle.


It’s dark. Cicadas buzz softly. Adam is crying.


Adam stops his trek to wipe his nose and gather his bearings. He’s in a strange jungle, clearly lost, his eyes unable to fully adjust to the darkness. Something moves in the underbrush. He can see a leaf swaying.

ADAM WOLFE: It’s the wind.

The cicadas have stopped their buzzing.

ADAM WOLFE: Franchinger…?

He can sense eyes on him. Up ahead a branch snaps.

ADAM WOLFE: Franchinger!

Adam picks up his pace and heads towards the sound!

Back at the stream, Zack Fantana is stunned, rising up from the stream fending off a Brennan Devlin strike and knocking him backwards with an elbow.

ZACK FANTANA: Didn’t you see that? It’s like the forest just came alive and took Angie!

BRENNAN DEVLIN: And I don’t care!

He’s up to his feet and slams an elbow into Zack’s midsection to double him over then drives Fantana down into the stream with an axe handle. Devlin wipes his hair from his eyes and collects Fantana up, and swings a fierce punch into Zack’s chest that sends Fantana stumbling backwards over a tiny waterfall into a pool below! Devlin laughs to himself and follows him, leaping the distance down to face Zack only for Zack to lock his ankles around Devlin’s neck and slam his head off the nearby rock face! Zack rises and slams a fist into Devlin’s stomach, one eye looking towards the nearby treeline, well aware there’s danger lurking out there as he fights Devlin. Devlin returns fire, slamming an elbow into Zack’s throat and staggers Fantana backward.

NATE HOLLIS: No, but seriously, where did Angelica Vaughn go?

BRAD STOKES: What’s so hard to understand, Nate? The forest came alive and took her. That’s it.


BRAD STOKES: Dammit Mister Science. ACCEPT FACTS. We’re down to Zack Fantana and Brennan Devlin in this match and my drone seems to have lost one of it’s propellers.

NATE HOLLIS: And it’s signal. Your drone isn’t even filming, dude.

BRAD STOKES: Yeah, I know. Something in the forest took it out. Must’ve smashed against a rock or something.

NATE HOLLIS: WHAT?! What took it out?

BRAD STOKES: I don’t know, man. I’m tripping balls here. It was something creepy looking. I thought it was one of my many hallucinations.

NATE HOLLIS: We gotta get them out of there. That island is not safe. Something’s stalking our wrestlers.

BRAD STOKES: It’s a Peninsula, dick.

Adam Wolfe steps into a clearing and looks around. All is calm save for a slow drip of what sounds like water. Moss and lichens gather on stones. It’s the perfect clearing to set up camp. Adam smiles to himself.

ADAM WOLFE: Hmm. Peaceful.

He looks around. No Franchinger. The dripping sound puzzles him a moment. He peers around but sees no water. He steps to the side and nearly slips on something on the rock! That’s where the drip is landing. Adam peers up, his jaw slackening as he does to see his sworn enemy, Starlight, hanging upside down from a tree, unconscious with drips of blood falling from her nose and mouth onto the rock Adam almost slipped on.


He hears something.

ADAM WOLFE: Franchinger?

The entire jungle is quiet around him. Adam frowns in the darkness, and then sees a three beams of red light appear on his chest. He looks down at them, looking like a targeting reticle.


His eyes peer up to follow them into the jungle, where something he can’t see has him caught in its crosshairs. And then it all goes dark for Adam Wolfe.

NATE HOLLIS: What just happened?! What’s going on?!

BRAD STOKES: It’s obvious that Brennan Devlin is taking out the competitors in this match one by one using elaborate space-age technology, Nate. Why is this so complicated for you to understand?

Back at the waterfall, and in the little pool in which Devlin and Fantana continue to duke it out, Devlin has Fantana in a headlock only for Fantana to back-body drop Devlin into the water! Fantana is up as Devlin flails his arms to get back to the surface of the water. Fantana lifts a foot, ready to stomp Devlin back down ruthlessly only for Angie Vaughn to surprise swing out of the jungle on a vine and slam a kick into Fantana that sends him flying onto the rocks at the shore of the pool!

NATE HOLLIS: Angie Vaughn is back!

BRAD STOKES: And you thought she was dead!

Vaughn sticks the landing off the vine and meets Fantana head on, blocking one of his punches, hooking his arms and slams Zack into the rocks with an impressive arm-trap suplex! From the water, Devlin is up and choking out water as he wades to shore up to his knees in water. Angie has Zack down and slams fist after fist into Zack, clearly upset at not being listened to earlier, and wanting to win this match. Devlin grips her hair and tugs her off Zack, tipping Angie off balance and then surprising her with a codebreaker!

NATE HOLLIS: The cosmic facecrusher! Devlin hit Angie Vaughn with the Cosmic Facecrusher!

BRAD STOKES: Vaughn is down!

NATE HOLLIS: Not out, though!

Angie clutches her jaw and rolls onto her side, watching as Zack Fantana slams a double knee facebreaker into an unsuspecting Brennan Devlin!

NATE HOLLIS: The Reverie!!! Zack Fantana hit Devlin with the Reverie!

BRAD STOKES: ...Am I hallucinating or do those moves seem remarkably similar?

NATE HOLLIS: Hallucinating.

Fantana is the only one up, looking from Angie Vaughn who is panting and struggling to climb up onto her haunches as Devlin is sitting up slowly, clearly in pain.

NATE HOLLIS: They’re not done!

Fantana goes for Devlin first, reaching down to grab Devlin only to be met with a large stone Devlin clutched in his hand! Fantana collapses like a ton of bricks.

NATE HOLLIS: Fantana’s out cold!

BRAD STOKES: Clever use of the environment by Devlin there. That’s exactly what I would have done.

NATE HOLLIS: No you wouldn’t. You’re too high to fly a drone.

BRAD STOKES: I said ‘WOULD’ have, Nate. Past tense. Obviously not now. I’m too high to fly a drone. Plus I’m seeing shit.

As Devlin staggers to his feet still clutching the rock with a smear of Zack’s blood on its face he is surprised by a scissor kick from Angelica Vaughn that knocks Devlin into the tree line, his back coming to be braced against the trunk of a tree. Angie rushes him and Devlin swings the rock once more only for Angie to duck it and begin mounting a furious assault of right and left knee strikes into Devlin’s sides, keeping Devlin stunned before he manages to sidestep one of Angie’s knees, letting her strike the tree trunk itself!

NATE HOLLIS: That had to hurt!

Devlin grips Angie’s head and slams her against the tree, panting and clutching his side, all cut up, watching as Angie slides down to the ground clearly knocked unconscious.

BRAD STOKES: Devlin’s done it!

NATE HOLLIS: It sure looks like it, but now what?

The drones hover around Devlin as he limps away from his downed opponents and follows the stream downhill. It’s a staggered march in which Devlin routinely comes to brace himself against trees and rocks, barely clinging to his own consciousness before he comes into a clearing where a landed helicopter awaits, its propeller spinning at the ready.

ARMED GUARD 1: Nice work, Devlin. Congratulations. You made it.

Devlin’s out of breath, staggering toward the makeshift landing field. He sniffles in blood from his nose, clutching his side where ribs are likely bruised or worse.

ARMED GUARD 2: I’m sure your dogs will be most pleased you survived this little test.

He says it snidely. Devlin almost misses it as he braces against the helicopter.

BRENNAN DEVLIN: What’d you say?

Only a smirk is the response. One of the armed guards motions with a nod of his head for Devlin to board the helicopter. He does. And it takes off, leaving Monster Island….

Walking straight into the Lion’s Den, Kassandrah couldn’t stop thinking that this was a terrible idea. Since stepping inside the building hosting miss Altamonte office, she didn't meet a soul, except for the overweight doorman at the entrance who lazily told her where to find the F2W owner. She has been sitting outside the closed door for a good five minutes now, and she didn’t see a soul walking in that awfully quiet empty hallway. The piano music softly playing out of the speakers, meant to be relaxing and making the wait less heavy was instead, making her feel uncomfortable. Or perhaps, it was just the thought of what she was about to do.

“The plan is simple. You ask for a meeting with miss Altamonte, to discuss the contract for one of your clients, me. And make sure to keep the WiFi connection on your phone open.”

Instinctively she checked her phone, for the fifth time since stepping inside the building. And just like the previous times, the icon was showing an available network. Protected. He was right, the plan was indeed simple, elementary. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to realize. What if Altamonte recognized her as one of the AWE stakeholders? What if she didn't buy the cover story? So many questions, so many doubts. And the biggest one, who kept surfacing through all the thoughts filling her mind. Could she really trust Sybyl?

In his nonsensical speech, the always clueless Francis raised a good point. A point that he obviously missed, but not Kassandrah. Why was she trusting a man who was keeping his identity concealed, a man that popped out from nowhere offering his help to expose Angelina Altamonte? What were his reasons? Could he be the mole Angelina infiltrated in their group? His presence certainly raised more than an eyebrow. He never talked to anyone but Kassandrah, and even with her, he always seemed to be walking on eggshells, measuring each and every words. Kassandrah always had the feeling that he knew more than he was sharing, but, for some reason, he didn't trust her enough. Then why she was trusting him so blindly? Why she couldn't help but to do what he told her?

The truth was she couldn't really figure him out. And it stung. HIS identity, his past, his motives… Everything about him was secret, and because of that, intriguing. Sybyl was a mystery, one Kassandrah was determined to solve, well aware but uncaring of the risks.

The door finally opened, and a young brunette invited her in. Kass walked to the next room finding herself in front of the F2W owner.

“Kassandrah” Angelina said with an ambiguous smile. “Please have a seat”

“Thanks miss Altamonte” She was trying to hide her nervousness, reaching out and shaking her extended hand. A strong grip for such a small woman.

“I understand you are here to talk about business. I’m glad to see you gave up on the bad company of that old lunatic obsessed with taking away MY company”

She stressed out the word “mine” way more than she should have. That, and the smirk on her face, confirmed Kassandrah’s suspicions. Despite what was transpiring from her professional approach, Angelina knew everything about their small group. “You know the good old Francis. Half of what he says makes no sense at all, and the other half is him talking about his mogwai.”

Angelina nodded, grabbing one of the standard pre-printed contracts from a drawer. “So what's your client's name and, most importantly, where is he?”

Legit questions, to which Kassandrah had no answers. “His name is Sybyl.”

“I don't think that’s his birth name”

“He wants his identity to remain a secret. That's why he wears a mask, and that's why he hired me as his agent”

Angelina shrugged, unimpressed. “Just get him to sign those papers. You can fax them back, there's no need for you to bother coming back here. Have a nice day Kassandrah.”

This went better than I expected. Kassandrah thought to herself. But, there was a problem. She still didn't hear back from Sybyl, whatever he was doing, he needed more time.

“You can go now, Kassandrah.” She said with a fake smile, concealing a growing discomfort.

“Actually, there's one more thing I would like to discuss with you.” Kassandrah quickly replied, hoping to buy herself some more time.

“Of course.” This time it took her a little more effort to keep the facade up. “Just make it quick please. Running a successful company keeps you quite busy.”

Kass caught the gibe. “What would I know, right?” The smirk on Angelina's face left no doubts. She was having a dig at her. Before she could reply, her phone vibrated in her pocket. An unknown number sent her a short clip of miss Altamonte, caught from the webcam on her laptop. Sybyl was in. “Look, I'm only here to look after my client’s interest.” She quickly browsed the document, finding the fighter's payment. Without even looking at the amount, she taunted the F2W owner. “I’m sure you can do better than this.”

“Or I could just tell you to get out of my office and send you back to your client empty handed.” Angelina said without batting an eyelid, showing Kassandrah who was in charge. The fortune teller answer caught her off-guard.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I’m sure Jack taught you this.” Angelina was left with no choice but to concede, getting to work on her computer and printing a new contract. She showed Kass the new terms and the psychic simply nodded. “I’m glad we could seal this deal. See you around miss Altamonte.” Kassandrah stood up, offering her hand to the young boss of F2W. After a small hesitation, Angelina shook it. When Kass tried to walk away, Angelina didn’t let her hand go.

“I hope you had fun playing detectives.” She said with a sneer, staring right in Kass’ eyes. “Because none of this will matter after tonight.You guys have already lost.”

Kass quickly left the building, driving slowly through the traffic to get back to the the hotel room Sybyl asked her to book. The idea that Angelina was just bluffing crossed her mind, but her eyes were telling a different story. The way she made it sound, all hope was gone, the war was over before the battle even started. That dreadful feeling that this was all her mistake, that she welcomed in their group the mole was starting to slither through her mind. Maybe Sybyl was really working for Angelina Altomonte, that would explain a lot of things... Kassandrah didn't wait for the elevator, rushing upstairs the three floors starting to picture in her mind the moment when she would open the door and find an empty room. The ultimate proof of Sybyl’s betrayal. She stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath and holding it before pushing the door open.

He was there.

“Are you ok Kassandrah? It looks like you saw a ghost.”

“Something like that” She said sighing in relief. “What do we have?” Sybyl could hear the disheartenment in her voice.

“Nothing in her emails, or in any folders. Her browser history tells us a lot about her taste in clothes, but nothing we can use against her.” He said, confirming her fears.

“She was right. We have nothing.”

“What do you mean saying that she was right?” He asked, massaging his temples.

“Angelina knows we are up to something. She was kind enough to let me know that all our efforts are futile, that she already won. And you pretty much just confirmed.”

“She cleaned up everything. There’s nothing I can do without a physical access to the hard disk. And her phone is another dead end, she literally bought it this morning. Someone tipped her off. We’re back to square one.”
Alfie Tenner stares at the Tunnel of Love. He closes his eyes and breathes in slowly then exhales. Repeating this focus he begins the process of…

A$HLEY QUID: Getting your fucking mode on, buv. This is what Gully does. I’ll just help by getting you started.

A$hley Quid walks around him, sizing him up. She points at the tunnel like he can see her.

A$HLEY QUID: That there is the tunnel of love. She must of loved it in there. Talks about it like you gave her a blooming tumble, she does. Talks about it all the time, really. It’s like she’s infatuated, bruv. That was the point. You took the future champ on and you held your own. That’s something the people will remember.

ALFIE TENNER: Do you really think she-

A$hley jumps up and smacks him on the back of the head. He immediately gets back into attention and closes his eyes.

A$HLEY QUID: Focus you minger. I am not doing this because I want to hear myself talk. Which I do but this is for your own good, yeah? Now. If we ‘ad known that the first match was going to lead to a title then you would have fought even ‘arder, right? That match made you seem well ‘ard and a threat to anyone in here.

Now is the time to cash in on that threat, bruv. You are like a spastic fucking warhead ready to blow and I got the ‘ammer. Now is the time to strike. I got you this shot at the title because you ‘ave earned it. Doesn’t matter what ‘appened before with Blackstar. He couldn’t take the beating you gave him apparently. That’s the stuff I need now. I want you to beat this bird up like you did the first time. Now I want you to win. You always bring the fight but you never finish like a bloody Cinderella that has a slow watch. I’m your sister, mate, and I don’t want to see you anymore. Go get that good life, bruv.

Alfie nods. He’s feeling it and be bobs from side to side. Then he whispers.

ALFIE TENNER: What about the robots, then?

A$HLEY QUID: Oh fucking ‘ell. Believe what you want to believe. We’ve stash the ting in there. If you feel any freak strength or see sparks flying out of her fucking eyes you go for it. Otherwise you stick to the game plan. I know something the whole world knows. Everyone, yeah, we don’t go jumping to conclusions like you do, right? So please just follow that simple gameplan of knocking that head off her shoulders or twisting one of her limbs off her manly body. If you do that, bruv, you’ll be guaranteed a victory because I don’t know how many more opportunities you are going to get at this point.

We are at the turning point in this company. We are getting well situated and I want your name to be right there on top of the whole fucking thing. Imagine this face on the poster outside of a big tall building. Top draw. That is what I got in mind for you, bruv. All you have to do, right, is go a little further than you did the first time. Just by a bit, yeah? You took her to the limit now break the bitch in. You get me? Now go on, son. Give us a yell and to the fucking slaughter.

Alfie opens his eyes wide. He roars out a war cry and runs into the ruins of the carnival.

“Looking for this?” Alfie’s eyes narrow on the sound of Natalie King’s voice as it echoes off the metal sides of a beaten up and worn down old kiddie roller coaster. Alfie catches a glimpse of her shadow moving down a pathway, holding the Melee Championship up like an invitation. Alfie’s eyes narrow, watching at a distance as she enters into the Funhouse. He takes off running after her.

NATE HOLLIS: And we’re off, fight fans, for the last fight of the night. And this one’s for the Melee Championship.

BRAD STOKES: How long has Natalie King held that belt?

NATE HOLLIS: This will be her third title defense, I believe.

BRAD STOKES: That’s crazy. It’s almost like all that science I was quoting earlier about women not being very good at fighting is being disproved whenever Natalie King fights some dude and wins.

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie Tenner may have her number tonight. But I hardly think your “science” is accurate. Natalie King is a shining example of more than just her gender, but also every competitor on this roster who hopes to one day earn the right to hold that Melee Championship.

Alfie bursts into the darkened funhouse and immediately starts at the sight of his distorted reflection shining back at him down a hallway lined with mirrors.

NATALIE KING: It only makes sense it’d be you challenging for this belt, Alfie. This is where it started.

Alfie growls, stalking silently down the hallway with his wits about him.

ALFIE TENNER: And it’s where it ends.

Nat’s reflection appearing suddenly beside him spurs Alfie to action, slamming his fist into the mirror, shattering it into shards. Alfie growls angrily, hearing Nat snickering somewhere deeper in the funhouse.

NATALIE KING: Hope you’re properly medicated, Alfie. A man with your condition in a setting like this is liable to lose his mind.

Alfie’s breathing is tense. She’s right. He’s not on his meds, a standard byproduct of his sister’s expert managerial skills, undoubtedly. Alfie stalks down the hallway carefully, mindful of the reflections shifting and changing under what little light there is before spying Nat and rushing her, and slamming a dropkick into her!


Another mirror crumbles into pieces on the floor, with Alfie gritting his teeth and climbing back up to his feet, wiping some broken mirror glass off his bare torso.

NATE HOLLIS: This is just like Enter the Dragon.

BRAD STOKES: Dragons aren’t real, dude.

NATE HOLLIS: No, it’s a movie.

BRAD STOKES: Not even in the movies. Dragons aren’t real. Don’t make me bust out more science.

Alfie stands still, eyeing down the long hallway of mirrors looking like a maze where he’s standing. Wall-to-wall reflections of himself until he hears something move close beside him, and without wasting a second he swivels his bodies, grips a silently rushing Natalie King and scoop slams her into a nearby funhouse mirror with a loud, bewildering crash!


Alfie grips Nat, about to lift her to her feet ony for Nat to slam a knee off Alfie’s head and kickflip herself up to a stand and connect a spinning roundhouse kick that sends Alfie stumbling right into one of the upright mirrors. She rushes him but Alfie dodges out of the way letting Natalie King slam into the mirror with another loud CRASH as she collects on the ground amid a pool of broken mirror shards! Alfie slams a stiff kick into her exposed midsection half punting her across the floor!

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie Tenner is a notorious loose cannon. Hard to entirely know what to expect from him, but one thing is never in doubt, he’s one of the toughest customers on the Fight 2 Win roster.

Alfie charges the downed Nat, leaps, and SLAMS an elbow drop into her back to keep her grounded, then proceeds onto Nat’s back to lock on a triangle choke. But Nat is too quick to let Alfie get much leverage. She has her feet under her and is lifting up before Alfie can secure much more than a partial sleeper hold.

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie Tenner is trying to get control of Natalie King and keep it.

Nat rears her elbow back into Alfie’s midsection and ribs repeatedly, knocking Alfie off her and giving her enough room to turn and drop Alfie down headfirst onto the funhouse concrete floor with a DDT, and Nat doesn’t let go, leveraging her grip on Alfie’s head and neck to bring him up once more and then snap suplex him into another of the upright mirrors with a loud SMASH!

BRAD STOKES: So much bad luck.

NATE HOLLIS: What happened to all the science you’ve been preaching?

BRAD STOKES: Even science can’t stand in the face of mojo, karma, hexes and wizardry, Nate. Keep up.

Nat transfers over quickly into a mount and slams a series of punches into Alfie Tenner who grits his teeth, grabs Nat’s head and slams his own off the bridge of her nose, stunning the Melee champion and forcing her off of him. Alfie rises to his feet as Nat clutches her nose in pain, blood spilling onto the funhouse floor. Alfie wastes no time rushing her and slamming a shoulder tackle into Nat’s spine, taking her feet off the floor and driving her facefirst into another upright mirror!

NATE HOLLIS: Spared that mirror. Not enough impact to break it.

BRAD STOKES: No one still attends this carnival, right?

NATE HOLLIS: I highly doubt it.

BRAD STOKES: Good, cause the way these two are trashing the place, I was worried about all the pissed off kids who paid to go through the funhouse.

Alfie slams a series of vicious kidney shots and Nat winces and tries to block and cover up only for Alfie to slam a knee right into her spine before gripping her wrist and sending her flying down the long mirrored hallway with enough force to break her out into the open carnival through the front door!

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie’s hungry for that belt! The only way to get it is through Natalie King, and that’s precisely what he intends to do.

Outside the funhouse, Natalie King staggers to a stand and watches Alfie stalk down the funhouse hallway towards her, then break into a rush, leaping out at her only for her to clutch him and spin his momentum into a powerslam into the dusty ground of the old carnival!

NATE HOLLIS: Nat looks busted up, but she’s giving it right back to Alfie now!

Brutal punches rain down from Nat’s fist to Alfie’s face before Alfie snags Nat’s arm between his legs and forces her down onto the ground, giving him enough room to lean up and drive an elbow down into Nat’s face only for Nat to block the elbow and trap Alfie’s head in a headscissor of her own, tying each of them into a knot on the ground!

BRAD STOKES: Nice transitions here. I may be tripping balls on antique acid, but even I can appreciate quality chain wrestling when I see it.

NATE HOLLIS: You’re not wrong. The violence itself won’t deter Alfie or Nat from displaying some of their hard-won in-ring skills.

BRAD STOKES: Yea, but we’re in a carnival surrounded by giant thirty foot twinkies.

NATE HOLLIS: The acid talking?

BRAD STOKES: Think I need a doctor.

They wrench themselves free and race to a stand, and it’s Nat who drives a lariat into Alfie’s chest first, driving him backward with enough momentum to slam him backfirst into the “You Must Be This Tall to Ride” Kiddie Coaster sign.

BRAD STOKES: Good thing Alfie made the cut.

Nat aims a stiff fist for Alfie’s face but Alfie shifts to one side and let’s Nat’s fist slam off the plywood board, breaking a hole into the painted cartoon measuring stick cowboy’s face. Alfie grips her and swings her through Coaster entryway, letting Nat’s back slam against the lead car of the coaster and he follows her in.

NATE HOLLIS: In a night of intense firsts, I think we’re about to become the first wrestling promotion to witness a fight take place on a roller coaster.

BRAD STOKES: Used to do this all the time back in the day. No big deal.

Alfie glances blows off Nat’s midsection and face before dumping her into the lead car of the coaster. He moves to the lever and tugs at it. It’s a little rusted from lack of use, but with some doing he flips the switch and some rundown coaster music starts up, as lights flash on the cars. Alfie snickers and returns to Nat only to have grab hold of him, slam his head off the car and pull him in just as the roller coaster cars get moving.

NATE HOLLIS: Now would be a good time to mention I’m afraid of roller coasters.

BRAD STOKES: Well, I’m afraid of clowns, so--

NATE HOLLIS: What clowns? There are no clowns.

BRAD STOKES: Acid, remember? You don’t want to see what I’m seeing right now.

The roller coaster kicks off and starts to climb an ascent with Natalie King and Alfie Tenner exchanging blows in the lead car of the coaster. Nat slams an elbow off Alfie’s collar bone and has the Hero of the Estate reeling before Alfie slaps a backhanded chop across Nat’s neck that sends the Melee Champ halfway out of the car, clinging to safety. Alfie climbs up the seat and grabs hold of Nat, standing her up and slams a fist into her jaw and clutches her throat readying another blow, the two now perched precariously on the front car of the coaster. And then Alfie and Nat notice the steep drop about to hit them.

NATE HOLLIS: I can’t watch!

Down the coaster roars with the inertia sending Alfie flailing backwards with his back slamming into the seat of one of the middle cars and Natalie King plummeting downward.

BRAD STOKES: She just fell! Natalie King fell off the roller coaster!

NATE HOLLIS: Oh man, a fall from that height…

It is a kiddie coaster, after all. The first drop is the worst, and Alfie goes around the track wincing in pain and bracing his spine spying out of the car for Nat but can’t find her. The coaster comes to a stop and Alfie limps his way out of the car. The coaster roars off, still operational.

NATE HOLLIS: I’m sure med crews are standing by. Natalie King is nowhere to be seen, fans. This doesn’t look good.

Alfie braces his back, and limps his way down the corridor of carnival rides to find an imprint in the ground where Nat’s body must’ve landed. Some blood remains, but no body. He frowns and looks around for his opponent, seeing only the busted entry to the funhouse and a lot of run down rides. And then Nat appears out of nowhere and slams him with a mallet from one of those strength test games! Alfie careens into the wooden wall of a shooting game and watches Nat angrily gripping the oversized mallet then swinging it for the fences right at him once more!

WHAM! Alfie collapses just in time and Nat slams the mallet through the shoddy wooden wall. It takes some strength but Alfie slams his foot up into Nat’s midsection and she staggers back, forced to let go of the mallet.

NATE HOLLIS: These two have been through hell and back and they’re still going!

BRAD STOKES: Yes, but have they ever flown a drone? Cause I have. It’s not easy.

NATE HOLLIS: Your list of accomplishments is truly awesome, Brad.

Alfie surges back to his feet and charges a lariat for Nat’s head only for her to duck and slam another elbow into his back that drops an exhausted Alfie Tenner to his knees. Natalie King can barely stand, but she musters enough strength to collect Alfie up and SLAM him down with a sudden snap piledriver!


Natalie King instinctively goes for a cover, but there’s no official. Instead, with Alfie seemingly out cold, she taps her own hand fairly and evenly off the ground!




Alfie wouldn’t have gotten up anyway. Knocked out after his head hit the ground, Nat can barely stand up after that successful defense.

NATE HOLLIS: And she did. Natalie King retains the Melee Championship!

BRAD STOKES: Alfie Tenner might be dead. That’s definitely boosting my spirits.

NATE HOLLIS: Nat King is almost dead.

BRAD STOKES: Yea, but she’s still moving. It’s just not the same, you know?

Nat King stumbles and props herself up with the help of rundown buildings in the old carnival, searching for her way out.

NATE HOLLIS: Right…. From Crazy Brad Stokes, and myself Nate Hollis… thanks for watching fight fans. We hope you enjoyed Melee number 4! Please join us for number 5 when things are bound to be at least equally as bizarre as they were this go around.

BRAD STOKES: Less acid, I’m hoping.

NATE HOLLIS: So are we all.

And the scene fades.

Barry the producer back in New York City at the central Fight 2 Win office space and broadcast headquarters stretches his arms looking satisfied.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Now THAT, my friends, is a show!

Claps on the back, huzzahs all around from the small team in the editing booth working with him. Barry is proud. Together they raise glasses of egg nog and clink them together in celebration of not only another show down, but an approaching 2018 full of optimism, and a brand new stadium on the way. Smiles all around.

And then the doors to the studio open and in walks a suited individual.

DARRYL THE INTERN: Sorry, we’re closed.

The newcomer barely receives a passing glance until Barry, ever the attentive producer, gets a look at the arrival’s face and almost falls out of his chair, falling over himself in fact, to greet the man.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: R-reed Hastings?

: Yes?

Barry’s hand is half extended as he approaches the man with reverence.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Reed Hastings the CEO of Netflix?

REED HASTINGS: Yes. That’s correct.

A hush falls over the studio as they recognize this is indeed the man they’ve seen in news conferences, or in newspaper headlines, the CEO of Netflix, here in their studio. Barry shakes his hand, though later Barry would remark that it seemed a little limp for his liking.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: My gosh, it is an incredible honor, sir. What can I do for you.

His voice sounds hollow as Reed Hastings looks about the studio lifelessly before adding.

REED HASTINGS: I have… word… from on high.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Oh… Oh great! Awesome. What can we do for you guys? Anything. Name it!

Reed Hastings hasn’t let go of Barry’s hand. He pulls Barry in close to himself and looks him straight in the eyes.

REED HASTINGS: I want you…. To give the Blackstar… his entitled rematch for the Melee Championship at Melee number 5.

Barry is incredulous and stammers.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: I-I…. I’m not in charge of the actual booking of the shows. I just make sure that--

Reed Hastings speaks with more force and authority.

REED HASTINGS: Give him… the rematch… at Melee… number 5.

It’s not a suggestion. Barry the Producer eyes Reed Hastings, the CEO of Netflix, and reluctantly nods his head, which turns quickly into an enthusiastic agreement.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Okay! Will do! Anything for you fine folks who have been broadcasting our show for--

REED HASTINGS: I have to go now.

Barry blinks, watching as Reed Hastings lets go of his hand, turns and exits the studio as strangely as he came. They all watch him leave before Barry turns to the team all giving mutual shrugs of incredulity. Barry eyes his hand with amazement and reverence.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Can’t believe it. Reed Hastings shook my hand.

It’ll be a story he tells for years to come. As he rejoins the team, picks up his glass of egg nog he frowns and muses out loud.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Anyone else notice his pupils were purple?

Shrugs all around. None of them noticed. Barry shrugs it off as well.

BARRY THE PRODUCER: Must be the egg nog.

A chuckle amongst them… and thge strange encounter becomes a part of office lore.
FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: This is amazing.

Francis strolls into the laundromat looking around in wonderment with Jake following in behind him.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Laundered money… stored… in an actual laundromat.

JAKE: It does seem kind of fool--

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: It’s brilliant. No one would ever think to look here.

Jake can only watch as Francis leads the way heading right to the back, just like Jake told him, there behind the counter is a tiny button that, when pushed, opens the back wall revealing a horde of cash, loads of documents, everything Francis could possibly want or need to blow Angelina Altamonte’s illicit operations wide open!

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: Egads! It was true! The Mother lode! You were right, Jake! No wonder Annalese Artendale had a mole infiltrate us to keep us from finding her horde! She'll go down faster than Nixon!

Jake stands uncomfortably aside watching Francis slide his fingers along the cash.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: This is great work, son!

JAKE: T-Thanks, sir!

Francis eyes him sternly.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: What did I tell you?

JAKE: You said to call you ‘papa’.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: That’s right. After we get my company back I’m filing the court documents for legal adoption and you’ll be heir, Jake. My heir. To the Cuppola candy bar fortune!

JAKE: The what?

Francis is two steps ahead, leafing through the documents with a slow-growing frown.


JAKE: What?

Jake shifts uncomfortably.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: These documents…

JAKE: What about them?

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: They have my name on them.

JAKE: That doesn’t make any sense. I thought this was Angelina Altamonte’s money laundering operation.

Francis is confused, looking from the documents to the cash, and back having a hard time understanding what’s just happened.

Suddenly, red and blue flashing lights shine into the laundromat through the glass. The sound of police car sirens. By the time Francis has looked up he’s staring down flashlights held by police officers training their weapons on him.



POLICE OFFICERS: Hands where we can see them.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: It’s not what it looks like.

Francis stammers as his arms raise, money in either of his raised hands.

POLICE OFFICERS: Drop the money.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: It’s not mine… This is all a misunderstanding. My soon-to-be-adoptive son Jake can explain--

Francis looks around but doesn’t see Jake. Instead, the police officers encircle him, guns trained on him, while one brings his arms down and locks on handcuffs.

POLICE OFFICERS: We got an anonymous tip about your operation here.

One of the officers investigates the documents.

POLICE OFFICER 2: Quite the little nest egg you’ve accumulated here, Mr. Cuppola.

FRANCIS FORD CUPPOLA: What? No. No. This belongs to someone else. I’m a detective.

POLICE OFFICER 2: Sure. Sure you are. We have it here in writing. Money transfers to known mobsters in New York and the outlying area all coming directly from your little safe bank account here.

Francis remains bewildered.

Outside, almost in slow motion Jake’s slipped into the back alley and breathes heavily. He can hear them dragging Francis out of the laundromat in handcuffs. Jake braces himself against the wall inhaling… and exhaling. He can hear them.

: You have the right to remain silent. If you wish to have an attorney present during questioning--”

Jake clings to the wall in shock, watching them slip Francis into one of the cars. This is really happening…. 

JAKE: Oh my god what have I done…


FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 5 Opt-in Thread
« on: December 27, 2017, 10:30:19 AM »
Hello folks,

This here is the opt-in thread for Melee 5 to be held at the end of January. Deadline will fall around the 26th, or 27th, and the show itself will go up on the 31st.

If you'd like to be booked just reply below. If you're not a regular member of the roster and want a one-off to try Fight 2 Win out you're more than welcome to reply as well.

Edit: This post will remain open until Saturday at 11:59 PM EST.

GENERAL DISCUSSION / Website is functional.
« on: December 04, 2017, 11:30:39 AM »
Website is functional. Some fine-tuning and the like.

But let me know if the pesky overlap of Staff Only and Forum links in the menu still overlap. I've had to create a separate button for the forum. Ideally there should be no overlap, but that issue was brought to my attention.

Hope y'all like it and have a reason to go there.


FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 4 Segment Sign Up Form
« on: December 03, 2017, 08:24:17 AM »
Reply below and we'll get you set up.

Remember: Segments help divide matches, set up angles, provide insight into your character, allow for possible interactions with other characters, and can even help push you to write a segment!!

I'm also open to having segments beyond what is listed here, provided there's enough demand. Get at me ya wonderful humans!

Introduction - Staff

Potential Segment Slot - Reno Nevada

Shane Clemmens VS. Gurgen Hovhanissian

Segment - Hunter Storms

Angelica Vaughn VS. Brennan Devlin  VS. Zack Fantana  VS. Starlight VS. Adam Wolfe

Segment - Alfie Tenner

Alife Tenner VS. Natalie King

Potential Segment Slot - Blackstar

Epilogue - Staff

« on: December 01, 2017, 12:57:18 PM »

Role-Play Deadline: December 26, 2017 at 11:59 PM EST
Segment Deadline: December 29, 2017 at 11:59 PM EST
Show will be Posted: Sunday, December 31, 2017

Opening Match:
Shane Clemmens (0-0) VS. Gurgen Hovhanissian (0-0)
Yerevan Zoo, Armenia

Angelica Vaughn (1-2) VS. Brennan Devlin (1-1) VS. Zack Fantana (2-1) VS. Starlight (1-0) VS. Adam Wolfe (0-3).
No Pins or Submissions. KOs or removal from field of battle.
Mystery Location, likely atop a live volcano.

Alife Tenner (1-2) VS. Natalie King (3-0)
Carny Pro Warehouse
For the Melee Championship

Site Link

Also Found:

Nate Hollis remembered the warzone of Melee number 2 as he crossed with the crosswalk towards the F2W headquarters. The Scientology Squad had been precise in their methods, but callous in their handling of the studio. Nate, after that grim broadcast day, left as rescue crews worked to free members of the studio team trapped on upper floors behind walls of fire. He vividly remembered the smashed equipment, stepping over broken glass, and destroyed signage of the F2W studio and couldn't help but reminisce starkly about what had befallen his last job at the Alpha Wrestling Empire as it underwent its own brand of turmoil. There he'd made it to episode 4 before being fired amidst shakeups and backstage politics. Here in Fight 2 Win, he assumed Episode 3 of Melee would never happen. Stranger still, no word had been given not to show up to work to ready for broadcast.

He rode the elevator up feeling dread as he watched the red numbers change floors before the doors dinged open. Nate Hollis cringed in preparation, but instead blinked as he stepped off the elevator not into the rubble of an almost entirely destroyed studio, but a floor being re-finished and sanded down by workmen. The sound of hammers, and work tools greeted him as walls were repainted; men on ladders fixed light fixtures and Nate Hollis regarded it all as if he'd gotten off on the wrong floor. He wandered down the hall as if on a different planet, into the main studio space where a large group of people he recognized as his fellow F2W employees stood listening to a presentation coming from the front of the room. There stood a resplendent Angelina Altamonte, flanked by men in suits, giving a warm run through of something Nate couldn't quite wrap his ears around. And then he saw Brad Stokes at the back of the room listening. Nate approached to stand beside his announce partner.

Brad smiled at Nate.

"Can you believe it?" Brad asked in a hushed voice so as not to interrupt the meeting. Nate's frown set deeper on his face.

"What's going on?"

Brad shook his head with serene wonder.

"Some kind of insurance policy payoff. We're getting a stadium."

Shock. Nate stood up straight to peek over the heads of his coworkers at the presentation being unveiled via power point and old-fashioned oversized chart paper. Angelina Altamonte was in her element. In a moment her eyes met Nate's and he swore she winked at him before continuing to hold the eyes of everyone in the room.

"Thanks to the opportune employment of an insurance policy covering the premises and equipment destroyed in last month's hijacking by the Scientologists, as well as the lucky financial investment of some of our silent partners, Fight 2 Win officially has enough money to ensure that construction crews break ground on the first of December for what will be the Fight 2 Win specialty sports complex."

The audience applauded. Nate felt stunned, overwhelmed, and bewildered. So fast? Just like that. He glanced speechless to Brad who looked back with a shit-eating trademark Brad Stokes grin.

"They're letting anyone propose names for it. The Stokes Stadium. How's that sound?"

Nate blinked incredulously at his announce partner, as stunned by the reality of a new sports stadium as the idea of Brad getting to name it. Nate’s eyes peered up from Brad's grandiose vision to a line of people standing beside him.

"These are my kids," Brad nodded pridefully at Nate. Nate eyed down the line of people who looked nothing like Brad with confusion that could only deepen when in Brad’s presence.

"These are grown human beings, Brad." Nate whispered.

"I just met them. I'm a father, Nate."

Brad's eyes were wide with the pride of a fresh father. Nate stuttered and stumbled, eyeing Brad's supposed children before,

"What year is this?"

Brad chewed his gum and smiled with a nod without answering. Nate counted Brad's kids and struggled with the math and the logic required to make sense of how all of it was possible before he glanced back at the presentation in progress.

"Construction is planned to take 3 months, barring unforeseen circumstances. As for the here and now, obviously," Angelina continued, "Melee 3 will continue as planned, but in a new location so as to prevent any further potential hostage situations. You’ll all sign binding Non-Disclosure Agreements to ensure secrecy. Nate Hollis, and Brad Stokes, will lead us boldly into the future while continuing to provide the same exceptional play-by-play they always have."

The gathered crowd turned at Angelina's behest to applaud Nate and his announce partner. Nate remained stunned, looking down to see a hand being offered to shake his.

"I'm Tad Stokes. Love ya stuff.” Nate blinked down at the hand, wondering whether he’d call this a nightmare or a good dream when he woke up.

“This is my son, Tad, Nate. And this is Vlad. And here’s Chad. And this is my current favorite, Thad—“

Nate stood there amidst the applause in this bizarre makeshift almost-funhouse receiving line of Brad’s lately announced extended family of kids, and Angelina’s voice wafted over it serenely.

“At long last, out of the ashes those who would see us fail tried to leave us in, Fight 2 Win is officially set to build upon a solid foundation towards a brighter future.”

Da DUN da DUN!

It’s the best, most exciting notes to be struck on the introduction to a Melee broadcast in at least a month. It’s like a newscast. The camera tilts down and dollies forward on the polished silver announce desk behind which sits Nate Hollis and Brad Stokes clad in nearly identical three-piece suits. Nate’s overcome the earlier shock and is back in his element! Brad’s tie is covered in Tie Fighters, and Nate has a simple blue tie.

NATE HOLLIS: Welcome Fight 2 Winners to another action-packed episode of Melee. With me is the man, the myth, the legend, Brad Stokes—

Brad nods like a seasoned professional.

NATE HOLLIS: And I’m Nate Hollis.

BRAD STOKES: And we are broadcasting LIVE from—

NATE HOLLIS: Shhh-shhh.

Brad glares the unspoken question at Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: It’s a secret, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: We’re in a bunker, Nate. How many bunkers are there in the United States?

NATE HOLLIS: I don’t know.

BRAD STOKES: Exactly. [Brad’s wide grin returns to look into the camera] We’re broadcasting LIVE to you from a bunker somewhere in the United States capable of withstanding the impending nuclear holocaust, and better yet, you will NEVER FIND US YA SCIENTOLOGIST ASSHOLES! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! DO YOUR WORST TO THE OVERWORLD!!! I DON'T CARE HERE NESTLED IN THE SAFETY OF MY BOMB SHELTER LOCATED IN--

Nate cringes.

NATE HOLLIS: Brad. We talked about this.

Brad straightens.

BRAD STOKES: You’re right. I’m sorry. Spare my children from your wrath, please. I haven’t learned all their names, yet.

The one sticking point Nate still hasn’t wrapped his head around is mentioned. He frowns at Brad who blinks with a warm smile into the camera, growing uncomfortable in Nate’s silence. Brad clears his throat and taps the edges of his notes on the desk, rousing Nate from his confusion.

NATE HOLLIS: Right. For those of you not currently binge-watching us, starting in at episode 3, let me catch you up to speed. Last Episode the hated Blackstar and his Scientology Squad of soldiers hijacked our broadcast in order to hold us hostage.

BRAD STOKES: Did we ever figure out why they did that?

NATE HOLLIS: To get information regarding the nature of the hijacking of their Starship currently in orbit around the planet earth which took place on the first episode of Melee. That cost Blackstar a possible victory and the Melee title belt which ended up in the hands of our current champion, Natalie King.

BRAD STOKES: Right. Can’t forget the spaceship hijack fiasco that revealed the existence of space aliens to the world. And, the only slightly less startling revelation that singing sensation CHER has now died. Did they actually get the information they were looking for?

Nate has to think about it.

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure, actually.

Silence between the commentators as they contemplate last month’s harrowing ordeal that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage and even almost took Brad’s life. Finally,

BRAD STOKES:  Kind of makes you wonder what it was all for.

NATE HOLLIS: I guess...

Another beat as the two commentators contemplate their lives. And then,

NATE HOLLIS: So, anyway, tonight, in order to keep our broadcast secure, Brad and I will be calling all the action from a secret, undisclosed location.

BRAD STOKES: Just as God intended.

NATE HOLLIS: Sure. And what a night of action it is. We have the debut of Starlight as she goes head to head with the leader of the Puppet Pals himself, Adam Wolfe.

BRAD STOKES: A fight sure to impress as we get our first look inside—

Brad reads the notes in front of him with a squint.

BRAD STOKES: Star…Light’s… Dimension…?

NATE HOLLIS: True. Here at Fight 2 Win, we bring the fight to the competitors. We bring the cameras to a venue especially selected by our combatants and watch the combat take place from the safety of this here broadcast studio.

BRAD STOKES: But not forever.

NATE HOLLIS: That’s right, fight fans. The big news we’ve been cleared to tell you about is this:


Brad’s excitement causes the audio to clip a second.


Brad doesn’t listen.


Nate looks to the sound guy off-camera with a "cut him off" signal with his hand. Brad’s audio is cut off before he can finish his sentence.Nate smiles with Brad beside him shouting his lungs out with no one to hear him.

NATE HOLLIS: It’s true. If all goes to plan, in three months time, all these fighters are going to be walking down to the ring in high defintion audio to their hand-selected music which, up till now, hasn’t meant much, in our very own self-styled sports complex!

Brad, winded, sits back down, his audio cuts back in. He’s out of breath.

BRAD STOKES: But that’s not all!

NATE HOLLIS: No it is not. We need help naming the stadium, friends. You pitch us your ideas for the Fight 2 Win Stadium, get at us on Twitter, or however you'd like to offer suggestions, and there’s a chance it’s going to be the name we’re calling the stadium forever after!

BRAD STOKES: Fantana Hall!

NATE HOLLIS: Or King’s Palace.

BRAD STOKES: The Devlin Dome!

NATE HOLLIS: The board will vote on the suggestions and announce the winner the closer we get to completion.

BRAD STOKES: The A$hley Quidd Center!

NATE HOLLIS: That’s enough, Brad. They get the idea.

BRAD STOKES: I don’t think they do. This world is an unenlightened cesspool, and it's up to me to educate the unwashed masses.

NATE HOLLIS: Better get on that.

BRAD STOKES: I'm biding my time.

NATE HOLLIS: As for tonight, not only will we see the debut of Starlight, we’ll see a title fight to mark the calendars for as Zack Fantana challenges Natalie King for her Melee Championship.

BRAD STOKES: Also gonna see Brennan Devlin and Ric Greene prove that girls can’t wrestle.

NATE HOLLIS: I wouldn’t count on it.

BRAD STOKES: Yeah, but what do you know?

NATE HOLLIS: I know when to keep my mouth shut in the midst of a media environment growing increasingly aware of sexism. A skill you’ve yet to master.

BRAD STOKES: Haha, that’s so true. It’s like written in the stars, Nate. It’s like a law of nature! I’m gonna fuck-up! HAHA.

NATE HOLLIS: Right. Also written in the stars is the return of Blackstar as he combats Alfie Tenner on Hollywood Boulevard.

BRAD STOKES: Nice segue!

NATE HOLLIS: I thought so. We take you there now to watch the action unfold.

BRAD STOKES: You’re getting pretty good at this, Nate. Your fresh new sound will play nicely in our fresh new stadium.

NATE HOLLIS: It plays pretty nicely right here, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Trying to segue, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: Let’s cut to the match.


The camera is focused on a series of stars on the walk of fame. We tilt up to see the forecourt of the famed Chinese theater on Hollywood Boulevard. There is a ring set up, with a crowd surrounding it. Standing room only.

From out of one set of doors at the side of the theater comes Alfie Tenner looking focused on his way to the ring with A$hley Quidd behind him giving him encouraging pats on the back amid a hail of cheers from people in the crowd who recognize Alfie Tenner. He climbs into the ring and swings a few warm-up punches.

And then, on the other side of the theater, another set of doors swing open, and out steps The Blackstar looking grim and imposing. He strides purposefully towards the ring, his eye surveying his audience before locking his sight on Alfie Tenner and setting a stoic expression of impending violence on his face. He climbs into the ring and glares disdainfully at his opponent.

NATE HOLLIS: And there they are, fight fans. This one’s going to be a good one—

In the ring, Blackstar holds up a hand.


BRAD STOKES: Uhh… he what?

Suddenly, a semi-truck roars down the boulevard. It stops with the flatbed out front of the entrance.

BRAD STOKES: Uhh… is that--

Beck and his full band are already ready. The opening d-tuned guitar plays the opening notes of “Loser”. The drums enter. The Blackstar lowers his hand as if signaling for the fight to begin.

NATE HOLLIS: Unorthodox introduction to a fight.

BRAD STOKES: Why Beck? Why didn’t he get Drake to play? Drake’s so hot right now.

NATE HOLLIS: I don’t think Drake’s a Scientologist.

BRAD STOKES: Oh yeah.  Well, still, tribe mentality isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. Just ask Lemmings.

NATE HOLLIS: That's actually a myth about Lemmings. The truth is--

BRAD STOKES: No one cares, Nate.

Blackstar strides confidently from his corner as Beck and his band play on. Alfie Tenner isn’t standing on ceremony. He rushes Blackstar with a rising knee that slams surprise up into Blackstar’s jaw and immediately staggers him backward. Alfie wastes no time taking advantage of Blackstar’s being momentarily stunned by gripping hold of Blackstar’s arm and dragging him down to the canvas into an arm lock!

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie Tenner is going to work quickly on The Blackstar. He’s working that arm like he means business.

BRAD STOKES: Someone needs to avenge the damage that bastard Scientologist did to our studio.

NATE HOLLIS: Technically, he handed Angelina Altamonte an open door to landing our stadium, so I’m not sure that’s something he needs to be punished for.


Alfie has the arm lock on tight and Blackstar is visibly in pain. Alfie grits his teeth, digs on foot into the side of Blackstar, tight into his ribs, and slams his other foot unexpectedly off Blackstar’s face!

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie Tenner is bringing the offence right now against Blackstar! And I’m not sure the Scientologist Supreme has an answer to it.

BRAD STOKES: And Beck’s hitting that chorus with the long note, Nate. I didn’t think he had it in him, but he does! Loving the musical accompaniment.

Blackstar unexpectedly wrenches his own arm painfully sideways like he’s dislocating it in an effort to free himself from Alfie’s arm lock! Alfie hangs on tight, slamming his heel once more into Blackstar’s face, which seems to be enough for Blackstar to will his way out of the arm lock much to Alfie’s surprise and rise to his knee with an angry glare. Alfie is up to his feet in a hurry and rushing Blackstar once more, only this time Blackstar catches Alfie before he can execute further offence and SLAMS Alfie across the canvas with an exploder suplex!

NATE HOLLIS: Stunningly quick reversal of fortune there for Alfie Tenner.

BRAD STOKES: I saw it coming.

Blackstar winces as he feels the shoulder Alfie was working on with the arm lock and half joints it back into place with an uncomfortable grimace before rising to his feet. Alfie is already climbing up to his feet with the help of the ropes but Blackstar moves in and slams a knee into Alfie’s back pinning him against the ropes. Another slam of the knee into Alfie’s spine, then another before forcing his knee into Alfie’s back to agonize Alfie across the ropes before letting up and performing his TAUNT of SUPREMACY!

NATE HOLLIS: That crowd’s a mixed bag. I’m not sure every one of them is a supporter of the Scientologist Supreme.

BRAD STOKES: We all know the only true religion is Dunkin Donuts, Nate.


BRAD STOKES: You heard me. Don’t waste your time on this phony space pirate religion. Enjoy a cream glazed with a dunk in your two-cream and two-sugar latte and just let the universe flow over you like smooth, silky cream pouring into the coffee of your soul, man.

NATE HOLLIS: Are you alright?

BRAD STOKES: Becoming a father has turned me into a wise old sage, Nate. You should the new slippers I bought. Matches my bathrobe.

NATE HOLLIS: I'll pass.

Blackstar grips the back of Alfie’s head and forces him up to his feet only to be greeted with a swift elbow thrust up under Blackstar’s jaw for his trouble! Alfie takes the opportunity to slam a knee into Blackstar’s midsection to double him over, then absolutely plants Blackstar down into the canvas with a DDT! Alfie quickly maneuvers around the downed Blackstar, angling to get him into a reverse naked choke only for Blackstar to rise up angrily, disrupting Alfie’s movement and slams a back elbow into Tenner that staggers him backward. Blackstar glares at Alfie with disdain, regarding the insolence it requires to attack him as Alfie has with disrespect as he swipes repeated knife-edge chops across Alfie’s bare chest, backing him into the ropes.

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie’s having trouble keeping Blackstar down for long enough to capitalize on his momentum.

BRAD STOKES: It’ll happen. This Scientology punk needs a good ass kicking to realize you don’t mess with Brad Stokes!

NATE HOLLIS: I don’t think Alfie’s representing you, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Well fuck him, then.

Blackstar lines up another backhanded chop that has the crowd wincing along with Alfie. Blackstar grins at his control of the match before Irish whipping Alfie into the opposite ropes and readies for the return with a clothesline which Alfie ducks and turns it into a stunning back body drop he rolls into a quick schoolboy pin!




Blackstar indignantly kicks out with a glare at Alfie as he rubs the back of his neck, obviously not pleased with Alfie’s effect on him. Alfie is on his feet with a crooked and confident grin, lifting his fists up at the ready. Blackstar snarls and approaches Alfie half-daring him to take a swing, which Alfie does only to have Blackstar block it with an arm, casting the blow aside and forcing Alfie to back up as Blackstar strides towards him.

NATE HOLLIS: Ever the intimidator, Blackstar is practically daring Alfie to try to him him.

BRAD STOKES: Kick him in the nuts. That’ll get him.

Alfie takes another swing with the left which Blackstar forces to glance off his shoulder before aiming a kick to Alfie’s thigh which Alfie takes and uses the opening to slam a stiff rabbit punch into Blackstar’s side.

BRAD STOKES: It's no kick to the nuts, but that got him!

Indeed, Blackstar wasn’t expecting the swift retaliation. Alfie steps in to slam Blackstar down with a Russian Leg Sweep, only for Blackstar to invert and bring Alfie down hard and then roll him over for the cover!



Alfie powers out with authority, much to Blackstar’s chagrin.

NATE HOLLIS: Neither of these competitors is hinting at slowing down.

BRAD STOKES: Give ‘em a good kick to the balls. That’ll do ‘er.

NATE HOLLIS: That's enough, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: It's never enough, Nate. Don't test me. I’m a father. I’ll kick your ass.

Alfie is up, but not before Blackstar locks him into a side headlock and slams him down to the canvas with a bulldog he’s not entirely finished with, driving himself, and Alfie back up to his feet about to deliver another but Alfie pushes his head free sending Blackstar staggering forward. Alfie rushes him before he can turn around and slams a dropkick into Blackstars back that sends the Scientologist Supreme into the turnbuckle! With the crowd pumped, Alfie takes a running headstart and aims a splash into Blackstar’s back only for Blackstar to move out of the way with but seconds to spare!

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie just got a face full of the turnbuckle there!

As Alfie bounces back, stunned, off the turnbuckle, Blackstar wastes no time rebounding off the ropes and nailing Alfie with a high impact lariatthat downs Alfie to his knees!

NATE HOLLIS: The Reality Adjustment! Alfie’s in trouble!

And with that momentum, Blackstar lifts off the middle rope and slams a shin kick to the back of Alfie’s head!

NATE HOLLIS: The Disconnection!

BRAD STOKES: Damn! Alfie might be out!

Blackstar forcefully kicks Alfie over onto his back and lands for a soft, disdainful cover.




BRAD STOKES: Son of a… I can’t believe that PONCE won.

NATE HOLLIS: Alfie put up a valiant effort, but in the end Blackstar came out on top.

Blackstar rises smugly, glaring down at Alfie. Before his smugness can amount to anything more, the referee approaches only to be stopped by Blackstar.

BLACKSTAR: You DARE approach me?

The referee nervously stops and eyes Blackstar.

REFEREE: I—I have this.

He holds up a t-shirt.

Blackstar eyes the shirt with smug displeasure.

BLACKSTAR: This is neither a SIZE nor a COLOR that appeals to me. EXPLAIN yourself.

REFEREE: [Sheepishly] It-it’s actually for A-Alfie Tenner.

Blackstar’s eyes narrow angrily. He plucks the shirt from the referee’s hands with distaste and glares at it a moment before tossing it behind him and letting it land over Alfie’s face and steps with purpose out of the ring.

NATE HOLLIS: And there you have it! Alfie Tenner won the t-shirt tonight!

BRAD STOKES: Bitchin’ t-shirt. Can’t believe that Scientology punk didn’t just take the shirt.

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure the Blackstar goes in for mindless pleasures, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Lame. He better damn well get his soon, Nate. Revenge is making me thirsty.

As the sun sets, a mob of angry citizens descend on City Hall, with pitchforks and lit torches hoisted in the air, and signs that read JUSTICE FOR CHER and SCIENTOLOGY KILLS. All of them yelling. Their eyes full of madness.

LAPD officers have formed a barricade to prevent them from storming into the building. For now, the mob has taken position on the stairs leading up to the line of police officers. They are screaming directly at the cops, threatening them with violence if they aren’t allowed in. With every second, the situation grows more dangerous and there is no sign of an end to the standoff…until—

A loud horn cuts through the discord. The citizens turn around to see a double decker bus pull up to the curb. Its hydraulic brakes hiss as it comes to a stop. Then the doors opens and two men come bouncing out of the bus. One of them is operating a large digital video camera. The other has a boom mic held up in the air and an audio recorder dangling from his shoulder. Both are wearing t-shirts with the A&E logo on the back.

Sweaty and out-of-shape, they run slowly up the steps, all the way, to take a spot behind the mob whose anger has clouded with confusion.

CAMERA OPERATOR: [Into his walkie talkie] We’re in place and rolling.

There’s movement inside the bus—a figure climbing the stairs, then walking out onto the open-air upper deck. The silhouette approaches the rail to face the crowd and is bathed in the torchlight. The figure is a woman—gorgeous, with long, dark hair and dressed head to toe in Alexander McQueen. She is instantly recognized as:

MOB: (shouting) Leah! Leah Remini! Remini! Remini!

TV’s Leah Remini snaps her fingers, summoning a production assistant with a microphone. She takes it and waves the P.A. off.

LEAH REMINI: People of Los Angeles.

Her voice booms out of the bus’ intercom system.

LH: You came to City Hall looking for justice, but I have some unfortunate news. Mayor Garcetti is nothing more than another puppet of the Church of Scientology.

The mob gets riled up. Pitchforks and torches stab into the air.

LH: He is another in a long line of politicians who turn a blind eye to the LIES of David Miscavige, Tom Cruise, and the so-called Supreme Leader of Scientology—Blackstar. But worry not, because me and my crack production team are here.

The crowd yells in approval.

LH: Last month, the Church of Scientology murdered Cher on Netflix for the whole world to see, and what happened? Nothing! How can that be? Why haven’t the police arrested these maniacs? I’ll tell you why. Because Scientology controls Netflix. It controls the media. It controls the police. People are afraid to stand against them, but you know who isn’t?



The people respond with cheers. They go for half a minute before she quiets them down with a wave of her hand.

LH: But I have to warn you, if it is justice you want, then you should look elsewhere. I am not here for justice. There is no justice in a world where men can murder Cher live on the internet without fear of repercussions. What I offer is VENGEANCE.

She turns, pointing behind her toward the Hollywood sign in the distance, and Castle Stargazer sitting atop the mountain.

LH: THAT is where Blackstar is. I am going to drive this fucking bus all the way to its front doors. If they don’t open, I’ll ram them down! If his guards get in my way, I’ll run them over! I’ll climb to the highest tower until I find that purple son of a bitch, and them I am going to do what these cowards in the LAPD don’t have the guts to do. I’m going to KILL HIM.

The crowd is enraged.

LH: I only have one question: Who’s coming with me?!

She drops the microphone and throws her arms up. The mass of people rush down the steps toward the bus, throwing their torches aside. One by one they file onto the bus with their pitchforks and rage, but there are too many bodies and too few seats. Panic threatens a stampede when people start shoving and forcing their way ahead.

Honk honk!

Another double decker bus rolls up behind that one. Half of the group splits off to head for it. On the steps of City Hall, the camera crew stops recording and heads down to board the bus as well.

Leah Remini remains in place. Her hands grip the railing and she leans out to watch the maddened people. A smile plays across her lips.

LH: Tonight, I end Scientology. Once and for all.

NATE HOLLIS: And here we fight fans, onto match 2 on the night.

BRAD STOKES: What exactly is this room supposed to be about?

NATE HOLLIS: Well, Brad, it’s Starlight’s Dimension.  It’s a veritable smorgasbord of endless possibilities!

Adam Wolfe strolls out of a spiraled wall and into what gives off the impression of a scene from Superjail: there are various oddities and cosmic haunts that surround the large rectangular space.  A giant floating eyeball gives a wink to the Franchinger.  The Franchinger also winks back to the shock of Adam, who had no control whatsoever in making the puppet return the gesture.

FRANCHINGER: *random robotized mumbling*

ADAM WOLFE: What the…


Without warning, Wolfe begins to jam the Franchinger down his throat, however the surprised look is not from the immediate gagging but from the loss of control of his own finger.  He vomits a viscous dark fluid out of his mouth, and the puddle of pre-digestion begins to slowly materialize into the form of Starlight with a demonic smile on her face.

NATE HOLLIS: Well, just when we thought we’d seen everything, fans…only in F2W would an opponent make their grand entrance directly out of someone’s esophagus.

BRAD STOKES: Eh, not that impressive.  Did I mention to you, Nate, that I’ve recently become a father?

NATE HOLLIS: You may have mentioned it, yes.

BRAD STOKES: Excellent. Just making sure.

Wolfe, still thoroughly confused, manages to, at the very least, get into a fighting stance.  And by fighting stance, we mean that he’s opted for the one-legged crane a-la Karate Kid.  However, a kick is not the first thing he decides to throw.


Taking a queue from the movie Hot Rod, Wolfe throws a fairly weak strike with plenty of theatrics…which goes right through Starlight.

BRAD STOKES: It’s…it’s just a mirage…

NATE HOLLIS: Starlight is really using her dimension to her advantage, as she is starting the pace off by toying with Adam.  But where is she?

A voice is heard calling out to Adam, who turns to see a painting of the American Gothic.  The lips of the man donning the pitchfork begin to move in sync: it is the eerie and recognizable voice of Mister J.

MISTER J: Welcome home, Mister Wolfe.  You’ve made it all the way here, but you need have not traveled this way the whole time.

The setting then completely evaporates, leaving Adam and the Franchinger in a white-washed background.  Without warning, though, the room begins to materialize into the main hall of the Puppet Pals Play Pen.  Wolfe is not greeted with a warm reception from his puppets, though.  Instead, he is jumped on from behind by a non-holographic Starlight.  Using the point of her boot, she jams a foot directly into the back of his femur, bringing him quickly to his knees.

NATE HOLLIS: Starlight is apparently showing the F2W audience that she knows exactly how to use her mystique to her advantage, as the Last Ronin has effectively confused Adam Wolfe enough to capitalize in the early stages of this fight!

BRAD STOKES: Please. Adam Wolfe’s brain looks like a six-year-old’s doodling.  There is nothing that he isn’t prepared for, Hollis. Nothing!

As if Starlight had heard Brad, she proceeds to lock her arm around Wolfe’s neck in a rear naked choke.  Within full view of Adam’s beloved puppets, she gives a slight nod and whispers into his ear, pointing to them with her free arm. The puppets then spontaneously combust into flames.


BRAD STOKES: Okay, maybe he wasn’t ready for that. But the next time he’s got this!

With the magic show complete, Starlight turns her focus towards offense, leap-frogging over Wolfe’s head and delivering a nasty mule kick to his jaw.  Keeping up with the offensive, she throws carefully-placed strikes with the strength of haymakers to the head and chest, softening him up to weaken Adam’s height and weight advantage.

Wolfe is certainly woozy, but despite the power behind the fists and forearms of the Last Ronin, his eyes revert back to a state of panic as he watches his beloved toys burn like wooden torches.  Surprisingly, despite the strength of the flames, they have not even shown a sign of disintegration.  Starlight brings Wolfe up to his feet, but seems to be toying with Adam, as she gives him about five seconds to collect his bearings.

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure what she’s setting up here, but Adam Wolfe is not one you normally want to allow a breather.

BRAD STOKES: He’s the human reset button!  But I don’t think it matters – he cares way too much about those puppets to even focus on getting a leg back up in this fight!

Brad is correct, as Adam simply starts to rush toward the puppets to put out the fire with his body.  However, he doesn’t make it too far, as it was merely a setup for Starlight to spit a blinding mist into his face!

NATE HOLLIS: The strategic move paid off, as Wolfe is now visually impaired!

BRAD STOKES: And he can’t even see, Nate!

NATE HOLLIS: …color commentary, folks.

Wolfe, now flailing his arms for dear life, is of course oblivious to the fact that Starlight has now placed herself in a crouching position and is prepared to pounce and finish the drill.  Unfortunately, what she did not count on is the omnipresence of one man…

FRANCHINGER: Adam, she’s to your left!  She’s about to spear you!

BRAD STOKES: Good thing that puppet is with him, or Wolfe wouldn’t stand a chance.

NATE HOLLIS: I’d be surprised, but we’re currently watching a fight unfold in an otherworldly dimension inhabited by a demon.

At this point, Starlight had shot off like a dart, but the finger puppet’s warning was just enough to allow for Adam to side-step her attempt.  She crashes to the ground, but is quick to rise to her feet and recuperate.  Still blinded, Wolfe seeks out the advice of his partner.

ADAM WOLFE: Now what? Franchinger! Guide me, Obi Wan!

Wolfe stands at the ready like a blind Luke Skywalker trying to sense the presence of the training droid threatening to blast him with a training laser.

FRANCHINGER: I don’t know!  I’m not the fighter here!  I guess…um…shove me in her eye! 3 degrees starboard, HIYAAA!


Wolfe lunges in the direction Franchinger has indicated only for Starlight to block the blow, casting Adam’s arm to the side and through gritted teeth grips Adam’s hand, and more importantly the Franchinger puppet! With one fell pull Starlight rips the puppet off Adam’s finger!


And Adam drops to his knees clutching his hand in pure, unadulterated shock.


Adam agonizes as Starlight stands with a smirk on her face, disappearing the Franchinger puppet into a tiny bag that disappears as quick as it appeared.

BRAD STOKES: He knows he hasn’t lost his hand, right?

NATE HOLLIS: I’m not sure. He could be re-enacting a scene from Star Wars here…

With Adam Wolfe down, Starlight suddenly rushes him and SLAMS a Boston Knee Party into Adam’s head knocking him senselessly down to the ground. Starlight goes for the cover.




NATE HOLLIS: Starlight has done it! She’s beaten Adam Wolfe!

BRAD STOKES: And she stole the Franchinger!

Half-giddy, Starlight rises up off the pained and writhing Adam Wolfe and strides off with a smirking peek back at him over her shoulder as she walks right into one of the walls and disappears. A voice echoes through the hall,

MISTER J: What time is it, Mister Wolfe?

Adam grips his wrist, stumbling around still blind, groping madly for his Franchinger.

MISTER J: Time for you to leave.

And it’s like the entire room is being vacuumed into a black hole, being scrunched up tighter than a pinhead before disappearing entirely, leaving Adam Wolfe inside of his TRUE Puppet Pals Play Pen, illuminated by more darkness than light gripping his hand in pain.

BRAD STOKES: That is fuckin’ harsh…

The double-decker busses roar up the winding road, past the Hollywood Sign, to the very top of the mountain where CASTLE STARGAZER awaits. The busses roll through the open portcullis and swerve into the outer courtyard before grinding to a stop outside the barbican. There are no Scientologists to be seen. Stargazer appears deserted…

CLOSE ON: Leah Remini, sitting behind the wheel of the first bus, looks into the A&E camera over her shoulder.

LH: I don’t fucking believe this.

One of the angry citizens shouts out:

CITIZEN: Did we miss him?

LH: (pissed off) He’s fucking in there. I can feel it. Come on.

She opens the accordian doors and exits the bus, followed closely by the cameraman and sound guy. She waits as the people file off the busses, with a bit less gusto than before.

LH: Good evening, comrades.

MOB: Where are the guards? Yeah! Are they gone? We missed them!

Remini puts two fingers to her lips and whistles loudly, cutting through the dissonant voices. The personal assistant comes out of the crowd to hand Remini the microphone again.

The actress waits a beat, shaking her head, before speaking. Her voice cracks from the tincan speakers.

LH: You want to know where the guards are? You want to know why we aren’t staring down the barrels of space lasers wielded by stormtrooper knock-offs? Because that purple-skinned dickhole is fucking scared. He can’t kill all of us without exposing his cult for the monsters they truly are. So they pulled back and now he’s hoping we’ll just leave empty handed. Well, I got news for him. I’m not going anywhere.

She pointed to the tallest of the castle towers.

LH: He’s in there. I know it in my soul…

She stops for a moment, then continues.

LH: Soul—that word should have new meaning for all of us today. I look around here and I see real people with real faith. People who believe in the power of the spirit, no matter the god they pray to. Every religion on this earth believes in an indelible spirit—except for one.


LH: (cont'd) These Scientologists don’t believe in souls. They think our bodies are full of millions of tiny little aliens who are trying to make us sick, and the only way to learn to control them is to pay millions of dollars to the Church of Scientology.

She looks over the faces.

LH: We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We must be UNITED in our common interests. These assholes killed CHER.

MOB: (whistles and cheers) YEAH!

LH: Perhaps it’s fate that today we stand at the beginning of the holiday season, when we will once again be fighting for our right to celebrate our chosen faiths, which are very real and totally not fake like Scientology.

Beat. Someone clears their throat in the background.

LH: We are also fighting for our right to live, to exist, because Blackstar wants to convert everyone on this planet to Scientology. He wants to infect us with his insanity and drain our bank accounts, forcing us to work for a basic cable channel to make ends meet. But I say to you, NO MORE.

LH: (cont’d) Today, the people of earth declare, ‘We will not go quietly into the night!…We will not vanish without a fight!…We’re going to live on!…We’re going to survive!…’


LH: Today we celebrate…our Independence Day!!!

The crowd erupts into applause and cheers. Pitchforks raise into the air in waves. Remini hands off the microphone and turns to the A&E crew.

LH: You two are with me.

She then looks back to the mob and picks out four strapping men in bright red t-shirts, with C-H-E-R spelled out across their chests in white letters.

LH: You guys, too. Come on.

She directs the rest of the mob to take strategic positions in the courtyard in case any Scientologists show up. Then, with the TV crew and the four men from the crowd, she marches through the gatehouse and into the castle.

LH: Let’s go fuck this clown in his tax-exempt asshole.

Leah Remini leads the A&E crew and the four red shirted protesters inside.

Brennan Devlin’s venue is called The Altar. It’s an old church situated on the outskirts of San Andreas, California.

NATE HOLLIS: We’re back on the scene with match number 3, fight fans. And this one’s going to take us to Brennan Devlin’s altar.

BRAD STOKES: This place is almost as impressive as I am, Nate. Almost.

Our camera is overhead of the church grounds that stand silent in the night. Crickets chirp around the Brennan Devlin statue spewing water in the fountain. And a short distance from there is the beaming statue of Ramona, Devlin’s longtime consort, and potentially soon-to-be wife.  A slow crane shot carries us over the steeple and into a momentary hanging shot on the full moon overhead before we fade into a walk through the woods towards a brightly lit clearing where bleachers are set up with a throng of fans surrounding an open space.

NATE HOLLIS: Brennan Devlin is never short on showmanship.

BRAD STOKES: Place needs more Stokes, Nate.

Inside three of them stand. Brennan Devlin on one edge of the grassy clearing, Ric Greene opposite him, and Angelica Vaughn rounding out the obtuse triangle of fighters eyeing each other down and moving closer to the center of the small field edged in by bleachers filled with fans.

NATE HOLLIS: Our first three-way dance to be held on an episode of F2W’s Melee. And we’re about to get right down to it.

Ric Greene swings first, taking a swipe at Devlin who was clearly expecting Vaughn to strike first. Devlin still manages to narrowly dodge the quick swipe of Greene’s fist, and instead he walks right into a high kick from the 5’9, most of it leg, of Angelica Vaughn who slams a standing sidekick into Greene’s jaw, blasting him sideways.

NATE HOLLIS: Strong strikers, each of these competitors. Expect blood here, fans.

BRAD STOKES: I expect blood every time I leave the house, Nate. Other people’s blood. Never mine.

NATE HOLLIS: That’s great, Brad.

Vaughn immediately turns her attention to Devlin, there’s animosity here, and she unleashes an even quicker sidekick that clips Devlin and sends him staggering with surprise. Vaughn’s about to press her advantage as Devlin puts up his fists, readying to fight, and then takes off running through the trees.

BRAD STOKES: WHAT?! AHAHAHA! Devlin took off running! What a coward!

NATE HOLLIS: Don’t be so quick to judge, there may be method to his madness.

Greene recovers to see Vaughn racing after Devlin. Ric’s got that “wtf” look and decides to stand and watch the Cincinatti Hit Girls kicker charge after Devlin.

BRAD STOKES: At least Ric Greene seems like the smart one here, more inclined to not waste his time chasing after people.

The camera tracks with Devlin, intercut with his pursuer Angelica Vaughn racing after him at a frenetic pace.

BRAD STOKES: How’d it work with Blackstar? PLAY INTENSE MUSIC.

No music starts.

BRAD STOKES: I forgot, Beck doesn’t do that.

NATE HOLLIS: Might have something to do with it.

BRAD STOKES: I'm sure of it.

Devlin knows the grounds far better than Angelica and he darts and weaves around trees purposefully with Vaughn in hot pursuit. She rounds a tree and looks ahead to the see the old church but is quickly caught by an unexpected arm drag from Devlin who’d been hiding behind a tree in wait for the Vaughnemous One who lands in a pile of pine needles.

NATE HOLLIS: As I suspected, Devlin was luring Angelica to chase him and is now enjoying the upper hand!

With a snicker, Brennan stands over Vaughn before jumping up looking to land with a double foot stomp but Vaughn rolls out of the way. Brennan glares after her as Angelica scrambles to her feet. But Devlin’s not standing for long, finding himself on the wrong end of a jumping side kick to his head from a Ric Greene who decided he’d waited too long. Devlin is on his back before he knows it and Greene mounts him for some punches but Devlin’s knees are up and slamming into his back before he can get any leverage and he tumbles off giving Devlin room to kickflip up to a stand.

NATE HOLLIS: It’s both blessing and curse in a three-way fight. You’ve got to be ever conscious of the third opponent in the fight. You can’t lose sight of anybody or else you end up paying for it like Devlin did right there.

Devlin locks eyes with Vaughn who has quickly caught wind of the type of fight THIS is going to be and takes off for the old church with Devlin watching with narrowed, gleaming eyes. This is his venue, and he watches as Vaughn unwittingly disappears into one of the many attack dog traps hidden on the grounds!

BRAD STOKES: This is wild. Devlin must’ve been prepping those grounds for weeks in advance.

NATE HOLLIS: That seems to be the case, Brad.

Devlin snickers, believing Vaughn to be out of the picture, he turns in time to catch a wicked fence punch from Ric Greene who goes to work slamming a series of hard rights into Devlin’s face before slamming his head off a tree!

NATE HOLLIS: Everyime we get a look at Ric Greene he is consistently out to prove he’s one of the baddest men currently on the Fight 2 Win Roster. He almost crushed Devlin’s head right there like a cantaloupe.

BRAD STOKES: Should be wearing hard hats on those premises. That’s a hazard.

NATE HOLLIS: I thought you wanted to see blood?

BRAD STOKES: True, but I’m also a father, Nate.

Devlin’s stunned but that doesn’t stop him from dropping Greene with a facebuster into the dirt and pine needles. Devlin staggers to his feet and drops a pair of knees right into Greene’s spine, and follows it with a stiff kick into Ric’s side to make sure he’s down.

NATE HOLLIS: Devlin’s been around long enough in this business to recognize those moments when you make sure your opponent won’t be getting back up. Three-way matches are the closest things to clutch opportunities as you can get in a wrestling context.

BRAD STOKES: What the hell are you talking about?

NATE HOLLIS: I’m attempting to offer insight to the viewers at home, Brad.



BRAD STOKES: Just checking.

Devlin turns his curiosity to Vaughn and the attack dog pit. He moves to check in on her, certain she’s faced a grim fate only to be surprised as Vaughn swings her feet up to connect with Devlin’s jaw and letting Angelica up out of the dog pit filled with vicious, snarling, barking Pomeranians.

BRAD STOKES: Are those Pomeranians?

NATE HOLLIS: They are indeed Pomeranians, yes.

BRAD STOKES: That’s the most adorable death-trap I’ve ever seen.

NATE HOLLIS: It is definitely up there.

Vaughn has Devlin back up to his feet, doubled over and slammed down with a scissor kick that looks to knock Devlin senseless! Vaughn’s about to drop down for the cover when Ric Greene plays spoiler once more by leaping and slamming Vaughn with an impressive swinging neckbreaker onto the ground. Greene is up but not quick enough to capitalize with Vaughn slamming both of her feet up into his midsection and getting to her feet and slamming a stiff kick up into Greene’s jaw and staggering him uncontrollably backward into the water fountain, with the water spout spewing out of Devlin’s mouth onto Greene’s head!

NATE HOLLIS: Not the place Ric Greene wanted to end up!

BRAD STOKES: Insight, huh? Watch this: Correction, Nate. That’s exactly where Ric Greene wants to be, as a cool shower can just be the thing a competitor needs to get his head back in the game. HA! How’s that, ya putz?

NATE HOLLIS: Shut up, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Ah, touche. Doing the ol' 'use Brad's Bits against him ploy, huh? Same thing my ex-wife did.

NATE HOLLIS: You mean the mother of all 8 of your children?

BRAD STOKES: 7. And no. This is a different wife. I don't think I actually know those kid's moms.


BRAD STOKES: How about this match? Lovin' Devlin and Greene. And this chick they're fighting seems okay.


Vaughn’s distracted with her handiwork and doesn’t see Devlin rise up and slam her down with a double knee backbreaker and quickly hooks the leg for a cover, but the referee is still trying to find where they went. Devlin scowls, hearing the referee lost in the woods somewhere. He’s about to stand up to berate the man when he’s caught by Vaughn with a headscissor takedown she can’t capitalize on as once more Ric Greene has exited, soaking wet, from the fountain and slammed a stiff right hand into Vaughn to keep her down.

NATE HOLLIS: Once more, Ric Greene is there to halt the momentum of anyone seemingly getting close to getting an upper hand here!

Greene grabs Devlin up to his feet and brings him over to the lip of the fountain about to slam Devlin’s face off the stone but Devlin brings up an elbow into Greene’s chest, halting that plan, and slams Greene’s face off the stone himself!

BRAD STOKES: I love how vicious these two are. You’d NEVER get that with Angelica Vaughn. She’s all cutesy-boo flowers and puppy dog tails. Too light and fluffy. She’s in there with killers.

NATE HOLLIS: And she’s holding her own quite nicely, I’d say!

BRAD STOKES: That’s a matter of opinion.

Vaughn is up to her feet. The referee has emerged from the woods looking winded but ready to do his job after being lost for 5 minutes. Vaughn sees an opportunity as Devlin has dunked Greene’s head under the water to quickly grip Devlin by the hair and angrily tug him back and into a snap inverted suplex that has got to hurt with Devlin’s body slamming off the ground like that.

NATE HOLLIS: Vaughn’s got a lot of reason to be angry with Devlin after the way he’s treated her, and the things he’s had to say not only about her, but about females in the wrestling industry.

BRAD STOKES: All completely true.


BRAD STOKES: What? Girls can’t wrestle.

NATE HOLLIS: You’re gonna get us cancelled.

BRAD STOKES: We’re under contract.

NATE HOLLIS: Good point.

BRAD STOKES: I can say as many offensive statements as I damn well please, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: Please don’t.


Vaughn has Devlin back up and locked into a double underhook suplex that takes even her by surprise as she slams Devlin HARD into the ground then moves in for the cover!


But Ric Green is there to kick her off Devlin before the count can progress any further.

NATE HOLLIS: Ric Greene’s proving to be a difficult opponent to keep down and out of the action.

BRAD STOKES: I told him to do that.


BRAD STOKES: Before the match. I’m his life coach. Like my son, Thad.


BRAD STOKES: What? You seem standoffish in regards to my family, Nate. What the hell. Why?

NATE HOLLIS: Are you sure those kids are yours?

BRAD STOKES: Of course I’m sure. They have my last name. What further proof could a father need?

NATE HOLLIS: One of them is BLACK, Brad. 

BRAD STOKES: He has… a NAME, Nate.   

NATE HOLLIS: You’re hopeless.  Back to the important matter of this match, Ric Greene has Angelica Vaughn up and is setting her up for a Jacknife powerbomb!

But Devlin is up and clotheslining Ric Greene into the ground with authority! Devlin drops to his knees, clearly frustrated, and starts dragging Ric Greene’s face into the dirt with gritted teeth. In between dragging Greene’s face into the dirt, Devlin drops an elbow periodically into his spine before finally dragging Ric up to his feet!

NATE HOLLIS: Greene is severely stunned! It’s not looking good!

Devlin has him right where he wants him! He turns into a diamond cutter position!


But before he can execute, Vaughn is up and pulling Devlin away from Ric before the finisher can be completed. Much to Devlin’s surprise Vaughn, through gritted teeth, is pulling Devlin into a surprise knee strike then taking advantage of Devlin’s stunned and prone form to quickly suplex him up and over right down into the exposed Pomeranian Dog pit amid a hail of feisty barking!

NATE HOLLIS: She just forced Devlin into the dog pit!
BRAD STOKES: He’s going to be cuddled to death!!!

With Devlin out of the picture, Vaughn can see an open road towards Ric Greene who is just barely conscience now, dropped to his knees in an effort to recover some coherence. Vaughn sees her opening, lines him up, and rushes him for a soccer kick only to be scooped into the cloaked arms of a figure in a white mask!

NATE HOLLIS: It’s one of Devlin’s followers!!!!!

BRAD STOKES: Where’s he taking her?

Angelica is stunned as the cloaked figure in the white mask rushes her quickly towards the church and disappears her behind a rapidly slammed door! You can hear it lock!

NATE HOLLIS: Angelica Vaughn just got kidnapped!!!

BRAD STOKES: This match is Ric Greene’s!

Ric Greene, stunned but able to get to his feet stumbles confusedly towards the dog pit after watching Angelica disappear before his very eyes. He looks down expecting to see shreds of Devlin, but instead sees a pit of placid Pomeranians sleeping. With a frown Greene turns around to see Devlin standing right behind him and in a hurry SLAMS Greene down with the Face Off!

NATE HOLLIS: I don’t believe it! Where did Devlin come from!


Devlin has Greene’s leg hooked, and the referee is in place to count!




NATE HOLLIS: Devlin did it! Someone rubbed Angelica Vaughn off the play!! Where is she?!


NATE HOLLIS: Some shady business going on in that match!


NATE HOLLIS: We heard you, Brad!


One month ago…

An abandoned amusement park. A pitch-black night somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Louisiana. People might question Kassandrah’s good judgment, why would she follow a series of anonymous instructions leading her up to such a creepy place? Isn’t this how a horror movie would start?

The pale moon gleamed out from behind a cloud, illuminating the psychic’s face for a moment. No second thoughts, no hesitation in her eyes as she walked through the rusty and creaking old gate. Only one light shone in the whole park, a beacon guiding her through the deserted path, surrounded by the crumbling and vandalized attractions of the once glorious Pure Amusement Park. With every step she took, what started as a feeling in the back of her brain, became a certainty. Whoever set this up, was leading her to a place she knew oh so well. Her old Fortune Teller stand was standing out in the darkness of the night, glaring with red led lights framing its contour. That odd and somehow disturbing feeling of being observed never left her as she was quickly approaching her destination and, hopefully, the answers she was looking for. Despite how hard she tried to convince herself that it was just a suggestion, a trick her mind was playing.

She finally arrived in front of the stand, peeking inside. No one was there. “Odd, but not completely unexpected.” She thought as she walked around and entered through the backdoor. So many memories… Some of her trinkets, lame tourist traps with no value or meaning, was still there, scattered all over the counter, covered by a layer of dust and dirt. An old ouija board was laying on the floor, broken in half. Kassandrah’s eyes were wandering all around the booth, her mind taking her back to those good old days. So absorbed in her thoughts she didn’t notice the oddly dressed figure entering the stall. His light brown hair floating as he moved smoothly, without making any noise, sliding behind her back. A sliver of moonlight reflected on a metallic object on his chest, a fancy dagger from what could be seen.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me? “ She asked, without even turning.

“I think you know the answers to both questions, Kassandrah.”

“You…” She stared at the young man in front of her, shocked. Those green eyes peering out from his ruffled hair, hovering on his face, obvious consequence of the cold Louisiana wind, the fancy clothes, and that mask covering his mouth and nose. She was trying to remember his name “...Sybyl.”

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense to Kassandrah. In the short time they path crossed, right here in Purity Louisiana, she always looked at this elusive wrestler with curiosity. In a world where people do whatever in their power to stay under the spotlights, he shied away from them. He never seemed to fight for the sake of competition, for money or fame, driven by something different, something higher, so to speak.


“The truth hides behind the door of perception.” She repeated the same phrase he used to start this whole treasure hunt.

“Indeed. What people see, is what they want them to see. A lie, a deceit. The doors must be open for everyone to see the rotten foundations the system is built on.” He spoke in that calm, pompous tone.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Beg your pardon?” Her direct question took him off guard, something that didn’t happen so often.

“Proving she’s involved in some shady business may facilitate our takeover of F2W. I don’t get why you would be doing this…”

“You don’t know me too well then... “ He said, shaking his head. “Everything I do, I do it for the sake of truth. I want to save F2W, before it’s too late.”

Kassandrah looked at him. She knew from experience that Sybyl never speaks just to hear himself talking. It was clear that he knew something. Something they could use.

“Save it from Angelina Altomonte?”

“She’s a good woman, her heart is in the right place. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Another cryptic answer. Kassandrah started questioning the reasons of her presence here. He was the one suggesting that what could look one of Cuppola’s many pindaric flights, or the vague gut feeling of a psychic had some truth behind, he was the one strewing hints for her to follow, all the way to a place that certainly was picked for a reason. Then why was he stalling now? Why wouldn’t he help her? And what did he mean by saying he wants to save F2W?

“A lot of pressure comes from living and fulfilling someone else’s dream. And you don’t realize how heavy is the head that wears the crown until its weight crush you.”

“Fight 2 Win was her father’s vision. All the money, sponsorship and contracts vanished and revoked when Jack died…” Kassandrah repeated to herself, trying to follow his thinking.

“Did he?”

Two words. That was all it took him to undermine her certainties. “What do you mean?”

“What I said.” He replied dryly. “The truth needs proof, and there’s none when it comes to Jack Altomonte’s death. Nothing tangible at least.”

Kassandrah shook her head. Why couldn’t he be more clear? What he was suggesting, could have so many implications. IF Jack Altomonte was still alive, why leave everything in his daughter’s hands? Why did he fake his own death? And what happened to all the funds he gathered? “Sybyl, if you have any evidence in support to this hypothesis…”

“I have none.” He could see a slight disappointment in her eyes.

“I came here because I thought you had the answer I was looking for. And I go home empty handed.” She provoked him.

“Not quite. You leave Purity with more questions.”  Sybyl replied. “And that, Kassandrah, is the only way to find the answers.”

And that was his cue, leaving Kassandrah alone with her thoughts.

BRAD STOKES: Weird. We’re breaking the laws of space-time going back in time for a clip like that, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: I tell you who doesn’t care about the unities, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Who? Who would DARE?

NATE HOLLIS: Your boy Zack Fantana.

BRAD STOKES: Ohhhhhh. Nice, nice. He is my boy. You’re right.

NATE HOLLIS: Different last name, though.

BRAD STOKES: Really makes you think. You could be my son for all we know, Nate.

NATE HOLLIS: I shudder to contemplate that proposition.

BRAD STOKES: Don't we all.

Zack Fantana and Bobby Franchise walk up to The Whale. Bobby Franchise keeps walking because this cannot possibly be the bar Fantana was wrestling at tonight. Zack stops him and they open the door. The music is what hits them first with a hard blast of stale air. It is the distorted thrashing of a hardcore band. They play off to the side but the people inside all have their attention on Zack and Bobby. In the middle of the bar there is a ring with the thing that has Zack’s attention. Natalie King and an F2W referee stand in the middle and she holds the Melee Championship above her head. The small crowd forms a path for him to get to the ring and he sighs, then appears nonchalant as he walks in. Bobby Franchise follows with a look of slight disgust on his face. He makes sure nobody touches his suit. He spots the bar and turns right for it securing a seat for himself between two lovely ladies. Zack turns to give Bobby his jacket but finds nobody there. Shaking his head he enters the ring and after a tense staredown and handshake the match begins.

NATE HOLLIS: A huge match if ever there was one. No theatrics. No unnecessary build-up. Just two gladiators at the height of their powers about to fight a contest to see who walks away the Champion of Melee.

The match starts as a striking match as both Zack and Natalie put their arms up to guard their face. Natalie goes for some low kicks which Zack checks making him dance around the ring. She then blocks two jabs and a punch flurry. Before Zack backs her into the corner she opens up to hit Zack with a surprise thrust kick. Fantana falls on his back but then kips up immediately downing King with a lariat. The crowd in the bar slap the mat to clap so as not to let go of their beers.

NATE HOLLIS: Fantana’s not an easy man to take down and keep down for the three count. Nat King better hope she’s fully rested after last Melee, and that fight with the guy and his particle beam.

BRAD STOKES: Don’t remind me.

Zack picks Natalie up and punches her in the midsection to back her up into the corner. Then he grabs onto the middle rope and drives his shoulder into her stomach three times. He scoops her her up and drives her into the turnbuckle then picks her up again and turns to hit her with a spinebuster. He continues to work her midsection by driving his elbow onto her back. She rolls over to the ropes but Zack pulls the champion back and kicks her repeatedly. He goes for a quick pin but King kicks out immediately with a hurtful looking jerk of her legs.

NATE HOLLIS: Not looking good for Natalie King here, with Zack Fantana in control.

BRAD STOKES: Don’t be fooled, Nate. This right here is every woman’s fantasy. Or should I say, “Fantanasy”.

Fantana picks her up and sets her up for the Sleep Apnea pumphandle gutbuster but when he swings her up she kicks him in the head. King immediately goes on the offensive hooking Zack into a clutch and hitting him with some kicks to the stomach, chest and finally his head.

BRAD STOKES: Hard to believe I was wrong about the Fantanasy thing. It’s literally Zack’s nickname. Perhaps I’ve miscalculated Natalie King’s turn-ons.

NATE HOLLIS: Boggles the mind.

BRAD STOKES: I have it all written down in my notes, though. Literally every turn-on of every roster member ever alive anywhere, throughout history.

NATE HOLLIS: No you don’t.

BRAD STOKES: Then why do I think I do, Nate?

NATE HOLLIS: I honestly have no idea.


Zack covers as best he can from Nat’s strikes, but some do get through. He is backed away into the ropes until his final relief comes as he sits on the middle rope. King lets go but runs back to bounce against the opposite ropes and dashes across the ring to kick him through the ropes and into the outside. She takes her time to raise her hands and walk around the ring to get some cheers from the fans. When she comes back around Zack pulls her out from the bottom ropes.

NATE HOLLIS: It didn’t take too long for this thing to spill outside, did it?

BRAD STOKES: Just a second. Tell them to hold the fight. I’m revising my notes.

NATE HOLLIS: I’ll do that, Brad.

BRAD STOKES: Thank you.

They exchange a few hard elbows and proceed to fight around the crowd. Zack tries to weave in and out between people to strike at King and she shoves people aside to get at him. They finally make it to the bar. Bobby Franchise notices Zack Fantana fighting and raises his glass in salute. Zack grabs it and drinks but spits it out on King after she kicks him in the stomach. He apologizes and tries to wipe it off but she headbutts him and hits him with another flurry of punches and elbows.

BRAD STOKES: Can you believe that? Zack is such a gentleman, and Nat just throws it right back in his face.

NATE HOLLIS: Hard to imagine.

Zack escapes by ducking a punch and returning a hard one to her midsection. She bowls over in pain and Zack grabs her by the head and slams her head against the bar then throws her over. Zack jumps onto the bar and Bobby grabs his leg to stop him. He looks a little tipsy


BOBBY FRANCHISE: I’d like to propose a toast. Show these barbarians how it’s done.

ZACK FANTANA: Now is not really the time, Bobby.

BOBBY FRANCHISE: Nonsense. Here.

 Bobby turns to the crowd and raises a glass.

BRAD STOKES: This is my favorite part of every wrestling match.

NATE HOLLIS: This isn’t—Nevermind.

BRAD STOKES: Spare me my shreds of dignity.

Everyone with a drink raises it as well. The band goes quiet. One of his lady friends tries to give Zack a shot but Natalie King pulls him back behind the bar. Bobby Franchise continues as they occasionally pop up behind him in the brawl.

BOBBY FRANCHISE: I’d like to thank you people. When we showed up in our expensive jackets and my complicatedly patterned suit I thought you people were savages. You hang around here in this filthy bar and drink watered down slosh and you take it. I admire that. You accept your lot in life but I also accept that you accepted us. It almost brings a tear to my eye is it wasn’t surgically repaired to keep my perfect 20/20 vision at all times. So a toast! To you crazy apocalyptic rejects for… What are you guys looking at?

He turns around to see Fantana and King on top of the bar trying to get the better of one another in a clinch. Zack reaches over with his leg and presses on the back of Natalie’s knee. He punches her in the forehead and draws blood. He looks at his hand in disgust and wipes it on Bobby’s suit. Bobby almost faints and the women take him to the bathroom. Natalie lunges at Zack’s leg and hits him with a shoulder to the shin. Zack stumbles back and Natalie stands up looking possessed with rage. The band starts back up to fuel her anger.

NATE HOLLIS: Definitely not the fight I was expecting.

BRAD STOKES: I dreamed this whole thing last night. None of it is currently surprising me.

Zack sees a few empty glasses behind the bar and throws them at King as she advances. She blocks the first one but the glass shatters on her face making her cuts worse. She then punches the next glass out of the air. She walks forward and punches each glass he throws at her to pieces. When she reaches him he tries to hit her with two glasses in his hands but she ducks and dodges each strike until the punches them out too.

BRAD STOKES: This is how I used to train.

NATE HOLLIS: You were a paragon.

BRAD STOKES: ‘Keep up’. That’s my motto.

NATE HOLLIS: Was. Was your motto.

BRAD STOKES: Still is. And you just proved it. Keep up, Nate.

He swings again and she ducks but he immediately hits the Sleepwalk pele kick hitting her right in the middle of her face. She stumbles back but doesn’t fall. She yells to try to regain her composure and Zack advances. He runs at her but she scoops him up and tosses him over her with an Exploder Suplex right onto the bar littered with broken glass. They both fall and land on the floor.

NATE HOLLIS: Stunning reversal there by Natalie King!

Zack crawls back to the ring and gets up onto the apron. Natalie runs at him to take his feet out from under him again but he jumps up and stomps down onto her. He throws her into the ring and she rolls to the middle as he waits. When she gets up he jumps up on the top rope and springs off them to hit her with the Flight of Fantasy but Natalie stands defiantly and dodges the strike. She positions herself so that Fantana lands perfectly into her No Halo guillotine choke. King squeezes the choke and pulls hard as the fans go wild. Zack is almost out until he pushes her to the ropes. King pulls hard but Zack manages to squat down and spring up to flip them both over the top rope and into the crowd.

NATE HOLLIS: These two are putting on a clinic!

Zack gets on the apron to recover as Natalie is lost on the floor. She tries to get up but it looks like she landed a bit too hard. Fantana rolls into the ring and holds his neck waiting her for her to get up. When she does he jumps on the top rope and hits Flight of Fantasy on the outside taking out Natalie King and a number of audience members. He dashes into the ring pushing more people out of the way and another melee ensues. Somewhere in the confusion someone started throwing punches and more people join in. The referee tries to look for Natalie in the chaos that starts to overtake the entire bar. Glasses and bottles start flying and the staff tries to protect the few stools left in the place. A circle opens up in the middle like a maelstrom as Natalie King fights her way back to the ring. She stumbles into the ring and Zack jumps on her to his the Reverie!

NATE HOLLIS: Zack has her!

The ref counts



And a few of the fans enter the ring to scuffle right over them.

BRAD STOKES: This one’s turning into a rager!

NATE HOLLIS: Not sure how this one’s going to play out with the crowd getting invovled like this.

Zack is livid and he superkicks anyone in the ring stopping when he almost decapitates the ref.

BRAD STOKES: He’s going to superkick them, Nate. HAHAHA. That’s the Fantana way!

NATE HOLLIS: My mistake.

BRAD STOKES: You can apologize after the show.

He clears the ring and turns his attention back to King. He picks her up and hits her with a powerbomb by the corner. He climbs the ropes and slowly gets up. A few of the crowd stop fighting and notice the majestic Fantana raise his arms and a few voice their concern for King.

NATE HOLLIS: This could be it! Fantana’s up top with nothing standing in his way but to jump!

Zack jumps off to spin in the air with the Lucid Dream but King, at the last moment, rolls up her legs over her shoulders and Zack misses! He crashes and burns. The majority of the crowd come back to cheer Natalie on and she goes over to him to hit her Snap Piledriver but he slips out as her hands are too damaged to pick him up. He steps back chops her a few times and knees her in the stomach.She doubles over and at the same time he tries to go for The Reverie again but she wraps her arms around his legs and rolls forward to muffle the blow. Zack rolls back and when they stand she uses her arms to hit a crude Exploder Suplex. He pops up to be hit with a Ballad of Fallen Angels spin kick and he crumples back down. Natalie wills him to get back up and when he does she gets him with No Sympathy and covers.






NATE HOLLIS: In the end, he didn’t.

BRAD STOKES: Awww man! What a rip off!

Natalie King wins! The referee hands her the Melee Championship and raises her hand as she yells out in victory then collapses to her knees to be seen by medical personnel… who is just a patron that happens to be a nurse.

NATE HOLLIS: I’m sure she’ll be fine, folks.

BRAD STOKES: Better not be. I crave blood.

NATE HOLLIS: She’s bleeding.

BRAD STOKES: I crave more blood.

NATE HOLLIS: She’s ready to pass out from blood loss.

BRAD STOKES: I’m getting sleepy, too.

NATE HOLLIS: How the hell does anyone take you seriously.

BRAD STOKES: It takes a lot of practice. ‘Keep Up’. Remember?

NATE HOLLIS: Eehhhhh. That’s it for us tonight, fight fans. For Brad Stokes, and myself, Nate Hollis, we hope you enjoyed Melee 3!

The SEVEN vigilantes strut through the inner courtyard like gunfighters out of the Old West. The exterior castle shares many similarities with classic medieval architecture, but the interior is nothing of the sort. Stone and wood is replaced with cold, black durasteel floors and walls. The inner courtyard is massive, but much of it is lost in an unsettling darkness that swells and contracts in the cavernous space between the shafts of light coming from lamps far, far above.

They enter a turbolift at the base of the main tower. The doors slide shut and the lift surges upward, racing to the top floor.

Remini looks to each of them, and then into the camera.

LH: Avoid conversation with the Blackstar. He is a liar. He will lie to confuse us, but he will also mix lies with the truth to attack us. The attack is psychological. And powerful. And fucking creepy. So don't listen. Remember that, do not listen.


When the elevator opens, the camera operator darts out first, hurrying down the hallway, just short of the door at the end. He takes a spot low to the ground and aims back at the turbolift, capturing TV’S LEAH REMINI marching forward, determined and ready to do battle, flanked by the four red shirts and the audio technician.

The camera swings up and moves behind Remini as she passes by and approaches the automatic door. It slides open and the seven enter THE HIGH CHAMBER.

A lush purple runner leads from the door. It matches the softly curving walls and the recessed lights in the ceiling.  Leah Remini steps forward with her compatriots fanning out behind her. The four red shirts have their pitchforks held forward, jutting out past her in a defense position.

LH: Blackstar!

A single chair rests at the end of the runner. It is turned away, facing the huge arc of window and its view of downtown Los Angeles. The chair rotates forward, revealing the SUPREME LEADER of the CHURCH of SCIENTOLOGY. His true glory is hidden beneath a black hood and robe.

BLACKSTAR: AH, Leah Remini. Have you come to PLEAD for MERCY?

LH: Please. (scoffs) We’ve come to kill you. If anyone needs to start begging for mercy—

She reaches back and pulls a silver Desert Eagle handgun from her waistband.

LH: —it’s you.


LH: You will answer for Cher’s death, you son of a bitch.

Remini is cut off by Blackstar’s loud, cackling laugh.

LH: What’s so funny?

BLACKSTAR: You say Cher is dead AND YET…

Another door, to the right, opens with a woosh. A woman enters the high chamber. Tall, with milk-white skin and long, straight midnight hair.

LH: It can’t be…

It is. Cher, back from the dead, clad in a gold, slave girl bikini. She crosses the room and takes her place beside Blackstar.

She flips her hair back while licking her lips, then says:

CHER: Scientology has shown me that there really is life after love.

She places her hand on the Blackstar’s should and then runs it across his chest.

BLACKSTAR: (speaking to the redshirts) AS YOU CAN SEE, CHER is more alive than ever. You have been mislead by this TRAITOR SCUM. Drop your pitchforks and EMBRACE SCIENTOLOGY.

LH: Do not listen to him. That thing is not Cher!

The redshirts stand ready to attack.


He rises from his seat and holds out his arms. Cher removes the robe, revealing his biomechanical battlesuit.

BLACKSTAR: You cannot stop me. NO ONE CAN. My POWER is greater than YOURS or ANY.

LH: (enraged) I’ll show you power, you purple cock gobbler!

She pulls the trigger. Bang! Bang! Bang-Bang! Four bullets rip from the gun’s barrel in a flash. The Blackstar reacts with inhuman speed, crossing his left arm over his chest. The slugs explode against his gauntlet, sending sparks and shrapnel harmlessly away.

Remini can’t believe it. Fear begins to eat at her and her cohorts.

BLACKSTAR: HA HA HA. I am required by the CELESTIALS to compete in FIGHT 2 WIN at a mere 1% of my POWER, but—

His right hand is at his chest, fingers on a small dial. A small LED panel above it reads a mere 25%.

BLACKSTAR: —that limitation is RESCINDED in defense against ARMED VIGILANTES.

He throws his right hand down and from his hip it retrieves a hilt. With a flick, a purple particle beam extends as a laser blade. THEN—

The Blackstar launches himself over the desk, flipping forward. He lands in a SUPER ACTION POSE.

BLACKSTAR: You should have stayed in the Church, Remini. Now you will DIE with these FOOLS.

Blackstar thrusts his particle sword forward. Remini barely moves in time, darting to the side. The beam instead stabs one of the Redshirts in the face. When the blade pulls back, it leaves behind a cauterized hole. As the body falls, Blackstar turns to the other three Redshirts. The pitchforks offer no defense. In quick succession, he cuts all of them down. The loudness of their screams distort the audio.

Remini shoves past the A&E crewmen and runs for the turbolift. The cameraman bolts after her and we LOSE SIGHT of the carnage of the High Chamber, but we HEAR the sizzling clash of the particle sword, followed by the audio technician’s high pitched death cry.

Remini boards the Turbolift first. She waves on the cameraman, who is struggling to keep the frame steady as he hurries toward her. He enters the lift and spins around, aiming the lens over her shoulder.

The Blackstar is back in frame, stalking his way down the hallway. She holds out the gun and empties the last bullets. They deflect off the Supreme Leader’s gauntlets as he races toward them.

But the doors shut in time. The lift launches downward, back to the inner courtyard.

The camera is on Remini. She’s taking quick, panic-fueled breaths and trembling with her arms wrapped around herself. Audio is lost, leaving the feed drowned in silence. At last, Remini lifts her head, and turns to the camera. The fear has gone from her eyes, now replaced with righteous fury.

A slow push in to the office of Angelina Altamonte. A placid smirk on her face with her phone nestled close to her ear. We’ve entered into a conversation in progress.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: No, it wouldn’t be wise to have you come in currently. I want to keep you a secret. Can’t have your face on CCTV. Just in case. We don't want to leave a trail.

She listens to the voice we can’t hear on the other end. Her smirk widens so slightly.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: It’s worked out better than I’d imagined. When I hired you to infiltrate Cuppola’s little Scooby Doo gang in order to set him up to take a fall, I had no idea the Scientologist’s would inadvertently trigger that insurance policy for me. Quite a stroke of luck, wouldn’t you say?

Again, she listens, leaning back in her chair with an amused frown on her face.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: They unwittingly set us ahead 3 months ahead of schedule. Now the only thing left is the loose end of Cuppola. You’re sure you can manipulate him and his gang?

A giggle. The news coming from the other end is obviously to her liking. Slowly she frowns.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: Well, why is he doing that? Never in a million years could I have imagined that the biggest threat to my father’s dream, and the future of Fight 2 Win would come in the form of an inept former director, a supposed psychic and someone who’s name is a number.

It’s comical to her, hard to say the reaction on the other end of the line. Her frown grows as she hears more news.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: I’m confused. What does bread have to do with anything?

She shakes her head immediately after asking, correcting herself internally.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: You know what? Nevermind. I’m never going to understand that man. So we’ll leave it at that. You know exactly what you need to do. Steer him, manipulate him, and there’s going to be a sizeable chunk of the pie left waiting for you upon successful completion of the task. Understood?

There’s agreement on the other end.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: Good. I knew I could count on you.

And then she clicks off the line with a satisfied grin as she sets the phone down on the desk and eyes her office. One she’ll be renovating, and moving on up out of in no time.

ANGELINA ALTAMONTE: The future looks bright, dad. I'm doing you proud. Shame you're not here to see it.

She smirks thoughtfully.

And we fade. 

FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 4 Opt-in Thread
« on: November 27, 2017, 10:37:28 AM »
For the uninitiated, and initiated alike, this is a sign up thread for the next show.

If you'd like to have a match on Melee 4, which will be held in December, then reply to this thread.

If you're not a member of F2W and would like to have a match on Melee 4, sign up with an application, and reply to this thread.

Or, if you'd like to have a one-off match to test the waters in F2W, sign up to the forums, and reply and we'll talk.

Options aplenty. This thread will be closed as of November 30. The day the show goes up.

FEEDBACK BOARD / Melee 2 Feedback?
« on: October 30, 2017, 12:09:36 PM »
Let us know what you liked?

What you didn't like?

Anything you'd like to see?

Anything you'd not like to see, moving forward?

Thoughts not previously covered by the last 4 questions you'd like to add?

FED NEWS AND NOTES / Melee 3 Segment Sign-Up
« on: October 30, 2017, 11:11:44 AM »
As is the customary drill, reply below with a segment spot you'd like to claim and you shall be added to this list!

The Prologue -

The Introduction - Staff

Alfie Tenner Versus The Blackstar - Written by

Segment -

Adam Wolfe Versus Starlight - Written by

Segment -

Angelica Vaughn Versus Brennan Devlin Versus Ric Greene - Written by

Segment -

Zack Fantana Versus Natalie King - Written by

Segment - Blackstar

Epilogue -

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